Chapter 3

"Help, help, somebody, help me!"

The thing about a superhero is that people don't call you that. Not at the start anyway.

"Quiet," the assailant muffled her with his hand and shove a knife at her neck, "Now give me all your money or I'll slit your throat out."

They'll call you menace, a creep, criminal, vigilante.

"You know…" an uncharacteristically high, cheery voice pierce the dark tension. The mugger looked between his sides, but there's not even a shadow of a man. "...it'd be really hard for her to give out her purse with you pushing her like you're trying to feel her. Totally impractical. It'd be better if you let her go, go home, and kick back on your sofa. It'll save you the embarrassment of me kicking your ass."

"Who are you?!" The man cried with a slight tremble. The darkness of the alley did not help his nerve, "Show yourself!"

It was totally unfair when all I ever wanted was to help people. But… a part of me (probably the self-hatred, angsty, unreasonable part) was glad for the reception. It means I have the chance to actually earn that title.

Having sufficiently distracted him from the woman, faster than the mugger could react, I stroked the hand that held the knife and kicked him away from the woman. He grunted, and I didn't let him gain his stance before leaping high enough to knee him on the side of the head.

The guy tipped sideways but stood upright, my eyes boggled at him behind the googles. "Really? The last guy I tried that was instantly KOed. You must have hit your head a lot to get that hard."

He grew frustratingly angry and whipped out another hidden knife (Where does he even keep that?) and brandished at me with a war cry. Having super-reflex at my side, it felt like indulging a toddler trying all their might to hit you. No, wait, I take that back, toddlers are way worse, you never know where they're going to hit you. He's worse than a toddler.

But he certainly is more durable than one. I punched, dodge, kicked, dodged repeatedly, and still, he wouldn't go down. It was getting annoying, and as my temper got the better of me, I took hold of his knife-arm. Locked his arm in place, then giving a nice swift kick to his torso before he FINALLY stayed down.

Though my super-sense did not let me miss the audible crack from the last hit I made.

" Aaaaaarrgghhhhh ! My ribs! Ow, my ribs, you broke them! Argh!"

I winced at the poor man's cry of pain and covered my mask-covered mouth in horror, "I'm soooooo sorry, I'm still new at this super-strength stuff and I've been trying really hard not to accidentally maim anyone."

"Aaaaaaarrrrrrggghhhh!"

"But to be fair, you shouldn't really threaten defenseless woman, Mister. You never know when karma will bite you in the ass for it."

"Fuck yaaaaaaaaaarrrrrggghhhh!"

"Now that is very rude, and here I am apologizing and giving you good life advice."

"Aaaaaaarrrrrrggghhhh"

"Okay, Mister "Argh". You stay here, and I'll call the ambulance."

"Err..." that voice wasn't Mister Argh. turned around, and the lady I saved was still lingering in the alley, phone out with a dialed 911 number on the screen. "I already called the police and ambulance to the scene so…" she sounded unsure how to proceed with the conversation. Getting saved by a wall-crawling, googled-eyed man isn't exactly an everyday thing.

"Oh thank God, you did." I slumped my shoulder in relief, "All the other people I saved immediately ran off once I arrived so I had to call the police with no one to testify against them."

She raised her perfectly drawn eyebrows and glanced at the whimpering man on the ground, "Did you leave them just as bad as him, if so, I might call on more ambulance."

"Oh, no. I left the other more or less intact and unconscious. The police should know if they need medical attention. This is the first time I actually… err… break anyone."

" Aaaaaaarrggggghhhhhhh ."

"You do know you might have given them a concussion?"

I was surprised at her insightful thought and gave a proper look at her, and noticed the scrub she was wearing. So she's either a nurse or a doctor.

"Urgh, I know. But then if I don't knock them out, they might run and hurt someone else. I can't forgive myself if that ever happens."

The auburn-head woman gave a piercing look that made me feel like I'm under scrutinization. "While you weren't given many options, as a neurosurgeon, I would suggest you invest a rope to tie your crook instead of leaving them for the poor sods working the night shift."

I froze, and stared bug-eyed at her, "What did you just say?"

"What? The poor sods on the night shift?"

"No, no, before that."

"Invest a rope to tie your crooks?"

That's it! An idea sprang in my head, and I laughed raucously. She jumped a bit back by my change of tune. "Doctor, you're a genius!"

"Umm… thank you?" She sounded unsure at my exuberant reaction for the rope suggestion. Oh, how little she knew that I held a much, much more exciting idea in mind than just investing a boring rope.

The tell-tale siren and I got ready to bolt, "Thanks for the suggestion Doctor… what's your name?"

