Origin

A/N Well, here it is. The first chapter of my first fic. (Side note, the original title was going to be "Foreign Exchange," but that wasn't eye catching enough.) This was a good way to overcome writer's block with the monotony of my main writing projects, and I just blew through this. It was originally just supposed to be a bullet point summary of the main points. Afterall, how many times have we all seen the spider man origin story done? We all know how it goes. But my writing style always seems to pull me back towards real-time dialogue, I'm not really one for writing summarily. So now we're at over 9,000 words, that's more than 20 pages. In the end, I think it was worth it. Really sets the tone and the immersion by contrasting the new elements with something familiar, while also peppering in important details organically. (One last note, some sites likes to auto-delete the squiggles from the spider-sense symbol, which looks like this: ≈*≈, so if you ever see a lone asterisk, just assume that it's supposed to be the spider-sense symbol.)

I hope you all enjoy what I have to offer. Excellsior!

Chapter 1: Origin

"With great power, there must also come, great responsibility." - Uncle Ben

≈*≈

Peter sighed in aggravation as he felt the sixth spitball of the day impact the back of his head. Long since resigned to keep his head down and focus on his work, it was all 15-year-old Freshman Peter Parker could do to avoid letting his tormentors have the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him.

"Score! That's at least 5 in a row, that's got to be worth bonus points."

"Pa-leeze, Puny Parker's too easy a target to be worth any more than 1 point a pop. Dude doesn't even have a quirk, that is if you don't count his ability to transform into the perfect doormat." Eugene "Flash" Thompson joked as he and his cronies made it perfectly clear exactly who was at the top of Midtown High's pecking order.

In spite of himself. Peter couldn't help but notice just how perfect of a name "Eugene" was for someone like Flash. Having grown up as neighbors, Peter knew better than most just how naturally gifted his personal persecutor was. With the body and charm of an Olympian, and a super speed quirk that immediately made him the star of Midtown High's varsity football team, it was easier to list the ways Eugene hadn't won the genetic lottery. The two items on that list were halitosis and athlete's foot for anyone curious. He knew from personal experience.

By all accounts, Flash shouldn't have been enrolled in some backwater public school like Midtown when Peter knew he received multiple invitations to distinguished schools like Sky High: Hero Academy. He'd cruise through no problem, probably leave with a scholarship for the Ivy League Xavier Institute in tow. But somehow, lording over an inner-city school as a big fish in a small pond seemed to fit Flash soo much better than any big-name hero school ever could. Not that there was anything heroic about Flash in Peter's estimation.

But I'm not about to be just some background character in Flash's life story. Just watch, I'm gonna show him up: me, Peter Parker. Yeah, that quirkless wallflower barely worth a footnote, this is the start of his story. And the last time Flash makes an appearance in it.

With that comforting fantasy in mind, Peter endured their jeers with a knowing he had something Flash didn't. Afterall, Peter may be the school laughing stock but there was still one way his life was about to change for the better.

Aaand… finished! Press Enter, then submit. And there we go, easy as pie. Peter may not have had a quirk, but what he did have was an incredible aptitude for science, and he had just utilized it to ace his application for U.A. High School's foreign exchange program, support course to be specific. Peter had long outgrown any delusions of being a hero. Heck he could barely survive a normal high school, but if he could just get into the support course, then things would be different. If he could just get to Japan, he had a chance.

In America, the 2nd civil rights movement headed by Charles Xavier a number of decades back had resulted in quirks being considered a human right protected by the then newly ratified 30th amendment.

Japan, however, was another story entirely. In Japan, civilian use of quirks was banned. You needed a hero license to use your quirk in public, that meant Peter would finally be on a level playing field, no one would ever know he was quirkless unless he told them.

Was it selfish? Sure. And hey, he supported human rights as much as the next guy, but he'd like to see you have the heart to tell an orphaned and impoverished kid that he'd never be able to succeed without a quirk.

In that moment, Peter heard his Uncle Ben's words clear as the day he first said them. Always remember Peter, the greatest tool at your disposal isn't any fancy quirk, but the head on your shoulders. And son, you've got that in spades.

The sound of the school bell shook Peter from his train of thought. His last hour study period had come to an end, and none too quickly. If he had to endure a 14th spitball, he might not have been able to properly enjoy the email informing him of his acceptance into U.A. that was surely waiting for him at home. No, he wouldn't let anything ruin this day for him.

Walking out the front door, he saw cheerleader Liz Allen talking with her friends right beside him. She was the apple in the eye of every guy at Midtown High, which meant a pig had a better chance of flying than he had with her, especially with Valentine's Day right around the corner. But… maybe a flying pig wasn't so unlikely. However rare, animals have manifested quirks before, U.A.'s own Principal Nezu was proof enough of that. And speaking of U.A., if there had ever been a reason to believe his luck was turning around, today was the day to test that hypothesis. Pushing up his glasses, it was time for Peter to shoot his shot:

"Umm… hey, Liz…" No response. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Professor Warren is leading a field trip to Oscorp tomorrow. I was wondering if…" completely ignored. "Ugh, Never mind." He lowered his head and walked off.

"I think Puny Parker was trying to talk to you, Liz."

