Alright, Let's Do This One More Time...
Alright, alright, I know why you're here. My name is Lucky B. Parker and my dad was our universes one and only Spider-Man... until I was born. We didn't know it, but I had inherited Dad's powers thanks to the genetic wiring of the spider that bit him. The first 12 years of my life I lived like a normal kid; I went to school, got good grades, made good friends. Sure I occasionally got into a "normal amount of trouble" according to Dad, but all in all? I was a pretty average kid. The night before my 13th birthday, though, I didn't feel all that well. My body ached, my skin was itching like crazy, and I had a massive migraine. I went to bed really early that night, not even the excitement of a birthday could keep me awake.
When I woke up in the morning I felt good. Like, really good. My body felt brand new and my migraine was nowhere to be felt. Not wanting to question the magics of a good nights rest, I sat up in bed and blinked the grogginess away from my eyes as I stretched; my left arm going straight up in the air and my right one bent over to rest on my head. I grabbed my extended arm with my hand and itched lightly before I noticed. I felt more.. filled out than I remembered. There was more muscle in my arms. As soon as I noticed, a memory of Dad telling me the story of how he got bitten came to the front of my mind;
"When I woke up the next morning, I was super buff! I didn't need my glasses- something I'm glad you didn't have to deal with 'cuz hoo-boy they were a pain! Where was I? Right, glasses; I didn't need them to see anymore! I felt like a million bucks, Luck. It made all those nights sleeping at my desk mean nothing!"
My eyes widened and I immediately rushed out into the family room to find Mom and Dad. Mom noticed the change almost instantly, since less that 12 hours ago I looked like a short, scrawny, twig. Dad, on the other hand, thought he had failed to notice my 'growth spurts' and patted me on the shoulder, "Look at you Lucky! God I swear you grew overnight! It feels like just yesterday you were below my shoulders!" He turned to Mom with a smile on his face that faltered once he looked at her paler-than-usual face, "MJ? What's wrong?"
"Pete, I love you, but your observational skills are abysmal. Our son did grow overnight! For Christ's sake he's more muscular than he was yesterday! Doesn't that sound awfully familiar to you?" Mom tried to fight the small smile that had formed on her lips as she continued, "Lucky's got superpowers! Your superpowers, damn you!" Mom let her head fall onto the back of the couch with a sigh and patted the spots next to her, "Come on, sit down so we can talk about it."
So we did. We talked for at least an hour, probably more if I'm honest. Mom was the most level-headed one in the conversation, reminding both me and Dad that I had quite literally just woken up with these powers and that we shouldn't get too ahead of ourselves. Which we listened to! ...Most of the time! Dad was talking about all the things he could teach me, how he could introduce me to the freakin Avengers (properly, I mean. I've been in the same room with them a few times), and how him and Mr. Stark could make me a suit! Mom stopped us after that point, reminding us that it was my birthday and that we could talk more about this stuff later. Looking back on it now, I think she was kinda scared. The rest of that day was filled with birthday celebrations; cake, presents, Coney Island, the works. But like all birthdays do, it ended much too quickly; and I had school in the morning.
Sparing you the earfuls of Brooklyn Visions Academy crap, as soon as I got into our shared dorm I immediately bee lined for my roommate-and-best-friend Dylan Brock to tell him everything.
Dylan looked skeptical, "Wait so your dad gave you his spider genes? How does that even work? Can you do everything that he does?"
"The only thing I know how to do right now is uh- wait, hang on back up a little." I had taken a few steps back and Dylan followed suit. I prepare to show off the maneuver Dad showed me how to do last night; I crouch down, one hand touching to the floor for added stability, and jump much higher than I should be able to. Before getting too high up, I flip my body mid-air to stick onto the high ceiling of our dorm/lab/home. With a toothy grin on my face, I look at Dylan upside-down from the ceiling, "Pretty freakin' sick, right?"
Dylan's grin was just as wide, "Dude. Duuude!! This is so sick! So, what, does this mean that you're gonna do super-stuff too??" He snickered and shifted his weight to one hip, "Are you gonna be called 'Spider-Kid' now?"
"Ugh Gods I hope they don't call me that! It sounds so stupid! I should think of a name if I end up working with Dad..."
Our door opened up, "Who's working with their dad?"
Dylan smiled and walked over, "Hey Morgan! You like the new ceiling fixture?"
Morgan Stark, the daughter of Tony and Pepper Stark (and, not to brag or anything, mine and Dylan's best friend) looked up over the tops of her glasses and her eyes widened, "Lucky?! Oh my goodness-" She quickly closed the door and re-adjusted her glasses as she looked up again, "You manifested your dad's abilities!"
I dropped back down to the floor and nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah! Literally yesterday morning! Talk about an awesome birthday present, right?" I rub the insides of my wrists, "I don't know if I can shoot webs like him though.. Ed, throw something in the air."
"OR, let's not do that, and let's just test it on the wall first!" Morgan lowered Dylan's hand holding a measuring beaker and blew her hair out of her face, "If you can shoot webs naturally then you wouldn't be able to aim very well right off the bat, Web-Head."
"Ha-ha, whatever you say.. Gear-Head ." My insult is great, the looks I get from Dylan and Morgan don't say anything to suggest otherwise.
After Morgan put a red sticky note on our wall as a target, I made the same hand gesture Dad uses to shoot his webs but I kept my two middle fingers loose. Dylan blinked and retorted, "What are you waiting for, Luck? Do it!"
"Be patient!" Morgan slapped him in the stomach, "This is an important moment to him; he's nervous. My dad used to tell me about how Peter was the same way when he first got bitten." To clue them in that talking wasn't helping I cleared my throat and closed my eyes for a moment before sucking in a quiet, shallow breath and pressing my middle and ring finger to the heel of my palm. My skin itched intensely before a ball of white, sticky, web sprung from my wrist and hit a few inches above the sticky note and, upon impact, exploded in a very wide radius. All of us are silent for at least 30 seconds...
"HOLY SHI-"