Mark Wilson Parker is an ordinary teenage boy, sitting on the top of his three-story home, overlooks the suburbs. His grey Converse feet dangles over the edge without the fear of falling. Green and white athletic hoodie covers his entire upper body, white hood barely hiding his dirty blonde hair. He was peeling an orange, placing the peels on his faded blue jeans.

Once the entire orange was peeled, he takes a slice and places it on the roof. "Here ya go Charlotte."

There was movement underneath Mark's jacket, a lump making its way out. One leg after another a large spider crawls from under his jacket and goes for the orange slice. The colors it bore were of brown and purple markings fading out into red stripes with the tips of her legs being pure black. The colors were odd for her species, an Aphonopelma seemanni -Tarantula, and the markings made her even more mysterious. Knowing only to a handful, that this spider was a mutant. One of a kind, as it was naturally born with its parents coming from manufactured labs. The very one that gave Mark his powers.

Mark smiles. "Fatty."

Charlotte hisses, not liking the comment.

"It's true. You're bigger than your species." He eats a slice of orange shrugging with a smile.

Charlotte chitters, sounding much like a mix between a chirping bird and squeaking rodent. The sounds she made wasn't too loud, but settle like a hushed whisper.

"You got a point. Dad did say to stop feeding you under the table." He eats another slice. "It's back on the cricket and lizard diet for you."

Charlotte chitters again, sounding quite angry and disagreeable.

"Fine. But only because you drive a hard bargain." He separates another slice and holds it in front of Charlotte. She walks over and eats from his hand, large fangs and tiny razor teeth careful enough to only pierce the fruit. "I swear, I just spoil you."

"Heya M&Ms!"

Mark looks down with his bright blue eyes, widen with surprise. "Grandpa!"

None other than 'grandpa' Anthony Edward 'Tony' Stark stands in the drive way below him, dressed in his civilian clothes. He is wearing pair of black shades, worn black leather jacket that probably old as he is, a meme shirt with a troll face of the words 'I can't help it if you can't challenge it' below, dark blue faded jeans with grease stains from long hours in the workshop, black chucks, and a regular puke green baseball cap to help hide his identity. There was glow in his chest area, meaning he was double shirting with a thermo underneath the meme shirt. "Whatcha doin' up there?"

"Eating oranges. Where's gramps?" Mark looks around, checking the street for an old 1940's motorcycle.

"Inside. You're not going to give grandpa a hug?" Tony opens his arms.

Mark laughs. "C'mon Charlotte." He lifts the bottom of his jacket. Charlotte sees the invitation and crawls back underneath the jacket, attaching to his shirt. Once she settled, Mark grabs all the orange pieces and puts them in his pocket. "Hang on." Mark jumps down from the roof three stories up and lands gracefully on all fours on the front lawn. He runs to Tony, leaping into his arms for the biggest hug.

Tony hugs him back, squeezing with all his might. "When did you get so big?"

"When you decided to stop harassing the old man." He loosens away from the hug, walking in pace with his grandpa to the front door.

"Oh~ Wade could take a few jabs." They both separate from the hug, Tony throws his arm over his grandson's shoulder smiling. "So, what do you think about my new look?" He combs his fingers through his hair, quite proud of himself.

Mark tilts his head from side to side, silently admiring Extremis at work on his grandpa's skin. Tony's hair was pure black from root to tip, the light reflexes a shade of blue and gelled back in waves. His goatee and beard completely gone, giving Tony Stark a very young look. It makes Mark scrunch up his face, "I like the old man look better."

"Oh, not you too." Tony groans opening the front door, letting his grandson walk in first.

Mark chuckles. "What -gramps doesn't like it?"

"He despises it. Has me changing my look right before bed." He releases Mark closing the front door. "It scares the ever living hell out of Pepper."

Mark shrugs. "You are in your hundreds."

"Ha-larious kid. I'm seventy nine." He shoves his grandson forward, letting him lead.

"Wow, what does that make gramps?" They walk through the main hall, passing the stair well to the right and the first set of rooms. The dining room to the left and visitor's den to the left, both open walk-ins without doors or walls separating them from the main hall.

"Mmm- " He shrugs, "Somewhere in his fifties. Add a one in front of it and that's how long he existed."

"Does that make you the cougar, or gramps?"

"More like a saber tooth tiger." They pass the next set of rooms. The kitchen on the left connecting to the dining room and the visitor's bathroom on the right connecting to both the visitor's den and main hall. Tony frowns at what he sees, looking through each room. "You know -your uncle Clint asked the same thing. Came to a vote that I was the cougar and Steve was the innocent teenager that didn't know any better. You guys need a new decorator." He takes off his baseball cap and shades to get a better look. "The colors makes me want to vomit."

Both males stop in the hall as a tall stoic seventeen year old female walking across the main hall, coming from the living room and heading into the kitchen. "Hey grandpa." Her face was buried deep in her phone, purple Mohawk covering one side of her face as sock feet padded softly across wooden floor. Tony couldn't help but flinch at what she wore. Leopard printed leggings conceals her lean legs, a lime green tank top stretched out at the sides, showing off her black tube top and pink bra straps, and the sock on her feet were mismatched; the left was tall with pink and red polka dots as the right was ankle cut with rainbow striped patterns.

"Hey there Mayday." Tony greets.

"Don't call me that."

"Call you however I like. No hugs?" He holds out his arms for open invitation. She immediately turns to show her face, looking up once to immediately go back to her phone. The black eyeliner, purple fading blue lipstick, and right nose ring cause Tony to lift an eyebrow.

She quickly side hugs him, heading back to the kitchen. "B-T-W dad's not here."

"Oh, goodie." Tony and Mark follow May into the kitchen.

Mark's 'dad', Peter Benjamin Stark Parker, was in front of the stove tending to lunch, a spatula in one hand stirring as he looks over his shoulder with bit worry. 'Gramps' Steven Grant 'Steve' Rogers-Stark was standing just behind Peter, holding little baby Gwendolyn Wilson Stark 'Gwen' Parker, bouncing her in his arms. Peter had always a protective streak, especially when it came to his own children. And by the way he kept looking over his shoulder, it seems he doesn't trust his step-father as much.

Both fathers were wearing white-t's and jeans. Peter's jeans were brown capris, age old stains just about everywhere you looked, whether they be from food or Wade's blood Peter will never answer. He had nothing on his feet, comfortable with walking around the house bare footed. An identical pair of deep tissue scars travels around both legs just above the ankles, a visible tale from his vigilante days. Steve on the other hand was leaning against the side counter in rugged blue jeans, black sweat jacket, and tennis shoes told Steve just had his morning run before he showed up. Both hands were tucked underneath Gwen's pink blanket, baby hands trying to reach out to touch his face.

Tony couldn't help but smile at how careful the great Steve Rogers was tending to the infant. His brows furrowed, muscles tense, large shoulders huddled together. It seems he never got used to handling children, even if he was there when Peter was just a boy. May had made her way to the bar, sitting in one of the tall back rest spring stools on her phone. Mark goes to sit next to May as Tony went over to Peter. "Hey Peter Pan."

"Hey dad." Peter leans over to hug his father as Tony give him a kiss on the head, receiving an 'gross' from Mark.

They both lean slightly away. Tony tucks his shades in the rim of his shirt, "What ya cookin'?" Tony leans over to get a whiff.

"Spaghetti and meat balls." Peter sets the spaghetti spoon off to the side and moves through the cupboards. He points to Tony, "Don't touch the stove." He looks through the bottom cupboards.

Tony scoffs, "I'm not going to touch the stove."

"Steve can make sure dad doesn't touch the stove. I don't need sentient appliances in my house."

"I'm not going to- "

"Tony," Steve smirks, "Come say 'hi' to Gwen." Tony gives in and walks over to his husband, taking little Gwen into his arms. He bounces her in his arms cooing at the little bundle of joy with much experience and confidence.

Peter sighs, giving up the search. "You guys seen the strainer anywhere?" He turns around looking at his children and parents.

"Dad used it to create some weird witch hunting tool." May pops her gum, still texting away at her phone. "Said he'll come back with a new one. Two if you're still upset about it."

Peter rolls his eyes. "Damn it Wade. I guess I'll just have to improvise." He goes for the cheese grater and grabs the pot, heading towards the sink. He tilts the pot over the sink, using the cheese grater to hold back the noodles.

Mark lifts his jacket up letting Charlotte out onto the counter. She chitters happily. Mark translates, "She said, 'Can I have some?'"

Peter smirks, quickly getting a glance at Charlotte. "Yes, you get to have some too."

Curious, Tony passes Gwen back to Steve as stared at the mutant Tarantula. He shakes his arms, trying to get a feeling back. "How do you do that? Speak spider." He quickly faces Peter, eyes still on the large mutant spider on the counter.

"Well," Peter puts the pot back on the stove and tosses the cheese grater in the sink, "If you get bitten by a radio active spider, I'll let you know." Peter had the audacity to smile at his father.

