1: A Different Responsibility
"A child?" Abin Sur gurgled out in disbelief as bloody purple foam seeped from between his teeth. What sorry state was this "Terra" in if a child was the one most worthy of wielding the Ring's power? Even as he pondered this, Abin could feel the life bleeding out of him and realized that he did not have the time to dawdle on such trivial thoughts. "L-listen to me, boy," he told the youth with labored breaths, "There… there is not much time."
Peter Parker could only gawk as he was suspended in the air in a bubble of some kind of… solid green light. How had this happened? Five minutes ago he'd been in detention and had just stepped out to use the bathroom. Now he was standing, floating rather, on a beach in front of a crashed spaceship and an honest-to-God alien! How had this happened?
The Day Before
"Seriously, Flash?" Gwen Stacy asked before letting an irritated breath out of her nose, "What is this, fourth grade?" She was a pretty young blonde in a pink hoodie and jeans with big blue eyes that were at this moment fixed in an agitated expression behind her eyeglasses. The source of that agitation was Flash Thompson, the star athlete of Midtown High School. He was tall and athletic with a coif of blonde hair and a strong jaw. He was also holding a blue composition notebook in his hand and out of Gwen's reach. Going by the fact that it said "Gwen Stacy" on the cover, however, it was presumably not his. "Just give it back!" Flash smirked as he leaned against a locker and flipped through the notebook.
"Relax, Gwen," he said with fake innocence, "I just wanted to look at your notes. You know we've got that big science test coming up, and I don't have time to study." Kenny "Kong" McFarlane chuckled as he stood by Flash's side, a bald mountain of a teen that was even taller than Flash… if not quite as fit.
"Then you could just ask," Gwen huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest, "And besides, that isn't even my science notebook! That's personal!" Flash chuckled and his eyebrows raised up with intrigue.
"Oh really?" he asked and grinned as he started to read. Gwen made a move to go at him when a voice made them all stop and look.
"Just give it back, Flash," Peter Parker said. He was a lanky youth with dark brown eyes and shaggy brown hair in brown cargo pants and a blue t-shirt with a satchel slung diagonally across his chest. "Before something happens that you'll regret." Gwen winced as Peter walked towards them and looked around for a teacher to call. Peter was a good guy but if he kept playing the hero like this he was going to get killed. Peter glared up at Flash as the jock smirked down at him. "Drop it." Peter insisted as sternly as he could. Flash scoffed and Peter shoved him in the chest with both hands. Flash took a step back, more surprised that Peter actually did something rather than being moved by any actual force Peter put into it, and the composition book fell from his hands. Gwen scooped the book off the floor and hoped that would be the end of it. Flash's shocked expression transformed into a glare to let Gwen know that, of course, it wasn't. Kong had walked around behind Peter while his attention was on Flash and shoved him forward to Flash who grabbed Peter by the lapels of his shirt and yanked him off the ground. Given that the other two weighed more than three Peter Parkers it would have probably gotten much worse if Harry Osborne hadn't arrived with a teacher.
"Moby Dick!" the teacher exclaimed, "What's going on here?!" A heavyset man with a bald head and pointed beard, their English teacher had a strange habit of using famous literary works as expletives. Flash quickly dropped Peter back to his feet and held up his hands defensively.
"Peter started it!" Flash insisted while Kong nodded along. Peter could only gape in shock.
"Oh, come on! You can't believe that!" he protested, "Flash took Gwen's notebook and wasn't going to–" the teacher held up a hand.
"That's quite enough, Mr. Parker," he said, "You know the rules about violence in this school. Report to the principal's office!" Peter groaned and ran his hands down his face as the teacher walked off. Aunt May and Uncle Ben were gonna kill him! Flash and Kong walked down the hall while they chuckled to themselves and Gwen put a hand on Peter's shoulder.
"Thanks for doing that," she said appreciatively, "I mean, it was dumb, but thanks. You really shouldn't keep doing these kinds of things, Peter. You could get seriously hurt!" Peter gave a weak smile before he dropped his head and sighed.
"People can't let Flash do what he wants just because he's popular," he insisted, "Somebody's gotta stand up to jerks around here! Why not me?" Harry smirked as they walked with Peter down the hall. The Principal's office was in the same direction as their next class, after all.
"Oh, I can think of about three hundred reasons," he said as he playfully elbowed Peter in the ribs, "And that's just Kong's left buttcheek!" he laughed… no one else did. Harry's laughter died down quickly and he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Aaaanyway, it's not like anyone actually got beat up this time, and you're one of the top students at Midtown High. You'll be fine!"
As it turned out, Peter was not fine.
