Remember
He had made it. He thought he would be captured in the first 20 minutes. In fact, he had numerous close calls. But he made it.
Peter lay in his hideout, a tall, abandoned water storage tower. He had supplies there that should last him for a few weeks.
Moving slowly, he treated his numerous bruises and small cuts. Once done, he crawled under the black blanket that he had found lying around.
He was in deep sleep the moment he closed his eyes.
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Memories resurfaced as dreams. Who am I? Where am I? He wandered around in his memories.
That’s right. My name is Peter... Peter Parker is (was?) my name!
Cloudy memories came up, him as Spider Man, him working with other heroes. His high school life, M.J., Gwen, the people of New York.
He remembers Aunt May and Uncle Ben, the two people who he cared so much for. One who he tried so hard to protect, to keep away from his alter life but most likely knew all along. One who died that night for being the only one who did the right thing.
Why am I here? He thought. Actually, where even is here?
Peter let out a groan, and pried his eyes open. He was still in the water tank that he remembered sleeping in. He still had a nine-year-old body, with features that looked different than Peter Parker’s.
Ok, but why does he have two sets of memories!?
“Alright Peter. Calm down. You’re 9 for some reason, you’re supposed foster father was killed by the weird guys who called themselves the Kraang, you got bitten by a weird spider again, and now you are being chased by the Kraang because they want to experiment on you. Ok.”
So, talking to oneself didn’t really help. But he can do this.
He still almost passes out.
His head and body felt a lot better after sleeping for a while. He had felt the same way back when he was bitten by the first spider. It was probably him mutating again that caused the pain.
He tried not to think about why this bite was more painful compared to the last.
Feeling the need to sit down, Peter slowly lowered himself to the ground. But that didn’t really feel right. He wanted to hang like he often did as Spider Man. If only he had his web shooters.
Peter looked down at his wrists, where he used to strap the two devices onto. What he didn’t expect, however, was the tiny slits about an inch from his wrist.
Oh man, he thought, as he shaped his hands into the all too familiar way. Is it going to -- ew, ew! It did! Oh man! Gross!
On the plus side, the web that shot out of his arm felt sturdier than the ones he used to make. Though he would need more practice, his mutations would most likely cover the cost of the supplies he needed every time he broke his shooters. On the other hand, he actually needs to eat properly, now that he has these natural webbing.
Yeah, good luck with that.
Since it seemed that the spider mutant that bit him in this world is different than the one in his home world, Peter decided that it makes sense his mutation will be different. The spider back home (was it even his home anymore?) was made by a human, who genetically combined the species. He didn't know how the spider here came to be. It was expected that the aspects of his powers could be different.
He stood up, deciding to test out his new mutations to the extent the small space would allow.
Turns out, his senses are about the same, if not better. He could still climb up walls, and was as flexible as always. He sighed, as he pulled out a small mirror he recently found in the trash. Checking to make sure he didn't have extra eyes or anything, he found instead that his canines were sharper than normal. It seems to have grown into retractable fangs. He wandered if that meant he has some venom in his teeth? Not that he was ever going to use it on someone. It could be deadly. He wouldn’t risk it.
As he stretched his arm, satisfied for now with the results, he noticed a slight blue color on his skin. Looking closely at his arm, he poked the patch of blue that has seemed to have developed. He almost had a heart attack when his whole arm had turned blue and red, with web patterns circling over them all.
No way, he thought, as he saw a replica of his suit forming over his skin and cloths. It seems that he no longer had to make, or stitch his costume. Awesome.
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He didn't realize that he couldn't go around being the friendly neighborhood Spider Man until later that day. With the Kraang chasing him, he couldn't risk going out and exposing himself like that. They would come the moment he showed a trace of himself. Not only that, but there were no heroes in this world. Captain America? nope. Iron Man? nope. Thor? Hulk? Ant Man?? nope, nope, and nope.
He felt so alone.