Peter Parker dragged himself out of sleep on Monday morning. He kept his eyes shut, stretched his arms wide, and let out a massive, jaw-cracking yawn.
He opened his eyes. He was staring down at his bed.
Peter blinked. Gravity felt entirely backwards. He realized, with a sudden spike of adrenaline, that his back was currently pressed flat against his bedroom ceiling.
The shock broke his concentration. He peeled off the plaster and plummeted downward, crashing heavily onto his mattress. He sat up, shaking his head, only to realize his blanket was securely glued to his right hand.
What is happening? Peter thought, thoroughly confused. Did I time-travel six months into the past? I haven't gotten stuck to the ceiling since the week I got bitten.
He stared at the bedside clock. It was still September. He took a slow, deep breath, consciously trying to relax the microscopic barbed hairs on his fingertips so the blanket would drop.
He relaxed his hand.
The blanket didn't fall. Instead, Peter watched in absolute horror as his fingers, his palm, and his entire forearm simply vanished.
He could see the floorboards directly through his own hand.
Peter scrambled backward, his heart hammering against his ribs. He bolted into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He grabbed the edges of the sink and stared into the mirror.
As his panic peaked, the invisibility rippled and faded. His skin bled back into existence. The teenager staring back at him in the mirror was completely normal. No extra eyes. No six arms. Just a pale, heavily breathing Peter Parker.
Okay. The spider from Universe 42. It gave me new powers. He let out a shaky breath of relief. He wasn't a Man-Spider. But as he pushed off the bathroom sink, a hairline fracture spider-webbed across the porcelain basin.
Peter froze. He couldn't control his output.
He walked carefully back into his bedroom. He needed to get dressed for school. He pinched the brass handle of his closet between his thumb and index finger, applying what he thought was a fraction of an ounce of pressure. He pulled gently.
With a violent crack, the solid oak door ripped completely off its hinges.
Peter stood in the center of the room, holding the massive slab of wood. He carefully set it down on the floor. He tried to turn the bedroom doorknob to go downstairs, and the metal crushed completely flat in his grip like cheap tinfoil.
Right. No civilian clothes. He walked over to his desk and tapped the center of the metallic spider-disc resting there. The Stark-tech nanomaterial expanded instantly, wrapping around his body to form his red-and-blue suit. It was the only fabric he currently owned that he couldn't accidentally tear to shreds.
He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his masked temples. Why hadn't these powers activated while he was on the other earth? Why the delayed reaction?
Down on the street, he heard the familiar click of the Stacy family's front door. Gwen was heading out for school. Usually, Peter would already be out the window, swinging his way toward Queens Boulevard. Not today.
Peter slid his window open. "Hey, Gwen!"
Gwen paused on the sidewalk and looked up. "Hey. What's wrong?"
"It's a little complicated," Peter called down, keeping his voice low. He carefully hooked his house keys onto his finger and dropped them down to her. Gwen caught them effortlessly. "Can you open my front door and come up? If I touch the doorknob, I'm going to turn it into splinters."
Gwen stared up at him, her expression deadpan. She sighed, unlocked the Parker residence, and walked up the stairs.
She stopped on the top landing. Peter was standing in the hallway in his full Spider-Man uniform.
"What happened?" Gwen asked, crossing her arms.
"Well... long story short, I had a slight complication during my multiverse mission yesterday," Peter said, gesturing to his bedroom. He pointed to the crushed doorknob and the closet door resting on the floor. "I completely lost control of my body."
Gwen let out a low whistle of appreciation, inspecting the crushed metal. "Okay. What do you need me to do?"
"First, unlock my phone. You know the passcode," Peter said, keeping his hands firmly at his sides. "Go to my contacts. Look for the name 'Toy Store Owner'."
Gwen expertly unlocked the screen, scrolling down the list. She shot him a skeptical look. "Toy Store Owner?"
"If Aunt May ever looks at my phone, I can't exactly explain why I have Tony Stark on speed dial, can I?" Peter said. "Hit call. And put it on speaker."
The line rang twice before a familiar, snappy voice came through the speaker.
"Calling me on your first official Monday as an Avenger?" Tony Stark asked. "If you wanted to skip homeroom and hang out at the Tower, kid, you just had to ask."
"It's a little more complicated than that, Mr. Stark," Peter said, wincing. "Yesterday... I got bitten by a radioactive spider. Again. In another universe."
Tony's voice dropped its casual cadence instantly. Beside Peter, Gwen's jaw actually dropped.
"What?" they both asked in perfect unison.
