"Peter… Peter!"

Peter's eyes snapped open and his head darted around. It sounded like someone had called his name from inside the room, but there was no one there.

Speaking of weird dreams, he thought about everything he had seen the day before. Was he still there? Or had going to bed worked? He was hesitant to move, curious to find out but also scared he was still in that weird other universe.

Eventually, he moved to switch on the light, and his heart sunk as his question was answered.

He reached out to his bedside table and pulled on his glasses, scowling as the world sharpened around him.

Because he had gone to bed so early the day before, he had woken up early - the sun hadn't even risen yet. He was tempted to go back to sleep, but he didn't want to have any more weird dreams. Instead, he dressed slowly, going over the situation in his head.

So, going to sleep hadn't worked. Peter couldn't say he was surprised. Things were never that easy for him. But there must be some way to get back.

He thought about his parents, probably still sleeping in the room down the hall. Their presence had shaken him, but now for a moment he considered the opportunity he had. He could actually get to know his parents. All he had of them were vague memories that were only getting hazier as he got older.

Then again, Uncle Ben hadn't been the same person that he knew. The person that Peter had seen yesterday was a stranger. His chest twisted again as he thought of it - to see that face, but with the usual affection missing from his eyes. His parents could be the same way - different from what they should be.

Although this is what they should be. Alive, and taking care of Peter.

Peter shook his head and pushed a comb through his hair before stepping out of his room. To his surprise, a light was on in the living room.

As he walked in, his mother looked up at him. "Oh, wow, you're up early," she said. She considered him for a moment, then said carefully, "Are you feeling better this morning?"

Peter had almost forgotten that he'd claimed to be sick the night before. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about yesterday."

A small smile crossed her face. "It's okay. Although you did miss out on lasagna night." She paused, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why don't you sit down for a second?"

Peter felt anxiety rising in his chest, but did as she asked, taking the place next to her on the couch.

His mom looked him in the eye, and for a moment he was struck with how beautiful she was. His mom was right there. Alive. He almost missed what she was saying: "You know, your aunt May called me last night."

Oh. He cringed.

"She told me you seemed really upset, and that you ran out without explaining what was going on."

"Yeah… about that…" he trailed off, twisting his hands in his lap. How was he supposed to explain that?

His mom wasn't looking at him in anger, though. She only seemed confused, and worried. "Did something happen?" she asked. She put a hand on his knee. "Did something go wrong with Liz?"

Peter's eyes widened, and he shook his head. He had almost forgotten about that - he was dating Liz! "No! Nothing like that," he said quickly.

She frowned. "Then what? I mean, you don't usually just drop by your aunt and uncle's place. Or go to bed at five PM. Something must have happened."

He simply looked at her, at a loss for how to explain anything.

"You know you can tell me anything, Peter," she said. Her expression was sad, but there was only care and love in her eyes.

"I - I know," he replied. Somehow, it did feel that way. But there was no way he could tell her this.

His mother sighed. "C'mere," she said finally, opening her arms.

Peter hesitated, but after a moment moved forwards. He folded into her hug easily, and started holding on tight. It felt so natural, somehow. Like he had hugged this person his whole life. He found himself holding back tears.

When she pulled back, she said, "It's okay. Whatever's happening - and you can explain when you're ready - it'll end up okay. Alright, Peter?"

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

She smiled. "Okay, good. Now, do you want some breakfast?" She stood, and moved towards the kitchen. "I could make pancakes, if you want. Or you could have leftover lasagna," she added with a smirk.

Peter smiled back. "Pancakes sounds good," he replied.

After the sun had fully risen and his stomach was full of pancakes, Peter was on his way to school again. A soft wind was blowing past his ears as he walked towards the subway stop.

The morning spent with his mom had been, admittedly, really nice. They had talked easily, she bringing up a few memories from when he was little. A few Peter had even recalled himself, after a moment. Mary Parker was kind and funny, and obviously a caring mother. It left Peter feeling conflicted.

The version of Peter Parker that lived here obviously had a nice life, but it was just so different from the one that he knew - especially when it came to May and Ben.

He considered his friends. The Ned and Michelle of this reality didn't know him, and honestly it felt like they didn't like him. Meanwhile, Flash was apparently his best friend and he was dating Liz Allan (That part wasn't so bad).

Then there was his powers. Here, he wasn't Spider-Man. He wondered for a moment if someone else was Spider-Man here. That would certainly be interesting.

He didn't have time to think much further about it, though, because suddenly he heard someone cry out.

"Help!" It was a woman, and it sounded like it was coming from around the corner, down the alley in front of him. "I need help!"

Peter rushed forwards, his instincts taking him to the entrance of the alley. In the shadows, he saw a blonde woman being shoved against the brick, a knife pointed towards her by a man in a dark hoodie.

He froze. He desperately wanted to help, but could he? He didn't have powers here! What could he possibly do?

Then the woman screamed again, and his feet made the decision for him.

He ran forwards, yelling as he went, "Hey! Get away from her!"

The man in the hoodie turned sharply towards him, and all that mattered was that his knife came away from the woman's throat.

But then Peter was faced with the same knife.

