Peter wheezed and rubbed his chest as MJ and Harry caught their breaths in front of him. They were hiding under the awning of a closed deli, the streets barely filled seeing any life other than them. "What...the hell...happened?" MJ asked.

Harry, who had a better grasp on oxygen at the moment, finally stood straight. "I don't know what it was. It looked like some kind of animal, I think. I couldn't see well down there. But I think it used to be an old lab," He confessed.

"Not old," Peter finally said. "Under the tarp, there was your dad's logo all over them." Harry gulped as he stared at Peter in shock. "I'm serious."

"My dad with...an underground evil lab?" He asked, frowning. "Pete, c'mon. You must've hit your head."

"Yeah, really," MJ said. "This is Norman we're talking about. This guy's basically looking at a cure for cancer research. Plus, he's kinda your boss." Peter winced at that. "We should get home," She said, shivering as the rain finally started letting up.

"Yeah," Peter said, sighing as he checked his camera, seeing the images of the broken house and the lab stored away.

Norman hummed as Peter shifted anxiously. "Thank you for these photos," He said simply, smiling at Peter. "There's one missing."

"The storm last night," He sighed, shoulders slumping. "I was downloading and saving and..." He gulped. It wasn't like he could tell his boss how he broke onto private property to get better images, fell through to a secret underground lab, and got attacked by something inside.

Norman just smiled. "All good, son. One thing I do admit is a flaw in our society: Our reliance on technology. It's become our failsafe, but what do we do when that fails?"

Peter, unsure if he was being rhetorical or not, said, "Have a panic attack," out loud, though immediately flushed as he'd meant to keep it to himself.

Norman laughed, of course, and nodded. "That's certainly the best way to put it. Don't worry about it. You're good for today, but are you sure you're okay? You look a bit pale."

Peter smiled a bit as he shifted. "It's been a long day at school," He admitted. It wasn't a total lie.

After MJ and Harry had gone home, Peter tried to fall asleep. Instead, he'd tossed and turned throughout the night, waking up in a sweat when he finally acknowledged the alarm on his phone. When he finally did get up, a wave of dizziness washed over him until he'd stumbled into the wall. He had to take several blinks and rub his eyes before he could see straight. When he tried moving again, it seemed like the world was in slow motion. He finally oriented himself after washing his face, getting dressed quickly. It didn't take long to notice his binder felt a bit snugger and his pants felt almost too short.

He'd brushed it off and hurried to school. Once in the class, he found himself sighing in relief, having just barely made it. Not long into the lecture, his hand snapped up, catching a paper ball being thrown at him. He blinked in surprise, not having moved his head or even seen the note being thrown at him. Of course, it was another obscene drawing and he glared in the direction of the assailant, noting they'd ducked their heads down quickly to avoid being busted. He attempted to toss the piece of paper into his backpack, blinking when it stuck to his hand. Peter gulped and tried to calm himself, shaking his hand in the bag as discreetly as he could.

Instead, he'd found himself with his backpack and its contents stuck to his palms. When he finally freed himself, they all crumbled loudly to the floor, calling the teacher's frustrated attention on him. He counted himself lucky he didn't get detention.

As he made his way to Oscorp Tower to meet up with Norman himself, he found himself trying to muffle his hearing, the sounds of New York surprisingly louder than he could stand until he'd nearly been hit by a car, trying to escape into an intersection. Peter had no idea how he made it but he simply jumped and found himself launched onto the other side of the street, rolling to his feet. He was lucky New Yorkers tended to roll their eyes at theatrics as he hurried away.

Now, standing in Norman's office, he was just happy the man was content with what few photos he'd gotten.

Peter tugged at his collar, hoping to relieve the tension around his neck. Norman smiled up at him. "Go home, Peter. You look exhausted."

Peter nodded then gulped. "Is uh...Is Harry okay? He wasn't at school."

"I think whatever adventure you three went on last night got him the cold," Norman chuckled. "Been in bed, moaning about how bored he is. God knows he has an endless supply of entertainment. I'm pretty sure MJ has been gaming with him online," He humorously admitted.

Peter nodded. "Alright. Thank you again, Mr. Osborn."

"Ah, wait." Norman got to writing and sealed the check in an envelope. "There we are. Can't forget to pay you."

Peter sighed as he made it home, hurrying up to his room and aiming to toss his wallet onto the desk, only to sigh as the wallet stuck to his fingers. He tried tugging it off then found himself trying to tug both hands off the wallet like a pair of Chinese finger cuffs!

"C'mon!" He sighed, giving up and collapsing onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling blankly, trying to understand what was happening to him. Instead, he just found himself agitated by the grooves in the plastering above him. He then blinked again. His eyesight had never been so defined before. Usually, things would just blur by him. He blamed his unchecked eyes and useless prescription glasses he just kept on his desk.

Peter turned his head, studying the walls. His posters seemed much more surreal than usual, able to see the tiny printing errors from his bed.

He shook this off and curled up, blinking as the wallet fell to the ground. He hummed and flexed his hands, thinking to himself he should wash his hands much more often as he headed for the bathroom. He absently began to wash his hands but stopped as he caught sight of the spider bite on his hand. It had been swollen throughout the day but seeing it then, it had practically dwindled, save for visible veins of red spreading through his hand.

Peter gulped and cleaned the wound before putting on some antibiotic.

"Peter!" Aunt May suddenly shouted, making the boy jump. "Peter, are you home?"

"Yeah! I'm home!" Peter panted, blinking rapidly in shock as he gulped. "I'm in the bathroom!"

"Alright. I'm going to go to the store. Do you need anything?"

Peter hesitated, looking to the mirror. He was clinging to the ceiling, watching his own reflection pale at the realization. "No! I'm fine!" He called.