"Peter, I'm afraid this behavior is just not acceptable," Principal Coulson said in a wearisome tone. His hands were folded on the desk and he clearly was not enjoying having to have this conversation, "This isn't the first time you've gotten into a physical conflict with Eugene, and I'm worried that until you get seriously hurt you won't let it be the last." Peter squirmed uncomfortably in his seat across the principal's desk with his hands in his lap.
"But Principal Coulson," Peter insisted, "If no one stands up to Flash–"
"There are ways to deal with bullies like Eugene Thompson without resorting to physical violence," Coulson cut in, "You could have done the same thing Harry did and gotten a teacher, for example." Coulson sighed and leaned his elbows on the table with a regretful expression on his face. "Peter, I know you're just trying to do what you think is right and I don't think you should be punished for it. However, if you're going to learn any sort of lesson, I'm afraid that a punishment will be necessary." Peter winced prematurely and Coulson held up a hand. "Calm down, I'm not going to have you serve detention or anything like that," Peter all but sighed with relief, "You're not allowed to go on tomorrow's field trip."
In an instant, Peter's joy was gone and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He'd been looking forward to the trip to the New York University Science Center for months! Not just for the opportunity to meet Dr. Curt Connors and see Eddie Brock again, but he'd wanted so badly to see the school's display on genetic mutation. It was groundbreaking, ahead of everyone else in the country, maybe the world! And now he wasn't going to get to see them.
"Principal Coulson," he begged, "You can't be ser–"
"I'm afraid I can, Peter," he said sternly, "And I will." Peter groaned and fell back into his chair. "I'll also have to notify your Aunt and Uncle." Peter swallowed suddenly. As if his day couldn't get any worse. Peter walked sullenly out of the Principal's office and back to his next class, sitting down between Harry and Gwen in a slump.
"So," Harry said, "How'd it go?" Peter shot him a dirty look.
That Night
Peter was glad that his Aunt May and Uncle Ben hadn't brought it up when he'd got home. Or even at dinner. However, when Peter was washing the dishes, that was when Uncle Ben came over to him under the pretense of helping put the dishes on the drying rack.
"So," his uncle said, "We got a call from your principle today." Peter groaned and Uncle Ben chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought." he gave Peter a pat on the back. "I talked to your aunt and we agreed that you'd probably gotten a lecture from your principle already so you didn't want another one right away."
"Uncle Ben," Peter started to say, "People like Flash can't just–"
"I know," Uncle Ben said, "I know you were just trying to do the right thing, and I can understand. You're a lot like your father was. You're a good guy. But you can't just beat people up. There's more to being a good guy than that. I know you'll make us all proud some day, Pete." He gave Peter a pat on the shoulder and left Peter alone to finish the dishes.
"Thanks, Uncle Ben," Peter called. Uncle Ben reached the stairs and then turned around to look in the kitchen again.
"Your aunt still says no TV for a week." Peter groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Thanks, Uncle Ben." he muttered. He could hear Ben chuckling and couldn't help himself from grinning.
Ten Minutes Before
Peter sat in study hall and groaned as he tapped his pencil against his notebook. He'd already been doing classwork and homework for the last hour and a half. If he didn't find something else to do he was going to scream. He stood up with a grumble and walked out of the hall, to stretch his legs and use the bathroom if nothing else. Peter had barely taken two steps out of the bathroom when he caught a bright green glow out of the corner of his eye. He had half a second to register something tugging onto his finger before he was flying out of the school and rocketing through the sky. He was trapped in some kind of green bubble and screaming his head off. He was going faster than any plane. He was going faster than anything. What was going on?! A few minutes passed and his bubble came to a screeching halt in a baked desert landscape in… the American midwest? Where was he? In a few seconds, though, the where of Peter's predicament was almost immediately bowled over by the who and the what.
Peter stared down at what could only be an alien in shock, and that alien was leaning against a crashed vehicle that could only be a spacecraft. He was bald, with pinkish-purple skin in a green-and-black uniform with a strange insignia on the chest. He had a bloody gash ripped through his abdomen and his breath was shallow.
"A-are you okay?" Peter asked. That was a stupid question. "D-do you need help?" That was a stupider question. The alien squinted at him in confusion and disbelief.
"A child?" he wheezed out painfully as purple foam flecked between his teeth, "L-listen to me, boy. There is not much time. My name... is Abin Sur. I am a member of the Green Lantern Corps, the great peacekeeping force in…" he paused to cough and clutched painfully at his wound. "I suppose it does not matter." he muttered weakly. "What is your name, boy?"
