Peter Parker was six years old when his parents left him with Uncle Ben and Aunt May. They dropped him off in the middle of the night, and sent him off to bed. Peter didn't argue. He was tired, and he always listened to his parents because he was a good boy, so he went to sleep. Uncle Ben hugged him before chasing him up the stairs. Aunt May tucked him in, kissed him on the head, and ruffled his hair a bit. She gave a weak smile, but she was smiling, so that meant she was happy, right? Peter beamed back, and was soon asleep. He never saw his father walk into the room with a metal briefcase, or pull out a syringe full of a clear liquid.

The next morning, Uncle Ben sat him down at the breakfast table, taking a seat right next to him, and turning them so that boy and man were facing each other. Aunt May stayed in the living room, her quiet, muffled sobs barely reaching Peter's ears.

"Uncle Ben, why is Aunt May crying?" Peter asked, peering up at the man. Ben sighed.

"I have something to tell you, Peter. You might not understand it, but it's very important. I want you to pay attention, alright?"

Peter nodded slowly, very nervous now. Usually, whenever his parents sat him down for a talk like this, it was because he did something very bad (usually by accident. He was a kid, after all). "Did I do something wrong, Uncle Ben?" Peter asked slowly, eyes wide as he tried to remember. Nothing came to mind at the moment.

Ben seemed taken aback. "No, no no no, Peter," he quickly assured the child, taking his tiny hand in his slightly wrinkled, much larger one. He ran a thumb over Peter's knuckles. "Nobody did anything wrong, Peter. It's just… Well, something happened. To your parents."

"Mommy and Daddy? Where did they go?" Peter tilted his head, mop of dark brown hair flopping about.

"Ah, uh… That," Ben chuckled awkwardly, "That, I don't know. They said they were going to catch a plane, but they never told me where to. But, that's not the point. The point is… The plane crashed. In... The middle of the ocean. Your parents… Peter, your parents are gone." The tears that had been building in Ben's eyes finally rolled down his aged cheeks, followed by many more, and the man kneeled down to scoop his nephew into a tight, nearly suffocating hug. Peter reciprocated, wrapping his tiny arms around his uncle's neck, not sure what else to do. He already knew his parents were gone. After all, they weren't in the same house as him, so they obviously must have gone somewhere else. He wondered why Uncle Ben missed them so much. They went on business trips all the time!

It wouldn't be until the funeral that Peter realized his parents weren't coming back at all.

Nine Years Later

"Peter! Wake up, you have to get ready!" Aunt May called, startling Peter out of bed. He nearly rolled off the mattress in a panic, barely catching himself halfway to the floor.

"I'm- I'm up! I'm up!" Peter yelled back, fixing himself so his head didn't crack on the wood planks when he attempted to rise to his feet. He rushed around the room, showering and brushing his teeth in record time, before nearly sprinting down the stairs, slamming into his chair at the breakfast table. May scolded him with a fond smile, sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of him. Ben merely smiled and flipped the page in his newspaper.

"Thanks, Aunt May!" Peter managed to slip out, before his mouth was full. He ate quickly, thankful for the small miracle that was him not choking, allowing him to escape yet another lecture about remembering to chew. Once done, he slipped his plate into the sink, gave Aunt May a quick hug and peck on the cheek, Uncle Ben a firm pat on the shoulder, and beelined for the front door. "Bye! I love you guys!" he shouted as he opened the front door, tossing his skateboard to the ground.

"Later, bud!"

"You had better not break your neck with that silly contraption, Peter!"

"I'm basically Tony Hawk!" Peter joked, locking the door behind him, not at all concerned that May and Ben definitely wouldn't understand that reference. He hopped on his board, and took off at a breakneck pace down the sidewalk, swerving to avoid cracks and patches of grass that broke through the cement. He was so excited; today was the class field trip to Oscorp!

Of course, it would've been way cooler to visit Stark Industries or the Baxter Building (imagine meeting the Avengers or the Fantastic Four!) but Oscorp was still pretty great. Considering it was the only technology-centered business able to keep up with the other two without having its own superhero brand, it was pretty damn impressive. Granted, there were a few key differences. Stark Industries focused mostly on clean energy, courtesy of the arc reactor, and everyday technology, a huge change from the weapons development company it was in Peter's childhood. The Baxter Foundation was… A bit foggy. They seemed to just deal in whatever the Fantastic Four were researching at the moment, and considering there were four of them, each with wildly different interests, they had a lot to show the world. Meanwhile, Oscorp was the leading name in biochemical engineering, always pushing the boundaries of the human body.