She rolled her eyes. "I know. But don't worry, the quirkless are like dinosaurs: so long as you don't move, they'll leave you alone."

"It's really too bad. He might be kinda cute if he wasn't such a geek." A third girl chimed.

"Oh my gosh, you did not just say that out loud."

"Kidding, I'm just kidding, geez. It's that stray dog look. You just can't help but feel sorry for them, even if they look like they carry rabies."

At that, the girls erupted into a new round of laughter at his expense. Yep, nothing is going to ruin this day for me. Peter thought ruefully to himself.

Right around then, Uncle Ben's old beat-up car pulled up to the curb.

"Hey Uncle Ben…"

"Hey yourself Michelangelo. Why the long face? You got that application in, didn't ya? What's the score, champ?"

"I should know by the time we get home. The tests were a breeze though, I actually feel pretty good about my chances, believe it or not."

"Atta boy!" Uncle Ben clapped him on the shoulder as he stepped into the car, a small smile tugging on his lips. He always did know how to cheer me up.

"So, this U.A. place. Do you really think they'll let you transfer 6 months into the school year? From what you've told me, this place is supposed to be pretty elite."

"The Japanese school year starts in the spring instead of the fall." Peter explained as they began the drive home. "They won't even start for another couple months. It won't be a problem."

As soon as they got back to their humble home in Queens, Peter was back to his usual self, better in fact, as he bolted through the door like a man possessed.

"Oh, Peter-"

"Hey Aunt May, no time to talk, gotta check my email, I'll tell you everything once I'm done." He called back, already halfway up the stairs.

Logging into his desktop computer in a flash, it didn't take him long to pick out the lone email written entirely in Japanese, and just in time for Aunt May and Uncle Ben to make it up the stairs to hear the news with him.

ヘ: ピター,パーカー

"To: Peter Parker," he automatically translated. "We have graciously received your application and will have it fully evaluated in time for the incoming school year. Your preliminary assessments have shown great promise, however due to your lack of references, referrals, or recommendations, we have no choice but to prioritize our other applicants in the nomination process. We wish you the best of luck. Expect to receive our final decision within one month's time. Sincerely, the U.A. Foreign Exchange Committee."

Peter could only stare blankly at the screen for a few moments before he fully processed the information. "Are you kidding me!? I can't believe this. Th-the sheer nepotism of these guys."

"Now dear, I've seen how hard you've studied, I'm sure you scored more than well enough to make the cut," Aunt May comforted.

"For a smaller school, maybe. But this is U. A. The Alma Mater of the number one hero in the world. Not to mention all the applicants that probably have I.Q. boosting quirks, and the countless corporate execs backing them with greasy palms. The school needs to get its grant money from somewhere."

"Now Peter, I will not have my nephew acting so fatalistic. They said you showed promise, I thought you said the Japanese valued meritocracy."

"Those are just blanket formalities, Uncle Ben. I bet they say that to everyone. Not that they'd see any merit in some quirkless kid from Queens anyway."

Uncle Ben put his hand on Peter's shoulder, careful not to show the grim look that came over his face. "Just, don't give up hope, son."

"Thanks, Uncle Ben."

The rest of that day came and went with Peter knowing that come morning it would start all over again.

Thursday, February 10th, 2XXX

"Thanks for helping me out with this Pete, my Dad will kill me if my science grade falls any lower."

"Don't mention it Harry, least I can do considering all those times you've bailed me out."

"Oh, come on, navigating social circles is nothing special. Getting a lug like Flash to stay off your back is simple enough when you know the right tricks. You're smart, you'll figure it out, I'm here for you."

"Easy for you to say."

"Hey, who said anything about it being easy? It's a real trial by fire you know. If you knew the kind of crowd you attract as the son of a billionaire, you'd think twice before going all green with envy. Trust me, you don't want to go through that crash course. And that's nothing compared to the sharks my Dad has to deal with on a daily basis."

"Oh, teach me your ways, great and wise one." Peter replied with no shortage of sarcasm.

The self-help guru here is Harry Osborn, Peter's best friend and the heir to the multinational Oscorp Industries. And boy did he look the part, cashmere sweater over a fashionable button-down shirt, and perfectly teased hair. As far as Peter was concerned, the only reason Harry wasn't the most popular guy in school is because he isn't snobby enough to capitalize, not to mention too dorky to stick the landing.

Peter felt he would never understand why Harry insisted on letting himself be dragged down by the quirkless geek standing next to him, but dash it all if Peter wasn't grateful for his best friend's loyalty. True, he was tempted at times to spite his friend's good luck in life, but a great guy like Harry needed and deserved every perk he could get.

"Haha, well young padawan, nothing beats the school of hard knocks, but High School's a good enough substitute. Tell you what, after the field trip I'll teach you how to finally get yourself a date in time for Valentine's Day."

"Come on Harry, I've done the math. You're good, but no trick you pull is gonna get a girl to fall for someone like me."

"Give yourself a little credit pal, you'd be surprised. I wish I had some of your good points."

"Which one, being short or blind?"

"I'm serious! You know Pete, you've got things pretty good. I'm a bit jealous, honest."

