So here is chapter two, if you left a review on chapter one, thanks for doing so.

Make sure to do the same with this one. Tell me what to work on and I will try to work it into my writing. This chapter was written in advance and will go up after I've published the first.

As it is, this chapter is twice the size of the last one, sitting pretty at 5k words. I just started writing and didn't stop for like, an hour or two.

Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-man or The Avengers. I weep in sorrow everyday. Okay, that was an lie. I don't weep, I cry like a MAN! ...shout out to those who understand the reference.


Chapter 2: The Last Parker


Peter stared at the fresh tombstone before him. His eyes constantly tracing and retracing the words written upon it. The stone with a smooth finish marked the final resting place of his last remaining relative.

The unassuming stone didn't do her justice. She deserved better than this. She deserved a grave worthy of a queen. A wall of dedication. A flaming sendoff, meant for kings.

May Parker shouldn't be in a graveyard filled with all the others gone from the world. She wasn't meant to be just another stone in a field filled with stones.

She should be on a hill, overlooking a lake. A giant tree giving her shade and most importantly, peace.

He'd run out of tears hours ago. Never leaving the site of her burial. The ceremony had been hard on him. With no support, he trudged through the sorrowful evening. The condolences of people he's never met, not helping in the slightest. Her funeral was small, not even twenty people in attendance.

All their meaningless apologies angered him. He didn't need any 'sorry's'. His only family was dead and he was completely alone.

Gwen had tried to help him, but she couldn't. She left with her family hours ago with the his promise of calling her.

When he left home that day, he never knew that it would be the last time he would see his aunt alive and well. While he was at school, she got caught in a shootout between the police and some gangsters. The police department wrote him an apology letter.

A damn letter!

He didn't even get the decency of a in person visit. Just a 'sorry we killed your family, CPS [1] will send someone to put you in an orphanage' letter.

Peter was so angry, and all the meaningless shit that had happened since, wasn't helping. The orphanage he was put into sucked. His stuff was almost stolen three times in the first 2 days.

He was forced to see a shrink that would pry into parts of his life that were private. Asking him questions that didn't even make sense half the damn time.

Do you want to hurt somebody? Have you ever self-harmed? Are you feeling suicidal?

The shrink had no tact at all. Peter wasn't going to tell her if he was having those thoughts. Why would he do that? Giving away personal thoughts like that. Talk about an invasion of privacy.

The last thing he needs is some schmuck ruining his fragile psyche.

Aunt May's funeral was paid for by the police department though. They did it out of some misguided redemption attempt. It wouldn't work, he would never forgive them. They killed his family, They made him an orphan, again..

He shivered as he felt it begin to rain. The chilly water falling from the cloudy sky. It was like the heavens were crying for him because he couldn't cry anymore.

His mind was numb. For once, every thought had gone silent and nothing remained. His eyes were glassy and dead. The light extinguished like a snuffed out flame. Not even the burning embers remained,

Peter's world was crashing around him. Everything he'd ever known, gone in a passing moment. Not even a warning shout to prepare him. He was left exposed and vulnerable. And people always took advantage of that. He'd been approached by two recruiters already about joining their organizations.

They'd give him a future they said. They would support him they said. Join us and we'll make sure you are never hurt again.

That last one seemed fishy to him. Like evil army, fishy.

He turned them all down though. His enhanced DNA would eventually cause a fuss that would in turn cause him strife.

Peter didn't need anymore strife. He's had enough of it already. The teen wished for a better life. One where he lived with his family. All together and living in peace. They'd be around to see him graduate. He'd go to college, find a girl, get married, have kids, and then grown old watching them,

And life would be perfect. Perfectly simple.

The sun was starting to set when he eventually left the graveyard. He made his way into the city, The subway ride was long and smelly, an old lady let her dog poop on the floor. His mind elsewhere, stuck in the past.

Remembering the better parts of his life as he went. His memories the only sanctuary from the pain. He could talk to aunt May all day in his head.

That was another thing, he seemed to have developed a voice in his head that sounded like her. It would pop up at random times, simply making observations or scolding him.

Stop slouching.

He snorted, but straightened up alittle. The teen took every chance at being close to normal again.

Better.

He rolled his eyes. Why did it have to nitpick the things that didn't matter?

It might seem like he was crazy, but if it meant he got to hear her voice again, then certify him already. It was a reprieve that he wasn't going to give up anytime soon.

