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**SPIDER-MAN

Tangled Web**

Chapter 2

(Forewarned and Forearmed)

Light was any good photographer's friend. It was the medium through which all visual information was transmitted, and when done right, it was the tool that turned the ordinary into extraordinary. While almost anyone could take a pleasing picture during the day, it was a much larger challenge at night. Exposure, contrast, saturation... not to mention the fact that the moon always looked smaller in a photograph than it did to the naked eye. Despite the challenges,though, it was the darkness that made the light seem all that much brighter.

Peter Perez crouched on top of a roof, looking out across the city. Every window was a slightly different shade. There were orange streetlights, cream colored headlights, ruby tail lights and blazing neon advertisements. As garish as that all was, the chaos spoke to the multiplicity of the people that lived there. They were all trying to go about their lives, making the best of them they could, unaware that something was simmering right below the surface, something Peter had seen, something Peter had to stop.

The eighteen year old rose back to his full height, the night breeze rippling through shaggy reddish-brown hair. Peter pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up to try and obscure himself before he raised an arm, compressed his middle fingers to his palm and launched a thick cable-like stream of webbing that sailed out across the yawning chasm between buildings of New York. Feeling it anchor to something, Peter pushed off of the roof and let gravity build his momentum. As he moved on the upswing, his other arm came up, sending off another web as he let go of the first. Swing by swing, arch by arch, Peter crossed the city in record time, reaching the edge of the Hudson Yards.

In the tug of war between history and advancement, the Hudson Yards neighborhood was clearly on the latter side. The massive redevelopment project had been going for several years, expanding midtown towards the Hudson River. The buildings looked like something out of a science fiction series and a sixteen story structure made out of interlocking staircases looked from a distance like a glowing metallic pinecone. Further down was the Manhattan West building, housing the Associated Press that had already started to report on the stories of a strange local vigilante, Spider-Man.

Peter ran his tongue across his teeth before he tugged his mask up to cover the lower portion of his face. His senses had been incredibly acute since he'd been bitten, but this part of town felt quieter. To many that would have felt like a relief, but to Peter it felt off. He'd grown up with the hustle and bustle of a city that never slept. His father Hugo had once joked that if Peter had ever gone camping, he wouldn't just need a white noise machine, he'd need one for each color of the rainbow to help him sleep. That was a bittersweet thought for Peter given the fact that he was about to confront his father's boyfriend about risking an interdimensional incident.

Peter scanned the path between him and his destination. He stood up, backed up a few paces and then ran before jumping off the building. A gentle thwip sound came as Peter shot a web out, catching one of the many dormant cranes in the area. His hood rippled around him in the wind as he swung, using two more webs before he came gliding down along the sidewalk, his feet pattering into a quick walk as he burned off his momentum. With a few glances around to ensure no one had seen him land, Peter slipped behind a few cement planters with juvenile trees, removing his hoodie and mask, slipping them into his backpack for safe keeping during his encounter. He really was going to have to figure out some sort of better disguise.

****

The interior of the Octavius Industries lab achieved what so few science and medical facilities could: it had remained spotless. The walls were a crisp winter white with slate gray molding. There was not a smudge, or a scrape of an imperfection on any wall. Every light source in the building was carefully adjusted to the same color temperature - a pure white with just a hint of blue. There were no paintings or pictures in the lobby, though the Infinity symbol emblem that indicated Octavius Industries and Oscorp's involvement was emblazoned large in the same slate gray as the molding. It was a utilitarian's dream, and in that way, it was Otto's dream.

While the lobby was crisp and clean, Otto's lab was at least slightly more lived in. The white and gray remained, though the room was broken up into segments. One wall was nearly all cabinets and countertop. One wall was an immense digital whiteboard. Another wall held screens, readouts and even light panels that one could attach transparency schematics or scans to similar to an x-ray reader from days gone by. Countless calculations were scribbled on the whiteboards while most of the screens showed operational diagnostics from the two functioning terminals. Schematics for the Vacuum Energy Exchangers were glowing from the light panels, cross sections showing the interior components of the curved arc emitters.

