The sky had turned a smoky gray as clouds hovered low over Queens. Nathan's sneakers crunched against broken glass and twisted metal as he and Peter stepped into the junkyard. Rusted cars, splintered fencing, and heaps of mechanical scraps surrounded them like a metallic jungle. The air smelled of oil, wet leaves, and old iron.
Nathan glanced around, uncertain. "Are you sure this is the best place to do this?"
Peter shrugged, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "No one ever comes here. Plus, if you wreck anything, who's gonna notice?"
Nathan nodded and took a deep breath. His body still buzzed with energy and it was raw, pulsing, barely contained. He walked up to a beat-up, two-door sedan. Its blue paint was faded and peeling, the hood popped up like a gaping mouth.
Peter crossed his arms. "Try lifting that."
Nathan raised a brow. "You serious?"
Peter smirked. "Spiders can lift up to ten times their body weight. You weigh, what, like 170? You should be able to lift over a ton easily."
Nathan took a breath and gripped the front bumper with both hands. With a sharp exhale and one fluid motion, he hoisted the car off the ground like it was made of foam. His eyes widened, muscles flexing under his jacket.
Peter's jaw dropped. "Dude! That's insane!"
Nathan carefully set the car back down. "It felt like picking up a bike. This is… something else."
He then noticed something on his wrist, a tiny, dark slit like a minuscule opening near his vein. His instincts sparked again. It was subtle, like a voice without words, a sensation guiding his fingers.
"Hold up," Nathan murmured.
He raised his hand and adjusted his fingers with his middle and ring bent inward, pinky and index extended, thumb out. Just like something he'd seen in a comic. The moment he tensed his wrist, a web shot out with a soft thwip, attaching to the hood of a nearby junk truck. The web sparkled slightly in the dim light.
"Whoa!" Nathan yelped, nearly falling backward.
Peter's eyes lit up. "Organic webbing?! You've gotta be kidding me! You're shooting actual webs out of your body?! That's…like next-level freaky cool!"
Nathan looked down at his hand, a little grossed out but more fascinated. "I didn't even feel it… It's like… instinct."
For the next hour, they trained. Peter, ever the genius, helped Nathan refine his web shooting by setting up targets between heaps of metal. Nathan's aim was clumsy at first, shooting too high or too far, but with each try, he improved. His reflexes kicked in faster than he realized, and soon he was swinging from crushed cranes and flipping over barrels like a gymnast on steroids.
They finished with a final leap from a rusted school bus to the top of a shipping container. Nathan landed in a crouch, panting but exhilarated.
Peter handed him a water bottle. "Okay, so let's recap what we know."
Nathan took a swig and nodded, still catching his breath.
"You can crawl on walls," Peter began, counting off on his fingers. "Thanks to what I'm guessing are microscopic hairs on your hands and feet. You've got superhuman strength easyly ten tons. Probably more. Your speed is ridiculous. I mean, you outran Flash Thompson like he was moving in slow motion."
Nathan chuckled. "That was kinda fun."
"Your reflexes, agility, stamina, and durability are way past normal human levels. And that sixth sense you mentioned? That tingle in your head?"
Nathan nodded. "It warns me. Like, right before something bad happens."
Peter grinned. "We're calling it Spidey Sense. Deal with it."
Nathan rolled his eyes, but smiled. "Fine, Spidey Sense."
Peter continued. "And, of course, you've got enhanced senses. Sight, hearing, smell and probably everything."
Nathan looked at his hands again, then up at the sky. "This is a lot."
Before Peter could respond, they heard a scream.
"HELP! MY BABY! MY BABY'S STILL IN THERE!"
They turned toward the street. A building nearby and it was an old apartment complex and it was engulfed in smoke and flames. A crowd had gathered, some filming on their phones, others shouting or crying.
Nathan instinctively took a step back. "We should go. Cops or firefighters will handle it—"
Peter grabbed his arm. "Nathan. Listen to me."
Nathan hesitated, glancing at the burning building and then at Peter.
Peter's voice grew quiet, but firm. "When I first learned how smart I was… I didn't really get it. I just thought it was cool. But my Uncle Ben told me something. 'With great power must also come greater responsibility.' I didn't get it then. I do now. You have the power to help people so it's your responsibility to do it."
Nathan stared at the smoke, at the woman sobbing in the arms of strangers. A child's life. Just one life. But if he didn't act…
He looked around and spotted a costume shop across the street. Without another word, he ran.
Peter blinked then saw where Nathan was going and smiled.
A moment later, Nathan burst out of the shop with a red and blue mask pulled over his face, the fabric cheap and stretchy. He'd thrown on a shirt with a similar spider symbol on the chest. It was far from perfect, but it would do.
Peter watched as Nathan darted into the alley next to the burning building and crawled up the wall with practiced ease, disappearing through a broken window like a shadow.
Inside, the heat hit him like a wave. Smoke curled through the air, stinging his eyes. But his enhanced senses kicked in and he could hear the faint sound of a baby crying above the roar of fire. He followed it, weaving through charred doorways and cracked walls.
One door refused to budge.
Nathan growled. "Sorry in advance."
He kicked it in. The door flew off the hinges, crashing into the wall behind it. Inside, a child lay unconscious on the floor surrounded by smoke.
Nathan scooped the child up, cradling him close, and hurried back to the window. The fire had intensified behind him. There was no time.
He jumped from the window and landed in a nearby alleyway, shielding the child with his body. The baby wasn't breathing.
"No, no no no…" Nathan whispered, laying the baby down.
He began CPR, pressing carefully on the kids chest and breathing air into his lungs.
"Come on, kid. Come on… wake up…"
Seconds stretched like hours. Then, suddenly the baby coughed. Weak, but alive.
Nathan choked out a laugh and hugged the child tightly.
The baby opened his eyes and stared at him. "Are you a superhero?" he asked faintly. "Like the Human Torch?"
Nathan blinked. "I… I guess I am."
He carried the child back to the crowd. The mother screamed with joy and ran to them, pulling the baby into her arms, tears pouring down her face.
She looked at Nathan, overwhelmed. "Thank you. Thank you so much. Who… who are you?"
Nathan glanced at Peter nearby. Peter pointed subtly to the spider symbol on Nathan's chest and gave a small shrug.
Nathan looked down, took a breath, and said, "Spider-Man."
Before anyone else could ask another question, he turned, ran toward the wall, and climbed up to the rooftop like it was second nature.
Peter ducked into the alley as Nathan dropped down beside him, pulling off his mask. For a moment, neither spoke. Then:
"Dude!" Peter said, wide-eyed.
"Dude!" Nathan echoed.
Then together, "DUDE!"
They hugged, laughing like maniacs.
When they pulled apart, Peter was the first to speak. "So… how do you feel?"
Nathan looked at the mask in his hands. It was nothing fancy. It didn't even fully fit. But somehow, it meant something now. It stood for something.
He looked up at Peter and smiled.
"Like I found a calling."