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Spider-Man: One and Only

Hi everybody, this is my first time writing a fanfic ever. So please give me proper criticism about my writing anytime. This fanfic will focus on Spider-Man, but some thing will obviously be AU as I’ll take stuff I like and stuff it into one universe. Copyright disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or anything that is featured in this fanfic. It’s right belong to those that properly own them at the time of this writing. No copyright infringement is intended or meant purposefully. (This story is now rebooted; the previous version no longer exists) Rebooted Synopsis: A 17-year-old dies and gets reborn into an AU Marvel as some alternate version of Peter Parker named Peter Fitzpatrick. Read as he lives his life full of surprises and unexpected twist. (Sorry if the description wasn't that great, but this is now a rebooted story from my previous one. Didn't want to spoil anything, so read to find out stuff)

Papa_Smurf_2755 · Anime und Comics
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12 Chs

Chapter 3 - Setting the Stage 3

Mary's POV

Same day as last chapter

Location: A Park (It's just a park so not much to put here)

I hate when I eat ice cream and it melts on my hands. Not because it's messy of course. But because I'm losing valuable ice cream. Truly if only there was an innovative breakthrough in the ice cream industry to help stop the melting. Maybe I should look into it myself, but Norman would never let me focus on something like that.

Oz serum this and Oz serum that. Doesn't he know that a solution to stop melting ice cream is much more valuable than my entire life's work. I sigh into the air, while shaking my head. Why must life be so unfair.

"What's wrong mom?" Peter questions. I look over at him, with the bench we are sharing. His own ice cream a strawberry flavor also melting on his hands, but he doesn't look like he actually cares and continues eating a relatively slow pace. How he is able to be so accepting of it?

"Oh, nothing Petey, just wish ice cream wouldn't melt so fast," I lament to him, with a downtrodden face. Peter just rolls his eyes, with a smile. And goes back to looking toward the front of us while eating his frosty treat.

I follow his example also looking forward to taking in the park were in. Trees rustling and leaves green from the spring season. People milling about just enjoying their Friday like Peter and me. I see some people walking their dogs and a couple sitting on another bench holding hands. There is also a family of four sitting together on the grass in a picnic.

Just a nice and peaceful day with my son. Aside from his disrespecting of his tutor, but Peter has always been my expressive little boy. Should tell him to tone it down a little though. Don't need him to go for the throat every-time someone criticizes his cute little drawings.

Speaking of those drawings they've always have been pretty imaginative. Drawing a little costumed man in red and blue all the time. Fighting these strange people with equally strange designs. He really does have a unique imagination.

Maybe I should get him some sort of art set for his birthday. It is coming up soon. I'll ask Emily about it, she herself was an artist whenever she has the free time. Explains why they have a bunch of art around the house. Norman often buying her art pieces.

Yep, that sounds like a plan.

Time skips to back home later in the day.

Switch to Peter's POV

I sit in front of the TV, not really paying attention to what is going on. Just doodling away, since I've got nothing better to do with my time. Just being a normal eight-year-old.

My knowledge of school and such is still basically perfect. So, studying it up really sounds like a total bore to me. At least when drawing I can get some semblance of enjoyment, when I've got nothing else to do.

Only getting better with the amount of time I spend trying to reimagine images from the comics I remember.

I hear the sounds coming from the kitchen, most likely mom just cooking something. Since she's got the rest of the weekend off, I wonder what we should do. But on the other hand, she does seem really tired and should take the rest of today and tomorrow as a resting time. She's really been working like a slave on her project in Oscorp.

I never asked her what said project is because of company policy, but I'm sure it's something revolutionary. I'm taken from my thoughts from the tv as it broadcast the news.

Something about a gang shooting at a park, which looks eerily similar to the one we were just at. A couple of people were caught in the crossfire apparently, including a whole family of four, with only one survivor. Looks like we dodged a bullet, literally.

It gives me a bad taste in my mouth to see such an open display of crime in this city, but at least it wasn't us that was affected. I feel bad and pity for those who were there, but my family and friends come first in my mind. Especially when my close circle only consists of basically four people.

I turn the channel with the remote to my side. Don't want to really linger on that bad thought, instead just putting on another of those Captain America adventure cartoons. Even after a couple of years, these cartoons are still so interesting. It's literally about The Captain America, a historical figure who is real in this history. It never gets old to think about that. How can it not be interesting to watch.

It's amazing to see how different history is compared to my past life. The year is only 2005 and yet technology is way ahead than it should be. At least by a decade or more if anything. Especially with all these big companies and industries only seen in the comics. Makes me wonder how far things are going to be when I can finally venture out into the world as an adult.

"Peter, dinners ready!" Mom calls out from the kitchen. Guess I was daydreaming longer than I thought. I look down to my done drawing and see what I did in my absent thinking. A drawing of a spider symbol. Smiling, I close the notebook and head to the kitchen. Smelling the cooking of my mother.

Maybe I should take up some cooking lessons from her. Wouldn't hurt to know some recipes or how she does things.

Switch to Mary's POV

Next day

I see Peter standing there with his back turned to me. He turns his head sideways for a moment. It's hard to focus on his face for some reason, but I can make out that he doesn't have his normal expression. Which kind of looks like a casual smile most of the time.

"Mom, you have to keep up," Peter tells me in a serious tone, his hand waving at me to follow him. Before he starts running in a direction. I follow after him without a thought of what is happening. Not really thinking, but just doing.

"Peter, where are you going!" I ask with a slightly raised voice as the distance between us keeps increasing after a long moment of running. I start becoming more aware of my surroundings. Realizing there isn't anything to call a surrounding. It's just Me and my son both running in a void of nothing.

