Questionable Decoration

"You okay?" Gwen asked, as if she hadn't done something completely superhuman.

"Wha-... Y-Yeah, I guess," Grant stuttered and attempted to sit up but failed miserably as her arms were like metal bands that simply refused to budge.

"You sure?" she asked once more, examining him for injuries.

"I am. I really am..." he reassured her, trying his best to not appear flustered at the odd position he found himself in. "So... can you let me go?"

"Ah!" she squeaked and promptly released him before scuttling back, her cheeks now tinged red.

"Damn, these spectacles are ruined," Grant grumbled, ignoring the terrified screams of the people around him and inspecting his right lens which was cracked beyond repair. The fact that he was practically blind without them didn't help his mood whatsoever.

He sighed and looked up, only to find Gwen missing. However, he quickly spotted her helping their driver out of the now-ruined taxi that had run through the store and was even comforting its terrified salesperson.

'What she did back there was thoroughly superhuman. Enhanced reflexes to react in a fraction of a second and superstrength to break open a locked car door with ease. She responded with enough calmness that it suggested either high-intensity situations were familiar to her, or she had anticipated the danger and acted accordingly.'

"Or both..." Grant shrugged, remembering that Shocker had shouted out the name Ghost-Spider. If what he remembered was right, which it probably was given Peter's brain, he was royally screwed.

His earlier hope of getting bitten by a radioactive spider and gaining superpowers was never going to happen. It's not that the spider had never existed, but that it had bitten someone else.

'Ghost-Spider, huh,' Grant thought morosely, as he watched Gwen carry an injured man to safety with surprising ease.

In the universe of Spider-Gwen in the comics, Gwendolyne Maxine Stacy, or Gwen Stacy, had been bitten instead of Peter Parker. She had donned the persona of the Ghost-Spider to explore her powers and have fun, but a tragic event in her life spurred her into pursuing heroism far more seriously.

'And the tragic event is me, Peter Parker, dying in her arms,' Grant thought dryly. 'Fuck.'

Inspired by the famous New York street hero, aka Spider-Woman, Peter Parker of Earth-65 wanted to make something of himself. His bullying only spurred his thirst for power and he eventually synthesized the lizard serum which would let him achieve what he wanted.

Unfortunately, the serum was not perfect and when Parker took it prematurely, it affected his brain which made him descend into madness and go on a murder-filled rampage. Gwen was forced to stop him, and he eventually died in her arms, spurring her advent into heroism.

'It's her canon event...' Grant thought worriedly, his heart slowly climbing up his throat. He really hoped that this multiverse wasn't the Spider-Verse, aka the arachno-human poly multiverse, as his existence would put the entire world in jeopardy, which would kill him in return.

He half expected Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099, to tear through the fabric of reality and rip him apart in the name of preserving the canon.

"Happy thoughts, happy thoughts," he chanted as he regained footing on his wobbly feet and glanced to the side, where he found Gwen gazing at the ravaged road and buildings, anguish evident in her eyes. The street lay in ruins, with numerous cars destroyed. Shops had been reduced to rubble, and lives had been lost.

All of them had families—people who would be devastated at their passing. So much death and desolation caused by a mere B-list villain in Spider-Man's rogue gallery. What of the city-level, continental, planetary, and cosmic threats that loomed around the corner?

'Human life... no, life is fragile in this universe. Far, far more fragile and yet more commonplace than my previous world. Galaxies and star sectors teeming with life,' he thought as he saw a man cry over his wife and kids' crushed bodies.

'To be one among trillions in a universe among infinite others. It is to be unimportant. To be too small to be of consideration. The multiverse is a big place... whatever happens, I will not be missed.'

The feeling of insignificance only grew in Grant's heart as sirens sounded in the distance. He couldn't hope for a radioactive spider to drop from the sky and bite him to give him some modicum of security. He had to make it himself, lest he get pathetically killed in the crossfire.

'Was this why Peter wished for power? Or was it just the blind admiration of a hero?' Grant thought gloomily as numerous ambulances and NYPD cars pulled up near the trashed street.

"Gwen! Are you hurt?" A voice suddenly boomed from one of the cars. One that Gwen found familiar.

Her dismal face lit up as she looked at a large, burly man stepping out of one of the many police cars, dressed in all-black NYPD police gear. His biceps were the size of Grant's thigh, and he looked as though he drank egg yolks as a replacement for water.

