A/N: New story, don't know when the next update will post. I've written five or six chapters but they're not in chronological order. I'm placing my OC (Hailey Thomas) from my other story Starcrossed in this one but Spidey isn't set in her dimension. This is a different Batmanverse from hers. She just happens to exist in this one as well.

Wake up

Wake up

Peter, wake up!

Peter's eyelids flew open. He was feeling disoriented and mildly perturbed by the dream he'd just had. He actually felt floaty as if he were still dreaming. He shifted in bed before he realized that he wasn't in a bed. He was in some sort of enclosure. It was filled with some weird gooey substance. And he was completely submerged in it. And he wasn't breathing. That was important. Very important.

Panic. Panic now.

Yup, he was feeling panicky. He immediately started to fight his way out because he needed to breathe. He kicked and punched but that wasn't working. He was just squiggling around in the same spot. Peter paused to think. Placing the panic on the back burner so to speak. In sudden insight, he swam to the edge. Because there had to be an edge, right? He found it. And it felt so gross. Like the inside of a cheek.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it.

He grabbed at the wall. His fingers slipped. He tried again. He pinched it in his hands and began to pull it apart using all his strength. His lungs burned with the lack of oxygen because of the exertion. He felt like he would pass out but then the wall tore. And Peter was falling.

He landed on the floor of a brightly lit lab. The jolt forced him to gasp. But his mouth was full of that gooey slime. He started to choke and cough until the substance was out of his mouth and throat and nose.

Ugh! Gross!

He took a few deep breaths once he could and his body started to tremble. He was cold. So, so cold. And yet. He was covered head to toe in the goop. The gunk that had once been warm was now chilling to the bone in the open air. Peter began to wipe the goo away from his face, neck, his chest, his abdomen…

Hold on.

Peter looked down at himself and realized that he was stark naked under the weird pinkish film his body was covered in.

Why am I naked? And why do I smell like a lizard that crawled out of a sewer?

He turned back to look at the enclosure he'd been in then he gaped. He'd been in some sort of chrysalis.

What is going on?

Peter didn't wait to figure anything out. Since there was no one in sight, he decided he should leave before whoever was holding him there found him and decided to give him another dip in the…

Yucky icky sticky concoction.

Peter, you're a scientist. Remember your molecular cell biology. The chrysalis is filled with rich fluid; i.e. a caterpillar digests itself, releasing enzymes to dissolve all of its tissues. But the contents of the pupa are not entirely an amorphous mess. Therefore, cutting open a cocoon or chrysalis before the species has time to fully form would result in botching the transformation and having caterpillar soup ooze out...

Shut up! I think I just threw up a little in my mouth. Not going to think about that. Not going to think about that.

Peter couldn't help but wonder if what he'd just undergone was some form of a weird sacrifice or ritual that some Spider-freak/god/entity was trying to subject him to.

Why couldn't I have been bitten by a radioactive raccoon? I could've woken up from hibernation inside a very dry and cozy den.

As if you wouldn't've found that to be any less unusual, Peter.

But still. Not as gross. And stop talking to me, you... you rational voice.

He shook his head and forced the lab door open. Luckily he still had his strength. He crawled up to the ceiling to stay hidden from view. He didn't want to be found out before he made it out of the lab. Not that anyone would recognize him since he was still covered in the chrysalis goop. The stuff was thick and didn't come off easily. He needed a towel or lots and lots of towels. Preferably a shower.

Peter crawled on the ceiling of the hallway and peered into any room he happened across. They were all offices with nothing he could use. Then, he found a locker room just a few moments later and slipped inside. And even though he knew it was probably a bad idea, he took the time to use one of the showers. It had great water pressure.

The better to clean you with, Peter.

Guh. I really hope there isn't some creepy witch waiting in the wings.

Just don't follow any bread crumbs or eat any candy, Peter!

Very funny. Figures that even my inner Jiminy Cricket has wisecracks. At least I no longer stink. I'm fresh as a daisy.

He pried open a few lockers once he was dry enough and found some scrubs that fit him. Unfortunately, the only shoes he found were a size too big. But after adding some webbing to the inside, they fit perfectly. He'd used his webbing automatically but now that he looked at his wrist, he didn't have his web-shooters. He pressed his middle and ring finger into his palm and he saw the webbing shoot out of his wrist. He stared at his wrist in awe. His webbing was organic. His own body was producing it. And his wrist, both of them now that he checked, looked like they were scarred over. But upon closer inspection, the skin was broken where the webbing shot out.

