Chapter One

When I woke up it wasn't to the sound of my fan blowing air, and it wasn't to the familiar smell of my room. When I woke up it wasn't to the grey walls and the cream carpet, with a stain of grey paint that was spilled years ago. I woke up in a small, single-bed, the sheets white. Above me was another bed. The floor was that fake wood, and the walls were an ugly green. The smell was off, and everything was quiet.

Where in God's green earth was I?

I looked around the room. It was smaller than my real room, with a dresser under the window and a desk against the only bare wall. A closet and the door to the outside of the small bedroom.

I ran a hand through my hair. Another difference. It was short, different from my longer, black hair. Who the hell was I? I swung my legs off the bed and planted my feet on the floor. When I stood I expected to be falling over, trying to get used to a body that wasn't mine, but instead, everything felt balanced. And it was damned satisfying. So damned satisfying. Perfect balance was something that I'm pretty sure no one had ever felt, but yet there I was, perfectly balanced.

My new body's feet were bare, and all I had on were pyjama pants, cheap by the feel of it. Then my upper body. . .

Holy hell, I was sculpted. Or really, this new body of mine was.

Who the fuck was I?

I rushed to the door and opened it. A door across from me I ignored, and I rushed into the hallway. I took in a breath and smelled food, either being cooked or already cooked, I didn't know. I made my way towards the smell.

The woman in the kitchen turned towards me, a small smile on her face. "Hey Pete," she said. "You feeling any better?"

This was Marisa Tomei. Or, well, a really good doppelgänger. Maybe not, though, because I actually don't remember what she really looked like. Maybe this Marisa Tomei was a bit shorter, or a bit fatter, or a bit longer in the face. But she looked like Marisa Tomei as Aunt May. Oh, fuck.

Then her eyes widened as she looked at my new body. "You're looking good?"

"Uh, yeah. I've been working out in my free time," I said. I mean, not the greatest lie. It was at least a little bit plausible.

Aunt May was perturbed though, and it showed on her shocked face. She turned back to the food that was cooking before saying, "Go put a shirt on. Breakfast is almost ready."

I went back to my room. I was pacing, my hands in my hair. Holy hell, I was Peter Parker. I was Spider-Man. Hoh, dear God, what did I ever do to deserve this?

I opened my closet with shaking hands, and I could feel the door almost being ripped off its hinges. Fuck. Did I already get bitten by the spider? I think so.

The shock hit me hard. And with it came memories. Not my memories, no, but Peter Parker's memories. They hit me like a fucking train.

I gasped in pain and felt like there was an icepick in my head. I sank to the floor, remembering things about Peter Parker's life. It was an intimate moment and something that I shouldn't have been privy to.

Literally three days ago Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider, that he crushed under his foot. When Peter had returned home he had almost eaten everything in the fridge, before passing out. Then for the next two days, the weekend, Peter Parker was sick. Fever-like symptoms. His temperature shot up, and he was faint and nauseous. Peter was in pain, waking up fitfully, and vomiting all over.

Then this morning. Peter Parker didn't wake up this time. I did, though. And I had all his memories and all of mine.

My head pain disappeared, finally. I grabbed a shirt from the closet and threw it on. Fuck me.

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Breakfast was an awkward affair. Marisa Tomei kept looking at me with suspicion in her eyes, and I kept quiet, not quite sure knowing what to say. Uncle Ben was already out working, so he wasn't there to mediate the two of us.

"So, Peter. Ready for school?" Aunt May finally broke the silence.

Didn't matter much though, considering I was thinking of what to say. Did I want to go to school? Not really. Aunt May really wouldn't like that, though, so I said, "Able, but not ready. Never ready."

Aunt May snorted. I grinned.

Fuck.

It was still second nature to joke around with Aunt May even though I wasn't really Peter. The memories of May and Ben looking after Peter were infectious, and the only bled into my system. I didn't want this familiarity because it wasn't mine. My smile fell off my face. Was Peter Parker dead now? All because I somehow ended up in his body?

I ignored it for now. I don't need to be thinking like that when it could mean me actually, literally tripping up, and tripping out. It was a fucking miracle that I wasn't already screaming my head off in terror.