Tony frowns as he turns back to Charlotte. He leans over the counter as he crosses his arms as he looks at Charlotte in the eyes. The mutant spider staring back. "Charlotte."

Charlotte chitters. Mark translates, "She said, 'Tony'."

"Still upset about the 'boyfriend' thing?"

Charlottle chitters, Mark, "She said, 'still angry about the robots'?"

Tony opens his mouth and closes it, a bit at a lost to how to answer. "No, I'm no longer angry that you single handily melted my new creations with acidic mutant spider venom in revenge after I personally roasted your boyfriend into spider marshmallow not knowing of what his intentions may be." The others knew Tony was still upset about it, causing them to snicker. "Let bygones be bygones?"

Charlotte remains quiet for a while. She chitters, "She said 'I'm not angry at all, I just wanted to laugh at you'." She chitters again, Mark, "'But I'll let bygones be bygones'."

Tony smirked as he leaned closer to the arachnid, "One day I'll find out how you communicate, then we will see who will have the upper hand."

May lowers her phone a bit, "And see you and Charlotte arguing at each other?" She leans more to the right side of the chair, spinning slight to face the family. "That will be the day."

Tony looks to his granddaughter. "May, can you speak spider-ese?"

May pauses in her texting, thinks about it, then goes back to her phone. "I tend to ignore it."

"Hm -sass. Teenager." He looks to Mark. "You got tested yet?"

Tested, Mark thought, might as well say 'Are you or are you not a mutant/superhuman?'. He sighs, "Yeah." He fidgets, tugging on the sleeve's edges and stretching the elastic out. "I have the X-gene, but they don't know if it activated or not." He presses his lips in a thin line, uncomfortable. "I'm 'mutant' as far as they consider." He shrugs unsure on how he should feel.

"You keeping up with your studies?" He smiles, a bit proud.

"Yeah."

"How 'bout you Mayday?"

"Don't call me that. Mutant. Quitting A-academy." She pops her gum. "Going to public school."

Tested. The word used to be a coded for some sort of STD, but now it was code for 'abnormal'. No one says the word nor ask the question out in public, but only in privacy with love ones and friends. The understanding of the word came to being during Peter's college days.

After the Superhuman Registration Act had passed, the first superhuman 'Civil War' spread havoc world wide. In order to control the damage and reverse the effects, both Steve Rogers and Tony Stark married, forcing the Supreme Court to deemed the Act unconstitutional and should be either be rectified immediately or gone altogether. The peace didn't last long as Congress, the 'bastards' that they were, didn't want to let it go. Instead of changing for the better, they gotten rid of half and forced recognition of both superhuman and mutant among the world by giving out secret identities. With heroes forced into hiding and villains running free, many innocents were targeted. Heroes, whose secret identities were revealed, gave out secrets covered up by government officials, agencies, and crime organizations. Mutants retaliated against human forces, peaceful protests quickly turning into deadly riots. Just as the second superhuman 'Civil War' was announced, so too was America' second Civil War. Everything had spiraled out of control, affecting the nation as a whole and with the government being the main target.

It wasn't until the Avengers had completely separated from S.H.E.I.L.D that Congress had finally given in. The Superhuman Registration Act was no longer, and in its place the Gene Prediction Act or as some would call the 'Abnormal' Act. The Act declared every teen and older are to take blood testing to see if a person was carrying the X-gene. If there was a single genetic mutation that could identify the person to be 'mutant', they are immediately notified and permanently identified through social security. This, along with 'reinterpretation' of the Constitution, mutants can be identified and safe at the same time. Both human and mutant are seen as same, constitutionally. HOWEVER, there was always a loop hole.

Anyone who went against the Act were immediately subjected and declared traitors and/or terrorists. Blood testing be damned.

Those who have powers but don't carry the X-gene are seen as 'abnormal'. 'Abnormals' have an ultimatum, to be either human or 'mutant'. To choose human, means they must never use their powers, hero or not. To be 'mutant' just means to use and act responsibly when in public. Then came the issue with dealing with the heroes; with villains running unchecked in the world, the "Super-Hero Registration" was born. With fear still in the hearts of many, government officials had started an organization to keep vigilantes safe and villains behind bars without confusing the two sides. The organization then grew into combined efforts of both S.H.I.E.L.D. and Avengers, "Avengers Academy" nicknamed "A-Academy" by heroes in training. The Avengers would train young and new members as S.H.I.E.L.D. would supervise and place tests. Those who passed became licensed heroes, those who didn't had to continue their 'education' or live normal lives. Not known to most, the good guys who fought during both Civil Wars were pardon of all crimes by the United Nations and instantly earned their Hero License the moment they re-picked up their cowl. The new members, going into generations, behind those heroes had to start from scratch.

Though the story/history had caught many people's attention, nothing blew up the tabloids like Spider-man did. The youngest Avenger in history and confirmed to be Tony Stark's biological son. At the age of fifteen, he had became a super hero, survived both 'Civil Wars' and still retain his secret identity. The only ones who knew of his true identity were loved ones, fellow Spider-men, and... Doctor Otto Octavius.

Which is why Mark had more experience than most new members. He is a 'hero in training', but after taking the tests -he was quite confident of passing. His older siblings had already passed the exams, but nowhere younger or the same age as their father. Mark, however, at the age off fourteen, is planning to break that record.

Steve looks around, cradling a sleeping Gwen. "Where's Benji?"

Peter pulls out the meatballs from the stove, setting them on the counter. "Mark go get your brother."

"'Kay! C'mon Charlotte." He opens his jacket again for her to hitch a ride. They both make their way up to the second floor, taking two steps at a time. Taking the right of the long hall, Mark passes two sets of doors and stops just before the third on the right. The door had various spiders stickers and two signs; one saying 'recording in session' with a video game controller, and the second stating 'If you don't pretend to use the force to open automatic doors, Then you are wasting your time on the earth' with the picture of Darth Vader's head at the bottom.

Mark knocks on the door, waiting patiently for an answer.

His enhanced hearing picked up shuffling and a rushed 'Be right back'. Quick steps got to the door and the door opens slightly to show off a brown eyed and brown haired bed-head sixteen year old, Mark's older brother Benjamin 'Benji' Richard Parker. He was in a white shirt with a pink mustache logo that was twice his actual size, with it black shorts. A black and white head set was lowered around his neck. He has dark bags beneath his eyes and a bit pale in the face, from being both exhausted and overworked. "What is it, I'm sciencing." He messes his hair up more, then proceed to rap his fingers against the door frame. If anyone inherited the 'Stark gene', it was Benji. The teen overworks just like their grandpa.

There was an odd smell coming from Benji's room. His senses picking up on something, "Gramps and Grandpa's here." Mark sniffs, identifying the smell. Oh my God, He thought, turning to avoid his brother's eyes and instead keeping his eyes anywhere else but his brother. "Dad wants you to come down."

Benji sighs, "I haven't slept in two days."

Mark shrugs.

Benji stares at Mark, watching his movements and reactions. He sniffs, "You're anxious."

Mark rolls his eyes and looks up to his brother. "Maybe because you smell like sex."

Ben leans out to ruffle his hair, Mark quickly swatting it away with disgust. "Yeah-Yeah, I'll be down in a minute." He playfully punches Mark in the chest before he goes to close the door, "Get out of here squirt. And don't tell dad!" The door closes.

Mark sucks his teeth and bangs on the door. "You owe me!"

"Whatever!" Benji shouts.

Mark walks away. He jogs down the stairs and slows as the front door opens. He already knew who was at the door, just by seeing the amount of red color out the side windows next to the front door. Keys are heard jingling, but Mark doesn't move to open the front door.

The door first opens to "the Merc with a Mouth" Deadpool, also legitimately known as Wade 'old man' Wilson, wearing his famous red and black uniform. Or what's left of it. His costume was torn to shreds and burnt around certain edges, pieces of Kevlar armor riddled with bullet holes, and covered from head to toe most likely in someone else's in blood. Both weapon harness and belt were in his hands. The twin katanas, given by the hilt design were "Banana and Strawberry", broken but still treated with care. After Deadpool came in, 'aunt' Emily Preston in full S.H.I.E.L.D. regulated uniform, looking quite pissed, walks in with heavy S.H.I.E.L.D. equipment draped over her shoulders. Finally, twenty three year old Eleanor 'Ellie' Preston, Mark's half sister, walks in setting down even more S.H.I.E.L.D. equipment just next to the coat rack. She was completely untouched, clean, and looking quite tired.

Mark gets a little nervous, quite uncomfortable in the state his old man was in. "H-Hey old man. Welcome home."

Wade stops and looks to his son. He takes off his mask smiling, the bottom left side of his face was still regenerating. The muscles was still stretching over bone as scarred flesh quickly follows after. "Heya, M&Ms." He was looking a bit tired. "Petey still around?" Mark could tell his father was dying for a hug, maybe even two. His face completely healed.

