With Great Power.
Fifteen year old Peter Benjamin Parker is a high schooler and a science enthusiast. He's friends with rich boy Harry Osborn and fellow intelligent student Gwen Stacy. During a trip to Dr. Curt Connors' OsCorp laboratory, Pete is bitten by a stray spider. He doesn't think much of it, though he does feel woozy. His aunt and uncle, whom he lives with and was raised by since he was four, can't afford to pay hospital bills if the thing was poisonous, so he keeps the event to himself.
This is my rendition of Spider-Man's emergence, taking elements from all media types as well as original twists to create something new.
Forest Hills, Queens, New York.
It was summertime.
When Peter was young, breaks between school years seemed to last decades. Now that he was older, they never lasted long enough. In fact, it was only three months, more or less. He'd be a junior once the month of September rolled around and the new classes began. To be honest, in Peter's mind, nothing was really different now in high school than things were in elementary or middle school. He smiled wryly, dry and humorless. He was still the teacher's pet, a prime target for bigger, more charismatic guys like Eugene 'Flash' Thompson, a blond guy with no sense of kindness. Peter didn't know Flash's personal life or anything but he had to wonder what it was that made him so eager to instigate stuff. Peter himself had never really fought back against Flash or anyone like him. There wasn't much use in it.
Other details that hadn't changed was Peter's brightness in academia. He aced all his classes, gaining the attention of the resident wealthy kid, Harry Osborn. That was in eighth grade, they were friends to this day. Peter wasn't dumb, of course, he knew a great chunk of Harry's interest in him was based in how well Peter's grades were. He appreciated the company nonetheless. Harry wasn't a bad person, there'd been times he'd stuck up for Peter against bullies. That was mostly in freshman year. It didn't happen as often afterward, they had different schedules. They studied together when they could; it wasn't like they were the sole people in their respective circles. Harry went out of his way to mix with the classy, well-to-do students, who the teachers liked to boast were going places. Peter...he had acquaintances, however, really the one person he could say he was close with aside from Harry was a girl named Gwen Stacy.
Gwen was the daughter of a police captain. She knew how to defend herself, her father had seen to that. She didn't seem like someone who could hold her own at first glance. She was short, fair-haired, teal-eyed and mousy. Upon getting to know her, she was fairly anxious about herself, she too had trouble making friends. It wasn't that she was an outcast, that was Peter. Girls usually had an easier time with being smart. He was pretty certain. Oh, forget it, he was a fifteen year old boy, he had no idea what a girl's life was like. He tried to support Gwen regardless. By the fact that they were still friends he guessed he did an alright job. They'd been friends since second grade when they shared the same class. He'd met her family, her firm father, exuberant mother, two athletic brothers, one older, one younger, and pony-obsessed little sister.
Come to think of it, Peter never met Harry's parents. It was obvious who his dad was, the famous Norman Osborn of OsCorp, which was centered in New York City. Some kids in school treated Harry like a celebrity because of this. Peter just saw him as a dude. Harry didn't talk of his mom much, so Peter didn't ask. Besides, he knew from Wikipedia she had died years ago. He remembered wincing a little when he read that. It must suck to be well-known across the globe. No information was private unless it was paid for to be such. A limousine dropped off and picked up Harry from school every day without fail. Everyone was accustomed to it. It was the new students who made a big deal out of it, to Harry's...amusement, annoyance? Peter couldn't tell anymore. He hated to admit that they might be drifting apart a bit. If he had more willpower he'd do more about it, but the way things were, it would get worse with time. Now he was being paranoid.
His Uncle Ben would tell him to get up off his behind and do something. About Gwen and her lack of confidence, tell her she was great and deserved to think better of herself, about Harry and the slow distancing. Uncle Ben was a go-getter type. He tended to tell Peter not to worry about people who made fun of him today, he'd be their boss tomorrow. Peter counted on it, actually. He just wanted life to be better now. Not that it was terrible. He had guardians who loved him, Ben and Aunt May, who'd been taking care of him since he was a four year old and his parents abandoned him with them. They'd died in a plane crash weeks later. Peter hesitated to be spiteful of their memory, from what faint memories he could recall they cared about him when they were still around. Then again...he shook his head, closing his algebra folder, which he'd been staring intently at. Thinking. Of his life, of all kinds of things.
He was setting up his school supplies out of boredom. A month early, albeit. Oh well. He sat on the edge of his bed, it was morning. Eleven a.m., his brown hair was astray and his vision was blurry, he hadn't put on his glasses. He'd always had poor eyesight. He attempted wearing contacts a few times and he found it near impossible to put them on. Of course, he was a sensitive kid, he hadn't tried contacts in years, maybe now he could stand them. He threw that to the back of his mind as a Thing He Needed to Try Before Summer Ended. He stood and walked into the upstairs hallway to the bathroom, finding it unoccupied. Brown irises stared back at him in the mirror. He was a plain guy. He didn't fool himself with delusions that he was what his aunt would call a—uh, a stud muffin. His uncle and aunt were just as big of dorks as he was.
