Gotham city was meant to be the new jewel of America, a hub of invention and wealth and dreams. It had the ideal location for trade, had wealthy investors willing to move there at premium discounts, had leaders with initiative and drive. Then the recession hit and Gotham turned into a cesspit of crime and poverty, misfortune clinging to its streets like the damp pools of water that perpetually flood the lower streets and alleys.

Similarly, Peter Parker was meant to go far in life. He had the intelligence, he had the motivation, he had the supportive family. Then his uncle died and Peter turned into a bitter and angry boy with amazing powers he was only beginning to learn the extent of.

The first time Peter goes out is for revenge. He crawls up and down the skyscrapers of Gotham stalking his prey and makes an example out of him in front of his friends. He's angry and vicious, and gives the scumbag what he deserves for killing the man that had taken Peter in as a kid.

He makes the papers. J. Jonah Jameson, editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle, calls him a menace, says he's terrorizing the good citizens of Gotham. While reading the article Peter gets an idea.

Well, he gets a lot of ideas, ones that fit into a vague framework he doesn't dare think about directly. The first one is that next time he needs evidence – hard proof of his target's crimes. His aim isn't at the 'good citizens' of anything – it's those people that flaunt the rules because they've built a web of safety in a city as corrupt as they are.

He needs to show them that their web is being taken over by a larger predator – one that won't be afraid to tie them up and leave them for the cops. That requires more than just isolated incidents. No, what Peter needs is a campaign. And a campaign requires design, materials, and research.

The design is easy: a spider, small and deadly, crawling after and tying up bad guys one by one. It's easy to adapt his rudimentary outfit to it. He already has the black cloth that blends in so well with the grime of Gotham. The rest is just flair.

Other materials require money and access. Peter has the latter from his lab internships, and he can walk out with a fair amount, but some things he has to buy and money comes in stops and starts. For now, it's acceptable; he still has planning to do and Aunt May, looking at him with more and more sorrow every day, to reassure.

He hits the library for guerrilla warfare tactics, magician's tricks, psychological warfare, histories of organized crime. Anything that seems like it'd help. He devours the information faster than one of his science textbooks and tests out what he learns in old abandoned warehouses by the waterfront. He practices walking into mob businesses and acting like he's one of the muscle, practices tailing people he knows and ducking away when they recognize him, practices getting in fights and pitting his extrasensory ability against bigger and bigger thugs. He practices lying to Aunt May when she worriedly wipes blood from his chin and asks him what trouble he's gotten himself into.

It's hard and exhausting, to add this on top of his schoolwork and job, as well as trying to keep Aunt May in the dark when she sees the injuries he comes home with (Peter's never trusting what he reads on that website again) and the clothes he's ruined during his trials. But the drive to act is more powerful than his concern. Every day the newspaper reports rapes, muggings, drug shootings, missing people, and murders. He can't sit idly by, not when he has the power to change things like so many kids from the Narrows wish they could. So he collects information and makes plans, bides his time until the costume and its accoutrements are ready.

He dons the mask and falls from his window, shoots his webslinger and swings into the air. This time when he makes the papers, they have a name for him.