It didn't hurt that he was childhood friends with Harry Osborn, but he hadn't seen Harry in a while. Last Peter had heard, the Osborn heir was incredibly sick, and had been sent to Europe by his father to see some of the most renowned medical professionals in the world. The two still talked via email occasionally, but… They weren't that close these days. They hadn't spoken in a few weeks, and Peter sometimes wondered if he'd lose his only friend to something as mundane as distance. The thought made him frown, and he shoved it away whenever it appeared. These days, he found himself doing it more often than not. Like now, for instance.

"Hey, Parker!"

Dragging his foot against the ground, Peter slowed to a stop, and glanced out into the street, trying to find who called his name. He found himself staring at Flash Thompson's red convertible. Flash himself sat in the driver's seat, a shit-eating grin on his face [Flash from Amazing Spider-Man movies]. Next to him was a familiar redhead. Mary Jane Watson. She lived next door, with her mother and aunt, and in classic girl-next-door fashion, Peter sort of had a crush on her [Kirsten Dunst's Mary Jane, but younger].

Well, not really anymore. He'd long since come to terms with the fact that he was a loser, and that it was better if he kept his head down in high school. He'd have chances in college. Probably.

In the backseat was Liz Allan [Spider-Man: Homecoming], another one of the popular girls, and Kenny Kong [Earth-26496], Flash's very large, very mean, best friend. The car was stopped at a red light, and Kong threw an apple at him. Peter, used to the bully's antics, simply sighed as it smacked against his chest, bouncing off. His sternum throbbed a bit, but he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of rubbing at it.

"Hey, Flash," Peter said, sighing. He couldn't exactly skate away, because a) Flash was in a car, which was way faster than a skateboard, and b) that would only make Flash wanna beat him up even more. Well, more than usual. "Nice day outside, huh?" he asked flippantly, glancing up at the clear blue sky.

"Still skatin' around like a dweeb, Parker? What, you think you're gonna miraculously find a date like that?" Flash sneered. The light turned green, but there was nobody behind Flash, so they didn't move.

"Nah, I'm just… Tryin' to get to school. And, ya know, maybe be the next Tony Hawk?" Peter joked, a weak smile on his face.

"Yeah, sure, that'll happen." Kong laughed, booming voice echoing across the suddenly too-quiet street.

Peter grimaced. "Right. I'm, uh, gonna go. S-see you guys in class, I guess," he mumbled, kicking off and rolling down the sidewalk. Flash passed by him a moment later, engine roaring.

"Eat my dust, Parker!" Flash shouted, flying down the street. He made a wild turn, and vanished from sight.

"Consider it eaten," Peter muttered, shaking his head. And like that, his mood had soured. Today was gonna be a great day...

Oscorp was cool no matter how many times he saw it. It felt like there was always something new. Harry had shown him around the labs a few times, so Peter was rather underwhelmed by the displays they were shown, but he managed to keep himself entertained by sneaking around and peeking at things that the students weren't supposed to access, then catching back up with the class. It was on one of these return trips that Peter was accosted.

"Peter, I need to talk to you," Mary Jane said, falling into step beside him.

Peter blinked. "Uh, sure. What's up?"

"Flash is planning something. I overheard him talking to Kong about it. I think they're gonna take you somewhere hidden and beat the hell out of you."

Peter rolled his eyes. "What's new?" He sighed at Mary Jane's affronted glare. "Look, I appreciate you telling me this, honestly, but… It's what they do, Mary Jane. Being outside of school isn't gonna make them suddenly act like functioning members of society." He counted her giggle as a victory, smiling a bit despite his impending doom. "Listen, if it makes you feel better, I've been here a ton of times with Harry. I know this place like the back of my hand. Worst comes to worst, I'll run somewhere those two can't find me, and meet up with the class at the end of the trip. Alright?"