"Really!? What do I got that you could possibly want?"

Harry gave an exasperated sigh and lightly shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you? Yeah, you're quirkless, but at least you don't have to worry about disappointing anyone, you're out of the spotlight, free to live your own life. And you've got a brain anyone would kill for. Compared to that? I've got nothing. All my quirk does is make my endocrine system all wonky. And no, you don't have parents, but your aunt and uncle are always there. It's… nice, you know?"

"Yeah, it's nice," Peter relented. He hated to admit it, but he knew that getting anything he wanted like Harry could, wouldn't make his problems disappear. And he wasn't about to argue that his friend had it easy either.

Thankfully, the tension wasn't allowed to linger any longer as Professor Warren chose that time to call everyone to attention. "Alright everyone, listen up. Mr. Osborn has graciously allowed us a tour of the Oscorp Neogenics facility. Now we're working with harmful radiation here, and that stuff tends to… you guessed it, radiate outwards. So, make sure you follow directions carefully and steer clear from the equipment, especially during demonstrations. Have I made myself clear?"

A mumbled chorus of "yes professor Warren," was his only response.

"Good, come along now, and make sure you do the assigned work if you want this little trip to mean anything for your grade."

"Ooh, busted. Looks like you're going to have to actually use a pencil." Peter elbowed Harry.

"Looks like it. What're your plans for the demo?"

At that, Peter took out his prized camera and slipped the strap around his neck. "Oh, nothing much, just getting an exclusive peek at the cutting edge of Neogenics tech. Snap a few pics, make the experience last longer. You know, the works."

"Oh? Working for the school paper now, are we? Or are you secretly colluding with the paparazzi? That's low Pete, thought I could trust you." Harry said with his patented tone of effortless sarcasm.

"Nah, you kiddin'? The school paper is understaffed, but they're still not desperate enough to ask the quirkless kid to take pictures. Photography's just a hobby. Plus, it works as paparazzi repellent."

"Aah, clever. They see me next to you already holding a camera, and they think the opening's already taken. Occupied territory. Nice thinking, Pete. Maybe we can even get you a fake press pass."

Harry and Peter followed the rest of the class into the building, idly listening to the tour guide's explanation.

"With the widespread advent of quirks introducing hitherto untold levels of phenotypical variation into the population, all without a corresponding increase in speciation, a new branch of genetics—aptly named Neogenics—emerged out of then more niche epigenetic research," she explained as they walked through the facilities.

"We at Oscorp are currently researching two methods of reproducing precise neogenic properties. At our other facility, we test biochemical injections on rodents; That's Mr. Osborn's personal project. But here, we use targeted streams of radiation on bugs. Any questions?"

Peter raised his hand. "Why bugs? Why not lab rats like the other lab?"

"Several reasons. First, it's more ethical than subjecting higher order mammals to harmful radiation, a lot less red tape too. Second, bugs are accessible, cheap. Third, they reproduce quickly and possess a high level of adaptability and genetic variation, just what we need. And finally, it's already well established that neogenic properties, e.g., quirks, occur in humans, and are even applicable to other mammals within certain parameters. We want to study neogenic principles in organisms that possess no prior proclivity to SSM—Spontaneous Stable Mutantification—due to the presence of an x-gene. As such, invertebrates are perfect candidates for such research. Conversely, our biochemical department uses mice because their ultimate aim is pharmaceutical research."

"Oh, well I guess it seems pretty obvious when you put it that way." Peter replied as he scratched the back of his neck with slight embarrassment.

Harry chuckled. "You could actually follow all that? You are such a nerd."

"If you'll now turn your attention here. This is the neogenic recombinator, the machine we use to magnetically contain and target streams of calibrated beta and gamma radiation in our neogenic experiments. Normally, the emitter is aimed at a target, but for safety reasons, this demonstration will make use of a receiver to contain the stream in a closed-circuit loop. While the radiation will be completely contained by the machine, we must remind you this is a live demonstration, so please stand back."

After a few moments of nervous excitement, the machine was turned on, and a stream of light erupted between what looked like two sci-fi laser cannons pointed at each other. It reminded Peter of lightning arcing between two Tesla coils.

"What do you think? Straight outta ghostbusters, eh Pete?"

"I wouldn't want to cross those streams, that's for sure," Peter said in awe, as he raised his camera and snapped a quick pic.

Unbeknownst to either of the boys, caught in that flash was a spider in the process of lowering itself down from the ceiling by its web when it got suddenly blasted with high intensity radiation. Truly, a snapshot in time that would be the cause of a radical change in history. And just as soon as it occurred, the moment was over.

Walking away from the exhibit, the two boys continued their small talk unaware that something extraordinary hadjust occurred before their very eyes.

"So, what did you think?" Harry asked.

"Oh please, I do experiments way more extreme than that in my basement."

"Is that right? Well, I bet what my Dad does in his garage would give you and your basement a run for your money."

"What, is his Lamborghini collection supposed to impress me or something?"

They both laughed their way down the corridor when Peter suddenly felt a jolt of pain in his hand. Reflexively shaking out his hand, Peter clutched his convulsing wrist, but not before catching a glimpse of a glowing spider skittering away. "Uuugh, I think I'm gonna be sick." He said staggering, barely keeping to his feet.

