Disclaimer: I only own the plot and my OCs. Anything you recognize as not mine belongs to Marvel Studios, Disney, and/or their otherwise respective owners.

Author's Notes: ...Hi! I know, long time, no see? Lol, please don't be mad at me. I've meant to update this story so many times over the past year and a half, but I kept on getting stuck. Then I decided to give it another shot and this chapter came out! ^-^

Anyways, as as always, I hope you enjoy. Until next chapter (because there will be more, as this update shows, I just don't know when),

~TGWSI/Selene Borealis

~to be forged~

~children of the damned~

~chapter 2~

Three weeks later, Peter stood in his room, looking at himself in the mirror. Next to him stood Aunt May, fretting over him, running her hands through his hair. "Are you sure you want to go, bambino?" she asked, her lips pressed into a hard line. "The doctors said you wouldn't have to go back for another week sti – "

"I want to go," he said, cutting her off. Through their reflections, he gave her a smile. "I'm fine, Aunt May, I promise. I'm all better now."

"You don't just get 'all better' from a stroke, sweetie. I don't care how mild it was," she quipped. But, patting his cheek, she let out a huff and relented. "But, alright. Breakfast's downstairs when you're ready for it, and Ben'll pick you up after school today. Okay?"

"Okay," he repeated. "Larb you, May."

"Larb you too, Peter."

He waited until his aunt had walked downstairs to do anything, watching her go. With a sigh, his smile fell. He turned back to look at himself in the mirror, lifting up his fringe with a hand to look at the color of the roots of his hair. They were brown-auburn, red.

Another sigh.

Grabbing his backpack, he went through his mental checklist to make sure he had everything: folders, binders, textbooks, the new book they'd been assigned to read for his English class – The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis, and the light homework he'd been given by his teacher. His mouth quirked, seeing the last two, but he didn't smile again.

According to the doctors, his collapse at Stanford had been caused by an ischemic stroke, immediately followed by a seizure. During his week in the hospital, they'd said they had never seen anyone light up their tests like he had before; at least, no one of or around his age. They'd done a battery of them looking for the cause or, if nothing else, maybe a reason why he had survived fairly symptom-free considering the complexities of what had happened. They hadn't found anything.

But, that was okay.

Peter knew better.

Realizing at the last second he'd forgotten his necklace, he looked around the room for it. Seeing it on the nightstand, he moved to grab it, then stopped. Slowly, he lifted up his hand.

In his palm, a ball of...something glowed red, as his vision was faintly tinged with the same color. The necklace glowed red as well as it was lifted up, up into the air and floated over to him. Snatching it out of the air, he put the necklace, now holding only his parents' wedding rings, around his neck and slung the straps of his backpack over his shoulders.

Wildly, he glanced around his room and especially towards his window to make sure nobody had seen what he was doing. Once he was safely assured that they hadn't, he nodded to himself and went downstairs.

He made sure to clean up the breakfast May had made him before he left: the bowl of cereal glowed red as its contents were poured down the sink, the faucet and garbage disposal turning on so no trace of the processed grain and milk would remain. The glass of orange juice, he chugged before rinsing it out by hand and putting it into the right side of the sink next to the bowl and spoon. As for the banana, he took it along with a few protein bars from the pantry to eat along the way, leaving his home for school.

Without the hindrance of poor eyesight, even with glasses that were up-to-date, the world was truly beautiful. It held a vibrant amount of colors: blues, greens, yellows, and reds most of all. He focused on the intensity of those as he made his way towards his school, turning on the part of his brain that showed him just how loud San Francisco really was. The same part of his brain which had so suddenly formed three weeks ago.

Gotta get to work gotta get work shit I'm gonna be late aren't I

Can't believe this traffic sucks

One dream, one soul, one prize, one goal, one golden glance of what should be

Blue sky chair mommy love love love mommy

What to eat when I get to work Jan's lunch Simon's lunch or –

You know darn well, when you cast your spell you will get your way, when you hypnotize with your eyes, a heart of stone can turn to –

It was a little bit better now, hearing the cacophony inside his mind. Back right after the collapse, before he'd figured out how to turn it off when he wanted to, it had been awful. The doctors had thought he'd been having sensory overloads...which, well, he'd supposed he had, and he still did if he let it go on for too long.

