New York City
The city glittered beneath the moon like it was showing off.
Traffic lights blinked. Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance. Wind whispered between skyscrapers and towering above it all, a massive digital billboard flashed the newest headline:
JUSTICE LEAGUE OFFICIALLY FORMED
Gods among men but they were currently being upstaged by the real reason we are here.
A red-and-blue figure flipped through the night sky.
"Tell me there's something better," he called to no one, voice echoing between buildings. "Go ahead. Try."
He spun once then twice as gravity was grabbing for him but before he snapped his wrist.
A webline shot out, catching a distant ledge. His fall became a swing. His swing became flight.
Inside his mask, Peter Parker grinned.
"How I Spent My Summer Vacation, by Peter Benjamin Parker." Peter thought as he was skydiving
He thought about it for a second.
"Actually… I can sum it up in one glorious hyphenated word." Peter thought as he swings through the air.
He arced over the streetlights.
"Spider-Man!"
He flips through the air and yells. "I am the Spectacular Spider-Man!"
He landed lightly on the edge of a rooftop, crouched like a gargoyle overlooking his kingdom.
"There's only one thing missing. It was his last night before school started and he really…."
Peter thought as he was interrupted by a distant alarm screamed through the night and Spider-Man's white lenses widened.
"There we go."
He dove off the building.
Two blocks away, a bank's side door hung open, alarm lights flashing red across the alley.
Spider-Man landed silently atop a nearby water tower and peered down.
"Two guys." Peter thought as he studied them.
One in a green striped shirt clutching a duffel bag and the other dressed head-to-toe in black, already backing toward the adjacent rooftop.
"Amateurs."Peter thought.
The guy in black bent his knees to jump but a web yanked him backward mid-leap. He slammed into the wall with a grunt before he even understood what happened. Another web splattered across him, pinning him there like modern art.
Spider-Man flipped upside-down from a webline, hanging in front of him.
"Hi."
He tapped a button on his belt.
A small spotlight popped up, projecting a glowing spider emblem onto the wall beside them.
The guy in green groaned.
"Oh come on. Not you again."
Spider-Man twisted slightly, squinting.
"…Marco?"
Recognition lit up his mask.
"Wow. We've done this what, three times now? Should I start a punch card? One more arrest and the next one's free?"
Marco scowled and swung the bag at him.
Spider-Man leaned back just enough for it to miss then Marco threw a punch and Spider-Man tilted his head. The fist sliced harmlessly past his mask.
"Okay, see, this is why I keep saying cardio…"
Peter fired a web at the dropped bag behind Marco, yanked it forward it smacked into Marco's face and Marco hit the pavement.
Before he could even groan, webbing pinned him to the ground.
Spider-Man dusted his hands.
"Sorry, Flint, gotta run. But hey tell me how prison is this time. Still got the mystery meatloaf?"
He shot a webline and launched upward, body soaring back into the night sky before either crook could respond.
Spider-Man laughed into the wind as he swung because tomorrow he'd be Peter Parker again. But tonight he was spectacular.
Next Morning
Peter woke to the violent, mechanical screaming of his alarm clock.
Without opening his eyes, he slammed his hand down.
A long, exhausted sigh slipped out of him as he slowly blinked awake and stared at the shattered plastic beneath his palm. Tiny metal springs poked out from the cracked casing like broken bones. He lifted his hand, studied the damage for a second, then muttered, "Yep. That one's dead too."
He reached over, opened the drawer in his nightstand, and dropped the remains inside with the others. The drawer was practically a graveyard of alarm clocks.
Peter dragged himself out of bed, shoulders heavy, muscles sore from last night's patrol. Being spectacular apparently did not come with a sleep schedule. He shuffled into the bathroom, splashed cold water on his face, brushed his teeth, and stared at his reflection for a moment.
Messy hair with tired eyes. Basically a regular kid.
The kind no one would ever guess spent his nights swinging above the city.
After changing, he pulled on a brown shirt, layered a blue sweater over it, stepped into brown sweatpants, and slipped on his black-and-white shoes. Only then did he reach for the folded fabric hidden beneath his pillow.
The suit.
He hesitated for half a second before pulling it on underneath his clothes, adjusting it carefully so it sat comfortably beneath the layers. It had become second nature by now like putting on a second skin no one else knew existed.
As Peter stepped into the hallway, he heard Aunt May's voice drifting from downstairs. She was on the phone.
"I know, I know," she was saying softly, pacing near the kitchen table. "I'm just a little behind right now. I can pick up extra shifts this week. I just… I want to make sure Peter can still afford college."
