A/N: Hello again, I am back with another chapter. Ok, so some of the science described in this story may or may not be true. I just sort of guessed using my prior knowledge. And as a 13 year old, that's not much. So, if someone finds something wrong in previous or future chapters, they are welcomed to notify me. So, I think that's all I have to say, except for to be expecting a new chapter every two-three days. Thanks, and enjoy! :)
~Sophie

Peter stared at it as it slowly climbed up the side of the cage. Those eight legs, one after another moving in a graceful pattern along the vertical surface. An equal number of eyes looked back at him, and Peter felt as if it was staring into his soul. He shivered.

Peter really didn't know why he was afraid of spiders, they just kinda creeped him out. Really, they were very interesting. Just, not when they were on his skin. Peter continued to observe the spider in its cage. The cage was in the middle of his desk, and was about a cubic foot in size. It was made of clear plastic, all except a metal latch on top that connected to a lid. And that, of course, was so that one could insert and remove the specimen.

He had received it yesterday. As did everyone else. Apparently, the spiders had already been injected with the retrovirus, which had been (so generously as Ms. Robinson put it) done by Oscorp. She said that before we work on extracting and transplanting genes, that not only would the spider need a little time for the retrovirus to visit all its cells, but she said we should observe the spider before and after the procedure.

Peter continued to watch the spider spinning its web, and catching insects that, to their infortune, had flown into grasp of the spider. The delicate patterns of the light, sparkling silk shone in the waning sunlight that was coming in through Peter's window. The spider so masterfully wove the web. Peter took a note. Aunt May then called form downstairs.

"Peter! Dinner's ready!"

"Gotcha Aunt May!" Peter replied, dropping his pen on the desk and leaping out of his room. Boy he was hungry.

/

Dinner was over, and Peter was satisfied, the taste of garlic bread still dominant in his mouth. Peter was silently humming tunes and walked into his room, intent on finishing the homework that was not yet completed. Sitting down at his desk, he picked up a pencil. Out of curiosity, he glanced at the spider cage. Peter was wondering what progress it had made on its web. He looked inside the cage. And looked. And looked. There was no spider.

Peter started to panic. Because, here was his dilemma: he had a potentially dangerous spider roaming around his room, and possibly his entire house. If that was the case, it was going to be impossible to find it. Oh god. Peter tried to calm himself down by breathing at a steady pace. His breathing got ragged. But steady again. Ok Peter, He told himself. It's not that bad. Spiders don't bite impulsively, only when aggravated. So, most likely it won't hurt anyone. Peter started to pace his room. He just decided to finish his homework and go to bed. There was no harm done. After about an hour Peter was climbing into bed, forgetting about the spider. The moon was bright that night. It shone through the curtains, a pearl, melting out of the sky. The curtains moved softly with the wind that traveled through his open window. Peter turned and fell asleep on his side, to the sound of the wind. What he did not notice, however, was the spider hanging down from the ceiling, slowly making its way down on a silvery web of thread. Right above his bed.

/

Peter jolted awake and sat up. He felt a direct pain in the middle of the back of his neck. Peter looked at his clock. Three thirty. He laid down again. The pain on his neck was slowly fading, but still noticeable. Weird, Peter thought. Must have been a very persistent mosquito or something. Peter fell asleep, once again, thoughts traveling to the land of dreams.

/

He was walking through a forest. Well, sort of. The ground was mossy, but instead of green, it was white. As were the trees. From the trees hung apples of gold and silver. Peter's mouth started to water. He began to climb up the trunk as if his hands had glue on them, or the tree was covered in sap. He reached for an apple. As his arm ascended, the leaves began to grow darker, turning grey end eventually black. By the time his hand was inches away from the glowing fruit, it began to transform. The golden skin started turning black, and shriveling up into a crisp. From that, eight legs began to take shape and before Peter was not a delicious golden apple but a giant, jet black spider hanging from the tree. The leaves and other fruits began to transform, and crawled toward him. Peter made a means to escape, but to no avail. He looked down at his body and saw that his hands and feet were glued to the trunk by silvery webs. The spiders started crawling toward him, whispering in raspy hissing tones. The tones began to sound more human like by the second. They were saying his name as the spiders engulfed him and began to masterfully weave their webs around his body. They still called to him. Peter, Peter, the voice began to become more and more recognizable, as Peter began to drift out of his dream and this spidery world. His room began to come into focus, and so did his aunt's voice.

"Peter. Peter! You have to get up!" She was now shaking him awake.

"Wha, what?" He was confused. He usually would have noticed his lights being turned on by his aunt. He is usually quite a light sleeper.

"Peter! You slept through your alarm and I've called up the stairs numerous times! If you don't get to school in twenty minutes you are going to be late!" She yelled, and Peter's eyes snapped open.

