Disclaimer: Wow. I got my first ever follower! That's amazing! Thanks so much to ggboyking, you made my day, sir!

Even though my writing talent should warrant otherwise, I still don't own Marvel, Spider man, fight club, or Apple. That last one has nothing to do with the story though...

I still make no money from this. ON WITH IT!

Chapter 3:

"Along came a spider..."

2014

The building was red mason, dilapidated and bland. The only thing that set it apart from it's neighbors, was the cheering and screaming coming from inside.

Peter approached a set of heavy green doors, the signs of rust and decay evidence of the age. Gingerly Peter entered the doorway.

The hallway Peter found himself in wafted with cigarette smoke and the stink of alcohol. The people he found inside smelled worse. At the end of the hallway, a set of heavy steel doors barely blocked the violent cacophony bursting through the holes in the walls. A giant of a man in shades sat on a chair near the doors.

Alright Peter, just pretend like you belong here. Peter thought.

He walked up to the double doors and the bouncer stepped in front of him.

"Go home kid. Adults only."

Under his mask, Peter smirked.

Tyler Durden had to admit. His MMA chain gym had come a long way from making soap. He stared out at the huge roofed arena ending with a mere concrete circle on the floor. The stands were packed with spectators cheering in blood curdling guffaws. He gazed on the concrete slab where two grown men were pummeling each other to bloody pulps. He smiled at his life's work come to fruition.

Then there was a crash from the entrance.

The double doors sprang open and through the gaping hole his bouncer came flying.

"What the?!" He said as he stood up out of his seat. His bouncer smacked to the ground and skidded to a halt near the ring.

In the glow of the hallway outside a figure stood, the pale yellow light casting a long shadow ahead of him.

"I heard this was a Fight Club. I didn't expect the bouncer would be in on it though."

The figure wore shin high red sneakers over blueish pants. He wore a sleeveless red hoodie and a bright blue jersey. A red ski mask hid his face, and where his eyes would be he wore blacked out cup goggles.

The crowd stood in shocked silence. Then they thundered into cheers and boos and whistles. They threw popcorn and chucked bottles at his head.

Rough crowd. Peter thought as he dodged another culinary projectile. He bent his knees and jumped into the ring, cracking the concrete slightly as he landed.

"Any takers?" Peter asked with a lot more confidence than he felt. A man stood up from the crowd and walked over to the ring. The crowd started chanting, slowly.

"Cage... Cage... Cage... Cage..."

The man was a whole Peter taller than Peter.

The crowd's cheering became louder and louder, ever more desperate as the figure named Cage walked closer to Peter in the ring.

"Cage... Cage... Cage... Cage... CAGE… CAGE… CAGE! CAGE! CAGE!"

Cage pulled off his thick leather jacket and threw it to the ground. He was wearing a yellow tank top and bright blue Jeans. A heavy chain acted as a belt. He walked up to Peter and cracked his fingers.

"You're a big guy. Let's see what you got..."

The man yelled and came running up at Peter wildly swinging his fists and trying with all his might to get in a hit. Surprised by the ferociousness of his opponent's attacks it was all Peter could do not to get hit.

He dodged a right hook and then a left cross, then he fell to his back to dodge a vicious kick.

Hey! I'm pretty good at this!

"What's wrong? Your skills trapped in that cage with you?" Oh gosh that was so bad. I have to get better at quips!

Peter thought just as a huge fist collided with the side of his head. His cup goggles shattered on impact and stars sparkled in his field of vision.

Ow. Monologue later. Peter thought and dodged another swipe. The man stood back, then charged. He raised his hand as if to punch, but Peter felt the danger coming from below him. He jumped over Cage as he made a sliding tackle. While upside down in the air Peter swung his fist careful to pull the punch, and accidentally knocked the guy unconscious.

Cage hit the floor with an anticlimactic thud. Peter landed on the concrete floor gracefully and blew on his knuckles. The crowd sat in stunned silence. Then they cheered. More and more people came in and had a go at Peter, but he put them down easily. Then they came in twos. Then fours.

It became overwhelming. There was danger from all sides. Peter had to bob and weave and jump around just to not get hit. He fell over. He was getting tired. Sweat dripped off his forehead.

They're everywhere! Well... everywhere but up. Maybe... Let's hope I can grab onto something on the roof! Peter thought as he leapt high up in the air.

He couldn't see anything to grab, but as his hand brushed the ceiling he felt some tingling, like static. His hand stuck to the roof.

He hung there. Stuck to the ceiling.

