"What were you thinking?!" Aunt May yelled.
"I was just trying to help," I argued.
"By leaving Mary Jane alone to go into a war zone?!"
"She was safe—"
"I don't care, Peter! What you did was wholly irresponsible and dangerous! You were lucky to be alive! I don't understand why you would do something like that!"
"I... I wanted to help—"
"Are you the police?! Are you the army?! You are just a child, Peter, and—"
"And because of me, one man is going home tonight to his family!" I snapped. "I saved his life, and many more. I don't regret what I did."
May looked horrified. I don't think Peter had ever snapped back at her like that before, but then again — I wasn't Peter Parker.
"May, maybe we should call it a night," Uncle Ben spoke softly. "Go on, go to bed. I'll handle this."
"But Ben, I—"
"It's alright, May. Just go." Ben gently guided her. She nodded sadly, turned, and left, leaving Ben and me alone at the dining table.
"I didn't mean to snap," I apologised.
"It's alright, Peter. I understand," he said softly.
"I was just trying to help. I didn't mean—"
"I understand, Peter," he repeated, even softer this time. "You have to realise — you're all May and I have. If we lost you..."
"I saved someone, Uncle Ben. Isn't that what you always taught me? If I can help someone, isn't it my duty to do so?"
"Yes, I suppose it is," he smiled. "Go to bed, Peter. We'll talk about this in the morning. Don't forget you have school tomorrow."
I nodded. "Right... good night, Uncle Ben."
"Good night, Peter," he replied as I walked upstairs to my room and locked the door behind me.
I sat down on my bed and sighed, picking up the busted web shooter and turning it over in my hands. It was a complete mess.
I worked on it for a while before giving up. It was broken — I needed to build a new one. Actually, if I was serious about the whole hero business, I needed to upgrade the entire system. The new shooters would need to hold more webbing, and maybe I could even develop different types of web formula. That would have been incredibly useful against the Abomination.
Suddenly there was a knock at my window. I swept the web shooter off my desk before looking up and finding MJ waving at me through the glass.
I blinked in confusion as I opened the window. "Peepers? How did you—"
"Climb up your tree," she pointed to the large tree growing next to my window. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah, sure." I stepped aside to let her in and shut the window behind her. "So what's up?"
"Nothing. Did your aunt and uncle give you a hard time?"
I sighed. "Yeah, but I deserve it. You?"
"No. Aunt Anna understood it wasn't anyone's fault. If anything, she thinks I should have gone with you. Honestly, though, she wouldn't stop talking about how amazing you were."
"Hm. Not amazing — maybe spectacular," I snickered.
"Don't go growing an ego on me, Parker," MJ hissed. "But yeah, you were pretty cool tonight. Especially the way you saved that man's life. That lamppost must have weighed a ton."
I shrugged. "Maybe. But I didn't really notice — too busy trying to save him."
"Hm. You're really slim for such a strong guy," MJ noted, eyeing my lean frame. "You barely have a muscle to show."
I gulped. "Well, you know how it is. Adrenaline and all that." She was being suspicious. Not good.
"Maybe," she said, trailing off. "Anyway, I just came to make sure you were alright."
"Thanks. I'm fine. If anything, I'm a little tired."
"Really? Because I can't sleep," MJ grumbled. "Too nervous."
"Why? The Hulk ran away, and I'm pretty sure the army has the other guy locked up."
"No, not that," she grumbled. "School. I'm starting my first day tomorrow!"
I chuckled. "Oh, that. Relax, MJ — there's no reason to panic. It's just classes. You'll do fine."
"Yeah, but I mean... what if they don't like me?"
I shrugged. "Who cares? Besides, I doubt they won't — you're smart and you look great. The guys will be falling over themselves and the girls will want to be your best friend."
She smiled. "You think so?"
I nodded. "I know so. So relax. High school isn't the end of the world." MJ smiled at that. We talked into the night, just the two of us. When she finally left I was glad to have made a friend — a real one. Maybe one day she could be more, but for now, a friend was more than enough.
---
The next day:
I was in the Daily Bugle the very next morning. Well, not me exactly — but they had the Hulk's fight on the front covers and a grainy photo of me off to the side. It looked like I was already being called things. Right now, they were going with 'Webs.'
The article itself was fair and balanced, which was surprising considering it was the Bugle we were talking about. But to be fair, I had saved the lives of soldiers, and even the Bugle couldn't fully ignore that.