Otto moved from one side of the lab to the other, looking at a tablet in his hands and then up at one of the other readouts, comparing the data he held to the data that was being sent to him. The man peered through circular glasses, the lens crystal clear in the carefully controlled light of the lab. His dark brown hair was getting a little shaggy, his lab coat resting over broad shoulders and a stocky frame. His skin seemed to be getting paler and paler from all his time in the lab. He reached for his coffee and lifted it to his lips, sipping a little before grimacing. There were very few downsides to dating Hugo Perez, but the man had such a way with food and drink that day old cold coffee just didn't get the job done anymore.

"Doctor Octavius? Forgive the interruption." A gentle woman's voice said, coming from the intercom by the door. Otto reached over to tap a button on the corner of his desk.

"It's no bother, Rosalie, what is it?" he asked.

"There's a young man here to see you, a Peter Perez? I told him that it's after hours..." Rosalie responded. Otto gave a wry smile.

"Let him in. Science knows no schedule." Otto said. After a moment the door clicked, easing open barely enough for Peter to squeeze in. His rust colored hair was unruly, though the red long sleeve t-shirt he wore seemed to be fitting a lot tighter than it had days before. In fact, Peter seemed to have filled out in general. Despite his change in physique, his face was still soft and gentle, boyish and thoughtful. His Pacific Blue eyes found the doctor's gaze. "Peter, my boy! You're back up on your feet. How are you feeling?" Otto asked, moving to put a hand on Peter's shoulder, guiding him in. There weren't a lot of accommodations but Otto offered him a chair next to his desk to sit in.

"I'm fine, Doctor, thank you." Peter said. Otto slowed a little at the comment.

"It's Otto... You don't have to keep calling me doctor." Otto chided. Peter blushed faintly and nodded as he settled himself into the proffered chair. What had been unspoken was that if the relationship between Otto and Hugo kept progressing as it had, Peter was more likely to call him 'father' than doctor.

"I've recovered from the condition I was in when I returned, but we didn't finish our conversation from the hospital. How much do you know about the space in between the terminals? You said you altered the stasis field so travelers don't see what they're passing through but did you try it before altering the stasis? DId you see what's out there?" Peter asked.

"A scientist must be methodical, but an innovator cannot hide behind their desk. I was one of the first to cross that void. I've seen the path more times than I could count." Otto said. Peter's face was still determined.

"How many times have you seen it, the creature?" Peter asked. Otto's lips curved slightly.

"The creature... Is that what's supposed to be in the blurry image you sent me? Peter, we instituted the stasis to prevent people from getting disoriented by the journey and it is just as easy for cameras to be overwhelmed by the-"

"It knocked me out of the vacuum bubble!" Peter said, staring up at Otto, "I crashed in some dark building at the edge of the void. If you hadn't left an emitter there to get out, if I hadn't timed it to match the pulse of a passing passenger to ride my way back, I might still be out there. When I took my picture, that thing knocked me out of the path. It isn't even the only thing out there, I got bit by an insect." Peter said. Otto's dark brown eyes went wide. He said nothing for a long moment, though Peter could see he was digesting the information.

"I'm so sorry Peter... I wouldn't have dreamed that anything like this would have happened to you. I'm just so relieved that you're alright." Otto said, waiting a moment before continuing, "Have there been any after effects from the bite?" he asked. This time it was Peter's turn to remain quiet. Peter was staring at Otto, replaying how fiercely he had defended his actions despite the risk in the hospital, comparing it to the first automobile, the first airplane, citing that there were always risks.

"The stasis wasn't for the benefit of the passengers, was it?" Peter asked suddenly, "That thing... If everyone's dormant when they pass through, it can't sense them, can it?" the question was met with a sudden grin that Otto couldn't suppress, his head tipping forward as he stared at the floor and chuckled.

"Hugo raised a very smart boy." Otto said, looking back up to meet eyes with Peter, "It could care less about probes, sensors, cargo containers, even your average tourist... The old one only senses intellect, exceptional intellect. That is why it sensed you, and that is why it sensed me." Otto said. Peter hesitated.

"How sure are you that it won't interact with travelers in stasis? What if it gets annoyed with all these people and things zipping through it's living room?" Peter asked. Otto let out a grunt.