I was suddenly aware of the fact that a masked man who easily broke someone's bone asking a lone woman's name doesn't exactly bode well and wanted to slap myself for the blunder.

She hesitated for a bit before answering, "Call me Doctor Palmer." Silently, I was grateful for her small show of faith for me.

"Well thank you again, Doctor Palmer, you just made this spider's day." I jumped from one wall to another before landing on the roof and started running for the next trouble awaiting on the streets of New York.

. . .

Life felt different without Uncle Ben. As if nothing can ever be the right again. The funeral had been a simple one. MJ and Harry came.

"He didn't deserve it, Peter. Your uncle is worth more than all the bastards in the world, he didn't deserve this. You don't deserve this." MJ held my hand and it felt like holding on to the only lifeline I had from drowning in my own dark thoughts.

"I can't imagine what you must be feeling, Pete. But I'm sorry it happened to your uncle, of all people. He was cool. I…" Harry squeezed my shoulder. "I don't even know what to say in this case, but just know I'm here for you, Pete."

Going to school was like going through the motions. While I would like more than anything to wallow in my misery in my locked messy room. I knew I couldn't move on if I didn't take the first step. I wasn't back, emotionally, but I was getting there. My senses that were supposed to be jacked-up became numb, everything seemed to pass by in slow motion, and I irrationally felt claustrophobic from the eyes of the masses that couldn't seem to take their eyes off me like I was a ticking time bomb. I didn't think anyone knows me enough to care.

The hardest thing during that period was getting my power under control. More than once did the water fountain break down, locker door bent, or a badly returned basketball crashing through the tempered glass. Even when Flash began calling out to me, I warned him not to get close before the last shred of my patient snap. The moment he touched my shoulder, I pushed him back to the walls and lifted him up. I didn't care there were witnesses who saw me man-handling him, I just wanted to be left alone.

"This feels good right?" Flash started saying, strangely calm at the face of my wrath, "Look, your uncle died. I'm sorry. I get it, I do. And I'm so, so sorry."

There was nothing in his words and tone that wasn't sincere, and to hear, Flash-Eugene, of all people, said it. That shattered me. The strength in my arm fell and loosened my hold on me. It took every bit of my remaining control to keep myself from crying in front of him. So I backed away and quickly ran. Because as much as I appreciate the sentiment, there's no way I'm going to break in front of him.

"Peter?" A voice, soft and apologetic. Gwen stood in front of me. Usually, just her presence would light up my day. But not today. Not now. I wasn't sure I was ready to face her or anyone really, not to mention hearing another apology.

But Gwen didn't say anything. Just surge up and pull me into a hug. I rest my chin by the crook of her neck and let myself be soothed by the warmth and comfort of her. Let myself be vulnerable even as I still kept myself from crying. No words were needed, but it was weird how that one action told me everything she didn't say, but I knew.

I knew.

. . .

"Peter, hurry! You want to see this."

"Comin' Aunt May."

I made hasty steps down with the TV already blaring in the living room. Almost a week has passed since the incident. We both tried to keep each other strong until the house didn't feel somber anymore with just the two of us.

On the screen, Tony Stark looked back at me with the familiar cocky smile that seemed to tell everyone "You know who I am." His trademark goatee that I wouldn't be surprised if he had copyrighted it. While I may still be grieving for Uncle Ben, I couldn't deny the jolt of excitement at seeing one of my favorite science figures.

"Yes, in five months' time, the Stark Expo will once again reopen for the best and brightest people and industries to pull out their resources share their collective visions, leaving behind a better future," Mr. Stark said from the TV. His professional attitude then melted away as he slouched like he's exhausted. "I'm sure I already told you this. Why am I telling you this again? Someone ask me a better question, please!"

One reporter raised her hand and did just that, "Lana Lois from the Daily Globe. Will you be replicating your father's concept of the Stark Expo?"

"Finally, a good fu**ing question, see what she did there everyone? Take notes. And as for the answer; God, no. If he were still alive, he would disown for putting forth the exact same concept. My old man had many principles, one of them is that if you're gonna do something, make sure you either do it bigger or better. And that's what I intend to do."

"Would you mind explaining those detailed plans of yours?"

"Well there's too many to list them all, but I can say one of my plans is to create a segment that acts both as an exhibition and a competition. A reminder that Stark Expo doesn't only exist to leave behind for the future but for the future to make something of themselves. That's why I'm proud to announce the Stark Expo will gladly receive all youths and schools that put their vision into reality. The winner would get a full scholarship to any college and spot exhibition on the big stage alongside me. What better prize than that? Next question."

