I'm so so excited to post the first chapter of my Spiderman fanfiction! I spent a good long time writing this one and I'm really happy with the result. As you might notice, during tense moments, I use fragments and one-word-sentences a lot. I tend to do this even more with first person perspective. I feel like it's really helpful and effective for first person and for moments like this.

I also want to point out that I have not watched many Marvel movies over all and am a very new Marvel fan, so some facts about locations, items, and stuff like that could be wrong without me knowing. Just an FYI.

I just saw Spiderman: Homecoming last night for the third time this week and I was so pumped to write this afterward that I just went and finished the chapter that night.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer:

I do not own the Spiderman franchise, the Marvel franchise, or any of the characters. That all belongs to Marvel Studios. Everything to Marvel Studios. Any added dialogue, plots, or characters are mine, but nothing else. I don't own it.


Chapter One - Nightmares On Wings

Flames. Orange tongues devouring plane remains. The scattered purple of alien cores.

Hissing sand. Blood, slippery and wet on my hands. Someone's breathing hard.

A constant ringing fills my ears. Smoke stings in my watery eyes and blends everything together, creating a thick, painful haze.

Vulture explodes from the fumes.

An escape attempt reminds me– my web fluid's depleted. Massive claws hook around my shoulders and the predatory nemesis ascends into the foggy air. Vulture's speed is so intense that the colored lights of Queens are nothing but radiant blurs to my right. The fiery wreckage scene below fades into the smoke and clouds, misting over in flickers of orange and purple.

The only home I've ever known grows smaller and smaller under my dangling feet. Blood oozes from the talon wounds as I'm whisked farther upward. Another scream tears itself from my throat.

Higher, higher, higher.

Vulture's eyes emit a hollow, red gleam.

"Pe…t…r…"

Vulture releases me and I plunge downward, wind slashing at my face.

"P…ter…!"

I emerge from the clouds to find myself falling directly toward the merciless flames. I have no willpower over my body. I can already discern the searing heat and the alien cores detonate one by one.

Vulture grabs my legs and jerks me to a halt, flipping me over and ripping my chest open with a single slash. Bloodstained claws send me barreling into the fire.

Dancing lights consume my body, eating everything. Scalding, white-hot pain crawls up my neck. I'm convulsing on the ground, writhing as the torturous acrobatics reveal nothing but withered, black flesh.

"Peter!"

My eyes snap open.

Ceiling. Window. Faces.

My muscles erupt into action, groping violently to escape from my own mind as the thoughts of the fire and Vulture overwhelm me.

Somewhere, I hear my name. Hands pin me down. Still, I struggle.

Faces. Words. Gasping.

Nothing registers in my head. Just the heat. The pain. Vulture.

After what feels like an eternity, my wrestling slows.

"That's it, Peter… Calm down. Breathe…" A woman's voice. Familiar.

What? Who's…?

The faces swim into focus. When at one point I thought there'd been many blurry prospects, now there are only two.

Aunt May. Ned.

The rest of the world brightens around me. I'm lying in my bed, perspiration soaking my skin and dampening my sheets. The blankets twist around my legs, my breathing unsteady. I'm trembling with every exhale and tear stains dry on my cheeks.

Wait. What just happened?

A warm, gentle hand passes over my vision and swipes a strand of hair out of my eyes. May.

"Hey, Peter. You with us, man?"

Ned.

Instead of answering, I pull my quivering arms behind me and push myself off the bed a few feet. Avoiding the worried looks and glancing around my room, I familiarize my mind once more with the current state of events.

A sleeping bag rests in an awkward position on the floor and beside the pillow sits a thick book and a nightlight. Right. Ned had slept over. We'd stayed up late last night, discussing Spanish, Algebra, the Stark internship, and just catching up with each other, not to mention building some new Lego sets.

"Peter?"

I direct my attention to May, her lips pursed and her eyes wide. She squeezes my arm, giving me a tiny smile.

Realizing that my eyes are wider than they feel to be, I blink a few times and focus on my aunt.

"You okay, tough guy?"