"Once the technology is perfect, we can figure out other paths, other dimensions..." Otto said. Peter's jaw dropped.

"You want to use it to go to other dimensions?" Peter asked. Otto's fingers tightened in frustration.

"Everyone thinks of dimensions as these stacked realities, this maddening multiverse nonsense that's flooding every movie and book... They've forgotten the lateral dimensions that exist right here in our own world! Physics outlines at least twelve dimensions that make up real space. Imagine if you were a two dimensional being with height and width. Everything you witnessed, everything in your entire experience would be how the world related to your sides. You'd have no concept of height, of depth, of other ways to navigate your world. Introduce one more dimension and it revolutionizes everything." Otto said.

"That's a very good sales pitch, Doc-" Peter paused, "Otto... But if that old one or whatever got mad that I took a picture or saw it or whatever, if it knocked me out of the path, what might it do to someone else? His question had been asked with earnest concern, gentler than the fiery passion and sense of betrayal he'd had in the hospital. Otto nodded slowly cradling the cup of cold coffee in his hands.

"You make good points, my boy, and I'll have to take it under consideration, look for more safeguards. It's no easy thing to contemplate, but I see your point." Otto said. Peter felt a great weight lifting off of his shoulders.

"Thank you, that's all I could ask for." Peter said, rising to his feet, "Thank you for seeing me, I know you're very busy." Peter said. Otto smiled, clapping Peter on the shoulder.

"Of course, any time... We're practically family after all." Otto said, walking with Peter towards the door, "Do you have a way home? Can I get you anything?" Otto asked. Peter shook his head.

"No, sir, I'm just glad you listened to me. I know you'll do the right thing." Peter said. Otto smiled as he held the door open and watched Peter walk out of the laboratory. Otto let the door shut behind him, waiting for it to seal completely before the smile drained from his face. His jaw clenched and his brows lowered. When he finally did turn, he took several long strides over to his desk and pressed a button. There were a few pops and clicks in the walls before a panel retracted to reveal the curved, copper lined bow-like arc of a VEX emitter. As the copper began to glow brightly, the lenses of Otto's glasses tinted and transitioned to an opaque black.

The doctor showed no sign of mirth as he walked forward, standing before the emitter. There was a faint ripple of air around his body as it was encapsulated and with a small pop of atmosphere, he was gone. The emitter slowly pulled itself back into the wall, the panels shutting to obscure it again. The lab was left in silence for several moments before the door opened and a woman in her forties entered, her honey-gold hair pulled back into a loose cascade behind her back. She entered to set a fresh mug of coffee down on the desk, retrieving the old one. She mildly cursed her timing, knowing that it would be several hours before Doctor Octavius returned.

****

As far as Hugo Perez was convinced, whoever had decided to celebrate the 'dad bod' was in serious need of therapy. After a double shift, he could feel every inch of his dad bod. His feet stung, there were stabbing pains in his thighs, his arms felt like rubber and his head felt like an old pumpkin that had been left on the porch too long. Hugo pushed himself up the last few steps to his apartment, using his key to unlock the door. While the front door fit snugly in the frame, it swung almost too freely once it opened. Hugo caught it before it bashed into the wall, shutting it behind him.

"You made good time! The Brussels sprouts are still too hot to eat!" Peter said from the kitchen. Hugo looked up, his chestnut brown eyes widening in shock.

"Mijo, what are you doing up? You should be resting!" Hugo said. Despite being adopted, Peter's eyebrow arched in the exact way his father's did.

"If I were resting, who would help you rest after your long day? Anyone working that hard should have some good fuel to come home to. Salmon, brussel sprouts and some roasted sweet potato wedges." Peter said. Hugo let out a soft moan at that, his dark mustache curving around his mouth as he contemplated the savory flavors awaiting him.

"Mi bichito, what did I do to deserve such a good boy?" Hugo asked.