They just weren't the kind of sensory overloads the doctors had been thinking of.

At his school, he went to the principal's office first to turn in his collection of doctors' paperwork. The secretaries smiled at him, but their loud thoughts showed they were not ones entirely of sympathy.

Poor boy he looks so tired look at those bags under his eyes

Peter Parker kid who had the stroke and seizure Jesus this kid has shitty luck

"Mr. Parker, how nice it is to see you! We weren't expecting you back for another week!"

Peter flashed them a smile. "I got better really fast," he said, putting his stack of papers on their desk. "And I wanted to come back as soon as I could. I missed learning stuff."

...No, that wasn't quite right. He had learned a lot in the past three weeks, just not the kind of stuff you could or would ever be able to learn at a school, or so he hoped. Things like how to ignore the incessant voices of peoples' thoughts, or how to control the energy manipulation which came from his hands and glowed in his eyes, the same energy manipulation which he figured – knew, just wouldn't admit – was making his hair change colors. The magic.

(You are the Scarlet Witch, darling.)

"Well, you'll certainly be able to do that here," one of the secretaries said, chuckling, stirring him out of his reverie. "It's great to see you doing so well. Have a nice day, Mr. Parker."

Hope he doesn't collapse again that would be bad

"And don't be afraid to come down to the nurse's office you need to, hon," added the other. "First days back can be rather rough."

Poor thing still looks like he could snap like a twig

Peter felt his smile become plastered. "I will, don't worry. Have a nice day!"

As he walked down the hallways of the school, he made sure to turn off the telepathic part of his brain again. It was one thing to hear strangers' thoughts on the streets and the secretaries'; he had no interests in listening to the other students' monologues about their schoolwork, or gossip, or most of all, him.

When he got to his homeroom, it was not lost on him how all of his classmates' conversations immediately died down. They regarded him with wide-eyed stares and pale faces as he walked over to their teacher's desk, his face flushing.

"Welcome back, Peter! I wasn't expecting to see you so soon," his teacher commented happily.

"Good to be back," he mumbled. "Here's my homework."

He handed her what she needed and walked over to his desk. There was still an unearthly silence in the room. Curious, he allowed a small trickle of voices to enter his mind, even though he knew what the result would be after what he'd just said.

Look at Peter the kid that almost died

Peter's back after his stroke

Ms. Lloyd had us make cards for him I wonder if he got them

Peter looks so thin and pale I wonder if he's –

He turned off the voices again.

Sitting down next to Michelle just as the bell rang, he gave her an incline of his head. "Hey, Michelle."

The girl barely looked up from her notebook. "Hey, Peter."

A part of him was surprised that was all she said, and another part him of was surprised that she hadn't called him "loser,"but the thought didn't bother him for long. Their teacher stood up from her chair with a clap of her hands, greeting the class as a whole for the day, and soon they were deep into the lesson.

Peter took notes diligently. He knew a lot of kids, or at least some, would have simply read the teacher's mind or their classmates' during a test if they had the abilities that he did now, not even bothering to pay attention in class, but he wasn't that kind of person. Besides, the topics they were covering were interesting: the history of life on Earth and Darwin's theory of evolution. Of course, there was a bit of astronomy thrown in too with what they knew now after the events of 2012, mostly concerning how different life might look on other planets or the planets themselves, like Asgard.

Apparently, the home world of the Norse gods was flat. He didn't know how that could possibly work.

At the end of the period, he collected his things and headed off to his next class. The rest of his morning passed by much of the same way, with the other students ogling him and the teachers continuing on with their lessons as if he had never left. It held a sense of normalcy, despite the obvious, and he was glad to sink into it. Things hadn't been that way for weeks now.

Everything changed, however, at lunch.

Peter walked into the cafeteria of the school and got into the lunch line, just as he had always done up until three weeks ago. They were serving chicken quesadillas today with a Mexican side salad, which basically consisted of corn and diced cucumbers, onions, tomatoes, and cilantro with black beans and a dressing of some sort. He grabbed both of those things as well as an orange and a bottle of chocolate milk before he went through the checkout and walked over to where his typical table was. Before, he'd been the only person to ever sit at this table; like he'd said, he hadn't needed friends. And he didn't need them now, most of all now, lest someone found out about his powers.

