(almost) New Year, new fic. Hope you enjoy the idea as much as I do

Peter didn't know how long he'd been staring at the picture of him and his Uncle Ben on a fishing trip from years ago. It was a hot summer day in July. They'd been vacationing in the Carolinas and his uncle just walked into the hotel room and asked if he wanted to learn how to fish. They took a charter boat up a river to a lake. There were way too many mosquitos, they nearly lost all their lunch, and Peter was sure something was staring back at him from the water at one point. But it was a fun time. A better time.

Ding dong

Peter looked up towards the sound, and then got up from the couch, setting the picture frame down. He went to open the door, finding a wrinkled, grey-haired man on the doorstep carrying a case.

"Ah, Peter Parker, I presume?" he asked.

Peter nodded and the man held out his hand to shake, which Peter took.

"Stan Leiber. Your uncle's lawyer. May I come in?"

Peter let the man in and quietly led him to the dining room. While Peter sat down, the man put his case on the table and started to pull out folders. Peter caught a few of the labels, but one stuck out the most: Last Will.

"I'm sorry to hear about your uncle," Stan commented as he worked. "Ben was an outstanding guy from what I could tell. Loved to talk about you when he could. Shame they didn't catch that mugger."

Peter smothered a flinch. "Yeah. Shame." If only someone thought to stop the guy instead of getting petty revenge. Peter bit the inside of his cheek. No, he wasn't going to wallow in self-pity right now. He could do that later, after this.

"Alright, let's see here" Stan pulled out the first folder, labelled 'Last Will'. He opened it up and then looked up at Peter. "Are you ready? I understand if you need a moment to calm yourself."

"No, I mean, yeah I'm ready. Get it over with." Peter could feel how hollow his voice felt.

Stan stared for half a second before reading off the Will. It was a simple thing, just like Uncle Ben. The house and all the belongings were left to Peter, but since he was a minor, the house would be left to a trusted benefactor until he came of age. Uncle Ben had also left all his financial assets to Peter to use for college or whatever science projects he wanted. The amount had almost broken Peter to tears.

Papers were signed and shuffled back into their little folders, except for one unmarked folder. Stan picked it up and said, "Now, I don't normally do this, usually my client's inheritors are of legal age, but your uncle was exceptionally passionate about you so I took it upon myself to look into this matter."

"What is it?" Peter asked, curiosity piqued.

"Well, it concerns who will be your guardian. Since you're not of legal age, you would either be handed over to next of kin, a trusted guardian, or a state foster home."

Peter's throat tightened. He knew this was coming, but the idea had been shoved in a mental closet for later. Not something he could process when Ben's death was so fresh in his mind. But as it was dragged out into the light, Peter could feel the dread pool up inside him and the questions that came with it popped out and scurried around like mice trying to escape the rising waters.

Stan opened the folder and read over the contents. "Unfortunately, there is no next of kin, but Ben did leave some contact information for a guardian." Peter perked up in curiosity at the news. "I've already sent them the notices and requested that she join us, but it seems she's running a bit late."

The pool of dread stilled its advance as Peter focused on this new development. "I have a guardian?"

"You didn't know?" Stan asked, but Peter shook his head. "Hmm, well I know your uncle was a good judge of character. I'm sure he trusted this person well enough to take care of you. Are you familiar with the name 'Rachel Weaverly'?"

"Rachel Weaverly?" Peter sat up straighter as he tried to recall such a name, but to no avail. It was just him and Ben living the bachelor life for years. "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell."

Ding Dong

Peter looked towards the door, and then excused himself to answer it. He reached for the handle when he felt a prickling sensation run up his body. It felt like someone was whispering "Watch out" over and over but without a voice. There was no direction to it, like when a punch was thrown, just a vague sense of unease coming from behind the door. Just in case, Peter peeked through the window on the side.

He saw two women. One dressed in a crisp business suit like it had just come off the dry cleaner, and the other looked like she came straight out of a biker gang meetup, helmet included. Biker Girl noticed him in the window and lifted her visor to peer back at him. Peter could see her eyes were different colors, one green and one yellow. She flashed him a thumbs up and a gesture to open the door. Peter's uneasy tingle didn't lessen in the slightest.

"Can I help you?" Peter said, cracking open the door. He got a better look at the business suit lady. She was tall, with her amber hair tied back in a bun and a very business-like manner about her. She also looked vaguely familiar. Was she on a billboard?

"Hello, Mr. Parker, I'm Gina. I'm a liaison for Rachel, a friend of your Uncle Ben," the business lady said. "I'm here to discuss a few matters on her behalf." She flashed a smile at him that would have calmed Peter if not for the insistent Tingle in the back of his head. Yet he didn't feel any hostility from her.

Peter blinked, and then just rolled with it for now. "Oh good. My uncle's lawyer was waiting for her, or you that is." He opened the door.

"Don't mind if I do," Gina said, stepping in and following Peter to the dining room. Biker Girl hung back a bit, opting to peruse the photos on the wall while Gina introduced herself to Stan.

Stan squinted at Gina. "Have I seen you before? I think I've seen you on the TV."

Gina bobbed her head and grinned. "Oh, I've done a little bit of acting on the side, but that's not important right now. I'm here on behalf of Ms. Weaverly to attend this meeting and to deliver custody papers to Mr. Parker." Gina pulled out a clipped stack of papers from a folder. Stan took them and began to peruse the pages. "Rachel regrets not being here in person, but her physical condition doesn't allow her to leave her house without proper care."