"Move away, kid," the man growled. "I'm warning you."

He shot his foot forwards to knock the man off his feet, but he didn't move as fast as he was used to, and the guy simply moved backwards and away from him. Behind him, the woman ran off down the alleyway, clutching her bag to her chest.

The man looked after her and cursed. "Jesus," he said. "Why'd you have to do that?"

Peter shot him a look. "Seriously? You're asking me that?"

Then the mugger's hand shot forwards, and Peter moved his hand up desperately to block the knife.

Wrong move. He felt the sting as his forearm was slashed open, and while he was distracted by the pain, the guy bashed his head into the brick. His head spun, and he heard a snap as his backpack was cut off his shoulder. He fell onto the ground, his vision tilting.

The man stalked off, biting out as he went, "Thanks a lot, kid."

Once Peter's head stopped ringing, and his vision cleared, the man was gone - and so was his stuff.

He groaned in frustration. He was so useless like this! Sure, the woman had gotten away - but so had her attacker! And he'd taken everything of Peter's with him - including his phone, he realized with a curse.

Peter sat there in the alley for a moment, his head in his hands. How embarrassing. Wasn't he a superhero? Shouldn't he know how to fight - even without his powers? His limbs had felt like they were weighed down as he had tried to fight back.

That clinched it - he had to figure out what the hell was going on around here so that he could get back. And he wasn't going to learn anything new at school. He figured it wouldn't matter anyway - not when he got back to his reality.

Peter sighed he pushed himself to his feet, brushing the dirt and grime off of him as best he could. His arm was bleeding pretty heavily, he realized. Thankfully, his head didn't seem to be bleeding anywhere, but it was hard to tell since he couldn't see. He decided to stop in at the pharmacy down the street for supplies, and took off his jacket to cover up his bloody arm.

He had only taken a few steps inside the shop when he realized that all of the money he had was in his backpack - he didn't have anything. There was no way that he could pay!

Peter considered stealing for a moment, but the thought passed quickly. There was no way he could hurt someone the same way he had just been. Stealing was wrong, and he couldn't let himself stoop to that level.

Instead, he left the shop and entered a McDonald's that was down the street. He locked himself in the bathroom and cleaned himself up as best he could, making sure to wipe up the blood out of the sink when he was done. His arm looked a little bulky under his jacket from the paper towels he had wrapped around it, but at least he wasn't dripping blood anymore.

"Okay, think, Peter," he muttered as he walked out again onto the street. "What happened two days ago?"

If he could remember the day before he woke up in this reality, surely he could remember what had happened to send him here, and figure out a way to reverse it!

He had woken up and gone to school, just like any normal day - but it had been raining and storming, he recalled. Which there didn't seem to have been any sign of yesterday. School had been normal, and decathlon practice was normal too…

For some reason his memories became hazier after that. He knew that he had gone out as Spider-Man after school, but he couldn't remember what exactly he had been doing. There had been a fight, he was sure of it. He could feel the bruises from being hit. He also remembered being uncomfortable in the rain - and Mr. Stark had called him.

Mr. Stark! That was it!

Peter couldn't believe that he hadn't thought about this earlier. Surely, Mr. Stark could help him! He was the smartest guy in the world. If anyone could figure out what was going on, it was him.

"Alright, Avengers Tower it is," Peter said to himself, and turned off in the right direction, his shoulders set and his mind determined.

Of course, he forgot just how long of a walk it was from Queens to the Tower. Without his subway card, or any money, he couldn't use that or the busses. Instead, he moved his feet as quickly as he could, going in generally the right direction - after all, he just had to head in the direction of Manhattan. And surely he could find it at that point - he had been there quite a few times, and it was an easy building to spot.

Thankfully his stomach full of pancakes was fuel enough to keep him moving, although his head still ached from its contact with the brick wall of the alley. He eventually noticed also that he had bled through the "bandages" on his arm, and he ducked into another bathroom to replace them.

A few hours later, and he figured he was about halfway there. He sat down on a bench to take a break. This whole time he had been trying to remember what had happened, and had realized there was a definite block where he couldn't remember anything else. Something had happened during that time - something that sent him out of his reality and into this one. He groaned, trying to think and remember, but it was no use.

Peter thought about school. Hopefully they wouldn't think too much of him skipping class. He had skipped quite a few classes to deal with Spider-Man problems. Although, he wasn't Spider-Man in this reality. So who knows what they would think. He hoped they wouldn't call his parents. Now that he thought about it, it was probably good that he didn't have his phone with him. That would only be something his parents could track him with.

It was still tripping with his head - the thought that his parents were alive. But he knew that this wasn't right. He needed to get back to where he belonged.

"Wait," he whispered to himself, as a thought struck him. What if the other Peter was in his body right now? What if he was careless and people found out about his powers? Anxiety rose in him once again as he considered this, and he pushed himself to his feet to get moving again.

It was a little past noon when he crossed the Queensboro Bridge. A cool wind whipped across the East River and through his hair, and he pulled his jacket a little tighter around himself. But he was almost there - finally. It was probably just another mile or so.

