Peter Parker sits at his workstation in the basement of his home, mixing a new concoction of his superglue, or as he dubbed it his mind, web fluid.
As the chemicals bind together it quickly expands and solidifies but remains active. Laughing he takes a pen to poke at the white substance before pulling.
The compound sticks to the end of the writing tool and stretches, he stands up before taking several steps back, it extends with him.
His body shakes in excitement as he continues moving all the way to the opposite side of the room, "Yes!"
'They said it was a waste of time, that I should focus on something more worthwhile but I did it! I did it!'
Peter jumps and, like it's as natural as breathing, back flips. He blinks and stares at himself in astonishment before giggling, "Awesome…"
Right, he has powers. Legitimate super powers! He needs to test them, find his limits, he knows the bare bones of what he could do from the genome analysis but… there's a difference between knowing and knowing.
Peter looks at his hands before looking up at the ceiling with a gleam in his eyes he leaps up with more force than intended leaving cracks in the cement floor, and his hands along with his bare feet cling to the surface.
Looking down he knows he should feel a sense of vertigo, human beings are not meant to be upside down but… nothing.
"Oh this, this is going to be fun!" Peter grins before the smile drops from his face as he can't release his hold on the surface, "Oh… oh no."
Eventually he drops from the ceiling but immediately rights himself before landing, crouching on all fours. Standing up straight, he walks up the stairs to the main house and turns the knob to enter the home.
The genius walks over to the closet down the hall that's below the staircase that leads up the second floor. Opening it, he finds what he's looking for, a pair of Ben's boots.
They were pale suede and seen better days, not that it really mattered.
Slipping them on before lacing them up he closes the hall closet and strides to the entrance of his home, he opens the door and closes it behind him.
At first the boy walks, a bubbling excitement sitting in his gut at how to test his new abilities before he starts jogging, impatience buzzing underneath his skin, and then he starts running.
He runs so fast, it feels like he's flying.
It's not long until he sees people.
He tries to stop before he runs someone over but can't, at the speed he's going it's simply not possible but then something pokes itself in the back of his head, right at the base of his neck, and suddenly he dodges them with the grace of a ballerina.
When he does slow the boy finds himself walking the streets of Queens proper, usually he's at home or at University with the occasional family outing but he's never really just walked the streets by himself with no destination in mind.
Looking up at an apartment building three stories high, he strolls in the nearby alleyway.
Peter places his left hand on the brick wall but the stickiness from before is nowhere to be found, 'Hm?'
He barely had to think about it before, it just happened, though releasing it took a hot minute.
Pulling back he stares at his palm, spiders stick to walls with thousands of microscopic hairs which are covered by even more hairs that exert a lot of force allowing a spider to cling to about any surface.
It's possible he has developed something similar.
In the basement he barely had to think about it, the idea came to him and without much thought he tried it out.
… maybe that's the problem, too much thought.
That's always been his problem.
Taking a deep breath and then another before he places his left hand on the wall, he feels it stick.
He then places his left foot on it, not to aid in clinging but to push him up but, to his surprise, it does adhere to the surface.
If Peter had setae then there's no way his foot could cling to the wall while wearing shoes, they wouldn't be able to pierce the soles of the boots. So how does his adhesion work?
'Maybe…' Pressing his face against the wall he focuses on the point of his fingers meeting the wall, with his improved eyesight it's not hard to see the groves of his fingers, pulling his pointer finger away he slowly presses it back against the surface, 'Oh.' Just before the pad touches the wall a small static charge of electricity leaves it.
So small that it would be impossible to notice without it being inches away from your eyes.
'I'm using electrostatic force to overcome the repulsion of an electron's outer shell creating a bond with the material I'm touching, that would explain how I'm able to cling to the wall even with my shoes on; the static charge I'm generating traveled through the soles to reach the walls.'
Peter shakes the revelation off and pushes up, reaching higher along the wall with his right hand.
Slowly at first, then faster.
Reaching for the edge he hauls himself up to the roof of the apartment, he looks out to the many other apartments, all lined up in front of him and wonders, 'Just how far can I jump?'
Peter decides to find out, he runs and as he reaches the opposite ledge he leaps, clearing one roof, then two, then three before landing on the fourth, "Fuck yeah!"
That was about a hundred feet.
The boy whoops in joy, he can hear the people down below looking up, exclaiming in shock.
"T…he He..ll…"
"Who is that?!"
"Oh my god!"
"Cool…"
Peter stumbles to a halt finding himself at the fringe of a large intersection, hundreds of cars passing by. He looks to the building across, its large, maybe ten stories, made up of glass panels.