"In the kitchen." He indicates with his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, careful not to squish Charlotte. "Gramps and Grandpa are here."

Wade pouts, his shoulders slouching a bit. "And no one told me?!"

Mark frowns knowing well his old man didn't give any shit about his fathers-in-law, just that his husband didn't tell him before any of his kids did. "I think that was the point. Dad wasn't even ready to have them over." Mark looks over his father's shoulder, "Hey Mrs. Preston -Hey, Ellie!"

Emily smiles at Mark, "Hey to you too Mark."

Ellie just groans. Her tired way of saying 'hello'.

"Need any help old man?" Mark's voice gives off a bit of concern.

It didn't take a genius to tell Wade was tired from constant regeneration. His steps were slacking, and lifting the harness had taken more effort to lift than how he usually handles it. "Sure thing kiddo." Wade hands his weapons over to Mark, having him carry his equipment. Mark takes the weapons with care and experience, "Strawberry and Banana" held in one hand as the other held the harness up right to keep the guns from falling out. "Put these in the vault would ya. I'm just gonna get washed." He takes a step, stumbling a little, "Keep this between us? Don't need daddy go into mamma bear mode."

"Sure thing." Mark and his siblings would always keep report of Wade's injuries to themselves, anything to keep their dad from panicking or go into a deep state of worry. The last time Peter had heard of Wade's wounds, he was just about to come out of retirement -spider suit and all. Wade takes another step, nearly falling to his knees.

"Here, I got you." Mark looks up the stairs to see Benji jogging down. He quickly moves under Wade, giving the man a piggy back ride.

"You kids are the best. I love you so much." Wade smiles, hugging his step-son from behind.

Benji lifts Wade easily and starts walking up the stairs, arms tucked under the man's legs for better leverage. "Aaaww...pops, you make me all fluffy inside. Love ya too!" Benji smiles in his own tired way, not minding once of the blood getting onto his clothes.

Ellie heads up stairs right after the two.

Emily frowns, "Ellie, say 'hi' first before you sleep."

Ellie groans and heads back down stairs and towards the kitchen. The college student very dead on her feet.

Emily shakes her head as she watches her daughter. "That girl, I swear she just does it to get on my nerves." She sets the S.H.E.I.L.D. equipment down, the heavy metal thumping against the wood. "Hey Mark," he turns to her, "Tell your dad Ellie wants to spend the spring break here with her father. I got to head back to work." She goes in to kiss him on the cheek. "See you later."

Mark makes a face from the kiss, "Sure thing Mrs. Preston." She locks the door behind herself as Mark went to put the weapons away.

Mark walks a bit down the hall to open a secret panel just underneath the stairwell. The panel slides open to show a reinforced steel door with security pad where the door knob should be. The security pad was a tricky, as the numbers were always switching around when ever someone activated the panel. It was a way to keep hackers out and those who do know the password to accidentally activate the security protocol. Mark just swipes his finger across the tops row and pressed pound; the numbers change into random letters. He then enters the code, 'C-H-I-M-I-C-H-N-A-G-A', as each time he enters a letter it would just scrabble again.

It was a very complicated security system with Tony Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D. in mind.

The system beeps and the door opens, sliding down. Mark walks down the stairs leading right into the room filled with weapons of all various kinds, from standard weaponry to secret military projects and mutant killing weapons. There was even kryptonite hanging on the left side of the wall right next to one of the six infinity stone, the soul gem. In the middle of the room was a mannequin concealed in a glass case wearing the latest original Spider-man suit, in its hands were sheathed twin red katanas. The Muramasa Blades, blades made of carbonadium and redesigned hilts made of both vibranium and adamantium.

Mark stares at the combination of both weapons and suit, knowing the hidden intent behind the symbol. The suit now has hexagonal patterns both within the red and blue parts of the suit, barely visible to the eye. Mult-functional reflective lens, the black spider symbol now glows a bit, the compartment belt blending in perfectly with the red pattern of the suit, and web gliders nearly transparent. Whatever else had been added to the suit was designed to be a hidden surprise, an upper hand when the bad guys least expect it. The suit was an inspiration, a model of what a true hero should be.

Yet, if things were to go wrong and Deadpool had to be stopped, then...

Mark continues to walk around the display case, eyes roaming over the suit and weapons in both 'aw' and jealousy. He drops the weapon harness and belt off on the counter behind the display, eyes tracing the large spider symbol on the back of the suit. After setting the equipment down, he walks back around as eyes kept looking at the display. It wasn't until his shoes hit the first stair that he rips his eyes away, turns to quickly leave. His mind racing with imagination of both of his fathers fighting. He stops on the stairs, and looks back once more.

He stops to think, What if it wasn't dad who had to stop him but...Benji? Or me..? Mark turns to run up the stairs, blushing. That would be so COOL!

He makes it up to the first floor and shuts the door panel to see Ellie walk upstairs, dragging her feet. She mumbles something incoherent and barely puts in the effort to wave at Mark.

"Want me to get you up when dinner's ready?"

Ellie grumbles a series of S's.

"Suit yourself." He walks back into the kitchen. His face contorts into a suppressed laugh at the sight he saw. His dad was glaring at Steve as the large man tried to give a series of apologies. Tony looked panicked -scared out of his mind as he tried to get Gwen to stop crying. His grandfathers were failing horribly. May was in the background recording the whole thing with a smile.

Peter looks to Mark with a smile. "Mark can you take your sister to bed?" That was a command.

Mark rushes over to little Gwen, "Sure thing." He takes Gwen away from Tony, Charlotte crawling out of his jacket to rest on Gwen's blanket. Gwen starts to calm down, recognizing the arachnid on her belly.

"Oh," Tony frowns, "Gwen cries when she sees me but stops when there's a spider?"

"She only recognizes the old man." Mark laughs, taunting his grandfather. Gwen gurgles a laugh as Charlotte does a little dance for her, kicking her legs around as she moves back and forth. With the color patterns she has, Mark thought, she might as well be a peacock spider.

Tony huffs, crossing is arms. "I fathered a family of spiders. Unbelievable."

Mark can tell his father was smiling without even looking. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, it just means I'm not made of super glue." Oh, boy...

"Dad, it's not super glue." Peter quickly corrects.

Mark rolls his eyes, And there starts the famous Stark arguments. I am so out of here. Mark rushes his way to the second floor, getting as far away as possible from Stark adults arguing. He takes the left side of the hall this time, facing a mirror hallway. He walks to the very end and walks in the left door, as it was always open.

Oh god, Mark can feel his eyes burn, so much pink! Gwen's baby room was filled to the brim, from floor to roof, in pink. The stuffed animals were pink, the blankets were pink, the curtains were pink, and the clothes were even pink. The only other thing that had splashed of color were the cradle, diaper station, and the diapers themselves. Of course, every Parker kid had a themed baby room. May had a yellow baby room, Ben had a blue baby room, and Mark had a turquoise baby room, leaving little Gwen with pink.

It was the old man's idea...

Mark places Gwen in her pink Victorian styled baby bed and then winds the pink carousel music box, sitting on the pink night stand right next to her. He walks to the other side of the bed and sits in the pink -yet super comfy- rocking chair. He kicks his feet up on the pink foot rest and waits for Gwen to fall asleep...

"Hey!" Mark felt something smack his shoe. He groggily looks up to see 'uncle' Benjamin 'Ben' Reilly, his alias the Scarlet Spider, grinning smugly at him. He was his father's clone made by the infamous Professor Miles Warren, 'The Jackal', and Doctor Otto Octavious or 'Doc Ock', as most people would call them. He was also Benji's favorite uncle and mentor. The man was more than welcome to come by whenever he felt, even at the most odd of times. "Looking comfy Tinkerbell." Being part of the family also gave him right, and ritual, to mess around with his nephews and nieces.

"Fuck off, you Supernatural reject." Now that Mark looks closely, Ben did look like the bald-headed version of Sam Winchester. Black undershirt, navy green button down overshirt, navy blue button jacket, worn regular jeans, and brown timberlands -All he's missing is the pentagram necklace.

"Kiss Peter with that mouth?" He yanks off Mark's hood, ruffling his dark blonde hair.

Mark frowns, swatting at Ben's hands. "Not as long as dad still sucks the old man's dick." He gets up from the chair, throwing the hood back over his head.

"Whoa- " He holds up his hands, "What's with the fangs? Didn't get enough sleep?"

Mark brushes his tongue against his teeth, indeed feeling his fangs had extended. He looks at Ben's left shoulder, seeing Charlotte look at him. "You're the one that woke me up asshole." He wills his fangs away, not liking how they feel in his mouth.

Ben grabs Charlotte, handling her with care as he places her on Mark's shoulder. "Blame your dad. He's the one that told me to wake you up."

Of course he did. Mark rolls his eyes. "Food?"

"Downstairs waiting for you."