'This is totally not Earth-65. Captain Stacy isn't this buff in the comics...' Grant thought in amusement. This universe was getting weirder and weirder.

"Dad!" she exclaimed and ran into his embrace, her father's arms engulfing her small figure.

"I'm so glad you're okay," George Stacy said in relief, before looking at Grant. "You too, Parker. Your aunt was worried about you when you didn't reach your house on time."

"Thanks for showing up, sir. Our ride got trashed midway," Grant smiled, pointing at the broken taxi, whose driver sat next to it with a defeated expression.

"I noticed," George chuckled before letting go of his daughter and looking at the taxi with a raised brow.

"Now that's a crashed car if I've ever seen one..." He muttered and looked at Gwen. "Both of you were in the backseat?"

"Ummm... Yeah," Gwen said nervously.

"Hmmmm..." George frowned. "You sure neither of you has any broken bones?"

"No."

"Really? No place where you feel pain?"

"Dad... no."

"That doesn't make sense? The car was going quite fast, from the looks of it."

Grant could see Gwen visibly pale at the question, so he decided to step in.

"Well, It w—

"WE WORE SEATBELTS!" Gwen practically yelled, startling her father. "Ahm... sorry... we wore seatbelts..."

"Seatbelts?" George looked at her in disbelief. "But you never wear them in the bac—

"Peter made me wear them," she said, looking at Grant with a 'please help me' expression.

"Yeah... that's right. Just... thought it would be safer," he complied, rubbing the back of his neck with fake embarrassment. It wasn't the best of explanations, but the NYPD officer seemed to buy it.

George's face split into a wide smile upon hearing that, "Now that's what I call a responsible young man."

"Why can't you be more like him, dear? Might save your life someday," he looked at his daughter.

"Not now, Dad," Gwen groaned. "Let's go back home. I don't want to stay here anymore."

"Ah yes," George said, looking over his shoulder at his colleagues who were helping the injured. "Just give me a few minutes."

***

Grant waved Gwen and George goodbye as they drove their car into a relatively large house close by, while his supposed house was right before him. It had two stories and a fairly large garden of beautiful white flowers that extended past the gate and to the porch. The house was painted pure white, and its tiled roof was faded brown.

It had a 1950-60s charm to it and a respectably large backyard.

'Parker isn't that broke in this universe, eh? Shocker...,' Grant thought to himself, chuckling at his poor attempt at a pun.

He let himself in by unlocking the gate and made his way to the door. He had barely made it past the second knock before the door burst open, revealing a middle-aged woman who immediately pulled him into a hug.

"Where WERE you?!" she exclaimed into his shoulder as she squeezed the breath out of him.

"Ack!... Can't breathe!!" Grant managed to squeak, which made the death grip loosen.

"I was so worried!" May said, pulling back and looking at Grant's bruise and frowning. "Did someone hit you?"

"No, no one did. I got it in the car crash," he lied, noticing that Aunt May looked exactly like Marisa Tomei, who played her in the most recent Spider-Man movie. Makes more sense, I guess. She's Peter's aunt, not his grandmother.

"Car crash!" May's eyes widened and practically screamed. "ARE YOU HURT?!!!"

"No! I swear I'm fine. Mr. Stacy made sure I was alright," Grant reassured her, getting a little tired of people fussing over him. They treated him like a cup of glass. Well, in retrospect, it wasn't unwarranted, given how unhealthy he was.

Something he would fix.

"Ah, Mr. Stacy brought you back, did he?" May visibly calmed at the mention of Captain Stacy's name. "But are you sure you don't want Ben to call the doctor when he gets back from work?"

'Uncle Ben? He's alive? Ah, yes I ain't Spider-Man. I still need to gain more information ASAP though,' Grant thought before shaking his head once more.

"It's good that you're fine," May sighed in relief. "Now get inside and freshen up. I've left a few sandwiches next to that damn lizard. Make sure you eat all of them!"

'Eh? Lizard?' Grant thought in confusion but was practically shooed upstairs, past the living room, and towards his room.

"Make sure to eat the sandwiches!" May's voice echoed once more from below. Apparently, this Peter Parker didn't exactly show up for mealtime. No wonder he was so skinny.

'Finally! I'm alone,' Grant thought in relief, the dam that was repressing his panic beginning to crack once more. 'Let me get in my room first.'

He twisted the door handle and pushed into his room, only to be met with a scene he did not expect whatsoever.

"Well... now I know why Peter was acting weird."

***