A/N: Hey guys, Grace here! I'm so amazed to suddenly see a random ass spike in reads and support and I appreciate it so so much! Enjoy! Also I'm sorry if these chapters seem a bit slow at first but I'm setting up the universe and characters...hopefully.

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Year: 2016

Dimension: E-616

Reality: Abnormal//Query?Normal?... Status Unknown

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You trudged up the spiralling stairs towards your Brooklyn home on the fourth floor. The train ride had been long and tiring, your feet ached from walking around Oscorp and you couldn't get rid of the feeling of something crawling on your back. You kept itching and scratching and tugging at it but in the end, you left it down to your imagination. Puffed and exhausted you leant against the hand railing as you reached level ground.

"Bloody hell...If I don't get abs from this I swear..." You uttered to yourself sarcastically as you slid the key into its lock but only for the door to push open slightly with a creak. You took a step back and frowned. "That's strange." You pushed forwards and opened the door wide with your shoulder. The apartment was dead silent, and you could've sworn that you had locked it after you this morning. Your heart in your mouth, pulse racing, breathing unsteady. "Hello?" You called out tenderly and you pressed your back to the wall, readying your fists for an impending fight. You sucked in a long breath steadying your nerves before leaping out from hiding and into the lounge room. Poised and light on your feet. You scanned the room for any threats only for none to show, all except the pigeon tapping lightly at the window. You groan and stride over to the window, sliding it upwards you flick your hands towards the grey white bird.

"Shoo! Shoo! Argh, flying rat!" You slammed the window shut and dusted your hands off. As you turned on your heels you stopped dead in your tracks. David. Your foster parent. Sleeping in a drunken state, drool dripping from his mouth. Clean shaven and in a what was once a neatly ironed suit – now crinkled – David worked as an accountant for a fancy lawyer firm. When he wasn't in the financial district he could be found in hell's kitchen hitting up bars. So, to see him home this early was rare. But David wasn't a bad person – despite his minor alcoholism. At rare times when he wasn't gurgling around the apartment sometimes he'd say hello or even ask how your day was.

You clicked your fingers in front of his face several times before scoffing and crossing your arms. You marched to the kitchen and flung open the fridge, the bottles and jars clinking and rattling together.

"Hey yeah." You called out throughout the apartment addressing David but rather speaking to yourself. "My day was good, thanks for asking..." You began searching the fridge, collecting snacks and drinks to take to your room. "Met a new friend, he's names Peter by the way. Went to Oscorp. Made an enemy...How about you?" You closed the fridge door with a thud and walked past him. "Yeah, that's what I thought." You replied to the absence of words.

Slamming the door to your bedroom behind you, you headed straight for the window and slid it upwards. A pleasant breeze wafted throughout the small-ish room causing your curtains to go sailing for a brief moment. With a sigh you collapsed onto the side of your bed and shrugged your backpack off onto the floor. There it was again, that feeling, the feeling of something crawling up your spine. You shuddered and flailed to get your blazer off pelting it to the floor next to your backpack. Cautiously you peered over the side and scanned the ground only to see nothing. You shrugged and fell back to lay on your backside. Taking out your phone and browsing through the depths of the internet for the next few hours even though you knew you should've been doing some sort of homework. But for now, you'd take a hard pass on that.

The folds of your grey blazer moved and crinkled as a very peculiar arachnid made its journey towards the slit of light it spotted with its many eyes. Its legs scuttling across the wooden floor, it ran down the sleeve of the jacket and out towards the underneath of your desk. Weaving in and out of the laundry and scattered papers, running up the wall and nestling cosily in the ceiling corner where it began to spin a web, awaiting a time to strike. Stalking its prey...you.

Meanwhile, Peter Parker shut the front door to his home where he lived with his Aunt May and Uncle Ben. He swayed on his feet, wooziness churning his stomach and making his head pound with an annoying headache. He rubbed the lump on the back of his neck and groaned. He wasn't too sure why he felt the way he did, but he suspected that it may've been from the spidery carcass he found on the floor at Oscorp earlier that day.

"Peter." May greeted him warmly as she appeared from around the corner. "The table's set for a lovely lamb roast." She swooned over her cooking. The smell drifting through the house, sending any passer-by's mouth salivating...all except Peter. The smell that usually pleased him only made his stomach churn more. His forehead becoming clammy with sweat, his face paler than normal.

"I think...I think I'll pass on dinner tonight..." May's gaze narrowed as she studied his features closely, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Is everything alright Peter?" He squinted at her trying to focus his attention, his vision dipping in and out of blurriness.

"Hmm?" He adjusted his posture. "Yeah, everything is fine-great!" She grimaced suspicious.

"Well, okay then. I'll put the leftovers in the fridge."

"Thanks May." He smiled through gritted teeth before quickly making his way upstairs, shutting the door to his room rather quickly. He pressed his back against the painted white wooden door before stumbling over towards his bed. Dumping his backpack on the way and tearing off his clothes until he was stripped down to his underwear, the non-existent heat was overwhelming.