"FINALLY!" Mark rushes out of the room and down the hall. He almost made it to the stairs until his uncle decides to block his path. "Move please."

Uncle Ben -the dick- just smiled. "I don't get a hug, or a kiss?"

"You're my uncle. Not my dad. And I'm hungry. Move -please." He was becoming very irritable.

Ben crosses his arms. "No."

Mark lowly hisses, his spider side getting the best of him. "Please," he grinds out, "Can you get out of the way?"

Ben hums to himself, thinking. "No."

Mark doesn't really know if it was his spider side, his teenage side, or what but nothing got between him and food. And he will be damned if his asshole of a uncle would try to even stop him... Mark steps to get around, Ben steps quickly in front of him smirking. Oh yeah? Mark evilly grins, It's so on! He leaps to the roof, sticking to the ceiling. Ben quickly does the same, still blocking his path. Mark then leaps from wall to wall, trying to get around.

Ben just proceeds to block his path, shaking his head at him. "Gotta do better than that squirt."

Mark had enough, he leaps onto the left wall. As predicted Ben follows, giving Mark a chance to grab him by his wrist and toss him to the side. Ben counters by grabbing Mark by the jacket, pinning him to the roof. Mark grabs the man's wrist twisting, hard. Ben lets go to grab with his other hand. Mark deflects the grab and goes to knee him at the side. Ben cringes at the hit. Mark then proceeds to grab his uncle by the ear and yank. Ben hisses in pain and grabs Mark's wrist to stop him from pulling any harder. Ben goes to grab Mark by the neck, only for Mark to bite his hand with fangs, injecting venom. Ben flinches in pain pulling his hand back. Mark proceeds to slap Ben on his bald head repetitively...

After the fifth hit, Ben grabs Mark by his shoulder and forces both of them to fall to the floor. Mark lands harshly on his back as Ben lands on his side. The picture frames on the walls all tip out of place. Ben groans trying to get up, feeling the venom working against his motor function. Mark gets to his feet and stomps past Ben.

"Not...done...yet..." Ben grabs Mark by the ankle. "...punk."

Mark looks at him skeptically, "This punk just kicked your ass," he rips his ankle from his grasp, "asshole."

Ben just laughs, "The...venom?"

"You'll live." He jogs down the stairs.

"Ass...hole." Ben chuckles as he rolls to his back, groaning in pain.

Mark passes the living room seeing Miles and Ganke playing on the PS4 as his sister May sits on the recliner chair still texting away on her phone. He pauses just as he enters the kitchen -there was Professor "Storm" Ororo Munroe talking to "Wolverine"/Logan by the bar, next to them were Kurt Wanger the "Nightcrawler" and Matt Murdock former "Daredevil" chatting with Jennifer Walters "She-Hulk" about the legal system, around the kitchen's island were the original Avengers -Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton with his wife (Linda?) in his arms translating to him in sign, and the other Avengers -Sam Wilson the "Falcon", 'great-uncle' James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, and his personal trainer/mentor Carol Danvers "Captain Marvel". If Mark had to guess by the sounds of laughing and splashing, the younger generation of avengers were outside in the pool.

Mark walks pass the adults and opens the microwave. Nothing.

"Mark," the teen looks at uncle Bucky, "its in the dining room."

Mark nods and moves quickly to the dinning room...more people sat around the table. A few were inhumans, like Medusa and Lockjaw. Some mutants as Mark can only identify Cable and Katherine Anne "Kitty" Pryde, the other two mutants were very old but vaguely familiar. Two humans with their symbiotes; Eugene 'Flash' Thompson with his symbiote "Agent Venom", and Andi with her symbiote clone "Mania". The mutated humans, or 'abnormals' as the government would label them, were his two fathers and his sleeping brother Benji. Yet there was one normal person Mark had always known and loved as well as known to love-

"Auntie May!"

The old woman looks up from baby Gwen in her arms, smiling at her grand-nephew. "Why Mark, why don't you come here and give me a hug?" She was good for her age, ninety four and still counting. Her white hair was pinned up in a neat croissant bun, the aster flower hair pins Wade had bought her held her hair in place. She was wearing a long sleeved sundress with various of flowers printed everywhere in different colors, a rosemary green wool shawl draped over her shoulders, and white slip-on flats. It wasn't until Mark was in hugging range that he notice she was also wearing stalkings and her walker folded behind her against the wall. She kisses both sides of his cheeks, "I haven't seen you in years! Look how big you are! Such a handsome boy, just like your fathers."

Mark blushes, "Thanks auntie." He eases his way out of the hug.

"How's school coming along?"

"Uh..." Mark looks to his dad.

Peter of course got what he meant. "He's being home schooled."

"Oh," she was confused, "Why? What's wrong?"

"He...got bit..?" Peter tries to play it off with a smile.

May made a face, "How did that happen?"

Mark took over for his father, "Charlotte came looking for me." On queue, Charlotte crawls out of Mark's hoodie. His aunt May gasps at the sight of her. "Well, she came looking for dad for help, but I was the only one around the house. So she bit me and we had to fight some crazy scientist from the future." Mark looks off the the side remembering something else, "It was a big deal since the 'Orb Weaver' had to send four other spider guys to help us. Turns out if Charlotte ended in the wrong hands, all universes would be in peril."

"Well, that's very brave of you Mark." She pauses as something came to mind. "And how old were you when you were..?"

"Uhh..." Mark can see his dad get really nervous. "Eleven, or twelve..?"

Aunt May turns to look at Peter with the look that said all.

Peter was weak to the look and couldn't help but spill his guts out. "Everything was chaos that week, Aunt May! Mayday was missing, Wade was on the other side of the planet, and I left Benji in charge to look after him. I had to go out and find what was going on, but I wasn't planning to be gone for long."

"I'm not blaming you Peter. It's just that you need to take better care of yourself and plan further ahead." She frowns a bit, "I know there are greater responsibilities but you're a father now. You can't-

"Psst." Mark felt something hitting his arm, all distracting him from the scolding his dad was receiving.

He looks down to a plate of spaghetti and meatballs wrapped in plastic, "Food! You're a life savor."

"Pas de problème, mon petit neveu*." Mark knew that Cajun accent anywhere. He looks up to his 'uncle' Remy Etienne LeBeau, known to others as "Gambit". "Miss me?"

Now, if anyone would've asked Mark if he had any favorite aunts or uncles. He would instead reply that he categorizes them in what areas they are most "cool" in. Gambit in this pretense, is his favorite 'troublemaker' because the man likes to teach Mark how to be a thief just like him, and play pranks that gets them both to laugh. Not to mention, a good faithful friend of the family. It is through his uncle's quick wit and charm that gets him at the top of the list. Well, second...because auntie May will always be his number one in all categories.

"UNCLE REMY!" Mark throws his arms around the man's waist. "I haven't seen you in like forever!"

"Quelle? It has only been deux weeks." Gambit wraps his arms even tighter around his 'nephew'. "You're getting a bit skinny neveu. You should eat more before you disappear." He backs away, pulling out a fork seemingly from no where. "Bon appétit*."

Mark takes the fork and quickly unwraps the plastic. "Merci*!" Digging into the meatball first he pulls the fork up to eat- The meatball explodes on his face.

Remy is laughing. "I'm sorry neveu. Je devais juste..." He takes a deep breath, "Vous devriez voir le regard sur votre visage*." He laughs a bit harder.

Of course he would. Mark laughs a bit himself, wiping the meat and sauce off his face. He continues to eat the rest, still laughing a bit. "Oh yeah. You better watch it uncle Remy. Je vous rappellerai*."

"Oui*?" Remy begins to calm down. "I like to see you try."

In less than twenty four hours, Mark has been challenged by two uncles. Must be a Tuesday. Mark forks another meatball, but this time with noodles and smirks. "I won't disappoint." He bites the whole thing.

"You guys better not destroy anything." Peter warns them.

"Moi*? Destroying things." Remy put his hand on his chest, acting a bit appalled by the idea. "Never!"

Peter rolls his eyes. "No innocent bystanders. I mean it."

Remy waves to leave the room, giving his neveu space to plan his attack. "Of course monsieur* Parker."

This time Mark rolls his eyes, because of course uncle Remy meant the opposite.

"Mark where's Ben?" Auntie May asks.

Uh-oh... Mark has no problem telling the truth about what happened between him and his uncle Ben, but this was auntie May. Sweet, gentle-heart, auntie May. Telling her what he done would only receive disappointment from her. So Mark can't tell the whole truth, it will only get him in trouble. So, a half truth would have to do. Mark looks over to his dad nervously, giving him a silent tell-tell sign. "He's...resting."

Peter put his face in his hand. He caught on.

"In the afternoon?" She was quite worried.

Peter gets up from his seat and pats his aunt on the shoulders. "I'll go get him. You," he points to the door way, "come with me."

Once they were out of ear shot, Mark huffs. "He started it."

"Where?"