"P-Peter Parker." Peter stammered, "My name is Peter Parker. What do you need from me?" Abin nodded and the bubble dissolved from around Peter, dumping him onto the ground as it came onto Abin's finger again. He visibly strained as a beam of light arced into the spacecraft and pulled out… a lantern made of green metal.
"You have been chosen," Abin Sur told him, taking the ring slowly from his finger and holding out to Peter "To be the Green Lantern of Sector 2814." Peter took the green ring and his trembling fingers and stared at it in confusion.
"Chosen? Me? Wh-why?" Peter was never "chosen" for dodgeball, but somehow he had been picked by a dying alien to be a Green Lantern? What the heck was that anyway?! "What's Sector 2814? What's going on?" Abin coughed painfully, blood flecking his uniform.
"There is no time," he gasped in a rattling breath, "The ring will explain. N… now, put the ring on your finger and hold it towards the lantern." Peter nodded nervously and slid the ring onto his finger. He grabbed the handle of the lantern in his other hand and held the ring towards the lantern. "Repeat after me," Abin muttered as his eyelids grew heavy and began to close. "In brightest day,"
"In brightest day,"
"In blackest night,"
"In blackest night,"
"No evil shall escape my sight."
"No evil shall escape my sight."
"Let those who worship evil's might,"
"Let those who worship evil's might,"
"Beware my power, Green Lantern's Light."
"Beware my power, Green Lantern's Light!" There was a sudden flash of green light and Peter felt his body flood with energy as something wrapped around his entire body. Peter looked down at himself and was startled to discover that he was now wearing the same clothes Abin Sur had been wearing. "Whoa," he murmured, "So what happens now, Abin?" he asked as he looked back up. The now-naked Abin Sur gave no answer. His eyes were closed and his chest wasn't moving. "Abin?" Peter repeated softly.
At that same moment, at the New York University Science Lab
"As you can see," Dr. Curt Connors explained as stood in front of a display of genetically-modified spiders with each in a glass case and gestured to them with his one arm, "Our genetics department is working towards manipulating and combining the traits of different species of spiders in an attempt to create the strongest species." Flash Thompson rolled his eyes and picked at his ear. Big deal, so they were making really strong bugs. Or whatever spiders were.
"Doctor Connors," Gwen interjected as she held up a hand, "What do you have to say to the rumors that these experiments are an attempt to recreate or replace the Super Soldier program from World War 2?" Harry shifted a few steps away from Gwen just in case things got heated.
"Nothing more than unfounded internet speculation," Dr. Connors replied calmly, "These experiments are to test and expand upon the limits of genetic manipulation. That information can later be used to further the gene manipulation field towards advances in medicine."
"Hey," Kong said suddenly, "One of those is missing." He'd been kind of zoned out and was just staring at the spiders in their cubes. One of them was missing, though. Dr. Connors and his assistant Eddie Brock spun around to look at the spiders' displays.
"Huh," Eddie muttered, "That can't be good." Connors nodded and rubbed his chin.
"Well," he said, "It's a good thing the spiders are numbered. Can't have someone swatting one of our million-dollar experiments with a newspaper, can we?" Liz Allan looked up slowly, a tingling feeling on the back of her neck telling her that something was watching her. Her eyes went wide with fright and shrieked as she saw a spider about the size of a peach falling down towards her.
"Look out!" Flash shouted as he rushed towards Liz and pushed her out of the way. The spider landed on Flash's hand and he fell backwards, flailing in blind panic and terror, although he would never admit to either. Then he felt something sink into his skin and tried fruitlessly to bite down a scream of pain. Eddie scrambled forward and grabbed the spider in a pair of tongs, pulling hard to yank it off of Flash before tossing it back into its display.
"Eddie," Connors said as he took the display from Brock and put it down with the rest, "Go find a medic." Dr. Connors knelt down beside Flash and fished a vial out of the breast pocket of his coat. "Hold this in your free hand," Connor instructed Flash, handing him the vial, "And hold it to the wound." Flash nodded in dumb shock and did what he was told. Dr. Connors took the hand that had been bitten in his hand and squeezed the bitemarks and filled the vial a little less than halfway with blood from the wound.
"Hey," Liz demanded as she knelt beside Flash, "The heck do you think you're doing?!"
"Please remain calm," Connors replied, although his focus was firmly on Flash rather than Liz, "I just need to collect a sample of your blood. Then I can scan it later to see if it has any infections or abnormalities." He looked up to see Flash's face turn a deathly pale and remembered that this was why he had a doctorate but wasn't a doctor. He had terrible bedside manner. "You're going to be fine," he assured Flash calmly, "Nothing is going to happen."