Before you read this understand one thing. PLAGIERISM IS BAD. A friend of mine had an issue with that on this sight. I encourage all my readers and fellow writers to take action in stopping this. Plagiarism is a terrible thing, and if you do this I encourage you to stop. NONE LIKES A PETER PETER PUMPKIN CHEATER! Now back to the matter at hand. This is perhaps the longest chapter I've ever written. Also only two more left to wrap up this origin story :D. Exciting write (writer Joke )? When the story is done, I will continue posting stories under this title, however, like a comic book series. Continuing adventures if you will with about the same number of chapters (Written for your pleasure of course). Also, a shout out to my story follower Maximus Minimus. This chapter's for you man. Thank you for your heckling . Also to my collaborater Mellra whom without this story would not exist. Enjoy guys!

Chapter 5: The Meeting of Father and Son

For a good 5 minutes Peter and his Uncle didn't pass any remarks to each other, except for the hellos they had shared when Peter sat in the car. Peter was relieved about this, for he didn't know what he would say. All he could truly do right now was constantly check his skin to make sure he didn't Lizard-Out in front of him. The worst part was, he didn't recognize the change when he reverted back into human earlier today. How was he to know if he does it again? The gravity of the situation did not seem to hit Peter until he thought of this. Suddenly he started sweating, his nerves pumping with his blood in his head. Could I be changing without knowing? He thought. Then he looked over at his Uncle in fear, but when he saw his Uncle laugh, Peter felt embarrassed. "You seem nerves Pete. Care to share?" said his Uncle with a smile. Then Peter replied "Yeah you could say that…. I'm… just car sick is all ". Peter clenched his clothes with even more embarrassment. Car sick? That's the best he could think of? But his uncle bought it (possibly considering where they were headed) and tapped Peter's shoulder with a chuckle. "Oh, kiddo don't worry. We'll be in out of Rykers and everything will be fine. Besides, you don't want to get stains on your nice clothes do ya?". Peter looked down at the jeans he had clenched and realized something strange; they weren't ripped!

It didn't take long for Peter to go from the scrubs he was wearing into the slightly, or so he thought, torn clothes he was wearing earlier. He was actually afraid they may be ripped enough for his uncle to notic. However it seemed somehow, Conners was able to save and or stitch what was wrong with his clothes earlier. You could barely notice now that he had literally gone through a life changing transformation just an hour or so ago. Hell, even Peter almost forgot, until he realized he had feeling in his prostetic. Luckily, due to the still tender nature of his new lizard like arm, peter didn't find it very hard to keep it still in the casted prostatic. Still, part of him really wanted to enjoy this arm! It had been so long since he had two arms.. oh so long; but then he would look at his grinned uncle and realize why he could not relish in this new piece of him. The funny thing was, the transformation stuff was not the hard part for Pete to handle. He had witnessed and knew he lived in a world of amazing things, considering The Ultimate's like Ironman and Captain America, and the "hero for hire" Luke Cage existing in his world. Him becoming a Lizard-humanoid as it be, though shocking, just felt like another thing to add to his amazing world. It was the fact that he had an arm under his prostatic that was truly difficult thing for him to grasp. Peter smiled at this thought and his Uncle looked back at Peter, and he smiled as well thinking maybe this kid really does want to see his father even with as much as he denies it and they drove on.

Far from where Peter and his uncle where, in a place called Hell's Kitchen, a fight club within an abandoned boxing arena was commencing. Men were putting their lives on the line to get petty cash and in this ring anything goes. There were things in this arena, like led pipes, chains, chairs, and other toys one could use to get the upper hand; all of them at this point battered and dashed with blood. The two men fighting right at this point showed there strength, for both were still standing. One man was fair in bulk, slow and powerful. He dripped huge amounts of sweat and had many bruises and cuts. It was obvious he was seasoned fighter. Bruises collected mainly around his ribs, which seemed to be caused by the led pipe his opponent was dropping to his feet; but his focus didn't even falter to his injury. The opponent , a thin, quick, and vicious looking individual with red beat curly hair, seemed to look at the man with a smile as if to say "you are strong…good". The match itself seemed 50/50 at this point, for the lanky one had surprised them all with his savage nature and survival from the previous beatings. He just never seemed to stay down. Some even said they saw him smile and laugh during his beating, which seemed to cost him a few fingers. Still, cheers where being spat out for the big guy since most people put their money on him in the beginning.