I move my right hand over to Aunt May's, gripping it like a lifeline. That nightmare… Never before had one been so warped, so brutal, so sudden. It's only when Aunt May pulls me into her arms do I notice that I'm shivering and that tears roll down my face again.

"It's okay, it's okay… It was just a dream."

Accepting her embrace, I curl into her arms.

"Just a dream…"

Seconds stretch on into minutes.

I don't know how long I'm nestled in May's hold, but when she lets me go, Ned spares a glance at the clock and gives a cry of exclamation. He's out of the room before I can ask him what's the matter.

With one last hug, Aunt May leaves me to my thoughts.

My gaze darts to the open window where a sweet, morning chill wafts in from the outside world. Thoughts of swinging between buildings and flipping in the air on resilient webs prompt a smile on my face and I lug my heavy body off of the bed. Within a couple of seconds, I'm slipping into the Spiderman suit and folding the mask over my face, heading for the window.

"Hello, Peter."

I stifle a cry and stagger backward, whipping around to seek out the voice.

"What's the hurry?"

"Oh… Hey, Karen. It's-it's nothing– I'm just gonna swing around for a bit. Help some people, catch some robbers, do some flips. It'll be fun. It'll help me feel better."

The door opens behind me.

"Dude, where do you think you're going?"

I whirl around. Ned stands in the doorway, his jaw hanging open and a backpack slung over his shoulder.

I pry off my mask. "Uhhh… I'm-I'm gonna go do the Stark internship. Why? Does someone need me?"

"Peter, the bus'll be here any minute."

I stare at him for a few seconds, contemplating his words. My heartbeat escalates sevenfold.

School.

"Oh, crap– it's a school day!" I kick the door closed and toss a jacket and jeans on, covering my suit. Shoving my mask in my backpack, I wrench the door open to find Ned still standing there, waiting for me.

"The bus pulled up out front. You got everything?"

I run through a list in my head, then nod. As we're racing for the door, Aunt May stops me on the welcome mat.

"I'll see you in the bus." Ned pats me on the shoulders and departs.

Aunt May cups my chin in her hands. "You gonna be okay, Peter?"

"Yeah." My low voice is barely above a whisper.

"If anything happens, anything at all…call me."

I flash a quick grin in answer.

"Do you want to talk about your dream after school?"

My stomach clenches and it takes all of my willpower not to shout no in her face. Instead I shake my head, putting on a confident expression.

May kisses me on the forehead and traps me in a fierce hug. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She withdraws and strokes my hair a few times. "Try to have fun."

"If only."

"See you later."

I meet Ned in the bus and take a window seat, resting my chin in my hand and my elbow on the windowsill.

"Peter– ."

"I don't want to talk about it if that's what you're asking." My rebuke exits sharper then I'd meant it to, but an apology couldn't be farther from my mind. My nightmare, wonderfully enough, is at the front of it.

The bus jolts into motion.

I say nothing at first, however, soon strive to start a conversation with Ned. After a few minutes of small talk, I'm beginning to perk up.

"So, Peter, how's the Stark internship?"

My heart skips a beat. "Ned, shut up!" I drop my words down to a whisper. "You can't talk about that here."

Flash smacks me in the shoulder. "Stop talking about your Stark internship, Peter. It's not real. We all know that."

MJ snaps her book shut. "Could you quit your whining? I'm trying to read."

Flash stops bugging us.

Ned's smart this time and dodges the topic of the Stark Internship. Instead, he prompts a different conversation. "So, Peter… Who's your favorite Avenger?"

"Ah, come on! That's an impossible question!"

"I like Thor…"

"Of course you do."

"Come on, Peter, who's your favorite?"

"Well, Mr. Stark isn't here, so I don't have to say Iron Man. But I like…Black Widow."

"Really?"

"She's cool! And we're both spiders."

"Hawkeye's pretty awesome."

"They're friends. Black Widow and Hawkeye."

Ned's eyes widen. "I heard about that! That'd be awesome… To be friends with an Avenger!"

"I know– ." My phone buzzes. I fish the iPhone out of my backpack and answer it after shooting a look at the name.

"Hey, Mr. Stark."