The report actually called me a hero once, noting how impressive it was for someone like me to stand up to a creature like the Abomination. From various eyewitness accounts at the scene, it seemed the general consensus was that watching me face it had been like seeing David take on Goliath.
I smiled. Maybe this time around, Spider-Man wouldn't end up being labelled a menace.
With that settled and a healthy breakfast in my stomach, it was time to go to school.
MJ and I took the bus together. We talked about what subjects she was taking and the people she would meet — needless to say, she was nervous. We arrived at Midtown High to find the whole campus already crawling with students, talking, gossiping, and generally causing as much noise as possible.
I led her into the crowded hallways. "Welcome to Midtown High," I announced, gesturing to the chaos of shouting and shoving.
"I think I'll fit right in," MJ said with a smile.
"That you will, Peepers."
"Please stop calling me that."
"No."
"I didn't even mean to pep."
"No."
"I hate you."
I smirked. "No."
I led her down the hall, introducing her to the various cliques and factions one could find in any American high school. There were the jocks, the cheerleaders, the theatre kids, the goths, the skaters, the drama club obsessives, the normal crowd — and then there was me. The kid too smart to be a regular geek and too desperate for acceptance to be a proper hipster.
We had first period together, so after a quick stop at the counsellor's office I guided her to our first class. The moment we entered, Flash Thompson seemed to notice me first.
"Hey, everybody! Check it out! Punk Parker's back!"
"Ha! What's the matter, Parker? Did you finally recover from the itsy spider bite?" mocked Kong, Flash's right-hand man and a heavyset fellow.
I rolled my eyes. "Wonderful. Bullies. Like this place wasn't stereotypical enough."
Flash grew enraged. "What the hell'd you just say—" He stopped dead as he noticed MJ standing next to me. He gulped. "Woah."
MJ turned to me. "Are they always like this?"
I shrugged. "Not with everyone — just with me. I think it's because Flash has a crush on me and is too scared to admit it."
That snapped him out of it. "What?! Listen here, Parker, I ain't gay!"
"And what's wrong with being gay?" asked Zack, an openly gay kid in our class.
"N-nothing! It's just — I ain't gay, is all!"
I shrugged. "Whatever," and put my bag down, rolling my neck.
"So, ah — you're new here?" Flash asked MJ in what he clearly thought was a subtle way.
"Yeah. I'm Mary Jane. Nice to meet you," she smiled.
"Hey, Mary Jane. I'm Flash — this is Kong. If you need anything, babe, just ask us." He ended this with a raised eyebrow.
I gagged. "Truly, Flash, you've mastered the art of seduction."
"What's it to you, Parker?" Flash growled.
I shrugged. "Nothing. Please, continue. I believe you were flirting with the new girl."
"Shut it, Parker!" Flash yelled, face going red.
"Stop it, Tiger — you're embarrassing him," MJ teased with a grin.
"Fine," I rolled my eyes.
"So where are you from?" Liz Allen — blonde, blue-eyed, head cheerleader — asked MJ.
"I'm from upstate, but I recently moved in with my aunt," MJ explained.
"So what are you into?" asked Crystal, another cheerleader.
"Well, I like fashion, singing, theatre — that sort of thing."
"Oh! Did you see the new Chanel line? It's so good!"
MJ nodded. "Yeah, though I'm not a fan of their perfumes. Too strong for my taste."
"I know, right!" Liz's eyes lit up like she'd just found a new best friend. I watched as MJ slipped into the popular crowd effortlessly. Flash, Liz, Kong, a couple of the other social royalty — all of whom were apparently considered gods of popularity according to Peter's memories.
"So wait — how do you know Parker?" Liz asked, glancing at me with barely concealed disdain.
"What? Oh — he's my neighbour," MJ explained.
"Oh, okay. Hey, sit with us, MJ! We'll show you around after class."
"Thanks, but Peter already promised to—"
"Parker?" Flash snorted. "Please. That wimp wouldn't know where the toilet is."
"No, Flash — I do know where the toilets are. After all, you tried to give me swirlies in there plenty of times," I snapped.
MJ's eyes went wide. "He what?"
Flash turned to me and hissed under his breath, "Don't blow this for me, Parker, or I'll make sure next time I won't flush before I dunk you."
I raised a single eyebrow. "Did you just threaten me?"
"And what if I did?" he growled.
I looked at him and snorted. "I'd like to see you try."
Flash growled. "Today. After school. In the park."