"Daily Bugle's Richard Skit. Do you believe Iron-Man is currently put in the right hand as your personal toy weapon for your new superhero hobby or are there any plans to entrust them to the proper authorities?"

Even from the screen, the rising tension was palpable. There were scandalized outcry, and many turned to shoot the guy stink eyes, but the reporter was not at all ashamed by the bold question he asked that was not at all appropriate.

Mr. Stark's eyes hardened, "Going for the big question. Ambitious one, aren't you? Well, I'm feeling generous so I'll answer this. You see -"

"Skit."

"Same thing, Mr. Skirt. You are enunciating that I've built a military-grade weapon for my own personal amusement. I would say it's insulting if I haven't heard worse. No doubt there'd be a hearing about it sooner or later so let me air it out for you. Iron-Man has never been and will never be a weapon. It's a symbol, a persona, Iron-Man is me. Not the suit. Me . I'm not a weapon. I'm a man. Smarter, richer, and more equipped than the average person, yes. But a man, nonetheless. And last I check, there is no law against having for a civilian to try putting a stop of weapons of my own making being used in the wrong hands and harming the innocent while the government is too busy concerning themselves with politics to put a stop for it.

"So this is me, finally getting my head out of my ass and finally doing something about it instead of looking the other way. Some of you call me a superhero for that, but I call it taking responsibility. Anyway, now that the questions are becoming irrelevant, I'm putting this conference into an end." Then Mr. Stark left the podium even as the crowd of journalists called out his name.

Aunt May started asking if I was joining the Stark Youth Exhibition but I didn't listen. Too busy staring off at the TV as it came to me what I can do take responsibility. To live up to Uncle Ben's name and Dad's principle.

So at school, while everyone was taking notes of chemical reactions. I was making a sort of to-do list in my upcoming debut as a superhero. I searched through articles about superheroes or vigilantes, but other than a masked man in Hell's Kitchen, Iron Man, a mysterious mutant group some dubbed as X-Men, and a few cases related to "enhanced" people, there wasn't much you can find them. The most reliable findings are the videos of the Fantastic Four's old fights, but they're getting lesser in updates since they started going for the stars… literally.

The same week, I started going out on my own. I was a nervous wreck. Fighting people, I have no problem. Not to toot my own horn, I have complete confidence in that department. Being able to save anyone is another thing. I'm messed up as it is, I'll hate myself more if I can't even save people right.

My fear turned out to be unwarranted as I saved 18 people before the clock strikes one. I would have loved nothing more than to hit the bed and fall into oblivion but it was important for me to make a list of what I learned today. So I whipped out my phone and began recording myself. It's kind of like a video diary, but I'd like to call it Peter Parker's Scientific Record , just to make it sound more official.

After all, as one wise man said, "The difference between screwing around and science… is writing it down."

Or in this case, recording it.

So from my brief experience, what I compile was thus:

Running around New York is exhausting. Barely covered my desired patrol area if not for my spider-stamina

Need a quicker way to subdue my crooks. Otherwise not only do I have to put them unconscious every time, but I'd be too busy fighting one criminal to stop another crime just a block away.

Basic medical first-aid. Never know if the crook or victim gets hurt and need one. Talk to Aunt May!

The people I saved kept running away! Like… I know they're scared and they just want to run back home, but it would totally help me if they can testify against their assailants and keep them off the street that way. Solution? No idea.

Not a priority, but a new costume might be great. Because hello?! SUPERHERO COSTUME! How cool would that be?!

Thankfully, I've got the perfect solution; WEB-SHOOTERS. Not only would that solve the first two of my problems, but it would also go well with my spider-theme powers. Never it'd be said that I don't go for the aesthetic choice. But that would need certain lab equipment I'm not equipped with.

"…no choice, I might have to break into the school, after all."

Before I contemplate more seriously in how I could get away with breaking and entering. The next day, I had a phone call from someone unexpected.

"Hello, Peter. It's me, Dr. Connors, I hope you don't mind but I'd like to share a few words with you if that's okay."

There was an awkwardly long silence where my brain short-circuited and my airway got cut off because the leading expertise of genealogy is calling in my family's phone like it's a normal thing and I'm trying not to freak out.

Hey, don't you judge me! How would you like it if you got a random call from Morgan Freeman or Ryan Reynolds for example? Don't tell me not to freak out.

"Peter?"

"Oh, yes, err, absolutely, Dr. Connors. What can I do for you?"

"I would like to ask you a question, forgive me if I'm wrong but are you by chance the son of Richard Parker?"

The shock of the question was enough to loosen my hold on the phone, but it didn't drop because of the sticky portion of my Spider Power.

