Part I of The Mistakes We Make

The alarm buzzed angrily with a loud, harsh sound. Peter groaned and slowly reached out a hand to slap the alarm into silence. Sunlight streamed through the window, an irritating ray of color, as Peter hauled himself out of bed and stumbled to his bathroom. Without opening his eyes to face that crude light, he managed to brush his teeth, half-heartedly comb his hair, and tug some frayed jeans over his briefs. He was halfway down the stairs when he yawned, stretched, and blinked in the morning light.

"Well look who's up and ready for school." said a grey-haired man sitting at the kitchen table, Peter's Uncle Ben.

"Morning." Peter said halfheartedly, slumping into his seat at the table.

"Did you sleep alright Pete?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, you must have." Uncle Ben leaned over his morning paper and picked at a spot of dried spittle on Peter's cheek. "I'd say you still have one foot in the sheets."

"Better than one foot in the grave, right?" Peter responded, batting away his uncle's hand and reaching for the cereal box on the table.

"You'll get there one day." Ben chuckled, squinting through his reading glasses at his paper. "Lord knows, I did."

As Peter began to eat, Ben took a drink from his coffee and looked at his watch.

"I've got to run to work. Check on your aunt before you leave, okay?"

Peter nodded, still drowsy as his uncle grabbed his coat and hobbled out of the kitchen. He heard the front door open and close, then heard the sound of Uncle Ben's ancient station-wagon backfire before roaring to life. It seemed like everything, save for Peter, was feeling the effects of age in this small, tired household.

Sighing, Peter finished his breakfast and loaded his bookbag before stopping his aunt's room on the way out. He gently woke her.

"Hey… Hey, Aunt May."

She was laying on her back, her shoulders propped on many pillows and a book in her lap.

"Peter," Her voice was weak, but she smiled at him just the same. "What time is it? You need to get to school."

"I'm going now, how are you feeling?"

"Oh," She shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not too bad this morning." She nodded to a collection of pill bottles on her nightstand. "Took my pills already, so I should be up in no time."

Peter put on a smile.

I wish, she's been out of commission for weeks.

"Well, I'll see you later okay?" Peter blew his Aunt a kiss and she pretended to catch it, laughing, as he backed out of the room and left.

Midtown High was a perpetual hell on earth to students and teachers alike. The school was held together by mold and crumbling walls, and filled with wobbly desks that teetered threateningly at the slightest jostle. It was a wonder how the place hadn't been shut down yet, especially when Midtown's abysmal test scores were taken into consideration. Peter was a part of the small minority of students who excelled at standardized tests.

As he walked up the front steps, Peter lamented, old words spoken by his Uncle echoing in his ears.

"Wish we could send you to one of those fancy prep-schools, Peter. Lord knows you have the brains for it. Maybe after I get that promotion…"

But the promotions never came, so neither did the money, and thus Peter would be finishing high school at Midtown.

"Hey, Pete!" a voice called behind him. "Peter, wait up!"

Peter turned to see his best friend Harry Osborn bounding towards him. His old friend was one of the few things that made this school bearable – along with Doctor Connors, of course.

"Harry, what's up?" Peter fell into step with Harry.

"I need to see your Calc homework from last night, man." Harry was already taking a notebook out of his backpack. "There are just a few problems I don't understand."

"It's always great to see you too pal." Peter rolled his eyes, taking out his own notebook and handing it to Harry. "Just give it back at lunch, alright?" They walked through the front doors and into the building.

"Hell yeah," Harry's eyes glistened greedily as he took Peter's work and began hastily comparing it to his own. "Thanks. My dad flipped shit when he looked at my report card last week. He's been really irritable lately, I can't afford to not turn in anymore homework."

"Yeah," Peter said, absentmindedly. They had just entered the school and he spotted something near the front doors that caught his eye. He hurried to a large display case, Harry trailing behind. "Shit man, can you believe this?"

"What?" asked Harry.

"Look, someone vandalized that photo I took at the last choir contest." Peter pointed at several poorly drawn mustaches decorating the faces of a prominently-framed photograph.

Harry laughed.

"I'd say it's an improvement," He pointed, smearing the glass with his index finger, and indicated a short blonde girl sporting a fabulous bushy ensemble in the front row. "I don't know what it is, but something about mustaches… you think it'd make the girls less cute, but no. It still works for me."

He grinned at Peter, who wasn't amused. Although Peter did silently agree that the blonde did look cute, mustache notwithstanding.

Harry clapped Peter on the shoulder.

"Cheer up, there will be more opportunities for you to stick your camera in people's faces, don't worry." A bell chimed from an intercom. "Come on, let's get to class."