The orphanage he was set up in, was in queens. Only a little bit away from his old apartment. Everything had been put in storage so that he could claim it at his majority. He had been looking into getting emancipated from the state. So he could live on his own and away from others. He had a new plan for the future since his last one was thrown out of order.

He would go to school till lunch, before going to work. After that he would go out as Spider-man if he had the time. This schedule was starting the coming monday. It would only be a matter of time before he was on his own. The future was bleak, but he would make the best of it in time.

Peter hadn't had time to grieve fully yet. He'd been putting it off as to not break down. It wasn't like he could anyway. The teenager wasn't comfortable enough around the house of strangers he was in.

Music came as a sanctuary to the teen. It was something that didn't need any thoughts and kept his brain occupied. Delaying the breakdown that was sure to come. People listen to sad music when they are sad, but that was stupid. It would only make them worse off. He didn't listen to any depressing sounds.

He blasted heavy metal and rock. The bursting drums beating loudly in his chest. The riff of a guitar solo, screeching through his ears. He could only feel the music ringing through his head, keeping everything else at bay. Peter didn't give the sorrow a chance to set in.

The lyrics of 'Kick Me' by Sleeping with Sirens, rang through his head. He lost himself in the music. Blocking out the world around was easy this way.

Kick me when i'm DOWN!

He looked up when he found himself at the steps of the orphanage. His daily life had become a pale imitation of its former self. Spider-man hadn't been seen in over a week and the rest of New York was getting worried. He was their own hero and they were worried.

Well, worried about the crime rates, but worried nonetheless. He snorted. They didn't care about him either, they had their own lives to deal with.

In the grand scale of things, Peter Parker didn't matter to anybody. Nobody cared if he died, or got injured. Nobody was left to care about him. He didn't get the luxury of sympathy.

He was the last Parker alive. No family left, not even a distant relative. The last of his line. All the hopes and dreams of his family now planted firmly on his shoulders, weighing him down. Everything they ever hoped for him, now much more important than before.

The thought made his shoulders sag lower. All the pain he felt making him feel heavy. The guilt of not being able to help them, causing his legs to drag. His eyes constantly shadowed in misery.

He ignored the others as he went into the bathroom. His backpack, carrying his Spider-man suit, felt as if it weighed more than he could lift. Locking the door, he turned of the faucet, and began to splash water on his face.

His hands gripped the sink tightly, knuckles turning white. It seemed like forever ago that he'd looked in the mirror. The bags under his eyes were all too visible. He was paler than normal and looked like exhaustion personified.

Some time during the walk, his necklace had slipped out of his shirt. Two new additions sat upon the chain.

They were Aunt May's and Uncle Ben's wedding rings. Aunt May had always worn them around her neck to keep her husband close. Now, they sat with him in hopes of them doing the same.

It was a foolish thought, yet he couldn't take them off. He would go into a panic if the weight wasn't on his chest. The only amount of comfort and stability he had left, and he didn't want to lose it.

Shaking off his thoughts, he went back to his bunk and laid down. His right leg lying of the the side of the bed, his foot on the ground. Peter stared up at the ceiling, not seeing anything around him.

Sulking will get you nowhere, honey.

"I know that," he muttered. Not even phased by the sudden intrusion.

Then why are you doing it?

"Because I can," he stated. "that's why."

You're talking to yourself again. People will think you're crazy.

"Let them think that then, It's not like I care at all." was his smart ass response.

It was true though, he didn't care what others think anymore. He stopped soon after she died. Peter didn't have enough energy or motivation to care about people's' opinions. He wishes that they would just leave him alone already. Let him get through this his own way.

The dreams he'd been having, didn't help him either. He was remembering parts of his past, that didn't seem real. He hoped that they were just nightmares, and not actual memories.

The differences behind the dream memories and the ones he had with the Parkers, were that the dream one's felt more real. More believable. Like those things actually happened to him.

He didn't want that though, because if they were true, his memories had been tampered with. Changed to suit someone's purpose and that was not a comforting thought. Who could have wanted to change him so drastically.

If they did change his memories, they failed somewhere along the line with some parts. He doesn't ever remember learning russian or japanese. Peter just knew them on an instinctual level, like he lived with them constantly being used around him and picked up in return.

His life was changing too drastically for him. Too many things all happening at once for his comfort. He didn't know if he could handle anymore change.


A week later, we find young Peter sitting on his bed, doing homework. He had a chemistry test coming up and it wouldn't do for him to fail. Science was something that could give him a better future. He was looking for an internship at different companies in hopes of getting better credentials for future jobs.