That was something that couldn't ever, ever happen.

Yet, as he got closer to his table, he paused briefly in his step, because there was another person sitting there. Even with her back turned to him, he could tell that it was Michelle by her curly brown hair.

Peter debated for a moment on what to do.

Deciding that it was best to just keep up with his routine, he steeled his breath and finished his journey over to the table. "Hey, Michelle," he said, his voice soft. "Mind if I sit here?" Maybe this was a new thing for her, after all; maybe she'd decided to take over his table while he'd been gone. He didn't know, and he didn't want to intrude on her mental privacy to find out.

Still, she didn't barely look at him. She was once again poured over her notebook, so he couldn't see what was so important about it as she concentrated on it and absentmindedly picked at her packed lunch. "This is your table, isn't it?" she asked him.

Taking that as a positive response, he sat down.

The two of them didn't talk for most of the period. Michelle did her own thing, and Peter just focused on eating his lunch and reading The Magician's Nephew, because he hadn't been caught up with the class like he'd thought.

About ten minutes before the end of the period, despite how Peter didn't have his ability to read others' thoughts turned on, he felt a spasm of panic that was distinctly not his own. Lifting his head up from his book, he looked around the room, eyes searching and, he was sure, faintly glowing red. But the red had to be dim enough that it wouldn't really be perceivable to others, since he wasn't using his powers that hard.

He saw the person who was the reason for the panic quickly enough. It was one of his classmates – although that really wasn't saying much, because the school had the students from each grade eat at the same lunch period. He thought that the classmate's name was...Jason? James? Jayden?

Whatever, his name didn't matter. What mattered was that this J-named classmate was pinned up to one of the columns of the cafeteria by two of their classmates who were relatively well-known for their bullying. Sure, they weren't technicallytouching him, but they were big and beefy and it was clear from how they were standing what they were doing.

Peter bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn't gotten bullied at this school before his stroke out of his desire to just not make any friends at all, but he had been in New York. But even if he hadn't been there, it wouldn't have prevented him from knowing the fact that bullying was wrong. And all of the anti-bullying lessons that had been instilled in him over the years had taught him the importance of not being a bystander no matter what, of standing up for others when they couldn't stand up for themselves. It was a noble thing to do. It was what Captain America had done back in the day and still did, just to a different extent.

And although he didn't want anybody to find out about his powers...he still had powers. They were incredible, incredible abilities. Great abilities. And, to quote his mother with that one saying she'd always liked to say, as his uncle Ben had told him numerous times since he didn't have that many memories of her anymore, "With great power comes great responsibility."

It wouldn't take him much effort to sneak into the bullies' minds and change them or freak them out with some minor telekinesis to get them to stop what they were doing. Really, it wouldn't take him any effort at all.

Of course, that first idea of his was wrong. He knew it was.

But before he was able to do the second idea, Michelle was getting out of her chair. Peter blinked owlishly as he glanced over at her, noting how her jaw was clenched and locked tight, her dark brown eyes hard. She turned around and started walking over to where the three boys were standing.

He didn't know why she was doing this. She was a loner, like him. She didn't really have any friends. It wasn't like her to stand up for anybody, just like how it wouldn't have been like him before he'd gotten his powers.

And yet, Michelle started walking over to the three boys nonetheless. And this must've not been the first time that it had happened, either, because not only did the entire cafeteria go quiet, just like how his classmates had earlier when he'd arrived in his homeroom, but when the two bullies looked up to see her approaching, both of their faces went pale. Peter could see the color leech from their skin, even from a distance.

Now, Peter didn't have enhanced hearing; his powers had gotten rid of his asthma and restored his vision, but besides that and giving him what he thought was some extra durability and stamina, that was all that they had done.