They always had a rough time with finances but they got by. He offered to get a job but his uncle said they were fine, what Peter needed to do was focus on his schooling. Peter had no trouble doing that. He wanted to do more for the only family he had, was all. Too bad, Ben told him definitively, You're gonna be a renowned scientist and you are going to like it, young man! Peter snorted at the memory. Ben's faith in him was unwavering. Peter hoped he could live up to it. He ought to shower and change out of his bed clothes. That was what he did, quickly, a little klutzy as he slipped in to his trousers. He headed downstairs to where his relatives probably waited for him. No, wait, Ben was off to work, already. May had a part-time job as a waitress at a diner. She would be here. His shoes were next to the door, he could see them from where he settled on the living room couch.
With nothing to do and able to hear his aunt doing something in the kitchen, he thought more about his life.
This afternoon would prove eventful if things went alright. A summer program for scientifically-inclined, gifted students from across New York City, including Peter and Gwen, would be attending a demonstration held by the esteemed doctor, Curt Connors, in his laboratory at OsCorp. The OsCorp, the main building where its biggest projects were worked on. It was a huge opportunity for Peter. He was excited. He knew Gwen was, as well, she talked about it a lot last time they saw each other. Peter didn't mind, he liked listening to her. She was a persuasive person when she wanted to be. Peter was painfully shy himself at times, he understood why she was afraid to speak out. That didn't mean he wasn't aware of how it was a bad trait to have. He wished he could tell her that without coming off as pushy.
What did he expect her to do, anyway? Suddenly become another person? Yeah, right. She couldn't help being the way she was, no more than Peter could help being a loser socially. For what he knew, he was exaggerating it all. Life wasn't that bad. They could live being who they were and be happy.
He sighed.
Deep dwelling for a fifteen year old. He was getting a headache.
"Peter," May called from the kitchen, "Don't you have that thing to go to today?"
"I do," he called back, moving to the kitchen so he wouldn't have to yell, "It's not for a while yet."
It was at two p.m., it was twelve thirty noon now. He had time.
"Oh, well, just making sure," his Aunt May was a dark-haired middle-aged woman with silver streaks weaving through her locks. She was aging gracefully, "Don't want you to be late. This must be amazing for you."
"It is." He agreed.
What better way to end the summer, he wondered, than meeting someone who might just be his employer in a few years if he played his cards right?
With that possibility festering in his brain, not in bad way, in an optimistic manner, he went back over to the couch and watched T.V.
His aunt drove him to the school where the bus to OsCorp Laboratories was waiting.
On the way there Peter stared out the passenger side window.
He was often lost in his own thoughts; if he spoke half the thoughts that went on in his brain he'd be even more unpopular. He was a far more witty person than he let show, at least when it came to insults. It used to get him in trouble with Flash when they were younger until Peter learned when to keep his mouth shut. When push came to shove, and it usually did with Flash, Peter wasn't about to dig his own grave deeper than it was by itself. He wouldn't be seeing Flash today, fortunately. The jerk wasn't clever enough to have been invited to this sort of thing. A touch of bitterness came with that fact, Peter realized. It didn't matter how well Flash Thompson did in school. He would always be a step ahead of 'Puny' Parker. Flash came up with that nickname himself. Didn't it sound like a stereotypical thing for a bully to call his victim? Must have taken all night to—
"We're here, Brooder." Aunt May informed and then teased, "You've been very quiet."
"Oh, yeah," because Peter always opened up when he was with his surrogate parents, all day he'd been acting like he did at school, no wonder she was concerned, "Sorry. Just thinking of all the stuff I'll...learn."
She eyed him.
He knew that look.
"I'm fine." He assured.
She nodded, "I hope you have a fun time."
"I will." He promised.
He exited the car, waving goodbye to his aunt, then entered the school. There was Gwen, standing waiting next to a member of the school staff in the bus pickup area.
Boarding the bus wasn't as hard as it normally was. It was a sleek, good-looking bus compared to the clunky ones which transported Peter to and from school every day. Got to make a good impression on whoever would see the thing, he supposed. They would be going to OsCorp. His best guess was that the staff there wouldn't want to walk in to work with the sight of an average school bus parked out front. Someday, Pete, he said to himself, You'll have the privilege to be that snooty. He practically looked forward to it.
He and Gwen sat next to one another near the back of the bus.
"How are you?" Gwen asked him.
He smiled at her, "I'm awesome. Psyched."
"Me, too."
This was an awesome fic idea I had that won't ever be finished, I felt it was worth posting, though.