Peter froze halfway down the stairs.
Her voice lowered, quieter now, fragile in a way she never let him hear directly.
"I miss Ben. Everything was easier when he was here."
The words hit harder than any punch Peter had ever taken.
His chest tightened, guilt pressing down on him like gravity. He swallowed, then deliberately tapped his feet loudly against the steps as he continued down so it sounded like he had just arrived.
May turned, quickly wiping at her eye before he could fully see.
Peter forced on a smile. "Good morning, Aunt May."
He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
She smiled back, warmth instantly returning to her face like the sadness had never existed. "Morning, Peter," she said gently, hanging up the phone.
She studied him for a second, then brightened. "So, are you excited to be a junior in high school?"
Peter nodded as he grabbed a bowl and poured cereal, the quiet clatter filling the kitchen. "Yeah. Totally. Junior year. Big leagues now."
The television in the living room was already on, morning news murmuring in the background. A reporter stood in front of a sleek glass building as bold text scrolled across the screen:
OSCORP — THE FUTURE OF TOMORROW
Peter glanced up at it while chewing.
The anchor's voice carried into the kitchen. "The rapidly rising tech company Oscorp, which launched publicly just two months ago, continues to make waves in both the scientific and defense communities…."
May tilted her head toward the TV. "Hey, Peter, isn't that the company you visited on that field trip at the end of last year?"
Peter nodded slowly, eyes still on the screen.
"Yeah," he said.
"Also where my life changed forever." Peter thought to himself thinking of Spider-Man.
He shoveled the last spoonful of cereal into his mouth and rinsed the bowl in the sink before grabbing his backpack.
May slipped on her shoes and looked at him. "Do you want a ride to school?"
Peter shook his head. "I'll walk. It's nice out."
She stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek before pulling him into a hug. "Be safe, Peter."
He hugged her back, squeezing a little tighter than usual.
"Always am," he said softly.
Then he turned, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed out the door.
Timeskip
Peter stepped through the front doors of Midtown High and was immediately swallowed by noise. Lockers slammed like cymbals crashing out of rhythm, laughter bounced off tiled walls, and the low hum of a hundred conversations blended into the familiar chaos of the first morning of school. The air smelled faintly of cheap cologne, cafeteria syrup, and freshly printed schedules.
For a brief second, Peter just stood there adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and taking it all in. Junior year. New classes. New expectations. Same secret identity tucked beneath a brown shirt and blue sweater.
He started moving through the hallway traffic, slipping past clusters of students with the same fluid instinct he used when swinging between skyscrapers.
Someone nearly collided with him while walking backward and talking to a friend, but Peter sidestepped smoothly without even looking, muttering, "Careful, time travelers are supposed to warn people before rewinding into them." The guy blinked in confusion as Peter continued forward, weaving through the crowd until he reached his locker.
He spun the dial, popped it open, and began pulling out notebooks he had carefully labeled the night before. Physics. English. Biology. He had just stacked them neatly in his arms when something smacked him in the side of the head.
"Hey!" Peter rubbed his temple and looked down at the balled-up paper that had bounced off him.
He turned and saw Clint Barton leaning casually against the lockers across from him, arms folded, grin wide and unapologetic. Clint's blond hair was slightly messy in that intentional way, and his blue eyes carried the permanent glint of someone who was either about to say something sarcastic or already had.
"Pete!" Clint pushed off the lockers and walked over. "How was your summer, man? Mine was basically a survival documentary. My dad dragged me hunting and camping for like six straight weeks. I can skin a deer now, which is not a skill I asked for, but I have to admit I'm getting pretty good with a bow. Honestly, give me a year and I might be able to take Green Arrow's job."
Peter laughed despite himself. "Yeah, I'm sure Star City is shaking right now. You should probably send him a résumé before he hears about your legendary squirrel accuracy."
Clint nudged him with his shoulder. "Don't mock greatness. One day you're going to be telling reporters you knew me before I was famous."
Peter adjusted the books in his arms. "Please, when you're famous I'm selling embarrassing childhood stories to the highest bidder."
As they started walking down the hallway together, Peter's attention drifted ahead and then abruptly stopped. A girl with bright red hair was standing near the lockers by the science wing, laughing at something one of her friends had said. She glanced up, caught Peter looking, and lifted her hand in a small wave.
Everything inside Peter short-circuited.
He froze mid-step, brain buffering, heart thudding far louder than it ever did during a rooftop chase.
Clint followed his gaze and immediately broke into a grin that could only mean trouble. "Oh no," Clint said dramatically. "Not this again."