But with his powers, he could nevertheless hear the conversation between Michelle and the two bullies that was starting to take place if he wanted to, and he did. He snuck into one of the bullies' minds in a way that he could only describe as akin to going through a backdoor of a firewall when hacking into a computer or an online database or program. He made sure that his presence went unnoticed by the bully, although that wasn't hard to do; most people actually didn't have the ability to sense Peter in their mind unless it was really obvious, and he'd only accidentally made it obvious once or twice. He'd made sure then to erase their memories of it happening afterwards, so that his powers weren't found out. He didn't want to think about what would happen if they were.

(He'd be kidnapped by the government, taken away from Ben and May. Ben and May might even be killed by the government in order to get to him, and Peter couldn't allow that. He'd run away before his aunt's and uncle's safety was threatened.)

" – you doing?" Michelle demanded of the two bullies. Peter said "demanded," because it was way fiercer than an ask.

"We – we were just talking with Jaeden here," the bully that Peter was currently in the mind of said. Ah, so Peter had been right with the bullied boy's name, he just hadn't been right in its spelling. He could "see," so to speak, its spelling because the bully thought of how it was spelled as he said the name.

Michelle was nonplussed. She looked at Jaeden. "Is that really all they were doing?"

Jaeden looked relieved, but also nervous at the same time. The nervousness, Peter realized, wasn't for his own sake; it was for the bullies'. "No, Michelle...but it's fine, really! You don't need to do anything."

...What was he so worried that Michelle was going to do?

Just as soon as Peter had thought the question, he got his answer as the bully he was in the mind of thought of it – as Peter wouldn't have been able to dig deeper into his head to find out the answer otherwise, because the bully would've noticed. A series of images appeared in his mind in flashes: of Michelle walking into what looked to be the boy's restroom at the same time as the two bullies were inside of it, of her grabbing them by the collars of their clothes and pulling them into one of the bathroom stalls, of threads of white coming out of...her wrists? Of Michelle's dark brown eyes, gleaming wickedly.

The images weren't the only thing to appear in the bully's mind. They were accompanied by his fear, a fear so visceral Peter was almost afraid, of his memory of the sensation of his mouth being glued shut by those threads of white. No, not threads. Webs.

"You're not going to tell anybody about this," the bully remembered Michelle saying at the time. "Not just because nobody will believe you if you do, but because I'll make you regret it, you understand? And you're going to stop bullying Jaeden and all of the other kids that you bully from now on."

Peter pulled himself out of the bully's mind before the bully could recall what his response to that had been – not that it had likely been much verbally, since he hadn't been able to speak.

After he did, Peter sat there in his seat, feeling numb to his very core.

He didn't understand. Since when had Michelle had powers? He didn't think that she had had them before, although he supposed without his own, he couldn't say that for sure. But none of their classmates had feared her before. They'd all mostly ignored her. So, unless she had decided to start using them recently, then it had to have happened sometime recently.

Maybe...had it happened at the field trip to Stanford, after he'd knocked over the spider terrarium because of how he'd gotten his own powers? He didn't remember what had happened to the spider, if anyone had told him what had happened to it in the aftermath. He doubted that they had, because of how his health issues had been so much more important, but people must have looked for the spider. It had been designed by Dr. Octavius as one of her life's work projects, after all.

But...a part of him wanted to rebel against that idea. He vaguely knew, though he didn't know how, that the spider had been meant to bite one person. And it hadn't.

("It's just that...when whatever happened, happened...it's like my senses have been dialed to eleven. There's way to much input, so – ")

So, how – ?

His train of thought was once more interrupted by Michelle. She came walking back over, acting as if she hadn't just indirectly threatened two bullies with a fate that they were both terrified of. Acting as if she had no idea that Peter knew that she had powers – because she didn't. His were so much more subtler, even with him not wearing his glasses anymore, that there was no way that she could possibly know.

Yet.

"Hey, Peter," Michelle said, eyeing him with concern as she sat down. "Are you alright? You look kind of...pale."

Peter managed a smile. "Just fine."

He'd said "yet," because while he knew that it technically wasn't any of his business and he supposed that he should have been happy she was standing up for others, since it was the right thing to do, he didn't want he was worried about happening to him and his family if anyone found out his powers happening to her and hers. It didn't seem like that eventuality had occurred to her yet, or maybe it had and she didn't think it would happen to her. Either way, as he would say for one last time:

"With great power comes..."

Word Count: 3,634