"Woah buddy, easy there." Harry said as he draped Peter's arm over himself to support his friend. "Talk to me Pete, what's wrong? Think it could've been the radiation?"

"Uurrhh," he groaned. "Maybe, I don't really know what happened," Peter replied, too delirious to discern his situation.

"Hey Professor Warren, I think that big ray gun's affecting Peter!" Harry called from their location at the back of the group, the teacher and lab coat-wearing guide rushing over to them from their leading positions at the front.

"What happened?" Warren demanded sternly.

"I don't know, Peter just suddenly collapsed. Think he could've been susceptible to the recombinator because he's quirkless?"

"That's not how neogenics works, young man. Or radiation for that matter. Being quirkless can't make you more susceptible to radiation poisoning. That's like saying blind men are more susceptible to peanut allergies. Honestly," she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation at Harry's superstition. Still, the uneasy look on her face told a different story. she pulled out some sort of handheld electronic meter and waved it around Peter. "Ambient radiation is a bit higher than normal, but only barely. It's possible a leak in the magnetic field could've let a deflected current hit your friend. Only a few stray particles at most. And the scatter radiation couldn't cause any acute symptoms. Most likely an electromagnetic disturbance to his brain waves brought about a sudden wave of nausea and disorientation. Happens sometimes with solar flares or radio towers. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just walk it off."

Harry glared at her. "In English, please."

"The magnets made him dizzy. He's fine."

"Oh no he's not. I'm taking him to my father, where's his office? I know he's in."

She tilted her head at him. "Your, father?"

Professor Warren cleared his throat. "Ma'am, this is Harry Osborn, the reason we're able to have this field trip."

Her eyes widened. "Oh! I see. Of course, sir, right this way. I'm sure Mr. Osborn would like to take stock of the situation."

≈*≈

"Yes… Understood." He hung up the desk phone as the person on the other end finished explaining to Him the little accident in the lab that had Harry running upto His office. Little scamp, pestering me at work now.

Put on your happy face, Norman. He thought as He picked up the framed picture sitting at the left edge of his desk on the left hand side of a decorative tengu kabuki mask. The picture was of Norman smiling with his family. A young Harry on Norman's shoulders as Norman's late wife laughed by their side. That left the mask, which was a souvenir from when Norman went to Japan to establish an Oscorp branch there some years ago.

The irksome look on His face twitched upwards as Norman looked at the picture. Remember why you do this, Norman thought as he placed the picture down right at the right side of his desk phone, right in time to see it buzz to life as Harry made himself known by holding down the PA button on the other side of his office door.

"Come in." Norman said, holding down the corresponding button on the phone base. His voice, a little disgruntled at first, quickly softened in time for the two young men to walk through the door.

"Ah, Harry my boy. And, Peter, isn't it? It's so great to see you. I want you to know you've been like a brother to Harry, and for that I am very grateful. Are you alright? Something about radiation?"

"Oh, don't worry about me Mr. Osborn, I'm mostly fine now, just a little queasy is all." Because of how busy Harry's father was, Peter had only ever seen him on rare and brief occasions over the years, but Peter knew him to be a no nonsense and good humored man.

"Don't be so modest Pete, my Dad's no one to be afraid of, tell him what happened, he'll make things right."

"I must agree with my son's assessment. If something happened, I want to know about it. Don't worry about inconveniencing me, I'll gladly make time to meet a friend of Harry's. First, remind me what kind of quirk you have again, Peter? I remember you're very intelligent."

"Actually sir, I'm quirkless."

"Really?" He intoned with amused surprise. "I've always had a soft spot for the quirkless; You know, the research we're doing here at Oscorp may one day prove a cure for the condition. Still, it must be rough, I can only imagine what that's like for a kid your age. I remember having to endure all those naysayers with all their unearned gifts laughing at the futility of my efforts as I worked in a basement and built Oscorp from below the ground up with nothing but my hard-earned wits." He gave a dry chuckle. "Look who's laughing now. And if your influence on Harry's grades is any indicator, you're getting along just fine without a quirk. So, tell me son, what're your plans?"

"Plans, sir?" Peter asked.

"Oh, come now Peter, you know what I mean. Men like us, we're not the type to take the prescriptions of fate lying down. Surely you've made plans to succeed in the face of society's expectations."

"Well, I just applied to the U.A. Support Course as a foreign exchange student. But without any references, it doesn't seem like I'm gonna get in."

"Don't be like that, Pete. You aced those tests! If anyone deserves to get into that school it's you, rotten luck or no. I just hope you don't get stuck in a hospital because of this radiation stuff, not that your Aunt and Uncle could afford it." Harry lamented.

"U.A.? Why, that's Japan's top school, isn't it? Very ambitious Peter. Harry's right, it would be a shame if you missed out on your rightful spot because of a lack of connections." Norman could smell an opportunity cooking. "Peter, I think today just might be your lucky day."