Mary Jane pursed her lips, but nodded tersely after a moment. "Alright. It's just… I worry about you, Peter. Ever since Harry went to Europe, you've been a lot quieter."

Peter's throat tightened up unexpectedly, and he blinked his suddenly-wet eyes a few times. He shook his head. "N-nah, I'm- it's fine, Mary Jane. Really. I'll be fine. Uh, you should probably go catch back up with Liz, she's giving you weird looks." The redhead glanced at the brown-skinned girl, who was staring at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah, I probably should. Peter, if you ever need to talk, you know I'm only a door away," she said reassuringly. His mouth went dry.

"I'll… I'll keep that in mind," Peter responded, tongue heavy behind his teeth. Mary Jane gave a satisfied nod, and sped to the middle of the group, where the other popular kids were. She slipped seamlessly into the conversation, managing to get Liz to back off with a few words and a laugh. She glanced back, winking at Peter, and he had to throttle his heart to keep it from leaping.

Peter shook his head, rubbing at his temples. Mary Jane did not like him. She just happened to be a very nice girl, whose niceness happened to extend to him. She was not a girl that had a crush on him- those don't exist. She was basically a concerned neighbor, and that was all. Besides, if she actually like liked him, then she would've done something to stop Flash and Kong, rather than just warning Peter.

Right?

Left, left, right, should be at the bio labs, they always have the side door unlocked, and nobody's in there at this time of day. I can just slip in and duck behind a counter, Flash isn't gonna think that any of the doors are gonna just be open because it's Oscorp, of course they'd have better security than- that's not the bio lab.

Peter glanced around, and amended that statement. It was the bio labs, but there was just a new section. He hadn't been here in a few months, though, so it was understandable.

Biocable development unit? The hell is that?

Footsteps pounded down the hall. It seems like Flash and Kong had finally caught up, unable to traverse the halls with his familiarity.

Aw, screw it!

He yanked the door handle and shoved it. He was mildly surprised when it opened with hardly any resistance, but he flung himself inside, slamming the door shut as quietly as he could. He pressed his ear against the chilled metal, listening to the hallway. He had a foot pressed against the bottom of the door, so that if the goons tried to open it, they would meet resistance, and assume it's locked. He heard the footsteps grow closer, until they were nearly right on top of him, then go past, fading into the distance.

Peter sighed, allowing the tension to slip out of his frame. He pressed his forehead against the metal, basking in the coolness against his heated skin. For a moment, he rested there, slowing his heart rate. Then, he turned around, readjusted his glasses, and let out the breath he'd been holding.

He was in a fairly small, sterile, white lab. In the middle of the room was a conveyor belt, a machine placing small trays full of little cylinders into plastic boxes, which were then being shipped out of the room. On the far wall was a machine with four arms, stretching a number of strands between each pair of mechanical limbs, folding them over a bar and repeating the process like a loom. Finally, right next to Peter was another door, leading into a small, blue-lit room. He got close enough to the transparent barrier that his glasses bumped against it, but was only able to see a revolving wireframe. He opened the door, and stepped inside, wandering around with slow, cautious steps.

There were actually two of those wireframes in the room. The completely circular one he saw was the smaller one, while orbiting it was a semicircular frame. Peter navigated into the space between them, walking opposite the direction of the rotation of the structure. In the squares made by the intersecting bars, there were spiders, crawling around on what looked like webs, and everything clicked into place. These spiders, which seemed to glow blue in the light, were producing the web. The mechanical loom outside was compacting the webbing into the small canisters, and the canisters were being carried elsewhere by the conveyor belt. Considering how thin spider webs were, there was probably a very long strand inside each one.

"Wonder what Mr. Osborn's doing with this stuff…" Petter muttered. That's when everything went wrong. Suddenly, the frames stopped moving, and a whirring resounded in the room. The spider webs on the rack began shifting, and Peter whipped his head around wildly. Upon looking up, he saw that the web was being collected by the pincers on the ceiling. Some of the threads had the fluorescent spiders on them, and when the spiders met the pincers, the arachnids fell- right onto Peter.

He went stock still for a moment, terrified out of his mind, and was startled into action by the feeling of something crawling around in his hair. He started breathing heavily, slapping at the top of his head, and immediately bolted out of the blue-lit room, back into the sterile white lab area. He brushed himself off one last time. Once he was satisfied that he was spider free, he heaved a massive sigh of relief.