Right outside all this madness, a man toward on a throne-like chair on the bed of a truck. The shadows seemed to clasp around him, but whatever light did touch his exterior showed that his skin was a dark grey and perhaps even gritty texture. This man was the host of these fights. He ran most of this area with an iron fist, or rather one made of stone. This man was likely named Tombstone, and right now he was witnessing a fight in which the winner would have the duty of doing something; something that a "superior" had asked him to get done. In his line of work there were few that toward over him, but the one he had the call from pulled many strings for him in the past and Tombstone knew if he got the right guy for the job, he himself would be rich and could perhaps move into a "better" line of work. However, who would be his lacky? These final moments of the match would decide

As the two combatants locked eyes, the big one ran with a blinding charge. The small one smiled and like a breeze of air, moved away from the path of the biggen. He then, seeing his chance, picked up a nearby plank with multiple nails in it and smacked the back of the big man. The man screamed in agony and swung his fist back with a forceful motion but missed and was then greeted with a pipe to the face. The man then fell back and the nailed plank dug deeper into his back as the crowds noise turned into boos of frustration and little cheers. Blinded and helpless, the last thing the man saw was a scrawny silhouette bludger his face with a pipe. He then felt hot liquid on his face, and his life was no more. On the other side, the red head just kept hitting this man even as the blood splattered everywhere. If it weren't for a ref hand and a bell, he would have kept going. "Congratulations to the new champion!" said the ref. Boos followed along with a witting grin from the champion.

The match ended as Tombstone had thought; savagery always won in these arenas. He knew that, this might be a rough decision to hire an obvious mad man due to the stakes that where at hand if things went awry, but he also knew something else; money beats savagery any day. As Tombstone stepped from the shadows, the crowd dispersed and roars and frustrations dimmed to grumbles and money changing. His six foot figure brought great intimidation, but as he walked toward the red head there was no reciprocating fear from him. It was as if this boy was not afraid of anything. Tombstone smiled as he faced the boy. "nice job in there kid. How's you say wes have a little chat. You got a name?" he asked. The boys eyes met him like a flash of light as if to know something good was going to happen. "Cletus. Cletus Kasady" He said . The two men shook hands and it was obvious a deal was about to be sparked.

Going over the bridge to Rykers Island was never pleasant, especially not at seven in the evening. The hulking prison, built for threats most considered superhuman. By request of his father, he was put here. No one knew why, not even his Uncle.

As they traveled over the ocean, Peter looked down and felt a sudden ergence to dive in to the waters bellow. To him it looked so sparkling, peaceful even. He just wanted to submerge himself in it. He could just taste the fish and salt with his toung….

"Need some fresh air Pete?" said his uncle, interrupting Peter's trance. He didn't even notice he had rolled the window down and something stranger…. A thick piece of meat seemed to be in his mouth. He opened it to find his tongue was 12 inches long! He slurped it in, without any passing car or his uncle noticing. It was the flux he had been so worried about. Looks like My other half likes the water Thought Peter. He then realizing he had been asked a question, and went "mhmm" and rolled up his window quick. He felt perhaps, if he pulled himself away from the delicious sea he could possibly get rid of this. He just needed to focus…. Focus.

Suddenly the thick meat feeling was gone. Did he just learn the trick to controlling his transformation? He wasn't sure, but he was glad to have something to protect him from being a freak. He opened his mouth and everything was good. His Uncle looked at him with another chuckle, and then they had suddenly stopped. They were now in front of two guards in full gear guarding the entrance gate to Rykers Island.

It took a good 15 minutes to get through this security. Uncle Ben waited in the car for he was encouraging that "Your Dad just wants to see you. He's seen me enough". Reluctantly, Peter went on his own. Usually, it took longer but his father had "good days" unlike some of the other inmate here. Today, apparently his father was in this "sane mode" of his that made his visits almost like normal. When Peter had gotten to the liaison for his father, he was informed that Peter's dad "suffered from a scitzofranic disorder that causes him to argue with himself and perhaps even act violent. It is very much like a split personality problem that has progressed over time. However, today it seems his sane side is in control". Peter gritted his teeth at this news. He was a bit upset his Uncle was mum about this. It wasn't a pleasant thing to know you are the genetic decedent of a lunatic. Still, Peter wasn't perfect either, considering his new predicament of genetics. Also, his lizard side seemed to be mending. The environment of silence and cool metallic surfaces seemed to keep his lizard side calm for some reason.

After "powerful door 1 and 2" as Peter calls them , opened he was finally brought to a room that shared the same look as the others, with see through plexi-glass walls looking into the room. However unlike the halls of six he had scene, this only had two and only one was occupied. The liaison then said "If you need anything, just holler. We can hear everything in this room so don't worry; you won't really be alone". Peter shook his head, nerves of course that he was being left alone with his murderous father, but strong for he knew that perhaps this could be a good thing.