He swallows, he can't make the jump, he doesn't think but… but maybe…
~Spider-Man Evolution~
Teresa Parker hums as she and her friends watch one of her favorite movies in the living room.
On her right is her best friend Anya Corazon, she's shorter than her by a few inches with an almond skin tone, thick bushy brown hair that ends at the middle of her back along with light hazel eyes.
The boy on her left, Miles Morales, on the other hand is tall for his age, an inch or so taller than her brother with an espresso complexion, shaved black hair, and brown eyes.
She and her friends hear the door to the house open, the taller girl turns, ready to greet whoever walks through only to blink as a stranger enters.
He's a handsome guy with perfect skin that she's sure all her female friends would be jealous of and a sharp jawline that could cut someone. His eyes are the brightest amber she has ever seen that they almost look yellow and to top it off, he has the fluffiest hair that is the most intense red she has ever seen.
Teresa feels an indescribable urge to touch it.
The teen smiles, "Te."
She… she knows that voice, "Peter?!"
Her brother winces before shaking it off and walking over.
"How was your day at school?" Walking over he pats her head before pushing the strands of hair away from her left temple to kiss it, "And how about yours, Anya? It feels like I haven't seen you in forever." The boy asks as he practically hops over to the dark chocolate suede loveseat perpendicular to the main couch, sitting down.
Anya opens her mouth but nothing but gibberish comes out before finally, "What happened to you?!" She blurts out.
Her brother shifts, "What… are you talking about?" He looks away and his sister narrows her eyes.
"You know exactly what she's talking about, Petey! You… you…"
"You look hot!" The shortest of the group exclaims before blushing and covering her mouth.
Teresa whips her head to stare at her friend in mortification, "Anya!"
Miles, the traitor, laughs.
Peter huffs in amusement, though it's filled with awkwardness, "Thanks, Anya." He looks towards the other younger boy. "Hey, I'm Peter by the way, you must be Miles."
Her friend nods, "Yep! Miles Morales, nice to meet you Peter."
The taller girl almost screams, "Peter." She grits out. "Why do you look so different? Where are your glasses? Why are you a foot taller!"
Peter lips thin as his eyes shift side to side as if he's looking for a place to hide, "Puberty."
Miles snorts and she slaps his arm in retaliation.
"Ow!" He turns and glares at her which she ignores.
"Puberty? Puberty turned you into a lead singer of a pop band? Really?" Teresa asks, doubt coating her words.
Her brother nods slowly, "It's magical, just wait until you go through it, it hits like a train."
"God, I hope I get hit as hard as you did." Anya mumbles.
The younger Parker's face scrunches up, "Really?" She's had the birds and the bee's talk with May along with that whole class session about growing up but…
"Yeah." The older boy nods hurriedly, "Puberty is different for everyone, Te. Sometimes it's slow and sometimes it happens all at once."
Teresa bobs her head, "O…okay… if you say so." She turns around back to the movie before quickly looking back. "But what about your glasses?! You're blind as a bat without them!"
"Contacts." He answers instantly, "Ben got them for me, a few years ago remember? I don't really like them but I thought I would give it another try." Her brother shrugs.
The girl in fact does not remember this happening but considering she would have been six or seven at the time that's a given.
"Wait, you had contacts the whole time and you decided to wear that monstrosity you called glasses?!" Anya yells in shock.
The older boy hums, "They were easier but I wanted to try something new."
The girl huffs in disbelief.
"Does he really look that different?" Miles asks with doubt, "He can't have changed that much?"
Teresa pulls out her phone, not a flip phone like Peter's that he got from Ben but an actual smartphone.
Best Christmas gift ever.
She quickly enters her password and clicks on the camera symbol, pulling up her camera roll before scrolling down. Pressing on a photo of her and Peter a couple weeks ago, she shows Miles who leans over to look.
Her friend stares before looking at her brother before looking back at the picture of him. His head switches back and forth before finally settling on Peter with awe.
"That train must have run you over and then backed up, I hope it does the same to me."
Peter laughs, a full body laugh before smirking, her brother actually to God smirks, "Cross your fingers then."
She hears Anya swoon, like she would for Andrew Garfield! Her brother isn't Andrew Garfield! He's a nerd! A dork! A weenie!
Her weenie but still a weenie!
"Anyway, what are you guys watching?" Her brother changes the topic.
Teresa lets it go, "Flash, Tobey edition."
Peter rolls her eyes, "Alright, I'm out." He stands up.
Miles raises an eyebrow, "You don't like the Flash?" He asks as if the very idea is offensive to him.
