Peter Parker: A Spider-Man Origin Story

The faint hum of the refrigerator filled the quiet apartment as Peter Parker sat at the kitchen table, the soft glow of a single overhead light illuminating the room. Uncle Ben leaned back in his chair across from him, a steaming mug of tea in his hands. Peter stared down at the faint spider-shaped scar on his hand, tracing its outline with his thumb.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep this from her," Peter admitted, his voice low and strained. "Aunt May… she's going to find out eventually. And when she does—" He paused, his chest tightening. "She's going to freak out. Maybe even blame herself."

Ben studied his nephew for a long moment, his face a mixture of empathy and wisdom. "You're underestimating May, Pete," he said, his voice calm but firm. "She's stronger than you think. But you're right—this isn't something you can just drop on her over breakfast."

Peter looked up, his brow furrowed. "So… what do I do?"

Ben leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You wait for the right moment. May's love for you is unconditional. But some truths… they change the way people see the world. They need time to adjust."

Peter nodded, though the weight in his chest didn't lighten. "What about my friends? Harry, Gwen, Liz… Should I tell them? I mean, if they find out another way—"

Ben's expression grew serious. "Secrets like this, Pete, they test even the strongest friendships. I'm not saying you can't trust them. But once it's out there, you can't take it back. You've got to be sure, and you've got to be ready for how they might react."

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I feel like I'm lying to them all the time."

Ben reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder. "You're not lying, son. You're protecting them. And one day, if you choose to tell them, they'll understand."

Peter offered a faint smile, the tension in his chest easing slightly. "Thanks, Uncle Ben. I'll… I'll figure it out."

In the sterile glow of Oscorp's high-security lab, Mac Gargan writhed in his containment pod. The energy restraints hummed with tension, barely containing his mutated form. His scaly skin pulsed faintly, the veins beneath glowing with unnatural light. Gargan's eyes snapped open, wild and filled with fury.

"Spider… Boy," he muttered, his voice guttural and raw. His hands clenched into fists, the metal restraints groaning under the pressure.

Norman Osborn stood in the observation room above, his gaze sharp and calculating. Alaric Kane stood behind him, arms crossed and jaw tight.

"His vitals are holding," a scientist reported, though his tone wavered with unease. "But his neural activity… it's erratic. He's growing more unstable."

"Unstable or not, he's ready," Norman said coldly, not taking his eyes off Gargan. "The instability is part of what makes him dangerous—and effective."

Kane stepped forward, his voice low but firm. "Norman, this is reckless. If he loses control—"

Norman turned to Kane, his expression hardening. "We need results, Alaric. Oscorp's reputation is on the line. And Gargan's hatred makes him the perfect weapon. We'll field test him and show the world that Oscorp can handle any threat."

Below, Gargan slammed his fists against the pod's walls, his roar shaking the glass. "SPIDER-BOY!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the lab.

Norman smirked. "See? He's already motivated."

The morning sunlight streamed through the school's windows, painting golden streaks across the hallways. Peter walked slowly, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his eyes unfocused. The chatter of students and the occasional slamming of lockers faded into background noise as his mind churned with lingering thoughts of the previous night's conversation with Uncle Ben.

What if Aunt May finds out? What if my friends hate me for lying? The questions circled in his head like a storm, each one heavier than the last.

He barely noticed Gwen calling his name until she lightly swatted his arm. "Earth to Parker," she teased, raising an eyebrow. "You've been in your own little world since first period."

Peter blinked, snapping out of his trance. "Huh? Sorry, I didn't sleep much last night."

Gwen smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. "Let me guess: you were up late overthinking everything again?"

Peter managed a weak laugh. "Yeah, something like that."

At lunch, he joined Harry, Gwen, and Liz at their usual table, though his tray remained untouched. He absentmindedly spun his fork between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the table as the weight of his secrets pressed down on him.

"You're quiet today, Parker," Gwen said, her voice tinged with playful suspicion. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "What's got you so distracted? Oscorp internship got you doing overtime already?"

Peter forced a laugh, shaking his head. "Just thinking about… stuff."

Liz, sitting beside him, tilted her head and studied him with soft concern. "You okay? You seem kind of… off."

Peter hesitated, glancing between the three of them. "I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Harry smirked and gave Peter a playful nudge. "You're not planning to build some crazy invention and blow up the school, are you?"

Peter chuckled weakly, grateful for the lighter tone. "No, nothing like that. Just… normal high school stuff."

Liz reached out and lightly touched Peter's arm, her warm smile disarming. "Whatever it is, you'll figure it out. You're pretty good at that."

Her gesture made Peter's chest tighten, and for a moment, he almost considered telling her the truth. But then Gwen's sharp voice broke the moment.

"Whatever it is, Parker, just… don't lose yourself over it, okay?" Gwen's piercing gaze held his for a moment, her tone shifting to something more serious. "Some things aren't worth it."

Her words hit deeper than Peter expected, echoing Uncle Ben's advice about timing and caution. "Yeah," Peter said, his voice barely audible. "I'll keep that in mind."

Liz exchanged a glance with Gwen, then gave Peter another encouraging smile. "Hey, if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me."

Peter nodded, offering her a small, grateful smile. But as the conversation shifted to lighter topics, Peter couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that lingered in the pit of his stomach.

Later that afternoon, Peter stood on a quiet rooftop overlooking the bustling streets below. The city stretched out before him, bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. The distant sounds of honking cars and murmuring crowds blended into a soothing backdrop as Peter adjusted his footing on the rooftop's edge.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he steadied himself. Stretching his hand out, he fired a web at a nearby chimney, the organic strand shooting out with a faint thwip. He pulled himself forward, his body moving with a mix of agility and uncertainty.

Peter leapt from the rooftop, swinging in a wide arc. The wind rushed past him, tugging at his hoodie as he aimed for another building. But his momentum faltered, and he stumbled upon landing, nearly sliding off the ledge before catching himself.

"Still not there," he muttered, frustration evident in his voice. He flexed his hands, feeling the faint tingling in his palms where the webs emerged. "You're supposed to be good at this, Parker."

He fired another web, this time using it to hoist himself back up. As he perched on the edge, his gaze drifted to the horizon. The orange glow of the setting sun painted the skyline, but Peter's thoughts were elsewhere.

"I want to tell them," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the soft breeze. "Uncle Ben, Aunt May… Harry, Gwen, Liz. But what if it puts them in danger? What if they don't understand?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with doubt. Peter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as memories began to flood his mind. He saw Harry's easygoing grin, Gwen's sharp wit, Liz's encouraging smile—and all of it felt distant, like a world he wasn't sure he belonged in anymore.

His thoughts shifted to Norman Osborn, his unnerving charm during the Oscorp tour, and the cryptic warning about curiosity. Peter's chest tightened. "Norman knows something. He's watching. I can feel it."

He clenched his fists, the cool breeze brushing against his face as he stood. His eyes fixed on the skyline, his resolve hardening. "I can't let them get hurt because of me. I just… can't."

Peter fired another web, testing its tension before leaping off the rooftop. The wind roared in his ears as he swung between buildings, his movements sharper, more deliberate this time. Each leap and swing felt like a step forward, a small victory against the uncertainty that had plagued him.

As he landed on another rooftop, the city lights began to flicker on, one by one. Peter stood there for a moment, the weight of his responsibilities still heavy on his shoulders. But beneath it all, a flicker of determination burned brighter than before.

"I'll figure this out," he murmured to himself. "One step at a time."