"You brought him home." Peter said with a grin. Hugo chuckled as he draped his jacket over a hook by the closet and peeling off his boots. By the time he reached the dinner table, Peter had set out a glass bottle of beer along with a plate of steaming, well seasoned food. There was even a pair of fresh lemon slices resting against the edge of the salmon. Peter got his own plate ready and sat down across from his father. Hugo dug into the food, making all sorts of noises to appraise how perfect the temperature, texture and taste were. It was moments like this that reminded Hugo that all his hard work had been worth it. He'd led by example, he'd done everything he could for his son and his son had grown up into such a fine young man.

"I am sorry that I had to go to work when you weren't feeling well." Hugo said after a moment. Peter looked startled, shaking his head.

"It was fine, I felt better pretty fast. Besides, I know work doesn't give you a lot of flexibility." Peter said. Hugo nodded at that, inhaling a bit as he looked down at the plate before him. His son had prepared the food expertly, but the food itself had been purchased by Otto as a gift. It was a fresh lemon, the nicest salmon and the plumpest brussel sprouts he'd ever had. Some of the sweet potatoes were even purple.

"Otto was talking with me... saying that, one day, when we were ready to move in together, that I wouldn't have to keep working at the plant." Hugo said. Peter looked up at that, a complex series of emotions crossing his face.

"It'd be great not to have to work that hard, wouldn't it?" Peter asked. Hugo chuckled a little, reaching up to smooth his hand over his salt and pepper hair.

"It might be a little late for me to learn how to be a poolboy," he grinned. Peter groaned at that, pretending to double over in disgust. Hugo smirked, taking a sip of beer, "I've been working since I was sixteen years old. I might still find a job just so I don't go crazy, but it might be nice to dial back a bit, especially if Otto's almost done with his project." Hugo added as he thought about some of the fun things they could do as a family.

"I visited Otto today, actually." Peter said, "His lab is amazing... He's certainly got a lot on his plate." he said, starting to feel guilty that he had just asked Otto to reconsider his whole approach to his life's work. Hugo tilted his head a bit.

"You went all the way out to Otto's lab?" Hugo asked. Peter looked up and shrugged a bit before nodding.

"I mean, I guess my experience with VEX was a bit different than most. I wanted to make sure we were on the same page about everything." Peter said.

"And to think just a week ago he was trying to figure out what your favorite brand of shoes were." Hugo smirked, "He just couldn't understand that you wear them until they fall apart." At that, Peter blushed a bit.

"Well, his timing isn't that bad, they actually did fall apart." Peter admitted. Hugo groaned at that, then laughed, taking another drink of his beer. Any other kid would have been mining Otto and his attempts to buy Peter's affections. If anything, the attempt to curry favor had slowed down Peter's acceptance of the man that Hugo had fallen so completely for. They were certainly from different worlds, but Hugo knew that if he and Otto could conquer the culture clashes between them, Peter was going to love having Otto in the family.

****

The glowing red hand pulsed and crackled with electricity, the minute oscillations visible to Peter in a way they never had been before. The eighteen year old stood in a sea of other pedestrians, his rusty red hair and his yellow and orange splatter print shirt contrasting the more mundane monotony of the others around him. His eyes were slightly dilated as he studied the crosswalk sign until, at last, the electricity ceased and the hand disappeared. In its place was the gleaming white silhouette of a person in motion, just as the disgruntled pedestrians around Peter were now.

Peter let out a small breath across his pert lips as he fell back into step, crossing to the other side of the road before any of the taxi drivers got any ideas. With his dad back at work and with his conversation going so well with Otto, he was back to being a high school senior on a lazy Sunday with almost nothing to do - though the pickpocket currently stuck to a flagpole a few blocks back might have disagreed.

After a few more blocks, the crowd around Peter had dispersed enough that he could take a more leisurely pace, a slight smile crossing his lips as he both heard and felt a rhythmic base pounding from a car as it pulled up along the curb. The car was sleek, aerodynamic, but most impressive of all it was changing colors. When it had first pulled up it was a smokey metallic quartz color, but as it parked the skin of the car seemed to ripple and shimmer, an electric current riggering pigments and cells to take on an intense electric purple hue. The driver side headlight blinked off and back on as if winking before the tinted windows rolled down.