It feels wrong to be here. That at least I know.

I feel confused and nervous on what is going on. I try calling for Peter again, but he just laughs and keeps on running ahead. I still trying to keep up with his figure, start feeling a sense of urgency for some reason.

Peter's figure keeps running into the dark and I'm starting to lose sight of him. The sense of urgency starts to grow. My mind telling me, that no matter what I can't lose track of him. With a renewed determination I start to push as hard as I can. His figure starts to come closer as I edge in on him.

'Mom'

I reach a hand to his shoulder to stop him. He increases his speed in a one final push forward. Gaining a little distance on me, which feels unrealistic since I'm an adult and he has short legs. Shaking my head to get rid of those unnecessary thoughts at the moment.

'Mom w...'

I need to stop him, but for what I don't know. My hand slowly inches within centimeters of touching his shoulder. His breathing loud enough to be heard by me and my own breathing also loud in this quiet void.

'Mom wa...'

My hand finally reaches his shoulder, and everything comes to a stop, but the sense of urgency is still there. It feels greater than it ever has. Was I supposed to stop him or just follow him?

He turns around and has a sad smile on his face. Why is he sad? Is it because I caught up to him. Peter rarely has a sad expression on his face, ever since he was born.

His eyes look blank as my eyes meet his, like he really can't see me. This isn't how I remember Peter's eyes. They're usually a dark hazel that gives off feelings of warmth and kindness so clearly. Not this blank almost unfeeling look. I start feeling more uncomfortable looking at them.

He lifts his hand and points it to his right. His sad smile, now turning into a depressing frown. Something is telling me not to look, but I do anyway. My curiosity and sense of urgency getting the best of me.

I look over to the pointed direction. Then see a blinding light coming toward us and a loud sound rings out into the air. Similar to a blaring horn from a truck if I had to compare it to something. I grab Peter and pull him into a hug as it gets brighter and louder.

Peter stay's still against me and almost cold to the touch. Lacking any signs of warmth on his body. Everything starts to shake as it gets closer and closer. Everything finally reaching a climax as it finally touches me and Peter.

'Mom Wake Up!'

I open up my eyes with a gasp. Sitting straight up and taking in my surroundings. Only seeing the decorative bedroom of mine. Pictures of me and Peter on the walls, from his days as a baby. Along with my doctorates degree hanged up on the wall. I turn to my left and see Peter standing there, with a worried look. Giving a sigh of relief I flop back down into my bed.

Then feeling how moist my skin is as the sheets cling to my sweat stained skin. Feeling uncomfortable I kick them off and feel the cool air on my skin. This is much better already.

"Mom, are you ok," Peter asks with is still worried look and now worried tone. His hair all ruffled up and his pajamas that I got him for Christmas being worn. He looks cute in them. Knew it was a good choice to get those.

"Oh yes, I'm ok. Just a bad dream, nothing to worry about," I answer him with a smile, it is a little forced though. I look over to the side and see a platter on the side of my bed. It has some cereal and a banana on it. I guess Peter brought me some breakfast and saw I was having a bad dream. Must be why he's here.

I usually wake up before him, but I've really needed this sleep from my constant work on project Oz. My baby boy definitely took initiative today.

Peter looks at me quizzically for a second before adopting his normal smiling expression. I don't want to think about the dream and thankfully Peter doesn't question it anymore. He knows when to push and when to not thankfully.

"If you say so, but anyway I came here to tell you good morning and give you a breakfast greeting. As you see before you, only the finest foods are here. A bowl of the most sugariness cereal known to man, Honey Smacks. Also, here's a banana," Peter presents in a showman like attitude. Throwing his hands out when announcing the cereal, but just have a blank expression when announcing the banana.

My favorite cereal, even if it is pretty unhealthy and a banana because why not.

"Why thank you my little munchkin," I thank him with a radiating smile. How kind and considerate of my little boy to bring me some breakfast. I knew I was raising him right, or at least Emily has also been a good influence on him.

I pull him into a hug to show my thanks and to relieve some of the stress the dream gave me. It still in the back of my mind, from how strange and vivid it was. Still clearly able to remember the expression on Peter's face when he was looking at me. It was almost a bittersweet smile now that I think about it.

"Ah c'mon, you're all sweaty," Peter says with an uncomfortable tone, breaking me out of that look he had in the dream. Scrunching up his shoulders. His face wrinkling a little bit. Peter always has been a pretty big person when it comes to being clean. But I'm his mother dang it, so he's going to accept this hug.

"Don't be a baby and just give your mother a nice hug," I say in a chastising voice. Peter's shoulders loosen as he returns the hug with a small huff. His arms wrapping around me, and I feel his warmth. I hum with contentless at his acceptance of the inevitable.

Thankfully it was just a bad dream.

Author's note: Alrighty sorry guys for not updating sooner. But this freaking heat wave is killing me right now. Hard to think when I'm sweating it up. I'll be updating the Red Hood chapter soon so don' worry about that either. But I really want to get this story running and getting into gear to the point where the actual story and stuff starts.

This all really being the buildup and stuff for the actual events. Ask any questions if you are confused and try to leave a comment on how you liked the chapter even if it was pretty short.

Once again sorry that I keep on going on like a week or two absence every time I update the story for a couple of chapters. I'm trying not to do that, but I have schoolwork to do, and this heat definitely is putting my in a bad mood for writing.

I'll try to push through though because I hate really giving false promises every time. At least know I'll never drop a story no matter how long it takes.

Anyway, thanks for reading and see you in the next chapter folks.