"Holy shit. I think I have arachnophobia now," he muttered, doing his best not to shiver. The influx of adrenaline in his veins, forcefully activating his fight-or-flight instinct, made that a bit hard. He spent a few minutes leaning against the wall, just breathing, and getting the rest of the jitters out of his system, before finally leaving the lab- and coming face-to-face with a blonde girl he vaguely recognized.

Peter worked his jaw for a second, trying to remember her name. "Aren't you, uh… Stacy? Gwen Stacy?" [Gwen from the Amazing Spider-Man movies]

"Yeah. And you're Peter Parker," she replied, with narrowed eyes.

"Y-yeah, that's me!" He chuckled nervously. "F-fancy, uh, running into you here. Like, what a coincidence, am I right? Small world, and all that jazz."

"Peter, you realize that you're trespassing, right?"

"Uh…"

"Shouldn't you be back with the rest of the class? You know, on your field trip?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Ah, see… Well, um, what about you? Ya know, we're in the same class, so how come you're not-" That's when he noticed the lab coat, and the official ID badge hanging from the breast pocket. "And, you work here. Nevermind. So, I'll just, uh, see you around?" he asked, doing his best to casually slip past her. She held out an arm, blocking his path, and he ran a hand through his hair. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy.

"You know, it would be proper protocol for me to report this to security. They'd escort you out the building, and you'd probably get suspended from school for causing a scene."

Peter's heart dropped.

"But, I was shadowing you guys. I know you only left to avoid Flash and Kong, so… Just this once, I'll let it go."

Peter beamed at the blonde, clutching a hand to his chest. "C'mon, Gwen, ya can't do that to a guy!" he joked.

She smirked. "Hey, I'm being nice. I can go and report you, if you want…"

"No! No, no no, that's fine, it's cool. I'll take a heart attack any day." They laughed, and Peter followed after Gwen.

"Hey, Peter?" Gwent asked after a few moments of relaxed silence.

"Yeah?"

"Would you happen to be related to a man named Richard Parker?"

Peter froze, stopped dead in his tracks. His heart skipped a beat. "W-where did you-?"

Gwen, who had continued on for a few steps without noticing, walked back towards him. She placed a hand on his arm gently. "Are you okay, Peter?"

Peter massaged the back of neck. "I- yeah, I guess. But, where did you hear that name?"

"Oh! The reason I'm here is because I'm interning with Doctor Curtis Connors. He said he once worked closely with a Richard Parker, but Doctor Parker vanished nearly a decade ago with no word. Doctor Connors thinks he moved away suddenly- he had a pretty hectic job, apparently. So, do you know him? I'm sure Doctor Connors would love to know that his friend's back in town!"

Peter rubbed his arm, ignoring how it made his sweater chafe against the flesh. "...Yeah. Richard Parker was my dad… He… Him and Mom died in a plane crash nine years ago."

Gwen's hands flew up to her mouth, barely stifling her gasp. "Oh my god, Peter I'm so sorry! I had no clue, I didn't mean to be so insensitive!"
"It's… Well, it's not fine, but… You couldn't have known. I'll let it go, just this once." He sent her an exaggerated grin, and relaxed a bit when she snorted. He outright laughed when she seemed horrified by the noise that came out of her.

"Do you… Would you like to meet Doctor Connors?" Gwen asked shyly, once Peter quieted down. "He's in the building, and he said the Midtown High tour was going to pass by his labs. You might be able to hang back for a few minutes and chat with him, so... Maybe it'd be good to hear about what kinds of things your father worked on?"

"...Yeah. I think I'd like that."

"Welcome. My name is Doctor Curtis Connors. And yes, in case you're wondering, I am a southpaw," he joked, glancing pointedly at the stump where his right arm once was. A few of Peter's classmates chuckled nervously. "I am the world's foremost authority on herpetology- reptiles, for those of you who are unaware. But, like the Parkinson's patient who watches on in horror as her body slowly betrays her, or the man with macular degeneration, whose eyes grow dimmer with each day, I want to create a world without weakness. Would anyone care to venture a guess as to just how?" A student in the front raised their hand. "Yes?"

