Spider-Man: Year One- A Spider-Man Fanfiction

Summary: Lonely sophomore Peter Parker was the most gifted student at Midtown High, until one day when a bite from a genetically modified spider turned him into something else. Now, he's just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Follow his journey. Rated Teen.

Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man

Chapter One

The insistent ringing of the security alarm alerted Franky North that maybe they should move a bit faster. Normally a job like this, a simple midnight smash and grab at a smaller jewelry store in Forest Hills, would not draw much ire from the cops who tended to patrol the larger establishments in Manhattan. And, to the best of anyone's knowledge, it wasn't like Captain America or Iron Man came down from their ivory towers to fight street crime. The pickings were ample in this area, unlike his previous stomping grounds. He didn't need a few more days in traction after running into the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Franky was a big guy, standing well over six feet and weighing in solidly two fifty, though most of that had turned to fat in the years since was a lineman for Midtown. The hair he had left was greying and concealed, along with his face, under a black ski mask. While not stupid, he never paid much attention in class and was able to coast by on his ability to protect his QB from harm on the field. Most teachers were hesitant to fail the kid who kept the quarterback safe and the team winning. Since then, he had made a nice living for himself as a thief and occasional stick-up artist. His size was an advantage in being able to muscle his way through any crew he was a member. And since he wasn't stupid, unlike a majority of the criminal element, he always ended up in positions of respect or authority. Usually the number two guy or a smaller crew leader in a bigger gang. He did have a rule though. He never took any serious, high profile jobs and stayed just under the radar. He didn't want the heat.

His partner, Reggie Smalls, was quiet and contemplative. Not the brightest light in the alley, but a solid and loyal guy. It was the reason Franky liked working with him. What Reggie lacked in raw knowledge, he made up for in his ability to gather information. He was the kind of guy with his ear permanently attached to the ground.

And it was this fact about Reggie that had Franky so worried as they gathered up their loot and made for the door. For the last month or so, Reggie had been hearing rumors of a costumed do-gooder who literally swung into ongoing crime. Franky wasn't sure if it was just an urban legend, but he really didn't want to find out. Call him cautious.

Franky pulled a pistol from his pocket and motioned for Reggie to follow him out the door. They had ransacked the place good and it was time to make their exit, loot well in hand.

Outside the door, Franky figured it would only be a few minutes until the cops arrived to check out the alarm and they needed an escape route. There were two side streets leading away from the store and if they spilt up, they could lose the cops much easier. Afterward, they would meet at their designated safe house and split the merchandise. Reggie was too cowardly to take it all for himself.

Plan developed, Franky tossed the bag of jewels to his surprised partner. "You go left down that ally, I'm gonna head right. The cops won't be able to follow both of us down those narrow streets. Meet back at the hideout in an hour."

"I don't know guys, that seems like a bad idea," a laughing, clear tenor rang out from above them.

Franky rubbed his eyes underneath his ski mask and looked up at the figure. For starters, it was hanging upside down from a rope or something, covered from head to toe in a red and blue costume. Underneath its arms was a sort of webbing and on its front was a large, back spider. The covering over its head had no mouth hole, but the eyes were expressive enough and seemed to confirm its laughing through their black outlines.

"And just who the hell are you?" Franky asked. Vigilantes were not a new thing to Franky, but outside of the Daredevil he had never met one before. "I've met the Devil and you hardly look like that Punisher fella I've seen on the news."

"It's the freakin' Spider-Man," Reggie hissed.

"Freakin'," Spider-Man responded. "I prefer friendly, neighborhood if it's all the same to you."

"Whatever," Franky sneered. "it's time to squash this bug."

Franky cocked his gun and fired off a quick round at the superhero, who contorted his body to an absurd degree to dodge the shot.

"A bug squashing line? That's new," Spider-Man snarked, landing crouched in front of Franky. From his position, Franky could tell the hero was much smaller than he with a lithe frame. The kind of guy Franky used to push around in high school.

"A bit on the small side, huh? I bet you pack one hell of a punch," Franky joked. Behind him, Reggie chuckled.

Wow, sarcasm. That's original," Spider-Man returned. Even with the mask covering his face, Franky was sure the smaller hero was rolling his eyes.

"What did you just say to me?" Franky snarled. He was getting tired of the mouthy, little hero. He needed to end this quickly.

"I take it you're not a Dr. Horrible fan? It's actually really good. Like one of the best things Joss Whedon ever... you know what? Forget it. Not the point. Listen, I'm gonna need you to give up the jewels and surrender."

"Yeah, that's really not gonna happen. I'd suggest you run along before you get shot," Franky responded, cocking the pistol he held in his hand again for good measure. "I'm gonna give ya to the count of..."

Before Franky could finish, Spider-Man reached out and grabbed the gun away from him. Crushing the weapon in his fist, the hero turned to Franky. "Next threat please."