Peter suddenly looked up in bewilderment. "You don't mean you'l-"

"That's right," Norman said with a grin. First rule of business: want someone's help? Offer them what they want most. "To make up for that little mishap in the lab, and to thank you for how much you've helped my family, I would be more than happy to make sure that U.A. gives you the consideration you deserve. Oscorp holds quite a sway in the Japanese market you know. You'll have my full recommendation."

"I don't know what to say, Mr. Osborn. How could I ever repay you?"

"Say yes. And don't mention it, it's just a small favor, the least I can do. But… once you inevitably make it big, if you'd just remember who gave you that first helping hand, I would be very pleased," Norman deigned to give a heartfelt smile to the boys. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Harry. I'd be remiss to allow such a situation go uncorrected. Now Peter, are you sure there isn't anything else you need?"

"No sir, I couldn't possibly ask for anything more, I'm fine now, really. Sorry for bothering you."

"Don't apologize Peter, I never do. Now then, you two get going along. Wouldn't want to hold up your class now, would we?"

Soon enough, Norman was left with only Himself. His charismatic expression falling into a heavy one as He contemplated the workload of the new matter Norman had just assigned Himself.

Still, He thought, picking up the Japanese mask on His desk. Our Japanese offices could do wonders with an eager volunteer on standby. And quirkless too—in other words, a blank slate. It's so hard to find a good control group nowadays, Peter would understand that. And I get to be seen rewarding the efforts of a quirkless orphan: it's positively philanthropic. Oh yes, Peter Parker, you are the gift that just keeps giving.

And with my recommendation on the line, they wouldn't dare sue us over this lab accident either. That would just be troublesome for everyone. He mused with a backhanded thought. Potential resource acquired, and potential disaster averted.

Satisfied, He pushed a button on his desk phone to begin the necessary preparations. "Get me Davis on the phone, will you?"

≈*≈

Peter collapsed on his bed. He was exaggerating slightly when he said he was fine. After the initial bout of nausea passed, he was able to push through the rest of the field trip, but the ill and clammy slog got progressively worse as time went on.

"Peter dear, there's someone on the phone for you."

"Thanks Aunt May." Peter forced himself to his feet and went downstairs to pick up the corded phone in the kitchen. He swore they were the only household in New York that still used a landline house phone because they couldn't afford an individual mobile phone plan.

"This is Peter," he greeted with all the energy of a blobfish. "Hey Harry… You haven't done it yet?... I know the whole fainting spell fiasco took up a lot of time, but… You're not going to fail, stop being so dramatic… Come over now?… I don't know, Harry, I'm still feeling pretty under the weather… Look just figure it out yourself, I've got my own problems to deal with!" He hung up the phone a little harder than he should have. I could have handled that better. Peter admitted to himself. But what's he know about real struggle? This'll be a good learning experience for him. A scornful part of him rebutted. He quickly shook his head a few times, banishing the thought. I need sleep, I'm way too tired right now to deal with this crap. I can say sorry in the morning.

And thus, a long, restless, fitful night commenced.

≈*≈

"Thanks for driving me to school, Uncle Ben. It can be a real hassle to catch the bus."

"Of course. Besides, I hear we have a lot to talk about, and this is a good opportunity. With the office holding me so late last night, we didn't get the chance before. So, what's this I hear about your friend, Mr. Osborn?"

"Oh, it's great Uncle Ben! Harry's dad, you know, the CEO of Oscorp, he said he would recommend me to U.A.!"

"That's great sonny! But, uh, listen." A pang of guilt crossed his time worn face. "I suppose there's no use waiting till later to say this. About why I was held over last night." He paused. "There's been a refinancing on the house. We… can't afford to send you to Japan."

"Huh? Whatever happened to 'don't give up hope?' This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, I thought you said you'd support me in this Uncle Ben. Don't you want me to reach my potential?"

"Of course we do, Peter. May and I, we couldn't be prouder. You're the smartest kid we know, you have limitless potential. And that's exactly why we need you at home. As much as I hate to admit it, we're getting old Peter, and the game is changing. I don't like it, and I know it isn't fair, but sometimes the Lord asks us to sacrifice for the things that matter most, and right now that's family. You have a gift, Peter; you'll get another chance." He paused to let the point sink in. "Don't forget Peter: 'With great power, there must also come great responsibility.' "

"Great power!? I'm quirkless Uncle Ben, I've been sick as a dog all day, heck, I can't even touch my toes. And now my one chance comes along after so much struggle, and you want me to spit in the face of Mr. Osborn after he's given me this opportunity-"

"Like how you spat in Harry's face last night by blowing him off on that assignment? I heard about what happened. A man's only as good as his word, Pete. Is that how you treat your friends? Your only friend? You think Mr. Osborn would appreciate how you treated his family after what he just did for you?"

"Stop lecturing me, please! You say I have this big responsibility to my family, well news flash, I am my family. I don't have parents-"

"And I know I'm not your father-"

"Then stop pretending to be!"

It was all Uncle Ben could do to hold back the tears. "Right, well if that's how you feel then-"

"Just pull over. I can catch the bus at the next stop."

Slamming on the brakes, he did just that. "Now you listen here, we're all just trying to help, and if you keep-

*slam*

Uncle Ben rolled down the window, sticking his head out to see his nephew walking away after slamming the car door in his face.