"It's a long story. I'll explain later," Peter rushed out. "Bottom line, I can't control my strength, and I've got some weird new abilities randomly firing off. Can you send someone to pick me up? If I try to take the subway, I'm going to accidentally rip the subway car in half."
"Happy is already on his way," Tony said sharply. "Sit tight."
The line clicked dead.
Peter looked at Gwen. "I need one more favor. I can't walk out to the car in the suit. Can you grab my heavy winter coat and sweatpants and carefully put them on me? If I push my arms through the sleeves myself, I'll tear the seams."
Gwen held up the phone, her lips pressed into a thin line. She nodded slowly. "You owe me, Parker. Big time."
"Name your price."
"You are taking me web-swinging around Manhattan."
Peter sighed. "Deal."
Ten minutes later, Peter shuffled out of the house. He was wearing a ridiculously thick winter coat over his suit in the middle of September, his hands buried deep in the pockets. A sleek black Audi pulled up to the curb. Happy Hogan leaned over and popped the back door.
Peter carefully slid into the backseat. Before Happy could put the car in drive, the opposite door opened, and Gwen slid in right next to Peter.
Happy adjusted his rearview mirror. He lowered his sunglasses, glaring at Gwen, and then shifted his glare to Peter.
"She knows the secret, Happy," Peter said helplessly. "It's fine."
Happy didn't say a word. He raised his right hand, pointed two fingers directly at his own eyes, and then pointed them sharply at Peter. I'm watching you. He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.
Peter looked over at Gwen. She was sitting with perfect posture, a polite smile on her face. "Could you call Midtown High and excuse us for the day? Use your phone, please. Mine is too fragile right now."
Gwen dialed the school's attendance office. She seamlessly explained that Peter had come down with a sudden, severe flu, his aunt was out of town, and she was staying behind to make sure his fever didn't spike.
The Audi descended into the highly secure underground garage of Avengers Tower. Happy parked, got out, and opened the door for Peter, giving him a wide berth. He escorted them to the private executive elevator, hit the top-floor button, and offered one last, deeply unfriendly glare before the doors slid shut.
The elevator opened directly into the penthouse lounge.
Tony Stark was standing at the kitchen island, his back to them, pouring a glass of milk. "I checked the structural sensors when you walked in," Tony said without turning around. "You haven't cracked my floor tiles yet, so that's a plus. How exactly do you get bitten twice? And what do you mean by 'weird new abilities'?"
Tony turned around, holding out the glass of milk. He stopped, his eyes locking onto the blonde teenager standing next to Peter.
"Oh," Tony said, his eyebrows shooting up. He smoothly bypassed Peter entirely and handed the glass of milk directly to Gwen.
"Thank you, Mr. Stark," Gwen said, taking the glass. "I'm Gwen Stacy. Peter's neighbor and friend."
"I like her," Tony noted, pointing at Gwen before turning his attention back to Peter. "Alright, kid. Walk me through the symptoms."
"I don't know," Peter said, frustrated. "My spider-sense didn't warn me before the bite. When I was on the other earth, nothing felt different. I didn't get any new powers. I came back here, went to sleep, and woke up stuck to the ceiling. Oh, and my hands turned invisible for about thirty seconds."
Tony frowned, tapping his fingers against the marble countertop.
Fixing a genetic calibration issue wasn't impossible, but it was highly specialized. Bruce Banner was an expert in gamma radiation, and Reed Richards specialized in cosmic anomalies. Neither of them were pure bio-geneticists. The foremost experts in human gene-splicing were all currently on the payroll at Oscorp.
And Tony was absolutely not sending Peter into Norman Osborn's laboratory.
Building a genome-editing sequence from scratch at the Tower would take weeks. They didn't have weeks.
Tony's eyes suddenly lit up. He reached for his StarkPad.
"Kid, are you familiar with King T'Challa's queen?" Tony asked, pulling up an encrypted comms channel.
"Ororo Munroe?" Peter asked, blinking. "Storm from the X-Men? Yeah, what about her?"
"The X-Men's resident genius, Hank McCoy, is currently holed up at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," Tony smirked. "McCoy is the absolute best mutant geneticist on the planet. I'm going to have Ororo call in a favor and book you a checkup."
PS: Marvel Fun Fact (The Mutants & Royalty) In Marvel Comics canon, Ororo Munroe (Storm) and King T'Challa (Black Panther) share one of the most famous romances in superhero history. They were married in a massive, historic Wakandan ceremony during the 2006 Civil War storyline. As for Hank McCoy (Beast), he is one of the original founding X-Men. Despite his intimidating blue, furry appearance, he holds six PhDs and is widely considered one of the top eight smartest minds in the Marvel Universe, specifically specializing in evolutionary biology and mutant genetics.