Peter swallowed. "Don't."
Clint leaned closer, lowering his voice in fake secrecy. "So you're still crushing hard on MJ? You've been in love with her since middle school. At this point I think it qualifies as a long-term investment."
Peter's face flushed red enough to rival MJ's hair. "Shut up, Clint," he hissed, attempting to sound threatening and failing completely.
Clint cupped a hand around his mouth. "Hey, MJ! Pete was just telling me how….."
Peter elbowed him quickly. "Finish that sentence and I'm telling everyone about the time you cried during that dog movie."
Clint gasped in mock offense. "First of all, that dog deserved better, and second of all, you wouldn't dare."
The bell rang, cutting through the hallway chatter like a starting pistol.
"Biology," Clint said, already walking backward toward the science wing. "Let's go, Romeo."
Peter shook his head and followed, trying and failing not to glance ahead to see if MJ was heading the same direction.
Dr. Curt Conners was already standing at the front of the biology classroom when they entered. Tall, composed, and carrying himself with the quiet authority of someone who genuinely loved his field, he adjusted his glasses with his one arm and greeted students as they filed in.
"Good morning, everyone. I hope you all had a productive summer, because junior year biology will not be taking it easy on you."
Peter slid into his seat and immediately realized Clint had executed a betrayal of historic proportions.
MJ was sitting beside him.
Peter shot Clint a glare sharp enough to cut glass.
Clint simply winked and took the seat behind them.
"Wow," Peter muttered under his breath. "Et tu, Barton?"
MJ turned slightly, amused. "Did you just quote Shakespeare over a seating arrangement?"
Peter straightened awkwardly. "No. I mean, maybe. It's a reflex thing. Very nerd-forward coping mechanism."
She laughed softly, and Peter felt his nerves dial down a notch. Up close, her green eyes were bright and curious, not intimidating like his brain always made them seem from across a hallway.
"So," MJ said, glancing at the syllabus Conners was handing out, "how was your summer?"
Peter hesitated for a fraction of a second, running through the list of things he absolutely could not say. "Uh, pretty normal," he replied. "Hung out around the city. Did some… climbing."
She raised an eyebrow. "Climbing."
"Metaphorically," he added quickly. "Like, climbing the social ladder. Which I did not succeed at."
She smiled again, and the warmth of it made Peter feel like he'd just stepped into sunlight.
Dr. Conners clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention. "For our first project of the year, you'll be working in pairs. We'll be studying reptilian regeneration, specifically focusing on lizards and their remarkable ability to regrow lost tails."
Peter's stomach flipped slightly at the word regeneration.
Conners continued, pacing slowly. "You will observe behavioral patterns, cellular structure samples, and prepare a presentation on the evolutionary advantages of regenerative biology."
MJ glanced at the small enclosure on their table where a lizard rested beneath a heat lamp. "They're kind of cute," she said thoughtfully.
Peter leaned closer, professional interest momentarily overriding nerves. "Their regenerative process is actually incredible. The cells at the injury site revert to a more primitive state and then specialize again as they rebuild the tissue. It's like controlled biological time travel."
MJ looked at him with genuine curiosity. "You really like this stuff, don't you?"
Peter shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah. I mean, science is kind of amazing. It's like solving the world's puzzles, except sometimes the puzzles fight back."
"That sounds ominous," she said lightly.
He gave a sheepish grin. "Bad choice of metaphor."
As they began jotting down notes together, their shoulders occasionally brushing, Peter felt something settle in his chest. For a few minutes, the weight of secret identities, late-night patrols, and unpaid bills faded into the background. Here, he was just Peter. A junior in high school. A kid sitting next to a girl he liked, talking about lizards and lab reports.
Behind them, Clint leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself.
Dr. Conners dimmed the overhead lights slightly so the heat lamps over the terrariums stood out in a soft orange glow. The classroom shifted into a quieter, more focused atmosphere as students leaned over their assigned enclosures. The small lizard on Peter and MJ's table flicked its tail lazily against the glass.
MJ rested her chin lightly on her hand as she studied it. "Okay, so I'm naming him Reggie," she declared.
Peter blinked. "You can't just name the specimen."
"Why not?" she countered. "You're the one who said science is about curiosity. I'm curious what Reggie's emotional state is."
Peter tried to keep a straight face. "Reggie is a reptile."
"Reggie has feelings."
Peter glanced at the lizard, then back at her. "Reggie is currently contemplating whether we're food."