I remembered this from the original story — in the Ultimate Spider-Man comics, Flash challenged Peter to a fight, Peter kicked his ass, broke his arm, and in return Flash's parents sued Aunt May and Uncle Ben. It made life incredibly difficult for them, and I had absolutely no intention of repeating that mistake.
"Sorry, big guy — but I have no interest in a measuring contest with you. I don't need to prove anything."
"Why, you little—"
"Settle down, class!" The teacher walked in, stopping Flash mid-sentence. "That means you, Mr. Thompson."
Flash glared at me. "Next time."
I snorted. Yeah, no.
"Come on, MJ — sit with us!" Liz pulled MJ toward the back of the room, away from me. MJ looked like she wanted to object but couldn't get a word out before Liz swept her away, leaving me standing alone.
I sighed, sat down in my seat, and half-listened to whatever the teacher was covering. It was English class — not my favourite.
At the end of class I got up to try and speak to MJ, but before I could even take a step she was swept away by Liz and the others into their next lesson. Which, coincidentally, was math — with the rest of them.
As I walked to my own next class, the reality settled over me. I was alone. Peter didn't have anyone. Even the one friend I'd somehow managed to make had been swept away in a matter of moments.
I was going to be alone again.
During Chemistry I had no problem keeping up with the lesson — it was a little boring after a while, honestly. I didn't even bother taking notes.
But near the very end of class, the teacher mentioned how graphite chain structures were remarkably strong and that altering their molecular arrangement could dramatically change their tensile strength. Something clicked in my mind. I had an idea about how to incorporate a graphite-chain lattice into my web formula.
The rest of the day went the same way as the first couple of classes. I was either ignored or quietly avoided by everyone. Even the teachers seemed to accept that I knew everything already, and stopped calling on me.
Honestly, by lunch I was wondering why Peter had ever bothered with school. He was smart enough to start college at any time. So why had he stayed?
The answer hit me as I sat down alone at the table furthest from everyone, right next to the rubbish bins. Peter didn't leave because he was lonely. Somewhere deep down, he believed that college would be no different from high school — that people would shun him wherever he went. So it was better to stick with the devil he knew rather than trade it for one he didn't.
I suppose that after a certain point, high school becomes about more than academics. It's supposed to be an important period for developing social skills. Peter had been hoping his would eventually kick in. Sadly, no luck so far.
As I bit into Aunt May's homemade tuna sandwich, I noticed MJ and her new friends had just entered the lunch hall. They all laughed and chatted like there was nothing else in the world.
I didn't understand it. Was she really that shallow? Did she genuinely not care a bit about me? Was the week we'd spent laughing and talking into the night nothing but a way to pass the time? Did she get played?
Just then another student walked up to the group. He wore expensive clothes and a carefully styled haircut. One look and I knew who he was without even needing Peter's memories.
Harry Osborn.
"Harry!" Liz smiled. "Come sit here! Meet the new girl!"
Harry grinned. "Gladly. Hey — I'm Harry Osborn." He winked as he sat down next to Mary Jane, very closely.
MJ blushed at his forwardness. "H-hey. I'm MJ."
Liz grinned. "Careful, Osborn — I think she's in love!"
"Liz!" MJ shrieked, her face as red as her hair.
Harry laughed. "I don't mind. I've never had someone so pretty fall for me before, so it's quite the ego boost."
I couldn't stand the sight of them. All the good feelings I'd built up with MJ turned bitter fast. Was I being petty and stupid? Probably. But it just didn't feel fair. I stuffed the rest of my lunch into my mouth and walked away without looking back, even as my ears caught the sound of her laugh drifting across the hall.
I walked down the corridor — pissed, alone. I hated being alone. And I was surrounded by idiots. It wasn't as though I'd been a genius in my past life, nothing like that. But I'd always been able to hold a decent conversation with people. And now? With Peter's IQ? Finding someone I could actually talk to as an equal felt impossible. I'd need to hang out with Tony Stark for that to happen.
No wonder Peter had held himself back so much. If he'd let himself go, he would have gone mad being surrounded by these people eons ago.
I found the Chemistry lab empty and open — exactly as I knew it would be. Peter used to retreat here to escape Flash, and now it seemed it would become my sanctuary too.
I began working through some chemical combinations, trying to work the graphite-chain structure I'd theorised into the web formula. I spent the whole break there, and before I knew it, class had resumed.
The school day ended with History last period, which MJ and I shared. She laughed and joked with her new friends all through it, and when the bell rang she walked up to me on her way out.