"Ye, ye, yes? How do you—"

"—know? Because Richard Parker was my coworker in Oscorp."

I wasn't sure why I was surprised, I knew Dad was a scientist and I knew he worked in an important company. It just never occurred to me that it had been Oscorp. Harry's dad certainly hadn't clued me in on that.

"Wow, really? I, I didn't know much about his friends when I was young so this is a surprise for me."

"I understand, this must be quite a revelation. You can imagine how shocked I was in hearing your name during your field trip. I, I didn't know if you were truly his son but I couldn't help but check."

"No, I got it. Thank you for calling this is…" I grinned and tried not to break into laughter at the craziness of it all. "It's amazing that's all, I never expected to find a friend of Dad's. When he left, there wasn't much that he left behind concerning his work life."

"I figured. It still left me speechless thinking how abruptly he left nine years ago with all his work."

"So, after all this time, why did you call?"

Dr. Connors didn't answer immediately, seemingly gathering his thoughts as I heard him wetting his lips. "Richard wasn't just a coworker, he is a good friend as well. My best friend, in fact. We have a common goal in our research, though with different specialties and subjects, that we often time exchanged ideas through late nights.

"However, when he disappeared all those years ago… I'm ashamed to say I was angry at him for leaving none of his works behind. The work that could potentially help millions of people. So blinded by my emotion, it never occurred to me that he left behind someone much more important." Me, hung unspoken in the air, but the implication was unmistakable. My heart caught in my throat, and I tried to steady my breathing before my emotion got the better of me.

"I, I know this might be too late but I would very much like to work and connect with you, Peter. I did the liberty of checking your report and found that your eligible for an internship at Oscorp… if you're interested of cours—"

"YES!" I found myself agreeing without a second thought, "Yes, yes, absolutely. That's, er, this is a great opportunity, Sir. I won't let you down."

"Excellent. I'll contact your school, and we'll see if we can work out an arrangement. I'll be looking forward to working with you Mr. Parker."

Yeah, so, that crazy thing happened.

I spend the rest of my day in a daze like I wasn't sure whether I'm dreaming or not. Later, I had to chuckle at my act. Getting spider-power; freaky but cool. Getting to work with one of the coolest scientists alive? Yeah, I must be dreaming.

This is great news on so many levels. For one, I get to have access to cutting edge equipment for the raw materials for my webs and kept spare parts the web-shooters itself. Though I might have to go dumpster-diving, just in case Dr. Conners got suspicious of my unusual tech-hoarding. For another, I get to work with Dr. Connors! Not only is that an honor, but he might also know something about my dad. While Uncle Ben would more often tell me about him, he didn't really know much about his life as a scientist, something Connors can shed some light on.

It occurred to me later on that I never got the chance to check all my dad's belongings, it still hurts thinking about my parents and how they left me behind. So right after dinner, I took out a shoebox I kept beneath my bed that was filled with all my childhood stuff. Whether it was my first drone, photos, VHS, and toys I don't need but couldn't part. Out of all those junks, I took out a notebook filled with childish rambles and drawings, but you look through the pages and you'll find bits and pieces of formulas and calculations not meant for a 6-year-old. Dad's meticulousness made sure there were no leftovers of his papework. But what he hadn't taken into account was my younger self taking notes of my dad's calculations. Innocently pretending to be the scientist my dad was without knowing what I wrote.

Maybe it's time to understand what it is he's working on.

The excitement didn't end there for Peter Parker's life. By Monday, lunchtime at school, Harry shoved his phone at my face that I had to lean back to read the article of Stark's Youth Exhibition.

"Dude, aren't you excited? This is your chance to meet The Tony Stark!"

I would. I would be excited. But with the new vigilante activity and my grieve for Ben still aching, it was hard to get excited about anything. Harry looked bummed I wasn't as excited he imagined me to be. "Pete, come on, it's Tony Stark. You worship the guy. If you join this and get accepted, you might get a chance to breathe the same air as him."

"Technically, Harry, we all breathe the same-"

"You know what I mean, don't change the subject by talking science."

"Yeah, but what about you? Don't you hate him?"

Harry balked at the idea, "What? No! My father does. He thinks he's arrogant, smug, drunkard, and every bad word written in every language. Which makes him my personal hero."

"Right, right, but don't you want me to work in your future company or something?"

"Okay, first of all, just because I'm the son of Norman Osborn doesn't mean I'll automatically run the company. If Dad's nice enough he might give me some of his inheritance, but the company? I'll have to actually "prove" myself first, whatever that means. Second, even if the competition led you to work with Stark Industries, I'll just steal you back with the power of friendship."