"Second floor." They both made it up the stairs, turning to look down the hall to see Ben on his back with one arm draped over his stomache.

The man was paralyzed. The only control he had were his eyes.

Peter sighs, rubbing his forehead. "How long did you bite him?"

Mark forks his spaghetti, not once feeling regret in his actions. "About a second." He takes a bite, liking his lips of the sauce.

Peter walks, "I'll go get the antidote. You stay here just in case he gets a negative reaction." He heads to the second set of stairs, leading to the lab on the third floor.

"M'Kay!" Mark squats down next to Ben smirking. He pulls a noodle off his plate and places it over his uncle's mouth, giving him a noodle mustache. He adopts a french accent, "Oui monsieur, would you like to make an order?" Mark moves Ben's lips with his thumb, mocking his voice, "Yes, I would like a taste of my nephew's potent venom. As you can see, it's certainly to fall for. HEH-HEH-HEH!"

Ben manages to glare.

Mark forks more spaghetti into his mouth. After he swallows he continues, "But monsieur, you must slow down -too much can kill you!" He move his uncle's lips again, "I'm quite sure your manager has an antidote." Mark sobs dramatically, "No monsieur! We ran out last week! For you see, our manager forgot to make more!"

Ben's eyes widen! Mark continues to eat his spaghetti, smiling.

Peter walks down the stairs, frowning. "Sorry Ben we're out of Mark's anti-venom. It looks like you'll have to wait it out."

Ben moans, eyes gives an indication of sadness.

"It'll last for another four hours -give or take how many milliseconds he held on, before you're even able to speak." He walks over to pick him up. "Just so you know -Mark's venom doesn't destroy the nervous system, only closes off receptors to eats away at the neurotransmitters floating freely." He gets Ben in his arms, bridal style. "So, it doesn't matter the amount -just how long it will last. It could kill you, but not without knocking you out first." He walks down the opposite side of the all, crossing the 'bridge' to get to the right side of the house.

Ben groans, angry. His eyes not leaving Mark's as the teen smiles at him. Mark takes two more bites of his food, leaving Charlotte one meatball and two noodles.

"I could try the quick way to synthesize more, but that means hurting my son." Peter chuckles, "Besides, I think it's fitting punishment."

Ben moans.

"Mark can you get the door?" Mark goes around his father to open the door closest to the stairs. It was the guest room. Nothing fancy about it, just simple amber colors and brown walls, matching furniture setting with the theme. If it weren't for the window showing the outside, the room could be mistaken of a hotel. Peter sets Ben down on the double sized bed, taking off his shoes. "Just get some sleep. It will wear off."

Ben glares at Peter.

"I know -I know, Punk this Punk that. Well if you didn't agitate him you wouldn't be in this situation now would you?" Peter shakes his head.

The door bell rings.

Peter looks to his son. "Mark could you-

"On it!" Mark rushes to the front door, Charlotte quickly hides in his jacket, opening it to-

"Well hello there!" Standing in the doorway was a blonde woman with a dark skinned man wrapping his arm around her waist. She was holding up a cherry pie wrapped in plastic. She was wearing just about every silver jewelry on her person, a plaid green-blue dress, and black heels as the man next to her wore a simple black and white suit. Geez- someone is trying too hard to impress. "I'm Matilda," the woman places her painted nails on her chest, red lips pulls back to show off her perfect smile, "and this is my husband, Trevon. We're the Shaw's." She places her hand on his chest, "We are your new neighbors down the street and just moved in this week." She puts both hands on her pie, her husband smiling at her. "Do you mind if we come in?"

Mark groans, "DAD! There's some weirdos at the front door!" He just met them and already had an assumption about their personality.

Peter's head banks around the corner, frowning. His eyes widen as he saw the shocked look on the couple's faces. "I'm so sorry!" He rushes down the stairs, "My son sometimes doesn't have manners when it comes to new faces. Hi, Peter Parker!" He sticks his hand out to shake.

"Oh, that's okay." The man spoke, shaking Peter's hand. "Our daughter is kind of the same way."

"Speaking of," Matilda speaks, "we were hoping to have a discussion of our daughter getting a playdate."

Peter and Mark look at each other. Peter looks back at the couple skeptically, "A playdate?"

"Yes -oh, can we come in? It's kind of a private matter."

Peter backs away. "Oh-! Yes! I'm sorry." The woman smiles brighter waling in with her clicking heels. Her husband not far behind. "So..." Peter shuts the door and crosses his arms, acting much like a defensive parent should. "...a playdate?"

"Yes, you see our daughter is thirteen years old and we just came in from the West Coast -Los Angeles. She already started school but haven't made any friends since we got here." The woman fiddles with one of her silver necklaces, "She's usually so outgoing and talkative, but after the...testing."

Shit. Mark frowns, feeling bad for the unknown girl.

"She hasn't been herself since." She looks to her husband, biting her bottom lip.

Trevon nods. "We spoke with about half the neighborhood, but none of them," he shrugs, "they don't want to endanger their kids. Which is understandable, or course."

Peter nods. "Of course."

The woman smiles. "And since we saw the guests you have -coming over here, we thought maybe we can work something out?"

Mark saw where this was going, understanding too well he was the prime candidate. He turns to leave but Peter grabs his shoulders, keeping him in place. It was too late! Mark was trapped! Peter smiles, "We would love to help!"

I don't! Mark internally shouts, fearing his fate.

"Perfect!" The woman was relieved, her tense shoulders relaxing by a large fraction. "I brought cherry pie!" She holds up the dessert with a smile.

"Looks scrumptious. Follow me to the kitchen, we're having a surprise party so try to get comfortable." Peter grips Mark's shoulder tightly, a silent warning of obedience. His dad soon lets go, expecting his son to follow. "So where's your daughter now?" The adults walk towards the kitchen. Mark pouts, following his father.

Trevon speaks, "Our son Drevon is looking after the house."

"I'm guessing he's normal?"

Matilda speaks up, "Not to mention he's already in high school. You know teenagers! They like their privacy!" She snorts out a laugh.

"Well, I would if I knew. My kids like to go out more than stay in. My son Mark here likes to hang out on rooftops and jog in the city."

"Parkour." Mark corrects.

"Right. That." Peter was never good at lying. He was already giving himself away by avoiding eye contact.

"Oh that would be great! Wouldn't that be wonderful sweetie! Getting out of the house, see the sites. Get some of that New York air." She breathes in, closing her eyes. "Oh, I can't wait!"

Peter slightly cringes, looking at Mark. Mark gave his dad a 'I told you so' look. His assumptions were never wrong. These people were complete outsiders, unknown of the daily things that happens in New York. Sure, queens was a nice place but once you get to certain parts of the neighborhood... Let's just say they are in a surprise of their lives.

Entering the kitchen, Peter leans down to whispers in Mark's ears. "Go warn your father." He takes the dish away from him, patting him on the shoulder before it slide off.

Mark rushes though the crowd of people, noticing by glance 'Nova' Samuel Alexander and 'Ms. Marvel' Kamala Khan leaving water droplets through the kitchen as they ate. The Avengers now having louder conversations as -wait is there more people? Mark shook his head, not wanting to know how many there actually were. He had a 'thing' it came to crowds, not a phobia but a sense of there being too much would drive him away. It goes with everything, too much pink, too much of a certain smell, too much heat, just -too much of anything would make him turn the other cheek and head for the closest exit.

His limit of people was twenty.

He reaches the dinning room, catching his father walking with 'Colossus' Piotr Rasputin holding Gwen in his large metal hands. They were about to head into the hallway. "Old Man!" He shouts, trying to get his attention. It was just too loud with everyone talking. Not feeling like yelling again, Mark leaps over the crowd and table, landing just behind them. "DAD!"

Wade turns around surprised. "Mark?" His tone a bit serious. Which was understandable as whenever Mark called him 'dad' there was usually trouble not far behind.

"There these new weirdos -neighbors. They came to say 'hi' and looking for a playdate." Mark exhales.

"Hello there Mark." Piotr greets with his usual smile. He was very attentive with the sleeping infant in his hands.

"Hi...Pe-Peter? Pee-tor? I'm sorry if can't say your name." Try as he like, Mark can never say the man's name without speaking his father's first.

"It's alright. Colossus is just fine."

Wade frowns a bit, thinking. He rubs his head, "Playdate, huh?" He made many faces, Mark's understanding of talking to 'boxes' again. "Maybe he just wants us to participate in the family meeting." He frowns more.

Oh boy. Mark knew that face. It's when the boxes gets mean that his father goes into a downward spiral of insecurity. Whenever it came to people, their reaction when first seeing his father was always negative -so much negativity! Mark had grown around that negativity, hearing people's harsh words were poison to the ears. Sometimes, it would get to a point where the words would even get to him. To believe that it was him they were talking about and not his father. And when it does, it was his father that would bring him back. As Mark got older, he would always do this for his father as what his father did for him. Mark walks up Wade and places both hands on the sides of his father's face, getting his full attention. Mark speaks with stern comforting words, "Dad wants you by his side." He slowly releases his father's face, knowing he got the 'boxes' to stop talking.