Franky balled his fist and threw a punch, something the hero easily dodged. Another punch, this time with his off hand, followed and Spider-Man grabbed him, pulling Franky off balance and sending him tumbling to the ground. A thick white substance flew from Spider-Man's wrists and Franky found himself stuck to the ground.

"Huh? Get this shit off me," Franky growled, rustling under the webs unsuccessfully.

"Not gonna happen friend," Spider-Man responded. He then turned to Reggie, who was still holding the bag of jewels and looking very much the dear caught in the headlights. "So, what's it going to be?'

Wisely, Reggie dropped the bag and ran, tripping over himself in the process.

Sighing, Spider-Man shot out a few more webs, crushing Reggie against the brick wall of one of the neighboring buildings. "Not much loyalty among thieves is there?"

…

On the colder nights of the year, Peter Parker often regretted forgetting he left his window open. But, recently, it was a boon in his job as Spider-Man. For the last month or so, ever since the incident at Oscorp, he had been taking to fighting crime at night to honor Uncle Ben and the window proved to be a valuable time saver when needing to sneak home and protect his identity. It wouldn't do for one of Aunt May's neighbors to see Spider-Man crawling in her nephew's window.

Nevertheless, he still shivered a bit as he pulled his costume off and changed into some casual clothes for bed. The clock on his cell phone told him it was about one in the morning and he had school the next day. Looking into the mirror, he sighed. Recently, bags had begun to form under his eyes from lack of sleep and it wasn't something he could ignore anymore. He wasn't sure how much it mattered though, as no girl was willing to look at him at school anyway. Maybe, at most, as a passing science grade, but never in the way he wanted them to at least. And especially not Liz Allan, not with guys like Flash Thompson around.

Meandering around his room for a few more moments, he flipped open his laptop and set to finishing the last bit of Honors Calc homework he had neglected to go patrolling. He'd be tired at school tomorrow, but at least his grades wouldn't slip tremendously. If he wanted to go to college, he would most likely need a scholarship. His own admittedly impressive I.Q. wouldn't cut it outside of SAT prep.

"Peter, are you up?" a tired voice called from down the hall.

"Yeah... Sorry Aunt May, totally spaced on some homework I had tonight. I'll be done in a few minutes," he replied.

"Okay, honey, just don't stay up too late. You have school in the morning."

"Got it Aunt May, I'll go to bed the moment I'm done."

"You're just like your uncle in that way. He was always forgetting something," she continued, a wistful sigh evident in her voice.

"So you keep saying. G'night Aunt May."

"Good night dear."

Peter turned back to his computer and let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Since the death of his uncle, Peter had been especially worried about his aunt. She was only in her forties, too young to be a widow. And though Uncle Ben's life insurance had been plentiful, she still had to return to work full time as a dental hygienist to keep up with the bills. It was the primary reason Peter was going to look for a job after school tomorrow. She didn't need to be covering his wants as well.

Peter chuckled to himself. Needing money for a social life was expected of a normal teen from Queens, he was far from normal.

…

Clutching a skateboard to his chest, his school tote swung across his body from his right shoulder, Peter pushed through the crowds of his high school and into the main lobby. Midtown High was a catch all for many of the students of New York, providing an interesting study into the styles and likes of the average New York teenager. The popular kids wore designer tees and jeans, sporting some sort of tan from spending much of their free time at the beach. The girls, if they cared, often wore skirts that would guarantee their classmates eyes' lingered as they passed, but probably fell short of the lax school dress code. Some of the nerdier kids wore shirts with their favorite sci-fi shows and movies emboldened across the front; Firefly and Star Wars were particular favorites among this sect.

Peter himself was pale, from spending the last month of his summer in costume or in front of his laptop, and wearing a weathered Henley, faded jeans, and worn Converse. His brown hair was shaggy and mopped falling in front of his glasses, the lenses of which he had replaced with fakes since he didn't need them anymore. In essence, Peter was like every other nondescript student in his school, if a bit shorter than average.

"Hey, Pete!"

Pushing his way through the throng as well was Peter's best friend Harry Osborn. Harry, unlike the unkempt Peter, was dressed fashionably. He wore his red hair swept to the left and shorter on the sides. He had decided to forgo glasses and contacts and opt for laser surgery to correct his eye problems. And his clothes were always straight out of a Paris magazine of some sort. The problem was in the way Harry carried himself. These clothes that were, in theory, supposed to boost his confidence, detracted from Harry and made him seem like a little brother trying to be his older brother. Not that Peter would ever mention it to his friend. With a father like Norman Osborn, it was no wonder Harry acted the way he did.

"Harry," Pete responded, forgoing his friend's attempt at some kind of complicated handshake and merely continuing to push through the crowd to get to his locker.