"Parker!"

Oh great.

Peter had split with Harry to attend his first period, Biology, and was almost to the classroom when he suddenly found his path blocked by the barrel-chested Flash Thompson.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asked, flashing his yellow teeth. Peter sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a five-dollar bill.

Flash snatched it out of his hand. "Good boy." He put a meaty hand on Peter's chest and pushed him to the ground before swaggering down the hall. As was routine, Peter stood up and dusted himself off just as the bell rang. He sighed again and walked through the door, head low.

Doctor Curtis Connors looked up from his desk.

"Peter, you're late." He said, frowning.

"Sorry, Doctor Connors. I just missed the bell." Peter responded, slipping into his seat. This was an upper-level class with only a handful of students, making it hard to slip in unnoticed.

"Well, let's not let it happen again." Doctor Connors rifled through some papers on his desk and stood up. "Alright class, I've graded your tests on Hardy-Weinberg Equilibrium and I'm disappointed to say that nearly half of our class has failed." Everyone groaned loudly. Even in advanced courses, Midtown's best was subpar.

Connors tucked a stack of papers under the stump that was his right arm and walked around class handing out tests with his good hand. The good doctor had lost his arm during his stint in the military, though he never gave more details about what happened. Peter looked at his test as it was placed on his desk.

"Another 100 for Mister Parker." Doctor Connors smiled at him before moving along down the row.

When class had ended, Peter packed up his things and was almost out the door when Connors called him back.

"Peter, can you wait a minute?" He asked.

"Sure," Peter had been hoping to get to his next class before being intercepted by Flash again. "What's up, Doc?"

"I must say that I am impressed with your school work, no one in all my years of teaching has managed to keep a straight A in this course."

Not hard to believe considering my competition. Peter thought ruefully.

"Thank you, sir, I try." Peter said instead, making for the door again.

"I have to ask," Connors began, stopping Peter. "Have you considered what you're going to do after you graduate?"

"Um, I was kind of planning on moving into the city and, you know, college and stuff."

"Really?" Connors smiled. "How vague. Well, if you would like to join my family and I for dinner tonight, I could show you around the ESU lab. I could show off my star pupil and give you a taste of what a real school looks like. Also, you could try some of my wife's brownies, no one else will."

"Wow – okay, sure!" Peter was taken by surprised. His mind started to race. "Okay I can get some photos of the lab for the school paper too! We're writing a story to inform kids about possible colleges and stuff."

"Then it's settled! I'm teaching a class at ESU tonight around 6, meet me there and then dinner afterwards. Sound like a plan?"

"It does to me! See you, Doctor Connors."

Peter headed out into the hall where he bumped into someone. Fearing it was Flash, Peter recoiled, only for Harry to grab him by the elbow and steady him.

"Easy, man." Harry looked pass Peter to where Connors was preparing for his next class. "What was that about?"

"Doctor Connors invited me to dinner."

"Wow," Harry laughed "He asked you out? I knew he had something for you, gives you perfect grades all the time. That's freaking hilarious."

"Screw you." Peter snapped, although he found it hard not to chuckled as they headed down the hall together.

That night, Peter waited outside Doctor Connors' classroom at ESU. The sound of hundreds of feet thundered through the halls as the door opened releasing a wave of older students. Peter squeezed himself against a wall to avoid being swept away. He eyed the university students awkwardly. They looked so professional and intimidating. When the majority had gone by him slipped into the class.

Doctor Connors was at his desk packing his things. The room was crowded with lab tables for students and a multitude of very scientific and expensive-looking equipment. Peter immediately raised his camera for a picture.

"Ah, Peter, you're early." Doctor Connors said, blinking as Peter's camera flashed.

"Well punctuality has always been a special skill of mine." Peter said as he weaved through the tables towards the doctor. Connors covered his eyes as Peter took a second photo.

"I suppose you're ready to get those shots then, huh?" He turned and motioned for Peter to follow him though a door and into the laboratory.

Wow this place is so awesome! Peter thought, his mouth drifting open.

"Is that a dilithium energy converter?" He asked rushing over to a particularly shiny machine. Connors smiled, resting his good hand in the pocket of his lab coat.

"Indeed it is. Good eye, Peter."

Lifting his camera, Peter took photos of almost every surface. This place was a wonderland to him.

"What's this?" He asked pointing to an odd-looking mechanism. It consisted of different spindles that spun around twisting a thin white strand into different shapes. It was hypnotizing to watch.

"This is a little project of mine," Connors reached onto a table next to the contraption and lifted a small silver pill. "I call it Bio-Cable. It's a type of wire I synthesized for electrical work, adhesive, elastic and very strong. A single container just like this could hold several hundred yards of the stuff. However, it acts as a poor conductor of electricity so as of now it has no real use."

