Peter Parker woke up in the alley, his head throbbing and so dizzy he felt like he would topple over when he stood. He checked underneath his clothes to see that his Spider-Man costume was safely hidden. And his mask was in his back pocket. Good.

Peter knew it was about time to be getting home to Aunt May, so he quickly changed and headed to Queens, his clothes inside of a backpack made up of his own webbing. He wondered what delicious meal she had prepared for him tonight--he really hoped it was meatloaf.

Spider-Man took the easy route--underneath the bridge, a few feet up from the water, over the high school he attended, and into his quiet neighborhood. He landed on the school roof with a thump. His spider-sense was not buzzing, yet something felt very wrong. The school looked like it should, yet there were a few things out-of-place that he couldn't point out. He shrugged it off and landed on his roof and crawled to the attic window.

But the attic window was locked.

This gave Spider-Man a very bad sign. It was never locked--never! What was going on? Why did everything seem so off today? Spider-Man shrugged, crawled on the side of the house and peered into his bedroom window.

It was not his bedroom.

Some teenage girl was lying on her bed, painting her nails and talking on the phone. Spider-Man didn't understand. This was his house! What was going on...?

He then jumped a few houses and checked Mary Jane Watson's house, who was Peter's girlfriend and who knew his big secret. He looked into her bedroom window as well, which also had a different owner. What the hell was going on?

Spider-Man didn't understand. Everything was normal...this was his house, this was his neighborhood, this was his town, this was his city. He decided that swinging around as Spider-Man may not have been the best idea, and he changed his clothes. He went back to what should have been his home and knocked on the door. The teenage girl who had been on the bed came down the stairs and answered. She opened the door and played with her long, brown hair.

"Hi. Can I help you?"

"Yeah. Hi. Uh, this might sound crazy but...I used to live here." Peter said.

The girl smiled. "Oh, yeah? Well...uh...where did you move?"

"I have no idea." Peter mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Hey, do you mind if I come in and take a look around?"

The girl thought. "I'm really not supposed to let anyone in the house when my parents are out...but...sure. You don't seem like a guy who would rape me and leave me for dead."

"That was a compliment, right?"

"Right. Come on, but don't take too long."

Peter smiled and walked inside the house. His house.

Everything was how it should have been--the kitchen was exactly right, the stairs...it was his house, except someone else had moved in and added all their things.

"This is too weird..." Peter mumbled.

The girl titled her head and smiled. After a few moments passed the girl started to feel uncomfortable. "I'm really sorry, but I think you should go. If you'd like, I work at a Starbucks a few blocks from here, down the street from the high school. I get there at nine."

Peter nodded. "Okay. Thanks for letting me look around..."he said, and he headed out the door.

"Thanks for not raping me and leaving me for dead."

"Oh, you're welcome!"

"You're welcome too!" she laughed. Peter nodded and headed down the street. Peter would go to Starbucks tomorrow, because right now that house and that girl was the only information he had. Peter, who had slept outside on stake-outs and such as Spider-Man, had never felt so alone as he stretched himself out on a bench down the block from his house. Hopefully no one would be taking the bus...otherwise, they were out of a seat.