The taller girl snorts, "He doesn't like superheroes, full stop."
"Yep! Absolutely hates them for a very stupid reason." Anya teases the older boy who ruffles her hair as he passes by, getting a blush from her.
"Why?" Her male friend asks, "Who doesn't like superheroes, they're the best!"
Peter turns around, "Eh, just never got behind the idea. Like they dedicate their lives to saving people, as many people as they can but they always spare the bad guy. At some point it stops being enterinering or inspiring when their arch enemy escapes prison in some convoluted fashion and goes on their tenth massacre."
Miles opens his mouth to argue but Peter bulldozes over him.
"Like really, you're going to be just as bad as the guy who killed thousands of people just because you killed them? That makes no logical sense! At that point you're just as culpable as they are! And then there are the antiheroes who are just as bad as the villains, killing anyone who looks at them funny. There's no medium, no middle ground, just a cycle of death, a chase between Tom and Jerry and I stopped watching that shit when I was four."
The younger boy nods with an uncomfortable look on his face, "Well… I can't… um… argue with tha… that."
"Oh, look at what you did Peter!" Teresa wraps an arm around her new friend's shoulder, "You gave him anxiety!"
He rolls his eyes, "Yeah all right, I know I'm the outlier here. Hope you guys have fun." He gives them a wave as he walks to the door to the basement, opens it and enters, closing the door behind him.
Miles looks at the girl beside, "Your brother is scary."
"He's a teddy bear, he wouldn't hurt a fly even if his life depended on it."
Anya giggles, "I still can't believe that's Pete, he looks like a teen model!"
"Please stop drooling over my brother." Teresa deadpans at her other friend.
"Like he was cute before in that dweeby sort of way but whoa!"
"I swear to god," The younger Parker starts, "I will throw you out of this house."
Anya looks at friend and notices her disgusted face, "Do you think he'll let me take a picture of him and make it my wallpaper?" She teases, bumping her shoulder against the other's.
"Okay!" Teresa stands up, "Movie marathon over!"
"Te!" The shorter girl exclaims with laughter, "Te, come on! I'm sorry!"
~Spider-Man Evolution~
Peter sits at his desk, a pencil in hand as he draws up schematics for his idea; web-shooters.
The idea is pretty basic but revolutionary, using them as a mechanism to guide his web fluid it can rapidly extend creating ropes that will allow him to swing across great distances.
If a normal person tried this they would probably dislocate their shoulder or even tear it off but with his enhanced physiology he can handle the strain of rapid acceleration and deceleration that the swinging would have.
He could take apart the old VCR and DVD players along with spare parts from the various projects Ben used for the house. Oh and he could use old USB sticks as web cartridges!
He could this in a few hours.
"Beep!"
Peter blinks at the noise, he takes out his phone and flips it open, "Harry? Whose Har–" The boy's eyes widen, "Right!" He smiles and looks at the message.
Hey Pete! I'm just wondering if we can set up a tutoring session?
The genius vibrates with excitement.
Sure, sounds' good. How about this weekend? At around twelve O'clock p.m?
Peter doesn't have to wait long for the reply.
Opposed to 12 a.m? 😏
Peter blushed in embarrassment.
It's always good to be clear. Send me the address and I'll be there. Gather past assignments along with the syllabus for the class so I know what I need to cover.
You got it, Pete! Thank u! 🥳
The boy grins and writes a quick welcome before focusing back on his project. He finishes the blueprint before gathering the material.
An hour passes and then two or maybe three more, time blurring in a whirlwind of excitement that reaches its height when he fastens the twin gadgets to his wrists and pops in the recommissioned USB sticks.
They're big, almost the size of his whole forearm with hinges sticking out awkwardly and he can't really move his wrists in them. They basically operate as miniaturized hydraulic presses that create around a hundred pounds per square inch of force on the web fluid.
He presses on the pad in the middle of his right palm with his middle and ring finger-
"Cl-THWIP!"
A thick rope of his webs shoots out from a needle valve, hitting the ceiling. Unlike from his first use it actually looks like a spider's web.
When the web fluid leaves the opening and solidifies in the air, the pressure from the bracers cold draws it that increases its tensile strength.
Which allows him to pull himself up and flip himself upside down to dangle off of it.
Though the process creates a shear thinning effect that would decrease the viscosity of his web fluid, because of that it would now dissolve given enough time.
He would need to keep an eye on that.
"Awesome!" Peter flips off the web line and onto the floor, "Now for the real test."
He grabs his messenger bag from the back of his chair and unclamps the web shooters from his wrists, placing them inside.