The commotion down below stopped for a moment. Peter put his other hand against the ceiling and it stuck as well. He pulled his feet up, they too held firm.

Then, someone threw a chair.

Soon Peter was crawling along the ceiling like a bug, dodging chairs and bottles and all manner of things thrown at him. He was like a cat on a hot tin roof, weaving through the projectiles to stay up.

I can't take much more of this! Peter thought as his lungs burned. Someone! Help!

The speakers bleated to life as Tyler made himself heard:

"Everyone! HOLD IT!"

Everyone held it.

Tyler walked down to the floor, right under where Peter was gasping for breath and said: "Come down kid."

Peter dropped from the ceiling, landing in a ready pose, wheezing next to Tyler.

"What do I call you, kid?"

"Wha?" Peter asked as he gulped in mouthfuls of air.

"What do I call you? What's your stage name?" Tyler frantically whispered.

"Uh, I don't know? I'm just sticking on things? Uh, Roof Walker?" Wow. I am a moron. Peter thought.

Tyler grabbed Peter's hand. He sensed no danger from Tyler though, so he let it happen. Tyler lifted Peter's hand high in the air and shouted:

"Let's hear it for PARKOUR!"

The cheering of the crowd was only second to the cheering in Peter's mind. His heart was racing. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like a sugar rush.

This is the greatest thing ever. Parkour huh? Peter Parkour? Ironic.

I like it. Peter thought as the crowd chanted his new name:

"Parkour! Parkour! Parkour! Parkour!"

One week later

Despite Randy's pleading, Peter didn't join the football or basketball teams. He didn't need the attention. He was the top player in a much better sport.

As Parkour he leapt around buildings and went to fight club every night. He'd climb out of his window at night while the Stacys slept and live life as he wanted.

Gotta get home quick. Peter said and leapt up the fire escape. At his window, he jumped through and stuffed his Parkour suit in a secret place by the fire escape.

It was dinner time in the Stacy household, lasagna night. They all sat around the table in high spirits.

"Well, George, any news on the investigation?" Aunt May asked. "You've all been wonderful, but I'm aching to go home."

Captain Stacy smiled sadly and said: "We'll May, I have good news and bad news. Our people should be done by the end of the week. The man who broke into your home used experimental weaponry, things that use radioactive ammunition. The space should be decontaminated by now, but I'd rather be safe. It is an ongoing investigation after all."

"Speaking of ongoing investigations, I've been hearing rumours at the hospital. Rumours that there is a vigilante patrolling Manhattan!" Aunt May laughed at how ludicrous it sounded out loud.

Captain Stacy visibly stiffened before assuming a more rigid posture but he made an attempt to remain open.

"Well May, that is true. I won't deny it. We'd get a summons over the radio and by the time we get there, the crooks are bound in some sort of organic rope!" He scoffed.

Peter nearly choked on his lasagna.

"Sorry? Did you say organic ropes?" He asked frantically.

"I know! Can you believe it?" George said shaking his head. "It's definitely not something I thought possible."

"What do you mean organic?" Peter asked.

Captain Stacy gave Peter a searching glance, almost like he suspected something.

"Well, they're made in a similar way that spider webs are. That's where this guy gets his nickname from. The Spider."

Peter stood up abruptly and walked to the door.

"I need some air." He said and walked out. He leapt down the stairs to where he hid his Parkour suit behind a loose brick in the fire escape.

"I need to check on something..." he said as he pulled on the mask.

Peter landed on the roof of their next door neighbors, the Watsons, home. He stared at the two policemen chatting on their porch.

Silent as a whisper, Peter climbed down to the door that led from outside into the basement. He softly turned the key, and crept inside.

He walked over to the inside door, checking to make sure it was locked, Peter switched on the light.

He walked over to his lab.

"I KNEW IT!" Peter screamed. His web gun was missing and so was all his web fluid. Wet footprints led from the outside door to his lab and back.

He heard a sound from up stairs. Leaping on the ceiling he stuck as close as possible, hiding between the wooden beams, so as not to be seen. In walked a hooded figure, a mask on his face. Peter saw him look around a bit, and steeled his resolve.

Peter landed in front of the figure and pointed a finger at the figure's chest.

"You took something that doesn't belong to you. I want it back. And I have a very bad attitude towards burglars."

The figure made to run but Peter chucked a small web fluid vial at the figure's hand, sticking it to the door handle.

"I've got you now." Peter said.

The figure took off its hood, and slowly removed its mask. Short blonde hair spilled over the figure's shoulders as she faced Peter.

"Hey Peter." Said Gwen.