"I'm gonna get my bag and go. Have a good day, May," I spoke after swallowing my last bite of breakfast.

"Alrighty Pete," May said. She was still working on her breakfast.

I returned to my room and grabbed my backpack. The perks of being Peter Parker was that he was a genius, so he never had homework. His teachers at Midtown High had tried to give him something to work on while at home in the first month of his freshman year, but failed to account for how smart he was.

Peter Parker was all sorts of smart.

So smart.

It felt pretty good having his brain.

I wish he were older, though. Eighteen would have made everything so much easier for me. But nope. Nope nope nope. I was a little fourteen-years-old freshman who's been at Midtown High for barely three months. Peter had gotten into such a prestigious high school on a scholarship and good thing too, considering Uncle Ben and Aunt May wouldn't have been able to pay for the tuition. Poor people and all.

I shook my head. No need to be rude to the poor when I was poor when I was who I was originally.

I shot past May as I entered the living area once again, throwing a wave over my shoulder and calling out, "Bye Aunt May! Love you."

Her reply was muffled after I shut the door but I still heard it all the same, "I love you!"

When I reached the bottom of the apartment building Peter had called home for the past three years, I paused. I really didn't want to go to school. But I wasn't who I was. I was Peter Parker, a young kid who needed his high school education.

The thing that was pulling me to skip today was the fact that I was Spider-Man. While it really wasn't a dream to become Peter Parker, it would've been so damn cool to have his powers. Absolutely nutty. Now that I had his powers, I was going to use them. As much as I possibly could. It was going to feel amazing.

I barely made it to the bus on time. The door to the bus was about to close and I first thing I did was shove my hand between the closing door. The driver shot me a glare before pulling the mechanism that opens the door. My arm was freed and climbed the few short steps into the bus. The first person I noticed was Ned, the best friend of Peter Parker. They met early on in the semester and became fast friends.

I made my way over to him, the aisle seat still being vacant. "Heya Ned," I greeted the boy.

"Peter!" the boy replied excitedly. We hadn't seen each other since the Friday before and when he called to see if we could hang out, Aunt May told him I was sick. "Feeling better?"

I winked at him, "You know it. Ain't no cold gonna hold back the great Peter Parker!" I threw out some fake gang signs as I sat down, and Ned laughed.

"Chipper much?"

I laughed. "I was sick, I haven't seen my best friend in a few days! What can I say, I just feel like today is going to be a great day."

Before Ned could snark me I said, "Don't snark me."

"'Don't snark me,' is probably the dumbest thing that I've heard come out of your mouth."

I threw my arms up in the air and screamed a bit, "Ahh! What did I say, Ned? What did I say?"

Ned guffawed. A literal, actual guffaw. One of the best sounds I had ever heard. I snorted in laughter, then we both broke down. Us laughing was easy. Peter and Ned were really good friends even though they only knew each other for a few months.

Wasn't that a damn sobering thought? Somehow, I took Peter Parker's best friend, his life, his aunt, and… hell. I stopped laughing and knew I was about to brood. "Shut the fuck up!" the shout came from toward the back of the bus, and I turned around.

The guy who shouted was a blond beefcake. Was this… Flash Thompson? That wouldn't make sense, considering that Tony Ravioli was Flash and not this dude. Who the hell was this dude?

I looked through Peter's memories and yes, this was a Flash. He wasn't Eugene Thompson, but his nickname was Flash, considering he was flashy on the football field. I spared a glance for Ned, who didn't look too surprised. Right. This Flash was still a bully. I focused my attention on Flash (Darren Woodsley, a rich kid), and said in my best New Yorkian accent, "Watch it! We're laughing here!"

"Yeah?" Flashy-boy was looking mighty annoyed. "I told you to shut it."

I snorted and let sarcasm fill my voice, "Great attempt. Rather eloquent. A round of applause for the fucking idiot in the back there, with the blond buzz-cut and fuck ugly clothing. I'm fairly sure jean had never been in style."

"Look at yourself!"