He then walks up the stairs, through the door and passes the kitchen to the entrance.
"Pe…ter?" Ben Parker greets from the table, first with a look of excitement before it's replaced by shock.
"Heya, Ben! Byea, Ben!" The boy gives the older man a wave, "Tell May, I love her." He says as he opens the door and walks out, closing it behind him.
The genius takes a breath and walks, he can feel himself shaking at what he's about to do, he strides in the direction he did only a few hours ago and climbs to the roof.
When he reaches the top, he takes out his web shooters and clamps them on, his stomach clenching with a nervous warmth.
Then he runs.
The feeling is just as exhilarating, just as nerve racking, just as freeing.
Leaping from building to building, he prepares himself and as he reaches the interaction, he doesn't stop.
No, instead he speeds up and leaps. His breathing speeds, his entire body tenses but he raises his right hand anyway.
He can hear screams but pays them no mind, he aims for the corner of the building before pressing on the pad and–
"CL-THWIP!"
A long string of his web shoots up and splats misses the target.
"FUCK!"
Peter almost pops out of his skull as he plummets to his death, he desperately tries to steady his hand and lowers his aim to a spot he can't possibly miss before firing again.
"SPLAT!"
He fists the rope with both hands and screams, "WHOHOHOHO!"
He swings through the air like Tarzan, the air whipping across his face and as the heel of his feet scrape against the pavement.
Reaching the end of his arc he lets go. Peter flails around, up becoming down but the grin on his face has never been wider, "YeAHaHA!"
Righting himself as he free falls before raising his other hand and shoots out another web. Peter sways' he twists, spinning like a dreidel.
Peter lets go laughing, he shoots off another webline trying to keep himself straight. A moment later he aims his other hand to his side and launches a rope and pulls as he lets go of the line in his right palm.
The genius drops a dozen or so feet but manages to change directions and continues his sail through New York.
~Spider-Man Evolution~
Peter walks up to his home, day having become night, spending a couple hours traversing the city. Just before he touches the door knob to open the entrance he hears his aunt and uncle.
"Oh Ben… what are we going to do?" May Parker cries, he hears a caressing of clothing of what he assumes of his uncle's hand, "The bills, they just keep piling up; F.E.A.S.T is a money pit, the mortgage is sky high, Teresa's tuition is killing us and I can't even think about Peter's loan payments and… and…"
"I know, Belle." Ben speaks softly, his words warm and comforting, "We were barely making ends meet before the hospital bills but we'll make it work, we always do."
His aunt sobs, her cries muffled, probably by his uncle's chest or shoulder.
"What if we don't? I know I just started treatment and I know the doctor said they caught it early and the chances of me actually… actually dying isn't high but… but…" She sniffs, "Ben if I die I don't want a funeral okay, I want to be cemented and–"
Peter feels his heart clench, his world spins on its head. He stumbles back and clenches his eyes in disbelief.
"Don't talk like that." The older man firmly says, "Like you said, the doctor told us that your breast cancer barely qualifies for stage two. So have faith, have faith in the chemo, have faith in your strength, and have faith in us, that no matter what happens that the sun will shine on us."
"Oh, where would I be without you my superman?"
"I know it's hard, I know it is, but please honey, don't give up on the fight before it even starts. You deserve more than that and so do we."
May sniffs, "You're right Benny, I know you are."
Peter holds in his cries, 'Fuck… fuck!' He shakes his head, his clenched eyes blinking as they try to dry themselves. 'This can't be happening, it can't!'
He can't imagine a life without May and doesn't want to.
What can he do?
What.Can.He.Do?
.
.
.
'Money. They need money but even with the web fluid done it'll take months at the earliest to patent, which would take ten grand to properly do and who knows how long it'll take to sell.' Peter face screws up in horrified realization, 'I need money and fast but ho–'
"cl-thwip!"
"Whoa!" Miles' voice reaches his ears, further and higher than Ben or May, so in Teresa's room, "This looks awesome!"
"What?" Anya asks.
"What is it?" Teresa questions.
"Look." The boy's voice is filled with excitement.
He hears shifting, most likely the two girls moving closer to Miles.
"Cool, it looks pretty real." His sister notes.
"Yeah, Is it leaked footage from a movie or game? The video is a little shaky?" Anya wonders.
"Probably but whatever it is, I would love to see it." Miles oozes with eagerness.
"Me too."
"Me three!"
Peter feels the start of an idea forming, it's crazy but… but it's his only real shot at helping the two people who've been like his parents.
"Better than nothing, I guess." The boy mutters as he steps closer to his home, he grabs the knob to the door and twists it open, pushing into the house.