Wade smiles. "Thanks M&Ms." He hugs his son. They ease out of the hug, now holding hands. "Let's go meet these weirdos, huh?" Wade determinedly walks with Mark, heading to the kitchen. The room goes back to making loud noise, slowly building back up to its peak. "So when you say weirdos, do you mean physically or mentally?"

"Both."

"Both?"

"Yeah, like the cliche white neighbors from Edward Scissor Hands kind of weird. The wife being a stereotype Caucasian and the husband looks like a baseball player, but he dresses like his personality."

"Don't be racist." Wade scolded.

"I meant snotty rich, as in not fun."

"Still- don't be racist. You know we taught you better than that."

"You'll seen what I mean."

Once they entered, Mark squeezed his hand silently reminding him he was there. Just they made their way to the couple, Peter eyes him with a worried smile, an encouraging effort for Wade to come closer. Wade takes a deep breath, "Hi!" The couples turn around and stared, eyes wide. "Wade Wilson -I'm Peter's husband, I also go by the name Dea-oomph!" Wade rubs his side looking down at Mark. Mark shakes his head, You said too much. "Ah, right. I hear you wanted a playdate?"

They were staring. Matilda was the first to break the silence, "Uh -yes. Your husband was -just telling us about your lovely family." Mark was feeling his fangs, forcing his mouth to open slightly. Peter was uncomfortable as well, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. Matilda's reactions along with her words was not the reaction they hoped for. Her husband-

"Got caught in a fire?"

-even less so.

"Playdate." Wade starts and not quiet finishing.

"Yes-yes-YES!" Matilda snaps out of her stupor. She shakes her head, "I'm sorry- so sorry." She sticks her hand out, looking quiet apologetic. "I was rude. I don't mean to be- I'm Matilda, nice to meet you Wade."

Mark can see his dad release a breath. Wade takes her hand and shakes. "Matilda? Hey, you read books all day and explode TV's with your mind! Do you have a teacher named Ms. Honey and a evil principal that abuse every child going to her school? Please tell me you ate chocolate cake before."

The woman smiles, releasing his hand. "Well I'm no Mara Wilson," she tips her head with a smile, "but I do enjoy books. I can't eat chocolate -allergic. And...the only evil principal I knew was in Kindergarden. Mrs. Florence -she would always find an excuse to keep everyone indoors."

"Oh, yeah?" Wade's smile grew. Mark secretly looks at his dad, both he and Peter cringe in realization. Matilda was a chatter box. And with Wade finding someone that can keep up with his conversation and rebuke just as equally meant talks were going to be long. "Never denied you exploded a TV."

"Short circuited -actually. I though it would be funny to place paper clips inside the attached VCR. I was only a little thing then. Bored and childish -I'll admit to being a brat." She laughs.

As the adults continued to talk, Mark can feel Charlotte getting restless under his hoodie. She was kicking her rear legs on his stomach. A sigh she wants to leave the confined space and walk around, maybe even eat. He slowly releases his father's hand, seeing the man was too distracted with the talk he was having. Wade didn't seem to notice. Instead he seem to get more into the conversation, moving his hands animatedly. Mark looks at the other adults' faces, noticing they weren't looking at him. He slowly starts to walks away, sneaking his way from the over enthused parents.

He turns on his heel and agilely creeps through the crowd of parents. He walks back into the hallway and opens the glass back doors, leading to the porch. exhaling he takes in his surroundings, trying his best not to count how many were playing in the pool.

He was standing on the porch, a large overhanging roof help keeps shade on the porch. The porch itself was made of wood and the two step stairs were of stone. The stone stairs instantly connect to the brown stone pathway. That very same pathway surrounds the large pool and hot tub, ending just at the pool house doors on the other side of the backyard. The pool itself was a child's play ground. The bunches of children running up the stone cliff leading up the waterfall was evident of that. The other teens just kept taking turns jumping off and creating large splashes of water. The adults playing with the other children, playing in the water.

The sight made Mark jealous. Tugging his jacket open, Charlotte crawls out. He walks across the porch, eyes not once leaving the the pool. He sits down in one of the pool chairs, and sighs. Charlotte walks around the chair, giving her long legs a better stretch. As she shuffles around, Mark stares at the gleaming water.

He wants to swim. He's yearning for it. He imagines jumping off the rocks, feeling the cool temperatures of the clear water clashing with his hot body temperature, causing a shock to tingle his skin. The feeling alone would make him giddy and laugh. Then, he would dive down lower, seeing how long he could hold his breathe. The water making him feel weightless as he propels forward. The sensation of heat and cold constantly clashing. Hair tickling his senses as it flows freely in the water. The exhaling of air in water constricts his chest in a relaxing hug. Then, his favorite part. He would touch the bottom of the pool, laying on the surface as he looks to the water's ceiling, rays of light moving through the water. Soon after, the need of air. Pushing off the surface, he would splash through the water and breath in fresh air, hair sticking to his face as water comes running down.

Only to do it all over again...

But he can't not anymore. As Charlotte clings to his hands, reminding why he can't enjoy such a simple experience.

He can't do anything if Charlotte was away from him. The downside of having his powers is that he needs Charlotte in order to use them. Without her, Mark's spider senses goes hay wire. His mind in tangling in chaos as his focus will become lost to his surroundings. He will have trouble knowing left from right, to know what was up and down. He would be struggling on his hands and knees, trying to find a purchase only to not know what do with said purchase. The first time he discovered this weakness was because of swimming.

Charlotte was on the waterfall cliff side. A perfect safe place since she couldn't swim. It was the moment he leaped that he felt it. His senses screaming at him, crashing in water and not knowing how to get to the surface. He panicked...drowning...

Mark grumbles in defeat.

"Here." A soda was held in front of his face.

Mark takes the soda and opens it. His eyes flicking to the person who gave it to him. "Thanks, Miles."

"No prob." Miles Morales, the other 'Spider-man', plops onto the pool chair right next to him. "You're not going?" He points the the pool.

"Can't." He looks down at Charlotte. "I'll drown." He pets her back, realizing she was sleeping.

Miles scrunches his face in empathy. "Ouch."

"Yeah." He sighs, drinking his soda.

"You thought about teaching her how to swim."

Mark grumbles into the can, "That's if she would get out of her aquaphobia. Not to mention being a cold blooded creature."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"That sucks."

"Yep."

They both remain silent looking at the pool.

Mark lowers his can, "What's your excuse?"

Miles snaps his fingers, electricity popping at the friction.

"Yeah, best to stay away." They both sigh in defeat.

Silence once more was shared between the two of them.

Miles gives Mark a side look. Mark catches his gaze, "What?"

"Nothing. I just don't get it."

"Get what?" Mark was curious.

Miles turns to him, giving Mark his full attention. "Okay, not to be mean or anything -but you're basically a test tube baby."

"Funny." Mark rolls his eyes.

"No -wait listen! I said that wrong." Miles leans over, soda forgotten. "Peter had taken Wade's DNA and combined it with his to make you, right?" He waves his hand, "The reason being his whole - healing process. Then he got MJ to donate an egg and carried you for nine months."

"What's your point?" Mark went defensive, feeling his friend judging him.

"You have three biological parents." He holds up three fingers. "One his normal human being. Peter was bit by a spider, and Wade was experimented on." He points to Mark. "But you weren't born with powers. You didn't even had a trace of mutated genes in you. You was a normal human being with an average life. May and Benji were born with spider powers. You weren't."

"So?"

Miles shrug, "Why the change of heart?" Mark just gives a more confused expression. "Peter could have done the same with Benji an May, but he didn't."

"That's because the old man wanted a normal kid."

Miles mouth twist to the side. "Can you elaborate?."

Mark sighs, "Both wanted something normal in life without blaming some sort of -well... blaming their own mutant genes. Sure, Mayday was mom and dad's love child. Benji just being a excuse of keeping them together. After my dads married, they found Ellie. She had the X-gene and -well, it activated some time in her teens. Once the old man caught wind, he blamed himself. Dad wanted him to be happy so...he made me."

"...What happened with Ellie?"

"She died trying to save dad. Her powers is just like the old man's, except she has to die if wanted to come back."

Miles held his breath, eyes wide.

"Yeah..." Mark gives a sad smile. "They wanted a normal kid."

"But they didn't..?"

Mark looks back out to the pool. "No...they didn't." He pets Charlotte. In the remaining silence, a thought came to Mark. The discussion he had with his grandpa awoken another curiosity. "Speaking of -I got tested."

"And?" Miles drinks form his can.

"Turns out I have the X-gene as well."

Miles chokes on his soda. He pats his chest, coughing. After he got his breathing under control he stares at Mark disbelieving. "HOW?!"