Wow. This guy was a knob-goblin. Heh, Spider-Penis's enemy, Knobgoblin. Either the main characters for a terrible porno or a terrible spoof. Either or would work for me, honestly. "C'mon buddy. Of course, I'm not wearing Gucci flip-flops, I'm not rolling in money. If I was, I would sure as hell not be wearing what you're wearing."

The other students in the bus were snickering, and Ned had a huge grin on his face. I threw up my hand for a high-five and the slap was damned good. Flashy-boy was actually embarrassed. His girlfriend was poking his side, whispering about how I had a point. His glare turned into a smile as his girlfriend finally got to him.

Aww. That was really cute. While Flashy-boy was a bully, he wasn't a huge douche. He had an ego problem, but his girlfriend really toned him down. They had been dating for two years by then, and they actually did love each other.

Thank goodness for real and well-raised people.

"As awesome as that was," Ned was looking straight at me, confused as all hell, "and that was really flipping awesome, but what was that? Peter! What was that?!"

Oh no. Right. Peter was never really this outspoken and confident. He was a nerdy kid. He made jokes and snarky comments, but he never said them to anyone but Ned.

Honestly? This was a make or break moment for me. Tell Ned about what happened to me, how I was bitten by a spider that gave me superpowers or let him find out later, months later, when he inevitably would. Unless I could make sure he never found out.

"I'm just trying a new thing, Ned. More outgoing, outspoken. Confidence is key? I don't know. What I do know is that we are hyper-intelligent young men with all of the future ahead of us. There's no point being social rejects forever."

Ned looked thoughtful, actually processing the drivel I was spewing. A smile appeared on his face, "Yeah. Yeah! I can get behind that. I'm gorgeous, you're okay looking. We can definitely become super popular and get all the girls."

I snorted. "Buddy, we aren't going to become douche-nozzles like Flash. And me, okay looking? What are you smoking?!"

Our laughing was interrupted by the bus coming to a stop at Mid Town.

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All throughout school, I only had a few thoughts. I was Spider-Man. I was Peter Parker. He was, is, one of the unluckiest heroes. People around him die, get kidnapped, get hurt. He couldn't ever live the Peter Parker life to the fullest, not without a guilty conscience. Yet somehow he did it and stayed at least a little bit happy.

I was a grade-a dick. I made fun of people. All sorts of people. Everyone. Not only because it was funny, but also because people needed to be made fun of. I was a dick, but not selfish. As much as I wish I was, I never had it in me. I was a dick, so I was always trying to get out of doing things for other people. The difference here was that I had superpowers. I had superpowers. I had the brain of Peter Parker. I had my conscience. I had Peter Parker's memories and the feeling that they brought up.

I was scared.

I was scared because I knew that I would have to be Spider-Man and put myself in danger's way. I knew that it would gnaw on my soul if I didn't go out on the streets and fight the good fight. I had to. It wasn't just the Peter Parker in me, it was the growing up with Peter Parker. My own conscience would never let me live a stress-free life, and I couldn't let Peter Parker down.

Yet, it wasn't a choice between Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

It was a choice of selfishness or putting my whole life into something that would eventually consume me.

The only correct answer was obvious.

I wasn't Peter Parker or the person I was before.

I was Spider-Man.

Fuck me sideways, this was going to hurt.

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Notes: This is an experiment. Take a really trashy idea (Power Fantasy, Self Insert), and try to make something out of it. And by make something out of it, I mean take on the role of Spidey and just get completely trashed on because fuck you Spidey. In all seriousness, the only real way this is Power Fantasy is that the SI (me) is in the body of Peter Parker. Boom, power fantasy. Yet it still is Spider-Man, and the enemies are now very much real. This won't be a story about getting everything I need or want. This story is most certainly a character study, based on having power and using it, or having power and not using it, and all the little things in between that messes a guy up.

As this is also an AU, I've changed a few things and I will be changing other things. The timeline is different as this Peter Parker is starting his Freshman year in 2011/2012. Most of Peter's high school life will stay the same. There will be many more characters introduced though, and if anyone has any kind of interest in this, y'all can give me a character you would like to see.

That's it. Say what you want about what I've written. Tell me if it's terrible, tell me if it's passing. Any criticism will be received. (Or, y'know, tell me it's the greatest thing you've ever read.)