"Pretty cool though." Peter mused as he examined the lab again. He paused when something else caught his eye. "What's this over here?"

Against a wall was a large shelf filled with small clear containers. Inside were dozens of spiders each with their own little box.

"That," Doctor Connors said, "is the real purpose of this laboratory, cross species experimentation. We are in the process of combining multiple genes from different species of spiders into a one genetically superior spider."

"Now that is cool."

"I'm glad you think…" Connors was interrupted by a knock on the door leading form the classroom. His wife and son entered, and Connors was quick to take Peter by the shoulder and steer him away from the spiders. "Peter let me introduce you to my family, this is Martha, my wife and one of ESU's greatest researchers, and my son, Billy."

"Nice to meet you." Peter said, shaking Martha Connors' hand.

"Likewise, it's always nice to meet one of Curt's prized students." Martha smiled at Peter before turning to her husband. "Are you showing him the lab? What do you think?"

"It's awesome!"

"Well you could work here just like Curt one day, you know."

"Yes, but there'll be time enough for that later. We should get going if we want to eat at a reasonable hour." Connors interjected, ushering everyone towards the door.

Peter was mildly disappointed. He hadn't spent much time in the lab at all. He was taking one last look around the lab when he felt a sharp pain on his left hand.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, shaking it vigorously.

"Are you okay?" Martha asked.

"Yeah," Peter said looking at his hand which was already beginning to swell. "I think something bit me."

"Here let me see." Doctor Connors examined Peter's hand, then glanced over towards the cases full of spiders. He frowned then turned back to Peter's wound. "Hmm looks like a bee sting or spider bite."

Peter balked.

"It wasn't one of your super spiders was it?" He asked, rubbing the bite as it began to itch.

"No, I'm sure it wasn't." Connors chuckled. "I keep those locked up tight. There's no way one could have gotten out. Let's get you to the house so we can fix you up."

Peter followed the Connors family from the lab, rubbing his hand all the while.

Peter waved goodbye to the Connors family as they drove away, having dropped him off at his aunt and uncle's house. He scratched at the bandage around his hand. It was still throbbing painfully. When he got inside, he found his Aunt and Uncle were eating their own dinner.

"Peter," His Aunt May smiled. "How was school?"

"It was okay." Peter shuffled towards the stairs.

"Are you hungry? We got Pad Thai"

"No thanks I already ate." He disappeared up into his room. Uncle Ben smiled at his wife.

"Teenagers, they never seem have much time to chat do they?" He said.

"Nope," Chuckled May. "I guess not."

Up in his room, Peter swayed on his feet. The room spun, and he stumbled to his desk. Gripping the edge for support, he tried to reach his bed.

What's happening? I felt fine earlier.

Peter fell to the floor. Suddenly it felt as if his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He started to panic. He opened his mouth and tried to call out to his aunt and uncle, but he merely managed a soft gasp before he passed out.

Blood splattered against the mirror. Norman Osborn grappled with a fit of coughing as he gripped the edges of the sink until his knuckles turned paper white. He looked up at the blood splattered mirror and into his pale face. He was a gaunt old man, close to death.

What's that old saying? Do not go softly into that good night. We'll see..

Osborn stood up straighter and used a pristine, white towel to wipe up the blood. He then picked up his lab coat from where he had laid it on the counter and shrugged it on. He coughed softly, tasting copper.

This is my last chance. It must work.

He left the bathroom and started down the hallway to the laboratory. Years of planning and months of testing had come down to this. He didn't have time to spare. He looked around at all the scientists working. They were scribbling on paper or bending over microscopes.

I created this, all of this.

Oscorp, the pride and joy of Norman's life and the scientific juggernaut of the east coast. All of it could be taken away by the two trivial words, "lung cancer". It infuriated Norman how something so seemingly insignificant could come to bring him – a near god among men - to his knees, but no more.

Tonight, everything changes.

Norman used a special key, kept on a chain around his neck, to unlock a door in the rear of the lab and slipped out of sight. He coughed as he strode confidently to a computer bank affixed to the wall. Performance enhancers were the key. He could heal himself, heal anyone with his formula. He typed in a code into the computer and a compartment slide open in the wall.

I can change the world. I shouldn't waste time running tests and pouring over notes. Human trials are what I need.

And what better test subject than a man with no time. Norman Osborn took out a green vile and the compartment slide shut again. He seated himself on a chair and held the key to physical perfection in his hand.

Here goes nothing.

He uncapped the vile and drank.