Peter had started taking a fast track for his schooling, Utilizing his full intellect to advance grades faster. He was hoping to finish up his high school work soon and start working on college courses.

Not that he was bragging. He was just smart enough for it to happen. The school officials had started throwing the word genius around when it came to him. Saying he had the chance of being put in with those of great intellect if he work hard enough. He could be as great as Bruce Banner or Tony Stark one day.

He had scoffed lightly when he heard that. He didn't think that would ever happen, those guys were way ahead of him.

Stop lying to yourself Peter, they are only telling the truth.

'...whatever." he muttered. Intent on ignoring everything besides his work. The other boy in his dorm gave him a funny look, but eventually went back to whatever it was he was doing.

Told you they'd think you're crazy. Maybe you can be a crazy scientist?

He rolled his eyes, now his mind was making fun of him. Great. Just what he needed, a sarcastic asshole voice inside his head. One who uses Aunt May's voice as a guies. Some of the things it says are dangerously explicit.

Like that time he heard it curse worse than a sailor after a car almost hit him. He didn't remember hearing half the words it said.

A knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the house mother standing in the doorway. A package in her hand.

She was a short woman. In her late 40s, she looked like a caring woman. She was plump and had long brown hair with streaks of grey. There was an aura around her that made her feel welcoming.

"Peter," she handed him the package. "this arrived for you a couple minutes ago."

He gave her a grateful look as he took it from her, "Thanks."

She smiled warmly at him before turning to the other boy in the room, giving him a stern look. "Why did I hear about you skipping school today mister?"

The boy didn't get a chance to answer as she dragged him out while giving him a lecture about punctuality and making sure he arrived early from now on.

Peter snorted softly, that woman could be scary sometimes. He'd only been here two weeks and he was sure she had a demon side kept hidden.

He looked down at the package in his hands and felt around it, trying to get an idea of what was inside. Only his name was on the front. It's black lettering sticking out on the mustard yellow paper. He open the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. Then dumped the rest of the contents out.

On his bed was now a coin the size of a dollar piece. A key to something, he didn't know what. The key was old and looked worn from use. The coin had a symbol on it. Of what, he couldn't make out. The groves had been worn down to a smooth surface.

And finally, there was a bus pass with the word Roosevelt written on it. He wondered about the stuff but ignored them in favor of the letter he held in his hand. Unfolding the paper, Peter began to read. It was only a small note, with a bunch of numbers at the bottom.

Peter,

I'm sure you have many questions, and I understand that. What I'm about to tell you is only a small part of an entire truth. That truth is about you, Peter. I can't tell you everything in a single letter but I can tell you this.

You're adopted Pete.

I know this may be a shock to you, but I'm sure that you have been having doubts. And those come in the form of your dreams. They feel like a part of you don't they?

Those dreams are a part of your past. A past that was filled with many things that would hurt you.

A past I tried to have you forget.

Admittedly, that wasn't my best idea. But, I did so in order to help you. You would wake in the middle of the night with nightmares on the good days, others were far worse.

That is all I can say in this letter, if you want to know more. Go to the coordinates. Bring the coin and the key. The bus pass with get you into the building. You will know what to do with them when you get there.

Trust your dreams Peter, they are they key to everything.

Loving you, dearly,

Mary Parker

Peter sat frozen as he went over the letter again and again. He couldn't believe this. Why did he get a letter from his mother who was supposed to be dead? Why now? What happened to him that she wanted to change?

The numbers at the bottom were indeed coordinates. They landed somewhere near the New York Hall of Science[2], which wasn't to far from where he was. Only a couple minutes of foot.

He checked the time and decided to go take a look. If his mother wanted him to do something, he was going to do it. He didn't know if she was still as dead as he thought, but he was going to find out. He gathered everything into his backpack.

Peter grabbed his pack, and put on his shoes. He took the step, two at a time. On the way down, he ran into the house mother. Only stopping long enough to bake some half ass excuse as to why he was leaving.

He used his webshooters to cross the city faster. He felt too anxious to sit for a long period of time. This was his mother - well, adopted mother - she was changing his life. It felt as if that was all that was happening to him lately.

When he arrived at the coordinates, he looked around for anything to tip him off. Everything seemed normal. Many buildings and nothing out of the ordinary. He walked around a building before coming upon a marking on the wall. It was the same marking as the one on the coin.