Mark shrugs. "I don't know, probably mutated when I was growing up?"

"You don't just get the X-gene, Mark."

"Like how we don't get spider powers from radioactive spiders?"

"Charlotte's not radioactive." Miles stare at the spider. "Charlotte's not radioactive! That could be the reason!" He looks back at Mark.

"You think Charlotte gave me the X-gene?" Mark looks at Miles skeptically smirking.

"It's a possibility. Think about it. You weren't born with any powers -no genetic mutations. Once she bit you, you got powers like me and Peter. BUT -you can't go anywhere without her." He leans in closely, smiling like he solved an age old riddle for the first time. "Maybe the X-gene is what linking you and Charlotte."

Mark looks down at the sleeping spider. He twists his mouth, "Maybe."

"Ask your dad to check-

"No." Mark glares.

"Why not?"

Mark looks at the floor. His thoughts running through his head. "It would mean activating it."

"Oh. I...I get it." He leans back in the chair.

"Why don't you ask my dad about these things?"

Miles smirks at him. "You try having a serious conversation and hope he doesn't divert by cracking a joke."

"What are you talking about? Dad doesn't joke."

"He doesn't?"

"No. We always have serious conversations."

"We are talking about Peter, not Wade."

"Neither of them crack a jokes when I talk to them."

"Okay," Miles sits up, "I know what you said about Wade is false."

"It's true." Mark points his thumb towards the kitchen. "Not a while ago I just talked to the old man. He just got done scolding me about being racist."

"No jokes?"

Mark shakes his head. "Dad can be a bit overbearing, and the old man likes to press for morality."

Miles stares.

"What?"

"You got it lucky." He rubs his chin in thought. "I wonder how he would act if you were fighting together."

"Quiet."

Miles narrows his eyes, brows furrowing. "You have to be lying."

Mark shakes his head. "No. When I first got my powers, dad stressed how important it was for me to hold back my strength. He took me out for a test run. We stopped a few thieves and called the police. But he was always quiet. The only time he spoke was when he wanted to give me a small lesson or a repeat of his phrase."

"With great power comes with great responsibility-?" Miles quotes.

"Exactly."

"Usually, when he's quiet he's actually mad."

"Not with me. He's more like a parent with a lot of patience."

"We live in completely separate worlds." Miles gives a gentle smile with a curious gaze. "How about Wade?"

Mark's face pales. He remembers the harsh training; dodging rubber bullets, leaping over dull katanas, and being tossed around like a rag doll. Granted, Mark wanted to know how to get out of sticky situations and move around without being caught to much off guard. The main reason was to test out his speed and agility. So he trained his his father for a while. Wade could be fast, but it was his unpredictability that gets most of his opponents. If Peter can dodge a bullet, then so can Mark. But to predict an unpredictable move was catastrophic and tiring. It pushed his pre-cognitive abilities to a whole new level, 'seeing' things happening before they hit him.

Mark laughs nervously. "He's the most serious out of the entire family."

Miles wince, "That's...are you...no- I get it. I totally get it." He looks between apologetic and wanting to laugh. He knew what Mark meant. He even seen what Deadpool could do at his worst of times. At the best of times, the man can be beyond hilarious, deeply caring -and really confusing.

Marks laughs. "That's the same reaction gramps had when I told him."

"Steve, you mean?"

"Yep." Mark smiles. "He was like 'Mark- you -uh, you feeling -no, that's not right -hey, um -you..." He chuckles for a bit. "He was so lost, but he wanted to say something really bad." Miles laughs with him, imaging a riddled Steve Rogers trying to stumble for better words. Little by little the laughter dies down, easing into calm breaths. "Yeah, my family..."

"Yeah." Miles goes to drink more from his can, only to find it was empty. He looks over to Mark and his soda. "You gonna finish that."

"Hm?" Mark looks at Miles then down to the soda he was looking at. "Yeah, sure." He hands it over to Miles-

Charlotte hisses at Miles and covers the can with her body.

Miles frown. "Don't need to hiss at me." He drops his hand, not daring to fight with the mutant arachnid.

Mark rolls his eyes. "She only likes sharing with me." He pulls his hand back, letting Charlotte crawl to his lap, and pours soda in the cup of his hand. "It's kind of cute." He watches Charlotte quickly takes a drink from his hand.

"Fat." Miles comments as he glares at the tarantula.

Marks laughs. "That's what I said."

"Mark?" Both teen look up, spotting Logan walking toward them. "Peter wants you to pick up the pizza."

"Pizza?" Mark was confused. Miles was in the background smiling.

"And what's-ever on the list." He holds out a sheet of paper.

Mark takes the paper with his free hand and reads the list. "Costco?" He lowers the paper, "He wants me to go to Costco?" Logan holds up the two cards. One being a Costco membership card, and the other a debit card. Both had Peter's name on it. "You're driving?"

"And getting beer." He gruffs.

Mark looks over to Miles, a longing pouting face begging.

Miles puts his hands up. "You're on your own."

Mark groans, grabbing for Miles. "Don't leave me!"

"Nope." Miles edges out of Mark's reach. "I don't like shopping." He gets up leaving.

"Miles!"

"Nope!"

"You're sleeping on the couch!"

"Better than the floor!" Miles walks inside the house, closing the glass doors behind him.

Logan looks between the teens. "He your boyfriend?"

Mark groans. "He's an asshole. And -no, that spot is reserved for Ganke only." Logan gave him a look, implicating he knew sarcasm when he heard it, but didn't quite get the joke. Mark sighs, "Let's go." He looks down a Charlotte, carefully balancing her in his hand and walking.

They head out the back gate on the right side of the house, as the left side lead to garage. Logan's truck was parked out by the sidewalk, a red Ford F-350. As up to date the vehicle was, it was banged up in several areas with familiar claw marks on some of the surface. It had dents, scratches of all sorts, dirt caked in layers and missing hub cap for the front left side. Not even the type of tires match, just their size. It's obvious the poor vehicle never see a wash a day in its life.

Mark fought the urge to write 'wash me' on the black tinted, dirt covered window. So tempting...must resist.

He gets in on the passenger side as Logan got in the driver side. Doors close and Mark reaches for the seat belt, only to find...nothing. "Where's the seat belt?"

Logan looks at him with an eyebrow raised, starting the car.

Mark leans back, "Right. I'll just pretend I'm riding public transport."

Logan scoffs as he faces forward. "Where to kid?"

Mark sighs, taking out his Stark phone. He quickly scrolls through google and picks the location, setting up the phone on the dash for Logan to see. Google maps on display. Logan looks at Mark with the same questionable look.

"I'm fourteen."

"Just tell me the street."

Mark grabs the phone reading the address. "The closest one that is open is... the one on Old Country Rd, Westbury. 1250."

"What about Junction?"

"Closed on weekends." Mark swipes away google maps, turning off his phone. "We have two hours before it closes."

Logan drives the car, heading towards the closest freeway...

Four hours. Mark groans internally as he slams the door to the truck. They had gotten everything on the list, all twenty three items. In the middle of their shopping, Logan had vanished and started helping himself to the free food samples the employees were dishing out. That took about fifteen minutes to find the guy. Soon after, the mutant started an argument with some random guy that shoved right past him. It had taken a third of Mark's strength to literally drag the man away, apologizing to the stranger about his 'uncle'. Then his dad calls saying he had more stuff for him to pick up while he was there, texting him a list of twenty five other things plus folding chairs and tables. Why? He didn't know, but they had got it done. Then the line. God the line was so long, Logan read through two magazines before they reached the counter. They were about to purchase, until Logan said he 'probably' lost the cards at one of the stands. Mark told Logan to stay as he went to search for them. Once, she came back Logan was out of line -cart missing. It seems that once Mark was gone the security came had told him to wait off to the side. Logan left to take a quick bathroom break and found the cart gone. Good news though was that the cards were in the inner pocket of his coat.

They went shopping again, collecting all the stuff. He even gotten himself a little treat just for the hard work both his father and Logan had to put him through. Once -again- at the counter ready to swipe the card, until the cash register broke. Mark at that point blamed the good ol' "Parker curse". Terrific. They head into another line, paid for the stuff and went to the exit.

Needless to say, there were guys at the exit carrying metal detectors. Really? Of course, Logan with his adamantium skeleton, was going to set the machines off. And of course we were stripped searched until the guys came up with nothing. Mark had call his father and tell what had happened. This in turn had grandpa Tony Stark call the Costco manager to release them.

It had taken them another ten minutes to pack the groceries onto the truck...

Now, Mark was rubbing his face and slouching in his seat. Pouting.

Logan gets in the driver side, starting the car.

"We are never shopping together." Mark states.

"Agreed." Logan reverses the car-

THUMP!

Mark rubs his face, dragging his palms down. "Tell me you didn't."

"I couldn't see."

"THEN WASH THE DAMN CAR!"

Logan looks at Mark, frowning with his signature glare.