"Hey, Peter!" MJ cheered as we walked toward the school bus.
I felt the anger flare up in my chest, but I kept it in check. She was just a girl. She hadn't fully understood what she was doing. It was pointless getting angry at her.
So I put on a cheerful fake smile. "Hey, MJ."
"I swear, this has been like the best first day ever!" MJ gushed. "I didn't think I'd meet so many people who liked me! Liz was amazing, Pete! You should see the way she—"
I shrugged. "I'm glad you made friends. Told you there was nothing to worry about."
"Yeah, you were right. Anyway, I talked to her about the theatre programme you guys have and, wow — did you know they put on three plays a year?! I should try out for the December production. What do you think? Should I go for it?"
I nodded. "Try it out. You might not get a big part right away, but everyone has to start somewhere."
And just like that I had to sit and listen to her tell me how great her new life was. Was I being petty? Maybe. But where was the loyalty? I hadn't done anything wrong — it was as though she genuinely couldn't see it.
We were dropped off at the same stop and walked home together. We reached our neighbouring houses and I turned to go.
"Hey, Pete — do you want to come over?" MJ asked. "Aunt Anna probably made cookies if you want some."
"No, I'm fine," I waved her off. "I'm just tired. The stress from yesterday is catching up with me. I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow, MJ."
MJ blinked. "Are you okay, Peter? You seem a bit off."
"Just tired," I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine tomorrow."
"Well... if you're sure. Bye," she replied softly. I waved goodbye and walked inside, shutting the door behind me.
"Peter? How was school?" Aunt May called from the kitchen.
"Fine. Just fine. I'm going to my lab, Aunt May. Call me if you need something," I called back as I walked down to the basement and dropped my bag at the workstation.
I took out my notes on the new formula and got to work. It took me the rest of the afternoon, but I finally managed to synthesise a proper batch. Then I began testing it.
This new formula reacted to applied pressure. The more force it experienced, the harder it became. I began running tests. I found I could create webbing that was as pliable as rubber at low pressure, tough as concrete under high stress, and anywhere in between — with a middle-ground variant that balanced elasticity with tensile strength.
I didn't know what had gotten into me, but the time just seemed to slip away. Aunt May came down to ask what I wanted for dinner and, after making sure to hide all my equipment quickly, I told her I wasn't hungry.
Maybe it was the sting of being forgotten. Maybe it was simply my anger at being ignored. But whatever it was, it gave me focus. I knew what I had to do and I knew how to do it.
It was two in the morning when I completed all tests on the new formula, including a set of working schematics for the Mark II web shooters. These would be more compact and capable of holding a much larger webbing supply. They were going to take some time to build, but it would be worth it.
I tried to go to bed, but I wasn't sleepy. I was restless. I looked out the window at the quiet suburban street below me, but just beyond it, near the horizon, New York City glittered with lights and the distant promise of adventure.
I couldn't go all the way into the city — but I sure as hell wasn't going to stay locked inside. I put on dark clothes, opened the window, jumped out, and landed perfectly without even thinking about it.
I began to jog. Slowly at first, just to get my heart rate up. But soon I got curious — just what could this body actually do at full speed?
So, with a grin, I let loose.
The houses blurred past me. I found I was running faster than I had ever moved in my life — maybe twenty miles an hour? Maybe more? I had never run professionally before in my life. Or in Peter's life, for that matter.
I ended up running all the way out of the suburbs and into town. I sprinted past late-night delis and corner stores still lit up. No one paid me much attention — I supposed people running around at odd hours wasn't particularly unusual in New York.
Eventually I found myself at the abandoned train yard a few blocks from home. Peter used to come here when his experiments had a more... explosive tendency that was best kept away from residential areas. Jumping the tall fence had always been the hard part, but now I could clear it in a single leap.
The place had one enormous rusted hangar, surrounded by overgrown weeds. People didn't come here often — even kids looking for somewhere to hang out tended to avoid it, put off by the general state of decay.
I came here for an entirely different reason.
I went up to the hangar doors and grabbed the handles. I pulled with everything I had, and they groaned loudly before slowly grinding open.
Inside I found several types of old machinery. There was a stack of railway lines off to one side — some ten feet long, others thirty feet or more. There were chains hanging from the ceiling and what appeared to be a dormant generator in the corner.
The place honestly felt like it could become my secret base. My home away from home. It just needed... well, a lot of work.
But first things first — maybe it was time to see what I was really made of.