He lay between his sheets only to throw them off a minute later, changing drastically between hot and cold flashes. He considered the option of maybe telling some sort of medical authority, but he didn't want to waste anyone's time. Peter was too considerate for his own good. It was like having a fever, the worst one in the world. Peter kept falling in and out of consciousness, whether it was sleep or blacking out – he couldn't tell the difference. But come morning and everything would be different. His life would have changed...forever.

You slurped your noodles from the Chinese takeaway box as you sat curled up on the couch in front of the television. The bright light outlining your silhouette. Another figure sat on the far end of the couch – David. He sat quietly and undisturbed, enthralled in the show that was blearing on the TV. You leant your head on the back of the sofa after placing the noodle box on the coffee table with old newspapers and beer bottles. You sighed before turning to look at him.

"What'd you do today?" You askes a casually as you could. You never really asked him, but the boredom and awkwardness of no conversation was getting under your skin.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He snapped back not looking away from the screen, taking a concentrated sip form his beer. You instantly regretted asking and dropped the conversation.You just had to ask, didn't you?!  Silence fell between the two of you once more but suddenly, a groan came from the man next to you as he placed his beer on the table top with a clink. "Sorry." He muttered an apology which took you by surprise. "I'm not..." You sat up straighter and leant forwards, your elbows resting on your knees. "I'm not thinking straight."

"It's okay," even though it wasn't. You kept him out of your line of sight, rather focusing on the moving screen.

"My day – was fine." His voice strained with an almost anxiety. He swallowed and pursed his lips. "What about you?" Your eyes laid upon him, confusion hinting in their glassiness.

"I uh." This level of conversation was very unusual, pressing your hands down into the couch you shuffled backwards and brought your legs up, crossing them in front of you. "Good." A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "My day was good." Your head slightly nodding with your words.

"Good." The two of you looked away realising the strangeness of the normal conversation. You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were strained. Deciding against any more talk you pulled the quilt from the back of the couch over you and smiled small into it. David wasn't all bad, he had never apologised for anything he said or did but deep down you knew he was sorry. He wasn't also the most open person either, he wasn't always like this but something in his past had changed him and that was something you still were yet to find out. This was the first time he had said something nice, even if that was just how was your day or sorry.Small things mattered here, no matter the size – it was progress.

The credits of the show began to roll, soft comedic accompanying music drifted through out the Brooklyn apartment. You yawned and stretched your arms out tiredly before letting them collapse in your lap under the blanket. You wrapped the blanket tighter around you as you stood up, your bare feet pressing into the cold wooden floor. Shivers down your spine, the feeling pine needles pricking at your skin. The draughty room whispering and creaking in the wind, chilling the foundations of the brick complex.

"I'm going to bed." You announced as you collected the dirty containers and disposed of them in the bin. "School tomorrow."

"It's Friday...Saturday." David corrected himself as he checked him phone, the early hours or extremely late hours of the night changing the day.

"So, it is..." You slinked back to your room and fell backwards onto the bed, your head sinking into the feathered pillow, the sheets soft against your skin. Your gaze shifted out the window and to the faint stars hiding behind the clouds and smog of New York. Your scattered thoughts running through the day over and over again. But one thing that your mind kept coming back to was one particular exhibit at Oscorp, the one that interested you the most...well not the most. But the more you thought of it the more appealing and intriguing it seemed. Spiders. Not just regular spiders, but radioactive ones. Enhanced, increased senses – increased sensitivity to everything, reaction time, strength – everything. But once the scientific part of your mind calmed down you drifted off with a simpler thought – Peter Parker.

As the sun rose and the birds chirped against the faint noise of the traffic, Peter began to stir. A new and somewhat fresh feeling overcoming him, he felt different from last night, like his horrid fever had been cured and vanished out of existence. Like nothing had ever happened. He took a deep breath in letting his chest rise and fall, the sheets draped over him lazily, a leg hanging off the side of his bed. Weary eyed he stuck his hand out feeling for his glasses and pushed himself up. As he slid them up the bridge of his nose everything was suddenly...blurry?

"Hmph?" He grunted in bewilderment. He took them off and on, off and on. Comparing the differences. When he put them on everything was obscured but when he took them off, everything was clear. Compelled by an unknown force he headed straight for the mirror, he could see perfectly clear. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at himself, he turned side to side studying the new development of muscles on his torso, arms and legs. It was being like an athlete.

"W-What is...what is going on?" He held his hands out in front of then, turning them over and studying them closely – though no difference from before. And was he slightly taller? No, maybe he wasn't slouching for the first time in forever. "Okay...so, this is happening." He murmured to himself. He felt back to his neck remembering the spider bite. He knewthat spider wasn't normal, it had done something to him – or maybe he just sleep walked and worked out nonstop. He turned and craned his neck to try and get a better look. A large and red inflammation giving him the strong urge to scratch at its itchiness.

He took a step back and looked at himself up and down once more and placed his hands on his hips.

"Well...Now what Peter?"