Mark just matches Logan's with his own.

Logan snorts, sneering at the teen. "I'll deal with-

"No!" Mark opens the door. "I'll deal with it." He reaches over and locks Logan's door. "You. Stay." He hops out and confronts the other driver...

Logan shrugs, taking out a cigar and lighting it with his lighter. "Teenagers."

As the truck parks into the driveway. Mark leaves the vehicle, dramatically, flopping onto the ground. "Home!" He brushes his fingers in the grass, breathing in the non-cigar scent. "How I missed you! Never again."

Logan huffs, watching the teen. "Come help me unpack."

Mark groans, slowly getting to his feet. "You are a plague for all that is happy."

Logan smirks.

Mark just groans more. He grabs the heavier items, seeing that he was stronger than Logan. The foldable chairs and table were in one arm, as six bags of groceries were in the other. Logan had the stack of pizza and other groceries in the other hand. As they walks up the pathway, the front door opens and his uncle Ben walks out with a smirk. Mark rolls his eyes seeing him.

"You guys are late." He walks closer, going for the table and chairs. "I'll get these. You just go inside."

Mark lets Ben take the furniture and walks in the doorway, to tired to say another word. He notices the lights being off. "Jerks." He flips it on. Hi eyes going wide at the amount of people stacked in the hallway, lining up the stairs and covering the entire 'bridge'. Then, there was the song-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU~!"

The banner hanging off the second floor railing with his name on it-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU~!"

Everyone he knew and loved were popping off confetti poppers, wearing ridiculous colored cone hats, and blowing striped color party horns-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR MARK~!"

His parents holding a rainbow birthday cake with M&M's designed in a swirl, the number candles '1' and '5' lit, and his name Mark spilled in cream-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO~ YOU~~!"

They applause. Mark held his breath, not believing what he was seeing.

Wade smiles, "Well come on and blow out the candles birthday boy!"

Mark walks up to the cake. He blue eyes stare at the cake, the details in which he knew took long to make. The M&M's were close together, not one out of line. The white cream underneath was barely noticeable. His name spilled in calligraphy, recognizing his dad's handwriting. His parents made the cake themselves... Mark felt like crying as a tightness filled his chest.

He forgot his own birthday. His parents, they always remembered.

He blew out the candles-

Everyone applause again.

Mark exhales, feeling the tightness leave. He rubs his eyes, feeling the tears threatening to fall. "Thanks guys. THANK YOU EVERYONE!" Once said, everyone started to scuffle around. Then younger children went back to playing, the teens as it seem were done with swimming and made their way into the kitchen with the some of the adults. His uncles went through the hallway taking the groceries inside and setting up the tables and chairs out on the porch.

His father hugs him tightly. His dad leans over holding the cake to his his head. "Happy birthday M&Ms."

"Thanks dads." Marks smiles.

"We'll just be in the kitchen with the cake. Don't want the ice cream to melt and leak out."

"Ice cream cake!" Wade cheers and follows his husband.

Steve walks up to Mark, handing him a red box with a black widow spider draw on the corner. "Natasha wanted to give these to you. Before she passed." There was a gentle look in his eyes, happy but with the sadness of losing an old teammate.

Mark lifts the box's lid and sucks in a breath. There in the cush of velvet were matching pairs of butterfly knives. Spider webbing engraved into the black handles and black widow spider insignia in the middle. The blades were red, the steel reflecting light back into his face. Each blade had one curved side and one ridged side. Mark smiles remembering his 'aunt' Natasha. "She promised to get me something that fitted my character." He closes the lid, remembering the long red hair fading into silver. "I was always jealous because she got May a survival knife, and Ben one of those knives that fits over the knuckles." He looks up to his Steve, "Thanks gramps."

He pats Marks shoulder. "No problem Mark. You take care of yourself. And be careful of where you swing those things. Healing factor or not, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Sure thing gramps." His gives Steve a hug around the hips, seeing as the man actually towers over him. "I wish aunt 'Tasha was here."

"Me too." They ease out of the hug and Steve follows the other adults into the kitchen.

Tony walks over to grandson and throws his arm around his shoulders, giving him a tight side hug. "You gotta stop forgetting your birthday champ. Only I'm allowed to do that. Okay?" He squeezes his shoulder.

Mark nods, in fear his emotions will get the best of him. His eyes still glassy as he still tries to rub his tears away. "Yeh." He chuckles lowly.

"Yeah?" Tony kisses his forehead. "We love ya kiddo. Don't forget that." He pats his back. "Oh, one more thing." Tony takes an envelope out of his jacket. "Fury wanted to give this for your birthday but couldn't come."

Mark takes the envelope and realizes it a letter from S.H.I.E.L.D.. Mark's eyes widen staring. He looks up to his grandfather. "Did I-? Is this-?"

Tony makes a hushing gesture and winks. "Just between you and me," he looks around making sure no one saw, and whispers, "I heard you made quite an impression with the judges to the point your evaluation was pushed to the front line." He pats his back and lets it slip down. "Good luck kiddo." He walks away leaving his grandson to his own.

Mark stares at the envelope. Yeah, I'm not opening this now. He rushes upstairs, and tosses the presents onto his bed. He runs back down the stairs and got his own piece of ice cream cake and slices of pizza. He makes his way into the living room, taking a seat on the armrest next to Samuel. He watches the television watching his friends play Super Smash Bros. on the Wii U.

He was onto his second slice as the competition got serious. Teens yelling, anticipation climbing, characters moving at faster pace than what average players can take. Combos. Counters. Dodges. Blocks. Until a rookie mistake was done-

"GAME!"

"That's not fair!" Mark heard a female shout, grabbing one of the losers' controller for himself.

"You got greedy! Admit it!" Samuel laughs.

"Whatever!"

Time went on playing video games. Mark losing some and winning more. After a while, he just ended up spectating, fingers feeling a bit cramped after playing an intense one verses one match. He walks to the kitchen, planning to drop off his plate.

He spots uncle Remy talking with Logan. In the mutant's hand was ice cream cake.

Oh...? Mark felt the smile growing on his face. This is perfect...Revenge is mine.

Mark drops his plate on the counter and hides beside the cupboards. He creeps forward, listening on their conversation.

"Is that so?" Remy was smiling, "You purposely wondered around the store to buy Peter more time?"

"Yeah, I could've found the kid by scent alone. Not to mention the spider he carries around. I also left the shopping cart on the other side of the store, once the kid went looking for the cards."

Hearing this made Mark bristle in anger. HOW DARE HE! He peeks over the counter, careful in his movements. This time he had two targets in mind. He pulls his sleeve back a little, revealing the web shooter around his wrist. With careful aim he points the device at Remy's plate and fires. The plate tips over and lands on Logan's front, covering his jacket and shirt. In surprise, Logan flings his beer, spilling some on his boot. Both adults were staring at the mess.

Logan looks up glaring, Remy holds up his hands trying to defend himself. "Now, hold on."

"Gambit." Wolverine was growling.

Marks giggles and sneaks away as the growling turns to a shout fest in seconds.

The rest of the day was spent hanging out with the other heroes, hearing tales and hard trails they had to go through. He spent devouring as much cake and pizza he could as the younger heroes and children were shuffling to always get more. Once stuffed he went to chat with with his uncle Remy, admitting to what he done earlier. Remy laughed patting his neveu for a 'job well done' but not to get him involved with Wolverine ever again. After a few more pranks, the man left with his wife Bella Donna and two kids. Soon after, the adults started to leave with their family. The X-men left as one big group as they had taken the jet to get here. The other heroes slowly left one by one, his grandparents being the last ones to leave. Auntie May wanted to stay for the night, not feeling well enough to go back home. When in truth, she didn't want to be alone in a house when she just experience a large get together.

Mark turns off the electricity in the living room, turning off gaming systems and placing remotes back to where they were. He picks up trash, throwing it way in the dispenser.

Peter hugs his son. "Go get some rest Mark. You look dead on your feet."

Mark yawns, "Sure thing dad." He takes one quick look in the dinning room, "Night Auntie May!"

"Goodnight Mark!"

Mark trudges up the stairs, shoulders slouching. He walks down the hall, opening the door to his room. He picks his presents off the bed and places them in the drawer of the night stand. Once the bed was free of clutter, he plops down in bed face first. A smile plastered on his face.

It was a long day.

A happy day.

His birthday.

Mark sighs, feeling Charlotte crawl off of him as she makes her way to the little spider home just next to the head board. He quickly sits up and takes the jacket off, tossing it on the dresser. He then proceeds to takes his shoes off and kicks off his pants, leaving them scattered on the floor. The sugar in his system claiming his tired mind into a crash. He crawls underneath the blanket, his body automatically curling up closest to Charlotte.

"Night Charlotte."

Charlotte chitters, snuggled in her little home.

Mark smiles more as her words reach through his mind and into his dreams.

'Pleasant dreams and Happy Birthday Young Spider.'