"Oh my god! Aunt May I gotta get ready!" Peter pushed himself passed her and grabbed the first two wearable things off of his floor and rushed to take off his pajamas and toss on his clothes. As he was doing this he wondered. Why did I sleep through my alarm? That never happens… Peter ran to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, washed his face, and put in his contact lenses. Wait. Peter didn't have his contact lenses in before. And he got to the bathroom without tripping and dying. And, Peter looked around the bathroom. He could see everything perfectly. If not better. What the hell? Peter's contacts still remained on his fingertips. He slowly placed them back in the package. Peter looked at himself in the mirror. He sure didn't look any different. If not a little tired. Well then. At least this day took a turn for the better. Peter wore a confused look on his face as he walked down the stairs. He looked at every picture, decoration, and furnishing. It was like he could see everything. Notice every detail. Peter even noticed the specific number of lint particles on the back of the sofa.

"Peter, why are you looking at everything like that? It's like you've never seen a couch in your life…" Aunt May asked from the kitchen, where she laid down a bowl of oatmeal on the table. Peter continued to look at everything in wonder as he walked into the kitchen.

"What was that Aunt May?"

"Oh, never mind." She said and turned back to the stove to continue cleaning it. Peter poured milk and sugar into his hot cereal and began to eat it. That's when he looked at the clock. Peter immediately leapt up, leaving a lonely bowl of porridge on the kitchen table to fend for itself.

"Sorry Aunt May, I gotta run." Peter kissed his aunt on the cheek and grabbed his stuff. . Throwing on his jacket he ran out the door, grabbing his skateboard on the way. Peter had been practicing after school, and now was able to ride it. Thank goodness, or on days like today Peter wouldn't be able to make it. He threw his board down on the sidewalk and jumped on. Peter noticed that he was able to navigate with extreme accuracy. He could even avoid squishing a wandering ant on the sidewalk. Peter pushed harder with his right foot. He was now going at speeds that he had never skated at, and was still able to steer clear of bugs on the sidewalk. He zoomed passed his neighbors houses, faster than most cars. As each house zoomed by, Peter waved to any neighbors that were out this early reading the newspaper on their front porches. The grass was blown by the winds that Peter's skateboard caused. Before he knew it, Peter was at midtown high. Usually it would take at least ten to fifteen minutes to walk to school. Peter skateboarded there in less than a minute. Peter was about to congratulate himself on his personal feat, noticing that he was barely out of breath, when the bell rang. Peter ran inside.

/

"Mr. Parker, why is it every time?" Mr. Garret asked as Peter stepped into the room. The bell had rung a second earlier.

"Well, to be fair Mr. Garret, I did get here before the bell." Peter tried to reason, but as he saw the expression on his teachers face, he talked quieter.

"The late bell, Mr. Parker. Now please take a seat." Peter started toward his usual seat at the back of the class, but noticed that it was no longer empty. There, in that seat, sat Mary Jane Watson. Peter turned back to Mr. Garret, who was starting the lesson.

"Um, excuse me, sir? There are no seats remaining." Peter motioned to the class which, in fact, with MJ's presence, was completely full. Peter still wasn't sure why she was here.

"Oh yes, I forgot to mention. Class, we have a new student." He really didn't need to say this, for everyone was already staring at her. "This is Mary Jane, and she got moved up from the common core classes. And as for you, Mr. Parker, you will need to retrieve the desk and chair in the back of the room that is often used for TA work. Now, back to the growth and structure of the Latin language…" Peter found the empty desk and chair in the back of the classroom and moved them with little effort. That's strange. Peter placed it behind MJ's new desk, so that he could talk to her.

"Hey, MJ!" Peter whisper yelled. MJ turned around and donned a small smile.

"Hi Peter. Sorry for taking your spot. I figured that everyone was here and I thought that this spot was for me…" She looked a bit guilty.

"That's ok. So, I heard you moved up? Usually someone doesn't change classes after the school year starts." Peter looked at MJ with a confused look.

"Well, my teacher said that I was doing really well, and that the work seemed too easy for me. Which, it was. So he moved me. He also said that he wanted to get me away from all of the idiots." She giggled when she said that and Peter snickered.

"No kidding. Well, welcome to the class, honestly I don't think we've really done anything. Well, no, we have done a lot, it's just that, it seems as if Mr. Garret teaches a different subject each day." MJ giggled at that. "Hey, what teacher did you have previously?" Mary Jane opened her mouth to answer, but Mr. Garret interrupted.

"Ms. Watson, this is your first warning. Turn around. There is no talking when the teacher is teaching. All of you kids should have learnt that in the second grade." Mr. Garret turned back to the board. MJ turned around in her seat, only to turn around again and look at Peter.

"I'll talk to you more at lunch. Save me a seat?" She asked. Peter nodded with a smile. She turned around and listened to the teacher's lectures. Peter just thought to himself. He had forgotten about that side of MJ. The fun, easy to talk to, side of MJ. He remembered when they were in middle school. They used to hang out all the time. Maybe things could turn around to how they used to be…