"Who is Rachel?" Peter piped up, drawing Gina's gaze. "I've never heard my uncle mention her name before."

"That's because she's a very private woman, Mr. Parker. May I call you Peter?" At Peter's nod, she continued, "I'm told she and your father met overseas. She helped him out of a spot of trouble and your father insisted on repaying the favor. He and your uncle assisted her in coming to the States and getting her textile business set up. Your uncle often assisted in her affairs as she can't move around the city well. That is, until he had to spend his time raising you."

Despite what his senses were saying about the woman, Peter could see that as something Uncle Ben would do. It still didn't add up that Ben would never mention a woman he helped so much, but it would have to be a mystery for another day.

Stan shuffled the stack of papers back together and handed it back. "I'm no Child Services, but everything looks to be in order. And as per his Will, Ben left a letter for Ms. Weaverly, aside from custody of Peter and holding his assets until he's of legal age." Stan dug out a small, thick envelope and handed that over as well.

"I'll see to it that she receives it."

"Good, Good. And with that, I'll be off now. Take care, Peter. Here's my card if you need to reach me." Stan left the card on the table and left the house.

When the door closed, Peter looked at Gina. "So, uh, do I go pack now or…?" Peter trailed off, pointing towards his room.

Gina shook her head and pulled out a phone. "Not yet. Living arrangements is one of the issues we need to discuss, as Rachel is unable to accommodate you at the moment." She tapped away at the phone and then set it on the table, showing a call on speaker to 'Spider Boss'.

The call connected and a mature voice filtered through. "Hello, Peter. I'm sorry we have to meet like this, but it's nice to finally speak with you. Ben spoke quite fondly of you."

"He never told me about you," Peter blurted out, wincing as he realized how it sounded. "Sorry, I mean… This is the first I've heard about you."

"And you think it's suspicious that I'm swooping in during your time of grief, hmm?" Rachel said. "Perhaps that I'm here to take advantage of your emotions and steal the Parker family fortune? Muahaha."

The blunt nonchalant tone caught Peter off guard, and even with the fake evil laugh, it was hard to tell if she was serious. "Maybe? A little. Wait, there's a family fortune?" It was a valid question, given the surprises so far.

Rachel scoffed. "There might've been, if Ben bothered to cash any of the checks I sent him. Stubborn man didn't think I owed him anything. 'Kindness is its own reward,' he would say."

Peter couldn't help but crack a smile. "That sounds like him." Peter pushed back the memories before he could start crying again. "So, Gina said you needed to talk about living arrangements?"

"Among a few other things, but that's the most pressing issue right now," Rachel said. "Due to the suddenness of all this, I'm not quite prepared to take you in. Not yet, anyways. For now, you can keep living in your home. My associates here can help you with anything you need, and they'll be on their best behavior." Her voice rose a bit at the end as the tone pointed at the two women. The Biker Girl stiffened up a bit while Gina was looking a little shifty.

Peter's gaze shifted between the girls and the phone. "Thanks," he said. "What else did you want to talk about?"

"Well, I do want to tell you that I can't attend the funeral in my condition. I'm sorry." Rachel sounded quite sincere in her regret.

"What condition is that?" Peter asked. "If you don't mind. I mean, I don't really know you at all and if we're gonna be living together, I think I should know…" Peter wanted to smack himself for his babbling. So much for first impressions.

Rachel chuckled. "Let's just say that I need specialized equipment to move around outside my house, the kind that my budget can't really handle."

A bolt of inspiration went through Peter's brain. "Maybe I can make some for you? I don't want to brag or anything, but I'm good at fabricating equipment." He was already running through ideas for a potential custom wheelchair. Most of the parts would be easy to find or trade for.

"Aren't you a little Tony Stark in the making? Minus his ego though," Rachel teased. "You don't need to push yourself for me, Peter. I've lived with this since I was born. I know how to get around to where I need to go. Speaking of which, I have to go now, but before I do, I want to ask you one last thing."

"Sure."

"How do you feel about spiders?"

"Spiders?" Peter's mind raced back to the moment that little spider bit him. "They're alright, I guess? They're pretty good at taking care of flies and bugs. Like friendly little neighbors."

Rachel hummed. "That's good. We have a rather big spider in my home and I didn't want to frighten you." The call ended there, leaving Peter to stare awkwardly at his two guests.

Thankfully, Biker Girl was the first to break the silence. "If we're staying the night, I call dibs on the couch."

A/N: A friend of mine on discord gave a prompt of "What if Peter Parker was raised by Rachnera?" Now, if my other fics aren't an indication, I'm a fan of writing crazy ideas. So I took the idea, changed up some things, and started writing it. I took out MCU Aunt May because she was a cardboard character, gave the Holland Peter some of the Maguire Peter's backstory since MCU never expanded on Uncle Ben, and cherry picked some of the monster girls that wouldn't be a problem (get outta here, Mero, you tragedy lover).

And then No Way Home happened. Oh Jeez, that was an amazing movie. Almost made me reconsider several decisions for this fic.

Now for some more serious news. I know I haven't updated in months for my other fics. Work has hit me like a speeding bullet train through a California wildfire ever since October, and I'm on a skeleton crew operating 24/7 with less than ideal circumstances. It's very stressful and doesn't make for conductive creativity. Furthermore, I just lost one of my dearest younger cousins on Christmas Eve, and even as I type that it doesn't feel real, but it's the truth and I'm still processing that. If there's a silver lining, I haven't found it yet.

Please be patient. I hope to have new chapters early next year.