Peter's father had his back to his son. Two minutes of silence passed, until Peter said something.

"hi Dad.. uh.. happy birthday" he said, with a bit of a not in his throat.

Peter's father finally turned. Like a curious dog, he turned around like a treat was brought to him. He then got up from his seat and stood face to face with his son, smiling a half happy/ half sad smile. "You came" he said in a wincing voice.

"yeah I did" replied Peter grimicly.

The likeness of these two was almost uncanny, if it weren't for Peter's "Prostatic" and his father's scraggly beard and height.

Mr. Parker then replied, with a tear running down his cheek "You look so grown up, son.,, Hows the uh…."

"it's fine its fine" said Peter, griping his fake prostatic.

"I'm sorry… I always forget that its not easy for.." said his dad before he was interrupted

"can you please change the subject? Dad?" hurled Peter.

His father swallowed hard. "I'm sorry… How's school?" he asked

"Fine. Top of my class." Said Peter

His father grew another smile "That's my boy." Said his Dad.

Suddenly, Peter felt a a twinge of anger from this comment. "Don't say that to me!" screamed Peter.

"What? I just said.."

"No! Don't say that to me! I'm not your boy. I may be your son but I am not your BOY! You lost that chance when you cost me a mother and an Arm! "

Suddenly peter realized his grip on his prostetic was causing it to crack, and his lizard arm was squirming from the anger inside. He pulled his hand off it quickly and began to pace, trying to calm down the beast that now resided in him.

His father began to cry again "Son if only you knew…"

"Knew what dad?! Please PLEASE! Enlighten me" said Peter sarcastic

"I can't."

"Why not"

"Because!" screamed his father. "The very mention of Mary could.."

Suddenly his Father began to convulse. He then fell over and hopped up all hyper and chipper the next. Peter felt horror grip his senses in a sudden fashion as the man he was talking to seemed to turn into some else. He suddenly began to hop around the room, clawing and screaming a joyful laugh. He then began to sing "Mary, Mary, quiet contrary how does your blood flow?! With glass shells and copper nails and hot led all in a row!". Suddenly security from all over came flooding into the room to contain his maniac father and he was rushed out of the room. When this occurred Peter's vision become soaked in water. Being mad at the man he called father was one thing but this…. This he would not wish on any man.

As Peter stormed to the car, he felt a heat in his stomach… a rage… an erge to let the beast go. And he wanted to. After what he witnessed oh… he wanted to.

As he sat in the car his uncle rightly asks "You okay sport".

Peter just looked out the window and said "drive".

His uncle did not question and did just that

For a good 30 Minutes, they said nothing. Peter just glared out the window and stared at the delicious ocean, wishing to let his other side free, test his limits, and submerge himself in the salty vail.

Suddenly, His Uncle Broke the silence when they got into queens, pulling over to a sudden stop, which got Peter to break his trance.

"Okay kid, what's up with you?" He said. "I understand that must have been hard but, I'm hear if you need to…"

"I don't want to talk" Interrupted Peter.

"Come on Pete. You can give me something. I'm here for you…."

"yeah, well YOU don't have a sycotic father!" said peter

"He's my brother! Stop thinking you're the only one effected by this!"

"were you missing an arm and a mother to go with it!?" screamed back Peter

Uncle Ben looked back confused. "What do you mean 'were missing'?" he replied

Peter bit his lip and felt the squirming of his Lizard arm. It was almost impossible to control it now. He was slipping up. He needed to set it free and get rid of uncle Ben… Fast. With a fit of anger, real and fake he got out of the car and slammed it saying "I'll walk the rest of the way. I've had it with this" he said.

Uncle Ben's brows went down in anger and worry. "That's a good 2 hour walk from here! What am I suppose to tell your Aunt…"

"I'll take a cab, Dammit just let me be!"

Uncle Ben took a deep swallow and a long look a Peter. He knew the boy was distrat but… he had always been able to help him. Now he couldn't, and with a heavy heart he drove off, leaving Peter Alone under the Bridge.

As Uncle Ben drove away, Peter walked into the shadows of the under-bridge caused by the light of the rising moon. Not even a drunk seemed to be hanging here tonight, and with that advantage, Peter slowly removed the prostetic from his lizard arm and set it down, along with a jacket he had been wearing. Hopefully no one will take it it.. He thought. He then focused on releasing the beast, and as he did just that, his vision went yellow, his tale grew back, and his skin shed to dust to reveal that that could be described as only One thing: A Lizard Man. He then dove into the salty vail of water with ease. Little did he notice the tattered vehicle that went into the same direction as his house.