"Peter!…"

Peter didn't look back.

Ben Parker slapped his hand against the wheel, it was all he could do to vent his remorse, he beat on the wheel a few more times before ultimately resting his forehead against it in defeat. "Oh, Richard… Where did I go wrong?"

≈*≈

Peter turned the corner, head down, as he stewed over his misgivings. Stupid school, stupid field trip, stup- "Hey! Wait up!" He yelled as he ran to catch up with the school bus that smugly forgotten its last stop. Stupid bus…

Running to catch up before the bus picked up too much speed, Peter slapped the side of the bus. "Hey! Stop the bus!" Peter yelled, passing by a cruising bicyclist on the road right beside him. "Stop the bu-!" Hang on. Peter slowed down to a light jog, the same bicyclist zooming past him as he watched the bus drive out of view.

I outran that bike like he was walking, I must have accelerated up to 30 miles per hour on a dime to keep up with that bus! Even Flash would need a running start to get to that speed. Peter stood there thinking, chin in hand. Okay, okay, focus. One thing at a time. He took another look at the swollen hand he was using to rub his chin. At first, he had thought he had bruised it while stumbling around yesterday. Later on, when he could think back more clearly, he had realized it was a spider bite, and probably what had caused his whole condition in the first pla-

≈*~ riiing ~*≈

He tensed up, automatically jumping with a start, the way one might when catching sight of a spider on their shoulder. Peter didn't know why that ringing in his ears startled him so much, but he was glad it did a moment later when he saw an angry cab drive by, honking all the while. That guy would've flattened me! Peter realized. "Suppose that's what I get for standing in the middle of the road," he muttered. Wait, how did I get back on the sidewalk from there? Guess he should thank his lucky stars for good instincts, and even better reflexes. Who am I kidding?There's no way you could have seen that coming. He admonished himself. And you know our reflexes are terrible. He thought as his nerves settled from the fight or flight response. Flexing his fingers, he let the situation sink in. Couldn't have just been luck either. As a nervous habit, he wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve, taking off his glasses in the same motion, polishing them absentmindedly. Man, these things are smudged up today. After doing all he could, he replaced them on his face. What the… He quickly took them off again. Could I have grabbed Uncle Ben's by mistake? He studied the frames. Nope, they're mine alright.

Why does this stuff keep happening? Why is everything so loud? Am I still delirious from yesterday? His gaze wandered over to the clearly defined bite mark in the middle of the welt on his hand.

That spider… was glowing! Peter realized at once remembering the forgotten detail. Could it have been one of their test subjects? His fidgeting hand unconsciously moved to grab the camera in his bag and check through the pictures he took. No, there's no way, it's preposterous. "Just a common house spider." He told himself. A glowing common house spider that nearly made you puke. His mind corrected, much to Peter's chagrin.

Peter stopped upon a certain picture. An innocuous detail catching his eye. "Is that?.." Yes, he was sure of it. A spider dangling in the stream. Could it have given me a quirk!? No, he stopped himself again. Everyone knows you can't just give quirks. Disable them, sure. Some people can copy them even. But give? And from an animal no less, and a spider at that. But Peter's mind was already working faster than he could keep up with.

"I have a quirk," Peter muttered in awe.

"Of course you do, everyone's got a quirk." A wiry old hot dog vendor said, interrupting his thoughts. "Now are you going to stand there forever, or are you gonna buy something?"

"Um, sorry." Peter replied, fishing through his pocket for cash. "Just give me one with extra mustard, Mr…" Peter scanned his name tag. "Lee?"

"Coming right up, and just call me Stan."

≈*≈

These powers are amazing! Having spent the last few hours testing his new capabilities, Peter considered his spider-quirk hypothesis proven and totally awesome. After a life of being quirkless, he felt so free flipping through the air between the tall buildings. He only had this quirk for a day, and it was already at pro-hero level! He could only imagine all the new possibilities this opened up for him.

He had already had an epiphany on how to simulate spider silk using a wrist shooter—an idea for support item he was already cooking up—he could picture it now: the formulas rushed through his mind so clearly, the possibilities were endless. The mixture could work as a strong adhesive, but also a cable, or really any other shape if he configured it right. Sure, compounding would be a bit complicated, but the base chemicals wouldn't be too hard to get a hold of, if only a tad expensive.

And that of course brought Peter back to the issue of money, bringing him down from the high his new powers provided, Uncle Ben's lecture returned to the forefront of his mind. "Need to take responsibility; can't afford to go to U.A." He mocked under his breath. Fine, he could do it himself, it was about time he took things into his own hands. With this quirk, the sky's the limit. The first idea that came to mind was showmanship. He could make a killing as a performer with a flashy quirk like this. In fact, he remembered seeing a recent ad about a big wrestling prize.

All right, now we've got a plan coming together!

Step 1: sneak back home and craft a makeshift wrestling outfit using Aunt May's sewing machine and whatever else you can find.

Peter looked at his cobbled together costume. Red ski mask and sweater to cover him up, and a blue hoodie with torn off sleeves over top. And the finishing touch? A large off-center spider emblem across the front in sharpie for added gravitas. It was a good look, nice color, even if it was a little toasty underneath. Now all that's left is to grab a few spare parts from my room to help with…

Step 2! Break into the school lab to finish building my web shooters and hammer out any kinks in my newly devised web fluid formula.