MJ leaned closer to the enclosure. "Don't listen to him, Reggie. You are respected in this lab."
Peter laughed, and the sound surprised him a little. It wasn't forced or awkward. It just came out naturally.
They began filling out the first section of their worksheet. MJ took neat, looping notes while Peter's handwriting looked like it had been written during mild turbulence.
"So," she said casually while sketching the lizard's outline, "you always this intense about biology, or is today special?"
Peter hesitated, tapping his pen lightly against the paper. "I don't know if intense is the right word."
She tilted her head. "You explained regeneration like it was the plot twist of a sci-fi movie."
He shrugged. "It kind of is. Think about it. Something gets damaged, and instead of giving up, it rebuilds itself. Stronger sometimes. That's… impressive."
MJ studied him for a second longer than necessary, like she was trying to decide if he meant more than he was saying. "That's a very specific appreciation," she said gently.
Peter looked down at the worksheet, suddenly very aware of how much that had sounded like a metaphor for his own life. "I just think second chances are underrated," he replied, attempting to keep it light.
She nodded slowly. "Yeah. They are."
There was a small pause, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt thoughtful.
MJ tapped her pencil against the paper. "You know, most people would just write 'lizards regrow tails' and move on. You're out here giving them a motivational speech."
Peter smirked. "Hey, if Reggie ever loses his tail, I want him to know I believed in him."
She laughed again, and this time she didn't look away right after. Her eyes lingered, warm and amused.
"You're different this year," she said.
Peter's heart skipped. "Different how?"
"More confident," she replied. "Still awkward. But like… strategically awkward."
He blinked. "Strategically awkward?"
"Yeah. Like you know you're awkward and you're weaponizing it."
Peter considered that. "That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"It absolutely was."
They both smiled.
MJ shifted slightly so their shoulders brushed again as she leaned closer to examine the lizard. "Okay, serious question. If humans could regenerate limbs, do you think society would be less careful? Like, would people take bigger risks?"
Peter's brain lit up instantly. "That's actually a really interesting ethical question. If consequences feel temporary, responsibility changes. People might push limits more because they think they can just recover."
She raised an eyebrow. "You've thought about this."
"Hypothetically," he said quickly.
She nudged him lightly with her elbow. "You live in hypotheticals."
"Hypotheticals are safer," he replied before he could stop himself.
She noticed that one.
"Safer than what?"
Peter hesitated again, fingers tightening slightly around his pen. "Safer than messing up for real."
MJ's expression softened just a bit. "Everyone messes up for real, Peter."
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Some people just get bigger consequences."
The moment lingered between them heavier now but more honest.
Then Reggie suddenly scrambled across the enclosure glass, making MJ jump slightly.
Peter instinctively steadied the tank with one hand. "Easy there, buddy," he murmured to the lizard.
MJ laughed at herself. "Okay, maybe he is plotting something."
"I told you. Reggie waits. Reggie watches."
She grinned. "You're weird."
"Thank you."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"I'm choosing to take it like that."
She shook her head, still smiling, and scribbled something onto the worksheet. "You know, I'm glad we're partners."
Peter's brain short-circuited again, but this time he managed to keep his composure. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. You actually care about the project. That makes it less boring."
He swallowed, trying not to grin too hard. "I can dial it back if you want. I have a very normal, very boring mode."
"I don't believe you," she said immediately.
He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "That's because it doesn't exist."
She laughed softly, and the sound felt like sunlight again.
Dr. Conners walked past their table, glancing at their notes. "Excellent observations so far, you two," he said approvingly. "Keep digging deeper. Biology rewards those who look beneath the surface."
Peter and MJ exchanged a look.
"Beneath the surface," MJ repeated thoughtfully once Conners moved on.
Peter nodded. "That's where the interesting stuff usually is."
Their hands brushed as they both reached for the same pen. Neither of them pulled away immediately.
It was a small thing. Barely noticeable to anyone else in the room.
But to Peter, it felt monumental.
For a few minutes longer, they worked in sync trading ideas, finishing each other's sentences and debating whether regeneration was more about survival or adaptation. The bell hadn't rung yet, but Peter almost wished it wouldn't.
Because sitting there beside her, talking about science and second chances, he felt something rare.
Normal.
He hasn't felt normal since he was bitten by the spider and for Peter Parker, normal was spectacular in its own way.
Author Note: Tell me what you think? Did you like I made Clint Peter best friend? MJ is his first love interest not Gwen I'm sick of seeing Gwen. Also here is the voting of the love interest
Cassandra Cain
Supergirl
Raven
Rose Wilson