Interesting. But kind of gross, right?

I would think you'd realize that the time you spent in the chrysalis had something to do with it.

I didn't realize and I don't want to realize or think about it at all, thank you very much.

Though he didn't have time to ponder on his newest ability. He had to keep moving. He needed to get out of the building. He decided that now that he was clean and dressed, he could risk walking like a normal person. He just needed to keep his head down so that his face wouldn't be captured on camera. He hadn't set off any alarms as of yet. And the building seemed empty so far. He made his way down the hall carefully and quietly.

I wonder if this is how spies feel. But they'd probably be hugging the wall and looking anything but inconspicuous as they rolled or slid past any hallways. So then why did they do that?

Peter shook his head. Why the heck was he thinking about spies? He found an office that came complete with a sleeping lab technician. The man didn't even stir at his entrance. His head was leaning on his own chest while he snored and drooled in his sleep. From what Peter found on the computer, he realized that he was the main subject of whatever this experiment or observation was. According to the notes, the chrysalis had been brought into the lab three days prior. But as of yet, they hadn't figured out what was inside of it.

What was I doing three days ago?

Think, Peter. How did you end up in this situation?

Peter's memories were a little fuzzy. The last thing he remembered was being in the hospital. He'd been badly injured from a fight with a villain. He just couldn't remember which one. It hadn't been one from his rogue's gallery that was for sure. But he distinctly remembered that he almost died. Or was dying? He remembered saying goodbye to Mary Jane. Then he'd…

No. It's not possible. I couldn't have died.

But you did. Remember, Peter. The man died but the spider survived. Or did the spider die and the man survive? Which one? It's one or the other.

No. No!

The lab technician snorted a little louder than his previous snores but didn't wake. Peter quickly started to erase anything they had on the mainframe about the chrysalis. And before he could even think about placing a rush order for a cleanup crew, the lab he was in beforehand was crawling with hundreds of spiders.

They're eating the chrysalis! And the chrysalis soup! Ew!

Everything will be gone before anyone's the wiser. Be grateful, Peter. They won't leave any trace of your DNA. Perhaps, Anansi is keeping an eye on you.

With my luck… she'll also be waiting for me to keel over so she could eat me.

Peter shook his head. He pushed the scientist to the side and after some tinkering found the security footage for the lab he was in and deleted it all. Three days' worth. Then he shut the cameras off. No need to keep the spiders on film either. That would set off questions and have whoever owned the lab draw conclusions to who was inside the chrysalis. He couldn't have that. No siree.

He'd been lucky so far. He grabbed a lab coat that had an ID card clipped to the lapel that just so happened to be hanging on the hook near the door. He felt keys in the front pocket. He looked at them and smiled when he saw a key fob. He just needed to get to the garage and find the lab technician's car. Then he'd be home free. To Mary Jane.

Remember, Peter. You told her to be happy without you. To move on.

MJ loves surprises! Like a 'tada! I'm not dead!' She'll love that!

Do you want to give her a heart attack, Peter?

Obviously not! But I'm not going to pretend to be dead. I have to talk to her.

Good idea, Peter.

I'm full of those.

Just don't jump out at her and she'll be fine.

Peter shook his head. He didn't want to listen to the voice in his head. Even though he was aware that it was his own voice. Everything would sort itself out when he got home. He would fix this, whatever it was that happened to him and apologize to Mary Jane for scaring the bejeezus out of her.

He found a map next to the elevators he'd come across. The map showed that he was in some sort of sub-basement. The car garage was only two floors up. He entered the elevator and realized he needed a key card to activate it. He unclipped the ID card from the lab coat and held it against the access control reader. It worked and he was on his way topside. Or was it garage-side?

That doesn't really slide off the tongue.

Once he was in the garage, Peter clicked the button on the key fob. The car didn't beep but the headlights flickered. Peter made his way to the car and after he was situated inside of it, he drove out of the garage.

I'm not stealing. Just borrowing it. I won't wreck it. And I'll even leave plenty of change in the meter. If there even is a parking meter where I end up.

The car theft isn't what you should be worried about. Look around, Peter.

Peter pulled over and got out of the car. As he looked around he couldn't help but gape. He was in a city. It was dark. It was gloomy. It was illuminated by many lights from skyscrapers on a skyline he didn't recognize. There were a few blimps in the smog-filled dark sky. But what took the cake was the Bat-signal that shone brightly in the clouds above the city.

Do you see it, Peter?

Yeah, I definitely see it, inner voice-me. We're so not in Kansas anymore.