As he walks in he puts on a happy face, "Hey Ben, May!" He greets.
Ben smiles tightly, "Hey soldier, where've you been, you missed dinner?"
May didn't say anything, her eyes were wide as she looked her nephew up and down in astonishment.
Peter sits down across from them, "Oh, I went to Harry's."
His uncle's eyes widen and the tight smile vanishes, "Oh, that's great! How was it?"
"Fun, really fun. Harry is really invested, and took notes on everything I said…" Peter hesitates for a moment before committing, "Though he does need a lot of help, he's further behind than he implied, I was thinking of tutoring maybe four or five times a week, after school and on weekends."
The older man blinks, "Are you sure, I know the boy said he needed help but that seems excessive?" He questions with some trepidation.
"Yeah, he's failing almost all his classes, he needs a lot of help catching up, I already talked it over with him and he's all in."
Slowly he bobs his head, "Well it's your time, just call if you're going to come home late again, we were worried."
Peter agrees, "Of course." He stands up and walks around the table to hug his guardians, "Love you guys." He kisses Ben cheek and then May's before heading towards the stairs up to the second floor of the house.
"Hey, soldier."
"Yeah?" He stops and turns around to look at his uncle.
"Take a shower, please." Ben tells him.
The boy blushes, "Yeah, alright." He turns back and walks up.
As he reaches the second floor he hears May speak.
"Ho…how? Peter looks like a completely different person, do… do you think it's drugs or–"
"May, it's Peter. Do you really think he would take steroids or whatever? We raised him better than that." The retired marine says resolutely, "It's puberty, it hits like a brick to the face sometimes, I shoot up five inches between the summer of my freshmen and sophomore year of high school."
May gurgle something in the back of the throat, "I guess but… his eyes? They're yellow! And what about his glasses? Why isn't he wearing his glasses?"
"Don't you remember, I took Peter to get some contacts a few years ago, he never took' to them but maybe he's giving them another shot. And those glasses were thick, they dulled his eyes. "
His aunt hums, her heart calming down and seemingly buying Ben's words, "His hair is so bright, I wonder if he'll tell me what dye he used?"
Peter breathes a sigh of relief as he walks to his room, passing his sister's door on the way, he takes a step back in front of it and gives it a knock, "Hey Te, I'm back. Just want to say I love you and good night."
"Night Pete." His sister responds.
"Night-night, Petey!" Anya says next.
"Goodnight Peter." Miles expresses.
"Night guys." The older boy walks away and opens the door to his own room before entering, he closes it behind him and tosses Ben's shoes off and falls onto his bed.
He stares at the white ceiling, trying to organize his mind. The genius needs to come up with a game plan.
Outright revealing his powers is out, he'd become a lab right instantly. Stolen away at night without warning.
So an alter ego then, he records his stunts and pretends that his regular self caught them. Documenting the first superhuman exploits as a… journalist of some sort.
But it can't be put into question that his alter ego exists, so he needs notoriety, to make a scene. His first official appearance needs to be somewhere popular with lots of people, like Time Square.
Okay, step one done.
Step two, he needs to record himself and be the only one to do so or at least the only one with viable, clear footage and or pictures. If other people can do it, then what's the point?
A drone with motion tracking would do and a device that will corrupt his image when others try to capture it, not by much but enough that people will flock to his own.
Step two, done.
What else? What else does he need?
Peter needs a place for people to flock to, not just Tiktok or Instagram but somewhere that people actually have to pay to see it.
Well, if he's going to document his alter ego as a journalist then maybe that place needs to be a newspaper, digital of course but what person under thirty reads the newspaper?
No one, a blog then.
Step three, over.
Okay, okay.
He needs material for the drone and the camera for the drone, needs to create the software for motion tracking and create a website for his blog.
Peter also needs an outfit, one that actually fits and covers his face. It also needs to be eye-catching, so he's easy to spot and point at.
Wearing regular clothes isn't going to win him any points, if he wants people to be interested and stay interested then a red hoodie won't cut it.
So much to do and not a lot of time to do it. He sits up before standing, he removes his clothes as he walks to his bathroom to take a shower.
As he pushes the door open and turns on the light, he steps towards the tub. Pulling back the curtain, the boy turns the handle and pulls, he waits as the head spraying water warms.
When it does, Peter steps in.
As he lets the water wash over his body another thought pops in.
'I also need a PayPal!' He thinks, 'I can't believe I almost forgot I needed a place to keep the money from all this.' Shaking his head, he presses it against the tiled wall and sighs. "That would have been embarrassing."