I snorted out my drink and was stuck between laughing and hacking. "Oh Gee, Harry, that was so bad."

"Made you laugh though. So Peter, are you or are you not competing?"

I chewed my lips, hesitating. Any other day, I would jump at the chance, but there's so much change going on in my life, I don't know if I can take in more weight. "I don't know. Since Uncle Ben, I have a lot of responsibilities being the man in the house. Even if I do compete, I don't think I'll have the time to finish everything in time."

"What if you're in a team?" Gwen Stacy, Gwen Stacy! Gwen Stacy sidled up next to me like she did that every day. "They said one to four people can join to represent Midtown High, and I don't know about you, but I'm dying to be in that Expo."

It took me a few seconds before my brain rebooted, "Uhm, don't, don't you have your own friends you can work better with instead of me?"

"I thought about it, but I concluded that I like to work alongside you then working against you. Between Midtown's best and second-best together, there's no way we'll lose."

I couldn't help quirking up my lip, "Midtown's best, huh? Is that me or you?"

"Clearly, me," she answered confidently. Her blue eyes bore on me with a slight challenge.

"Really? Clearly?" I gave her a dubious smile, "Are you sure about that?"

She nodded with that smug yet cute smile of hers. It was a wonder why she hadn't had a boyfriend yet. How could anyone not smile at that? I'm not a heartless monster.

"So it's official, we'll be taking on the Expo together?"

I nodded, still tranced by her smile before it broke by her moving away. I blinked a couple of times, trying to remember what I did before I turned to find a smug-looking Harry. Unlike Gwen's, his smug smile is just shit-eating.

"What?"

"You just agreed to work with Gwen for the Expo."

I run that sentence in my head. Over and over until it finally broke the shred of obliviousness I had, and hitting me with e fact that'll spend four months together. Side by side. Just her and me. Together.

"I'm gonna barf."

"Not... the reaction I expect," Harry unhelpfully commented.

"Harry, listen, what are the chances I won't be embarrassing myself in front of her?"

Harry pretended to consider as he took his time munching his bread, "Considering your track record? Zero."

I groaned and I didn't care to have my face smush with the sorry-excuse-of-a-meal they called food. "Harry, you've got to join me for this group. I need you."

Harry shook his head, "And becoming a third wheeler? No chance in hell."

"How about as my wingman? Please, I can't do this alone. I messed up with her once already, I can't jeopardize this. I'm useless without you." Desperately, I used my wide, puppy dog eyes that I often use on Aunt May. She might be slightly immune to it by now, but my best friend hasn't been exposed to it yet to say no to my pleading face.

Harry sighed, and inwardly I crowed in victory, "Yes, yes, you are, Peter. Alright, fine. Just one more thing to add to piss off my dad, I suppose. As if he's not angry enough already."

"Why what happened?"

Harry's expression turned more solemn. He looked around for anyone who might be eavesdropping and beacon me closer, "You remember those spiders exhibited for the field trip? Well, one of them was stolen."

"Stolen?!" I was too in shock not to notice my pitch becoming suspiciously high.

"Yeah. It wasn't like the other spiders we had. Those three were like divas of spider experiments, something about revolutionizing the way we see genes or whatever. The point is; the spider got stolen, so now everyone's crazy about finding where it is."

"Why, why haven't they reported it or haven't it made the news already?"

Harry scoffed at the idea, "Because Dad cares about his reputation more. Having it known that Oscorp, one of the leading technological industries, was robbed isn't good for the big, strong image he's going for. So the investigation is private and hush-hushed."

"Have," I gulped, "Have they made any progress finding out who stole it?"

"An employee suspiciously disappeared on the same day, but I won't know since I'm not in the loop. I've only been hearing most of it from the grapevine. But I do know that whoever has it? My dad swore to mercilessly crush him."

I ate a spoonful of my "food" so I could contain my scream blissfully in my head.


MiniDP: I like the beginning, but you only got him to break one bone.

Me: Of course, that's where you hung up in.

MiniDP: Also, I thought you said you're going to respect all three spidermen? But as far as I can see, you rely mostly on the TASM reference

Me: Because of all the Movie!villains, Dr. Connors is the only obvious Begineer Villain for Peter! The Vulture Scenario only works after the Avengers, and the Goblin is too cool to be put as the first villain! Everyone knows he deserved the title of being his Arch-Enemy. I have grander plans for both of them. Plus, I'm not going to copy-paste the TASM, I have my very own twist plan for the Lizard.

Oh, and also because I love TASM!Flash. I have a thing for the Jock-Nerd friendship dynamic. There's no way I won't take aim for that potential between Flash and Peter. VIVA LA CHARACTER GROWTH!