With his new wall crawling abilities, coming in through the window was laughably easy. Not only that, but his spider like senses warned him when people were looking his way and when it was safe to run by when their backs were turned.

His wrist shooters weren't originally designed to dispense and shape fluid, so it took a bit of recalibrating and the addition of a custom high-pressure spinneret to get a strong enough weave for secure cords and prevent jamming from precocious coagulation. Thankfully, concocting his web fluid didn't run into any complications. Once he got to mixing the chemicals, everything just clicked. He was surprised he never thought of this before, it was just so intuitive. And to think I've been using gorilla glue up till now.

A couple hours in the lab, and he was all set. Now all he had to do was swing across town just in time for,

Step 3: win that wrestling match to the cheers of an adoring audience, take the sweet, sweet cash reward, and watch all his problems go bye-bye.

And pretty soon he was next in line to sign up for that very match. "Name?" The monotone man asked

"The human spider."

"Not your stage name, I mean your real name!"

Peter paused, but had the sense to come up with a suitable pseudonym before the man got suspicious. "Put me down as Ben Reilly."

And not long after that he was next up to get in the ring. "And now for our next contestant going up against the unbeatable Bonesaw, we have the amazing, the spectacular… hey what's your name, kid?" The announcer whispered to him.

"The Human Spider."

"Are you kiddin' me? That name sucks!"

≈*≈

Peter was walking out of the locker room counting his hard-earned cash. 10,000 big ones, all accounted for. Now all that's left is to hightail it back home, spin some story about selling the patent for some support item I made, and all will be well in the Parker household. I'll put on some puppy dog eyes for Harry tomorrow, tell him I missed school because I was puking my guts out, and all will be forgiven on that front. Life is finally going my way.

"Hey, big shot, stop that guy!"

An obvious crook ran towards Peter, and by proxy, the elevator. But Peter didn't try to stop him, instead turning to the side as to avoid bumping shoulders with the man, his attention now towards the cops in hot pursuit. "Hey, sorry pal, but I'm a wrestler, not a cop." Why should I get involved?

"Thanks!" The crook called as the elevator doors closed. Peter getting a good look at the man's desperate face in the process. When he turned back, he was met by the cop getting up in his face.

"What's the matter with you? You let him go! You could've taken that guy apart."

"What am I, a superhero? I missed the part where that's my problem." Until I was bitten by that spider yesterday, I was quirkless, powerless, and this guy wants me to confront a dangerous criminal? Not my job pal, yours.

"You're wearing a costume, I thought you'd at least be a Good Samaritan."

≈*≈

Peter was walking home when he saw police parked outside his house. He slapped his forehead. Crap! I'm such an idiot. The school must have called when I didn't show up today. Quirkless kid lost in New York; they must've been looking for me all day worried sick! Oh man, what if they search my bag and find the outfit and money? They'd think I was part of some gang; Uncle Ben would kill me!

Peter quickly hid from view before swinging through his bedroom window while no one was looking, throwing his bag under his bed. He then snuck back down to the front door, revealing himself.

"Don't worry, Aunt May, I'm here!" He ran over to his crying Aunt and gave her a hug.

"Oh, Peter dear, thank goodness you're here. It's terrible."

The cop was the next to speak up. "I know it's not easy to hear this son, but it's about your uncle."

"Huh? My Uncle?"

He nodded. "He was shot, son. Trying to stop a crook.

Peter's world stopped in that moment, his heart seized, and it seemed an eternity passed before its next beat. "No… not Uncle Ben." It was all he could muster. Peter squeezed his eyes shut as the tears streamed down. For all his newfound power, he was incapable of swallowing the lump in his throat.

"You'd be proud of him. He died doing the right thing." Uncle Ben always did the right thing. He was the only thing right in my life and now they've taken him from me! "Don't worry, we've cornered the scoundrel at the docks, we'll make sure your uncle gets the justice he deserves."

Peter ran up to his room. Aunt May didn't try to stop him, neither did the cop. They must have thought he needed to be alone. They couldn't be further from the truth.

≈*≈

Peter found the man in a warehouse, stalking him from above. A clatter, and the man whipped around in fear, brandishing his pistol at the empty shadows. Good, I want him to be afraid.

A webline shot out of darkness, and he was disarmed. A swinging kick to the face a second later, and he was disoriented. One second more and Peter would show him his disdain.

The confused thug pulled out a knife and nicked him with the blade, but Peter didn't care. He didn't feel a thing. He held the man up to the light-

"Thanks!"

The memory flashed with searing clarity. It was him, The guy at the arena! And Uncle Ben… He was out looking for me! Peter realized. He was worried about me, and I got him killed!Died doing the right thing? He only had to do the right thing because I was so wrong I couldn't see it. And the last thing I said to him was…

Peter looked back to the man. He got what he had wanted. Peter had gotten everything he had wanted… but at what cost? Harry was right: he didn't get it; he didn't know how good he had it. Now it was too late.