There were more people walking along the sidewalks on this side of the river, and he wondered what else was different about this reality. Did everyone have such dramatic changes to their life as he did?

His heart sunk as he realized that Tony Stark might not even be Iron Man in this reality, but he pushed that thought aside quickly. Peter had been bitten by that spider by chance - but Tony had made himself Iron Man. Surely he still would be here.

Finally, Peter arrived at the front steps of the Avengers Tower. He was relieved to see that everything looked the same, and he headed for the doors confidently.

He didn't make it five steps before he was stopped by security.

"Excuse me," one guard said. Peter recognized him, but he couldn't place his name. "You can't be in here."

Peter stopped, raising his hands up calmly. "I'm just here to see Mr. Stark."

The guard rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you and everyone else, kid. Move back outside, please."

"Please," Peter said, starting to feel a little desperate. He had come all this way! Surely he wasn't going to be turned away at the door! "I need his help. I - I know him! I can prove it!"

The man frowned now. "Seriously. Last warning. Leave now or I'll have to make you leave."

Peter glanced around the room, hoping that somehow he would be let in. He scowled in frustration as he realized that was never going to happen. "Okay, okay," he said, backing away. "I'm sorry. Just -" he cut himself off and shook his head. "Sorry," he said again, and left the building the same way he came in.

As he walked back down the steps he had gone up only a minute before, he felt his throat swell up, and he groaned in frustration. He made it to the side of the building before he sat down in a heap, his back pressed up against the wall and his hands pressed into his eyes.

"God damnit!" he cursed. Why hadn't he thought of this? No shit he wasn't going to be let in. He was nobody here. He wasn't Spider-Man, and so Mr. Stark had never laid eyes on him. This version of Peter had surely never even dreamed of knowing him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, stewing in his frustration, trying desperately to think up ways to trick his way around the guards. But there was no way. He would have to do this on his own.

The walk back to his apartment felt twice as long as the walk there. Peter's thoughts went in circles as he tried to remember what had happened to him, tried to think of ways out of this, tried to figure out just what the heck was happening. By the time he reached his door, the sun was low in the sky, and he was exhausted, physically and mentally.

He certainly wasn't prepared for his parents' reaction when he walked in the door.

An explosion of sound hit his ears, and hands were suddenly all over him.

"Peter!" his mother said, relief clear in her voice. "Oh, my god. We were so worried about you!"

"Are you okay?" his father asked, brows drawn together in concern.

Peter's eyes were wide. "I - I, yeah. I'm okay."

His mom pushed back the hair from his eyes. "We were so worried - we got a call from the school saying you never showed up!"

His dad crossed his arms, and took a step back. "So," he said slowly, "Where have you been all day, young man, if not school?"

Peter was yet again at a loss to explain himself. All he could say was, "I'm sorry."

"You should be!" his mom said, anger lacing into her voice as it overtook her worry. "You don't do this sort of thing - what were you thinking, just skipping school like that! For all we knew, you could've been dead!"

"Peter, where were you?" his father asked again, voice stern.

Peter shook his head, trying to come up with something - anything that might sound plausible. "I just… I couldn't go today," he said finally.

Mary frowned and took a step back, considering him. "Does this have something to do with what happened yesterday?"

"Yeah, you know - your surprise visit to see my brother needs some explanation as well."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Peter said again. "I didn't mean to worry you - I wasn't thinking -"

"No, shit, you weren't thinking -"

"Richard, calm down."

"And why should I? Our son has been playing hooky all day!"

Peter suddenly felt the wave of his emotions overwhelm him, and tears rose unbidden to his cheeks. He tried desperately to force them back and wipe them away, but his parents had already spotted them.

"Oh, Peter," his father said. "Don't - I didn't mean to yell. But you scared us, bud. You can't do things like this, you know better."

He nodded mutely. That wasn't the reason he was crying by any means, but he supposed it didn't matter. Whatever got them to leave him alone. "I'm sorry," Peter said eventually. "I just… I'm sorry."

Mary and Richard looked at each other, and then back at him. "It's okay," his mom said. "We're relieved you're alright. We don't have to talk about this tonight. Let's just have dinner and let things calm down."

"You should know there will be consequences, though, Peter."

"I - I understand," he managed. He was getting chastised by his parents. This felt so surreal.

His mom put a hand on his shoulder and led him forwards. "Dinner's just about ready," she said. "Let's eat, and then you can get to bed, okay? We'll talk about this tomorrow."

He nodded, relief flooding through him. That would give him plenty of time to figure out how he was going to explain this.

His father still looked frustrated, but he nodded and went along with Mary's suggestion. "Can you help me set the table, Peter?" he said.

Peter sighed and followed him into the kitchen.

Later, as Peter twisted this way and that, trying to get to sleep, he considered his explanation for what had happened.

Instead, what his mind provided him with was a plan. He was going to need to show up at school tomorrow.

And somehow get Ned on his side.

He faded into sleep, almost stirring awake when he thought he heard his name. But then his dreams swept him away.

A/N: I'm glad some of you are enjoying this weird story. I hope this chapter works - I know nothing much happens. There should be one more chapter to wrap things up.