It was an eagle. A shield covering its body, protecting it. Oh great, Shield. This was going to be a bigger pain than he thought it would.

He walked up to the symbol and ran a hand over, jumping back when the wall moved to show a touch pad underneath it.

"Identification please." the voice was automated. A seemingly robotic tone in nature.

Well that's amusing.

"..shut up." he muttered before grabbing the bus pass and putting it on the pad. He only had to wait a few seconds before the pad lit up in entrance.

"Access Granted, welcome back Agent Parker." Okay, so another thing that his mother kept from him. He wondered if his father was an agent as well. Or maybe he was just a regular scientist, who got killed because of a serum he was working on.

Everything was becoming all too convienent. He made his way inside. It was dark, only a few lights in the hallway he was in. When he finally found a room, it was too dark to see anything. He stood, looking into black as he tried and failed to see anything.

A podium like object stood to the side. It only reached his waist and had a slot in the middle. Looking closely, he noticed it was the same size as the coin. Pulling said object out, he set it above the slot. He lowered it into the slot and waited.

He heard a whirring sound, before a click sounded and the coin shot back up into the air. Only his fast reflexes stopping him from losing an eye and catching the flying coin.

Then the building start up, its lights flickering on and machines starting up.

He looked around the room. It seemed to be a part of a lab. Halfway to the other end of the room the lab area was cut off by a white divider. Its contents hidden behind a door. As he walked closer to it, he noticed that a name was written on the wall. A plaque in acknowledgement.

Dr. Mary Parker, 004.

So this was his mother's office. He didn't know what the number where for, but he was sure he was about to find out. He twisted the knob and failed to hold back the curse when it didn't open.

It was locked.

But, he had a key! He should have checked that first.

Putting the key in and twisting it all the way to the left, the door clicked open. He shook his head ruefully. Now was not the time for such pointless mistakes. He shielded his eyes when the light turned on.

The room was messy, books filled the shelves all around the room. Cluttered papers littered the desk, all haphazardly stacked into piles. An old leather chair peeked out from behind the mess. The room smelled odd, like a mixture of cigar smoke and vinegar. But a hint of flowery perfume could be detected under it all.

Feels homey. Like coming home to a drunkard.

"...How would you even know that?" he questioned. When he didn't get a response he made his way over to the chair, pulling it out and sitting down.

What was he supposed to do know? The answers he was promised not showing themselves. With that in mind, he began to snoop.

Searching through drawers and the papers. His hand bumped the computer next to him and it flickered on. He ignored it and continued. The top drawer was filled with various office supplies. The second filled with blacked out papers. But, the third and final drawer held promise.

Files on a project she was working on filled the top of it. But, space seemed to be missing in compared to the other drawers. Tapping the bottom, he heard a hollow echo. He ran his hand over the bottom and felt something like a lever. Pulling it open a hidden compartment.

Not cliche at all. Was a popular place for hidden compartments at one time.

"Thanks for the useless history lesson." he grumbled.

You're welcome.

She sounded innocent, but he knew that wasn't true. "...Smart ass."

Inside the compartment was only three things. A pistol sat harmlessly next to a magazine filled with bullets. He didn't know the brand, he probably should though. Next to the gun was a shield badge. His mother displayed proudly in the picture. Her hair tied in professional bun and a serious look in her eyes.

He picked the badge up and ran his fingers over it. This was something of his mother's. Something that he never knew about her and was only just now finding out. Peter couldn't help but feel as proud as her in the picture. She looked like she finally accomplished a dream. He put the badge in his hoodie pocket, before looking at the last item inside.

It was a flash drive.

It was small and unassuming. Shaped to look like a bracelet charm. A string tied to it. He had to know what was on it. Putting it in the computer, he opened the files. A folder of documents was passed up for the video file on the drive. He loaded the video and clicked play.

His mother appeared, her eyes red and puffy. She smiled sadly at the camera and he felt himself smile back.

"Peter," her voice scratchy with overuse. "If you are watching this, then the worst has happened. Things beyond my control have started to take place and your father and I have been caught up in it. And because we are gone from your life, you have nobody to tell you about yourself."

He swallowed and prepared himself for the worst. Tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

"I must apologize to you Peter, I have kept things from you that you should know. " she smiled sadly. "In truth, you didn't come into our care until you were seven years old. You were brought in to Shield after an agent had found you during a raid on an experimental facility."

Oh great.