I walked up to one of the ten-foot railway segments and grabbed hold of both sides. I gripped as hard as I could, braced my feet, and heaved.
To my immense surprise, I found myself holding the beam of metal over my head with a victorious grin on my face.
I set it down and panted. This was incredible. It must have weighed five hundred pounds — maybe more. And I had military-pressed it straight off the floor. On a first attempt. With no prior training.
I couldn't become a powerlifter, though. Spider-Man was always more of a gymnast than a brawler — like Nightwing. He was... exactly like...
Oh.
And then it hit me like one of those railway beams.
Who were the two most celebrated heroes in all of Marvel and DC?
Spider-Man and Batman.
Neither of them relied on overwhelmingly superhuman power or some kind of cheap get-out clause to win their fights. Well, Batman did have the utility belt — but that was the point. Spider-Man and Batman were more alike than most people realised. They had both suffered devastating loss, and that loss gave them a purpose. For Bruce it was vengeance. For Peter it was responsibility.
They were both focused on street-level crime, too. While other heroes were off fighting aliens and interdimensional threats, Batman and Spider-Man stuck to their cities. Sure they got swept into the bigger fights from time to time, but they always came back to where it mattered.
There were plenty of differences, certainly — their personalities, the fact that Peter was perpetually broke while Bruce was wealthier than God.
But there were similarities as well. They both fought primarily with their fists and their minds. They were both considered invaluable despite being far below the power ceiling of heroes like Thor or the Hulk.
Even some of their enemies mirrored each other. The Joker and the Green Goblin. Black Cat and Catwoman. Sandman and Clayface. The list went on. But I was starting to see something else — Peter and Bruce were reflections of one another. One was given powers to complement his intelligence; the other had only his training and his mind. If I was going to be Spider-Man, I couldn't just be Spider-Man. I had to be better. I had to be superior to the original.
...God, that sounded a lot like Otto.
But back to the point. If I was going to improve on Batman, I'd give him spider powers — make him an even more lethal combat operative. Give him the enhanced intelligence to think of solutions that would never have occurred to the unaugmented human mind.
But improving on Spider-Man? That was a taller order.
I would need to fight like Batman — master so many combat disciplines that opponents couldn't predict me. I would need to be strategic about fighting crime rather than just swinging in headfirst. I would need to learn everything I possibly could about law enforcement, forensics, criminology — things I might previously have dismissed as irrelevant.
I couldn't have access to billions in resources. But I could build my own gadgets from scratch. It would be difficult — maybe even thankless work for a long time — but if I could do it, the results would be extraordinary.
I felt a wide grin spreading across my face. I imagined a synthesis of Spider-Man and Batman — a hero unlike any other. A hero who could go beyond the call of duty. A hero who could genuinely protect people.
But... it was just so much.
I leaned against the hangar wall and stared at the rusted ceiling. Why should I go through all this trouble? For people I didn't even know?
Why... no. I couldn't think like that. I had seen what the battle between the Hulk and Abomination did to a neighbourhood. I needed to be a hero. I had to be. And if I was going to do it, why settle for being mediocre? Why just be a wall-crawler when I could be so much more?
I stood up with a confidence I hadn't expected to feel. I had a goal. To be the greatest hero I possibly could — not because of loss or guilt or some tragic backstory, but because people needed me and I needed to give them my absolute best.
I got back home and turned on my computer. I started searching online for the skills I would need to acquire. It felt a little stupid — googling how to become a superhero — but I needed to start somewhere.
I made a list. Things I would need to learn. Arts of war, science, strategy, stealth. To become the best, I would need all of it.
To become the Spider-Bat... yeah, no. Maybe I should just stick with Spider-Man.
I found a dojo that taught a mixed-styles curriculum — karate, judo, and taekwondo, each for a two-hour block from three to nine in the evening. Usually people would choose one discipline and focus on that. I intended to take all three.
I wouldn't be able to start going out and saving people right away. I didn't have a proper suit ready, and my web shooters still needed upgrades. I didn't even have a real plan of attack. So I needed to be patient, work in the shadows, and grow. Spider-Man wouldn't be born any time soon — no, this was going to require patience.
I would also need to study everything I could across multiple disciplines: mechanics, chemistry, and physics would be my core subjects. And perhaps I should broaden beyond that as well.
With my mind settled, I finally began to feel sleepy. With a smile, I went to bed. Strangely enough, that night I dreamed of bats and spiders.
Needless to say, I woke up screaming.