"Did ya see the classic Who marathon last night? I love the Third Doctor, much more action oriented than the rest of them," his friend continued, leaning against a neighboring locker as Peter dialed in his combination.

"Must have missed it. Besides, the Fourth Doctor is much cooler. Everyone knows that," Peter replied, shoving his tote in his locker and grabbing his books for his first period Honors English class.

"Come on man! The Third's episodes felt like an old marital arts movie. Nothing beats that."

"The Fourth's run was fun. More fun than even any of the new doctors. There's really not a comparison. You could tell Tom Baker was having the time of life during filming. Pertwee seemed so stiff and..." Peter trailed off.

"British?" Harry asked.

"Exactly."

"But that's what makes it great. He was like an alien James Bond."

"He wasn't alien enough. I could see him existing in something like Downton Abbey."

"Pssh... what do you know?"

"Judging by our relative grades, a lot more than you."

"Yes, Peter Parker the resident genius. We've all heard it befo... hey, crush alert at your three," Harry started, his head swiveling around to follow a group of students as they made their way down the hall.

In the center of the group of students was a strikingly beautiful Hispanic girl with wavy brown hair and deep chocolate eyes. She carried herself with an aura of invincibility befitting the only sophomore girl allowed to wear the varsity cheerleader uniform and clung to the arm of Sasquatch in human form, the ever vapid back-up quarterback Flash Thompson.

Liz Allan was walking perfection as she and her posse slinked past Peter and Harry as if they were invisible, all the while Sally Avril chirped away alongside her.

Peter frowned. "Gee, Harry, why don't you say that a little louder. I don't think they heard you."

"Pete, they'd have to know we exist for them to hear us."

"Good point. But I think I'll take anonymity as opposed to being Flash's punching bag."

"Nobody's gonna overtly bully you Pete. Not with Eddie's declaration last year," Harry reminded him. Senior, starting quarterback, Eddie Brock had grown up next to Peter and considered him something of a little brother. At the beginning of Peter's freshman year, Eddie had announced, more or less, that Peter was under his protection. It couldn't stop any snide comments or looks of derision, but Peter was sure it saved him an ass kicking or two during his time in high school.

"As true as that is, I'd rather not have to rely on Eddie's threats to keep the meatheads away," Peter began, well aware of how laughable it would be to even consider any of them a threat now. "Besides, Eddie's graduating this year. Our insurance is bound to run out when Flash realizes this."

"I think Flash assumes everyone is on the six year plan like he is," Harry laughed. "It'll be fine. Just take it easy and relax for once. You think too much, you know that?"

"Uncle Ben used to say to the same thing."

Harry shifted uncomfortably for a second and Peter immediately regretted the slip. Harry hadn't lost anyone in his life yet, he had no idea how to deal with losing a father figure. "About that Pete, are you and your aunt doing okay? I mean, we haven't really talked about it since it happened," he trailed of uncertainly.

Peter waved a dismissive hand, trying hard to wave off both his friend's concern and the dull ache in his chest. "Yeah. I'm sorry for bringing it up. Anyway, I gotta head to Honors English. I'll see you at lunch."

Harry nodded uncertainly. "Yeah, man, I'll see you at lunch."

The bell rang above them and Peter watched as Harry scurried down the hall toward his French class. Turning in the opposite direction, Peter did the same.

End of Chapter One

Author Note: Here is the first chapter of my story chronicling the career of Spider-Man from newcomer to one of the best heroes in the Marvel Universe. I have used many different sources for inspiration in character development, but if you have any questions on why I decided to go in some direction with a character, let me know. As always, reviews are appreciated.

Each chapter will feature a character profile at the end as well.

Peter Parker/ Spider-Man

Age: 15-16

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

I.Q.: 190

Peter was bit by a genetically engineered spider and given amazing powers, including the ability to scale walls, strength proportional to a spider, superior agility and reflexes, and a spider sense that allows him to sense danger around him and act accordingly. Peter's natural coping mechanism is sarcasm, which is seen much more in his Spider-Man persona, but does occasionally surface in his civilian persona as well. Peter fights mostly by instinct and prefers quick movements, flips, and kicks to the brawler styles he runs into when on patrol.

Peter is a typical nerd, having few friends outside of Harry Osborn and Eddie Brock. Most of the other students are put off by his intelligence and his willingness to answer questions in class. It also doesn't help that Peter has a bit of an ego when it comes to his grades and those he believes aren't close to his level. Peter also has a huge crush on Liz Allan and despises her boyfriend Flash Thompson.

Easily the most brilliant student at Midtown High. Peter is naturally talented in most academic fields, but excels in biology and engineering. He also has a strong interest in webs he uses were designed by himself and made from chemicals he had lying around his room. He was taught to sow by his aunt, though he would never admit it, and created his own costume from material he was able to duplicate after seeing some of Oscorp's designs for fire fighters.