'Shut it!' he replied mentally. An experimental facility? What happened to him?

"The scientists running the operation, were altering your DNA. Enhancing it more than it already was. Your original DNA was enhanced with a serum that Shield had never seen before. I think you got it from your birth mother. But there was a problem with it, your enhanced properties were dormant and the people experimenting on you, were trying to activate it. We don't know what will happen when the DNA activates or if it even will. But don't be surprised to be 'super'."

This was so messed up. Was the spider bite just the key needed for his DNA activation? Why a spider? He had so many questions still.

Peter hoped she could answer them.

"Director Fury had heard about your case and was having doubts about parts of the agency. He decided to hide you away for safekeeping. And I happened to be the best choice. We had a connection you and I. You had instantly warmed up to me and I had felt all my reservations break with your beautiful smile. Your could light up a room with that thing."

She paused for a second, the sound of childish laughter ringing through the speakers. He distantly realized that was him. She smiled softly.

"There you are now, full of happiness. Too bad it came with a price. Most of your memories had been altered before you were cleared to leave. Your pain was too much on your young mind. Nightmares had plagued you nights on end. Barely allowing you any sleep. Blocking your memories was one of the hardest things i have ever had to do. But, worry not, they will come back in time. After you have matured and aged."

She looked of to the side, before shaking her head slowly. A tear leaking out of her eye.

"My time is up. For what it's worth, I am sorry Peter. I have compiled all the documents we have on you in the folder on this drive. Every dream you ever told us, every test we had done. Even some ideas of who your real mother may be. And finally, take my badge. If you ever need help, Nick will help you. He is the director of Shield and can give you what you need. I love you Pete."

The video cut off and he felt numb. His entire life was being turned upside down for the second time in a month. He took a breath before putting it in the back of his mind.

He clicked on the documents and pulled them up one by one. Reports about his health and wellbeing, assessments of his value in the future. Options on his recruitment and further documents all filled the screen.

The list of names was short, names he didn't recognize. People he didn't know and it made him sad. He didn't even know the name of his real mother, but he did know that he couldn't find green eyes on any of the list's occupants.

He didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved about that.

It's time to go Peter.

He checked the time and it was indeed time to leave. It was almost past nine and he didn't feel like dealing with an angry house mother. Packing up his stuff, he put the flashdrive in his pocket and pushed the chair in. Closing the door behind him after turning off the light, he made his way towards the exit.

Peter would come back when he got the chance. The building was abandoned so he didn't have to worry about somebody stumbling across the room. Maybe he would make it his headquarters. The Spider Lair.

He always wanted a lair. Who said only bad guys got to have them. At least it wasn't a dungeon or the sewers, but a space-station would have been cool as well.

Sorry, wrong universe.[3]

On his way out, he didn't see the blinking red light on the access pad.


A man say behind a desk, staring off into nothing.. He lips twisted into a small smile. His one eye softening as he watched footage of a young man in a empty lab. His normally covered eye, acting as a view platform.[4]

He smirked, "So you've finally started to remember, huh?"

He replaced his eyepatch as a knock on his door sounded.

"Enter."

A redhead woman entered, the grace of a panther in every step. She was his best agent. But, he was still the best spy. He knew of her continued search for her lost son.

The lost son that so happened to be the boy he was just watching. He was keeping it from her. To protect them both. Things in Shield were about to go haywire and he needed her focused.

"You are being put on a recovery mission with the good Captain. While you are there, I need some data from the database, is that understood."

"Yes sir." she replied.

"Good, debrief starts in twenty minutes, be there." he dismissed her. When the door closed, he switched back to the video footage in his eye. The boy's features so like his mothers, almost none of his fathers in him. The green of his eyes, reminding Fury that he was keeping such a big secret from an important agent.

He can only hope she doesn't kill him when she finds out. This was a new leather trenchcoat, fitted to his liking. Hidden pockets and all.

It would be a shame if it was ruined.


[1] Child Protective Services.

[2] For those who don't know, it is an actual place. Look it up.

[3] Justice League HQ, it's literally a space-station. How cool is that?

[4] In multiple universes, Nick Fury's eye acted as an advantage in the field. Who's to say it cannot be used for video watching purposes and linked to his brain? Or something of the sort...

Peter has developed a voice inside his head. It's actually very common with people who have been through constant grief and trauma. The voice is actually going to play a big part in his development. During Andrew Garfield's second movie as Spider-man, an hallucination of a dead man was used. This will be similar.