"Hey, kiddo!"

"What's up?"

"I thought I'd give you call and see how great your life is. You missing me yet?"

"Nah."

"Ouch. What's your status?"

"I'm on the bus."

"Right. I forgot you kids still have to educate yourselves. You want me to call you back later?"

"It's fine, Mr. Stark. I don't mind."

Ned taps my arm and lowers his voice. "Tell him about your dream. You might as well tell Mr. Stark if you're not gonna tell me or May."

I glare at him, unconsciously responding in a louder whisper. "No! I can't tell him that! There's no reason why he'd want to know something like– ."

"Tell me what?"

I freeze at Mr. Stark's gravely tone. Crap. Make up a lie. "Uhh– it's nothing, Mr. Stark. Ned and I have been building some new Lego sets and we've been thinking about combining some to make them cooler and– ."

"Okay, I'm going to stop you there. Don't even think about lying to me, Peter. You know that doesn't work. What's going on?"

"I– ." A shiver trails down my spine as thoughts of the dream pop into my head. "Can we talk about it later?" I purse my lips at the pairs of judgmental eyes trained on me.

"Fine. You'd better tell me sometime though."

My voice reduces an octave. "I know, I know… Why do you care so much?"

"If something's wrong, maybe I can help. Come on, it can't be that bad."

I hold back a groan. "All right… Vulture still bothers me."

"I'm not surprised. You didn't think you'd walked out of last year without any scars, did you?"

"No, but– ."

"It's common to still struggle with things like that. I have a lot of memories from past mistakes and stupid decisions that stick with me."

"What do you do?"

Mr. Stark hums. "Y'know what, it's a bit complicated. Or– well– there're a lot of things that I do. It depends on the situation. For you, it's gonna be different then if I'd tripped in my own bedroom. Want to talk after school?"

"Sure. Thanks, Mr. Stark."

"Anytime, kid. Now."

"Now?"

"How's school?"

"Boring."

"Well, that's nothing new. Tell me something new."

"There's never anything new at my school anymore since last year."

"If you say so. Anyway– Oh, sorry, Peter. I've gotta run. Bruce's visiting for a meeting any minute."

"Okay."

"See ya, Peter."

"Bye, Mr. Stark." I hang up and return my phone to the backpack.

Ned exchanges a look with me. "You okay?"

I nod.

The high school swerves into being beside the bus.

"Here's our stop, Peter." Ned lifts his backpack and I trudge out of the door with him at my side.

I don't get five steps out of the bus before Flash darts past me, whacking me in the head. I bite back an insult and watch him leave. Of course. Just another typical day at school. Consistent. Slow.

Nothing new. Nothing at all.


AUTHOR'S NOTES: Oooooh, what do ya think's gonna happen at school today? Hmm... Wait and see til the next chapter!

But anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, whoever you are.

There were two things in particular that I wanted to highlight in this chapter.

One: That crying and/or vulnerability are not bad by any means. In fact, they're both good things. Seeing a fictional character cry or break down when you've never seen them like that before makes them more human in my opinion. It makes someone connect with that character in a different way, to see them in a new light. Sure, it's also based on personality too, but I know that there are people out there who would probably find it a bit weird that I made Peter break down so much in this chapter or made him that emotional. For one, I'm an emotional person and I tend to write that way automatically. And two, Peter is a teenager. From watching the movie, I'd say he doesn't have the type of stone-cold personality that would stop him from crying. He did cry a few times in Homecoming and, again, I think it makes him more human. It reminds us that he's just a kid.

The second thing is this: That Peter's experience with Vulture affected him way more than it seems in the movie. I know that it looks all great and triumphant on screen, but if something like that actually happened in real life to a teen like Peter, no matter how much he's used to fighting crime, that would still terrify any sane human being and give them nightmares of some kind. I had a friend a few days ago who was surprised when I told him that I was making Peter have a nightmare about Vulture. xD

Also, I know that, chronologically, Bruce should probably be in Sakaar, fighting in the Contest of Champions as Hulk, but I'm just focusing on Earth right now and I'm not following that chronological stories of other movies.

Read and review!