≈*≈

"Don't forget Peter: 'With great power, there must also come great responsibility.'"

I'll never forget those last words, Uncle Ben. I'll do it right this time. I may never be a hero, but maybe I can at least be a Good Samaritan. Maybe then, I can begin to make up for what I've done.

Peter shuffled back through the front door that night. The cops were long gone, but Aunt May still sat at the table, grief preventing any hope of sleep. No words were spoken, they just held each other, whatever had happened earlier that day didn't need to be hashed out, all was forgiven. Right now, all they had left was each other, and that's all that mattered.

≈*≈

The letter came a few days later:

Congratulations, Peter Parker, you have far exceeded all of our expectations and we are pleased to announce that you've been accepted with honors to the U.A. Support Course as a foreign exchange student! Enclosed you'l—

Screw this! Peter thought as he ripped the letter in two. After all that had happened, he didn't even want to think about U.A.

"Peter? What is it dear? I heard a paper rip." Aunt May walked downstairs, looking much better than she had in days.

"It's nothing Aunt May, just a letter from U.A."

"Oh, how exciting! What did it say?"

"Well, I got in, but what does it matter now? I can't go to Japan and leave you alone, not now. Not after Uncle Ben."

"Now don't you talk like that! What's done is done. I'm not having you throw away your dreams for little old me. I'll be fine on my own."

Peter was shocked. "B-but Aunt May, who's going to look after you? What're you going to do about money? I've got a responsibility to you, Aunt May."

"For now, your responsibility to me is to go out and show the world just the kind of man your uncle and I raised. You're young, you have your whole life ahead of you. You have plenty of time to get yourself established, and then once you've done that, I'll let you waste some of that science whiz money on me. Besides, I have Anna Watson to look after me in the meantime."

Peter took a moment to think about it. He really didn't have any reason to go to U.A. anymore, that was something that Peter Parker had needed, and he had since decided to put that part of himself aside. Now, he was focused on being a web-headed do-gooder, the kind that helped old ladies cross the street… and left purse snatchers dangling from streetlamps. You know, normal public servant type stuff. No one had really seen him so far, but if he was really dedicated to this whole vigilante shtick, he was bound to catch public attention eventually. The 30th amendment and Super Samaritan Act protected normal people from being prosecuted for using their quirks trying to help, but it's not like he was just a concerned citizen that found themselves in the middle of something, like he had been at the arena. No, he was insisting on gallivanting under a persona without registration. Not like he could get publicly registered even if he wanted to. What would people think if someone quirkless suddenly developed powers like his? Best case scenario, the government would lock him up and experiment on him. And he didn't want to even think about what would happen if villains got ahold of him. And if he was in the crosshairs, eventually that would relay over to Aunt May. And above all else, Peter would not be the cause of her also getting hurt because of him and his quirk. He had to face the music, things were bound to catch up with him, and so long as he stayed in New York, it wouldn't just be him paying the price. I suppose this is also part of taking responsibility, huh?

Alright. Maybe, maybe, he could go to U.A. afterall. "I'll… think about it, Aunt May."

She gave him a warm smile. "Give me your hand, Peter."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "What's this about all of a sudden?"

"Just close your eyes and hold out your hand, dear."

Curious, he complied. Closing his eyes, he felt Aunt May gently hold his upturned palm before she placed something there and curled his fingers around it. Opening his eyes again, he saw a neat stack of cash in his hand.

"Aunt May… This is… This is Uncle Ben's…" It was Uncle Ben's life insurance money. I don't deserve this. She needs this. She already lost Uncle Ben, she can't lose the house too. "I can't take this money, Aunt May."

"Yes you can! You can take this money from me. It's what he would have wanted. He was so proud of you, Peter. He believed in you more than anything. You can't give it up now. Make it mean something. Go. Buy a ticket at the airport. Go, and don't look back."

Peter clenched his fist around the money. Uncle Ben's money. Between this and the prize money, he'd have no trouble getting to Japan, as well as covering any other expenses that might pop up as he was getting settled in. Of course, he'd leave a lot behind for Aunt May. Uncle Ben's money was hers to give, but he could do what he wished with the prize money. It was blood money as far as he was concerned, he didn't want anything to do with it. And it would do Aunt May a lot more good than it would him. I mean come on, I won't need 10,000 dollars as a foreign exchange student, right?

If he was going to do right by Uncle Ben, then he was going to do it right. A fresh start, for both Peter Parker and his alter ego. And if he was going to be a crime fighter, he might as well attend one of the greatest hero academies in the world. Even if it was just the support course, Peter knew better than most that good equipment could make or break a hero, his web shooters were a working proof of concept on that front already. And who knows, if he played his cards right, maybe he'd come out the other end an officially licensed hero.

Peter gave Aunt May a wry smile. "Well, Aunt May, looks like I'm going to Japan."

"Oh, Peter dear, I am so proud of you!" He didn't even try to resist Aunt May's elated barrage of hugs and kisses.

And that's how my story started. When I first applied to U.A., I did it as a way for Peter Parker to get a chance for peace in this world. Now, it's time to see if I can offer the world a chance for peace as the Amazing…

Spider-Man!