"Stem cells?" he asked hesitantly.

Connors tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Promising. But, the solution I'm thinking of is more… Radical."

"Cross-species genetics," Peter piped up from the back of the group. He'd managed to avoid drawing attention as he slipped back into the tour. Gwen, who'd led him back, now stood next to Connors. They were paying attention to him now, though. They parted, allowing Connors to look Peter straight in the eye. The teen gathered his meager reserves of courage, and pushed forward with his answer. "Parkinson's is caused by the deterioration of dopamine-producing neurons in the brain. The zebrafish has the ability to regenerate cells on command. If you could, somehow, give this ability to the woman with Parkinson's… She'd basically be curing herself."

Connors gave him a small smile. "Might I ask your name?"

Peter nervously glanced at the floor, licking his lips. "Peter Parker, sir."

Connors looked ready to say something, but the ringing of a phone cut him short. He pulled the device out of his pocket and glanced at the Caller ID. "I'm afraid duty calls. I'll leave you in the capable hands of your tour guide." Connors walked away, and while the class huddled around the guide, Gwen came to stand next to Peter.

"Sorry, Peter. I guess I forgot that Doctor Connors is pretty busy. Looks like you'll have to arrange an appointment… Or, we could exchange numbers, and I'll let you know when he has some free time?"

"Oh, uh… Yeah, I can- we can do that. If you want." It took only a few seconds, but Peter stared at his screen in awe afterwards. With the addition of Gwen, he now had an astounding four contacts in his phone (the other three being Uncle Ben, Aunt May, and Harry)! He cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly upon noticing that Gwen had noticed him staring at his phone for a bit too long. He stuffed the device in his pocket, and cleared his throat again. "So, um, how come you're, uh, working on a school day?"

Gwen, thankfully, didn't mention his weirdness. "I have an agreement with the school. So long as I keep my grades up, I get to visit the labs once or twice a week instead of going to classes. And considering I have the highest grades in our year, I think I'm doing a pretty good job balancing everything."

Peter blinked. "Wait, you have the highest grades? I thought…"

Gwen seemed amused. "What, just 'cause I'm blonde I can't be the valedictorian candidate?"

"I- whoa, I never- I never said that, no way, there's nothing wrong with being blonde and being smart-"

Gwen chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm just messing with you. But yeah, you're in second place," she said bluntly, which was mildly offensive.

Peter placed his hands on his hips, leaning back in surprise. It was a move he'd picked up from Aunt May. "Well." Gwen snorted, tried to stop, snorted again, and busted out laughing. Peter chortled, a bit nervously, aware of the people who were suddenly looking at them. He just waved, and they went back to what they were doing, but he noticed that Mary Jane's eyes lingered for a while. Probably just making sure he was actually still alive and in one piece. Eventually, Gwen calmed down, apologizing for making a scene. Peter waved her off, and they trailed after the class, chatting idly. Afternoon rolled around, and the Midtown High students were sent back to the school building, and went home for the weekend.

Peter skated home, bustling into the house, making absentminded conversation with his aunt and uncle. He went upstairs, and sat down heavily at his desk. Pieces of half-mangled tech littered the surface, things he'd picked up from surface-level dumpster diving and the occasional visit to the local junkyard. He stared at the circuit boards, and was considering making a bit more progress in cleaning and rewiring them to repair the retro dvd player they were from, when a sharp pain made him slap at the back of his neck.

"Ow!" he cried, looking at his hand. He was not expecting to see the smashed remains of a very familiar fluorescent spider on his palm. For a moment, he sat there in silence, simply staring at the dead arachnid. Suddenly, the world felt too hot. Sweat began dripping down his forehead like he was caught out in the rain, his internal body temperature skyrocketed, and his vision blackened at the corners. He stood up, instantly regretting the decision when his weak knees knocked together and his legs nearly collapsed underneath him, but he soldiered on to his bed, not wanting to end up on the floor when he inevitably passed out. He barely had enough time to think one last thought before his mind faded, and his eyes slipped shut.

That's not good.

Peter in this looks like Andrew Garfield, because that is one handsome man. Not too old, like Tobey Macguire, and not baby-faced like Tom Holland, even if Holland's depiction is more believable.