"Peter Perez... What's a soulless ginger like you doing in a place like this?" The cocky, self satisfied voice came from all five foot eight of the car's driver. The young man wore a simple gray sweatshirt and black track pants that belied his wealth, though a good portion of his pale bubblegum pink hair was visible from under the hood. The driver's skin had a rich, natural tan to it that practically glowed. His dark eyebrows were curved with mirth and his honey brown eyes glittered with mischievousness. Peter took in the sight of his friend and smiled with a sincere, innocent smile that cut through all of the playfulness.

"It's good to see you Harry." Peter smiled. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Perez, how have you survived in New York this long without any bite?" Harry asked with a smirk. He grabbed a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on before he got out of his car. The windows rolled themselves up, the music fell away and the seams on the doors were so perfect they seemed to disappear entirely. Harry rounded the car, pausing just long enough to rub a smudge off the hood with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before he stepped up onto the curb. Harry's jaw fell open and he reached up, lowering his sunglasses to look at Peter again.

"What?" Peter asked, blushing faintly. Harry was still standing there with his jaw hanging open.

"Did... Did you eat something you're allergic to?" Harry asked. Peter's brow furrowed.

"I don't know if I'm allergic to anything..." Peter said before remembering the spider bite. His eyes widened. "Is it a rash? What is it?" he asked. Harry reached up and poked Peter's pectoral. The jaw that had already been hanging open dropped another few inches.

"Fuck, dude, you're swole!" Harry said. Peter shook his head rapidly.

"No, I'm just... I'm a growing boy." Peter said. Harry's shock regained an edge of mischievousness.

"You're no boy, bro, you're becoming a man." Harry smirked.

"Shut up." Peter said, pulling his backpack up higher on his shoulder, "Are we going to get Boba or not?"

"Hey, give me a moment to adjust, my best friend looks like he just ate the lacrosse captain as a snack." Harry smirked. Peter frowned at that.

"I thought you liked to be the center of attention, maybe we should go back to your Oscorp Osprey." Peter said. Harry pursed his lips.

"You know, that's a good idea... We can put you in a real tight shirt and short shorts, do a car wash, I bet we'd make a lot of money..." Harry said.

"I don't know why I hang out with you..." Peter replied. Harry grinned.

"Because I'm paying for Boba?" Harry offered. Peter said nothing, crossing his arms. Harry winced a little, realizing he may have gone too far.

"And because I can get us into all the best conventions in town?" he added. Peter ran his tongue along his teeth as he thought about something.

"Well, today I was hoping we could talk about your cosplay skills, actually. Particularly, the costuming..." Peter said. Harry's eyebrows shot up.

"You're serious? Oh my god, there's so many possibilities... Amuro and Char, maybe? Or Peter Pan and Rufio..." Harry said. Peter grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him off the sidewalk and into the small courtyard around the food truck. A few picnic benches had been set out around the truck as well as planters with a little greenery for atmosphere. The truck itself held a large banner proclaiming itself 'BubbleOver' and the menu consisted entirely of bubble teas with a variety of boba pearls and different tea blends.

"I don't mean full on character costumes, I mean more like..." Peter trailed off, "If I figure out a design, could I like... commission you to make me something? Something high endurance?" Peter asked. Harry reached up to pull his hood back.

"You sure you aren't from some other dimension? Where's the meek nerdy boy that sees the world from behind his camera? What does high endurance even mean?" Harry asked. Peter exhaled, shaking his head.

"Nevermind, it was a stupid idea." Peter said, moving up to the counter, "May I please have the vanilla Chai with black pearls, extra milk?" he ordered. The mustachioed man behind the counter nodded, writing the order down. Harry squeezed up next to Peter.

"I'll take the green guzzler." Harry added, swiping his card to pay for both. Peter had already moved over to claim one of the benches. Harry jogged over, his designer sneakers peeking out from the cuffs of his track pants as he caught up to Peter.

"Sorry, I know it must have taken a lot to ask me. I'm just surprised by the new you is all. You're okay, right?" Harry asked, sitting down across from Peter. Peter slowly settled onto the bench, realizing that the fit was a lot tighter with how much his leg muscles had grown. Peter blushed a little more.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. The last few days have been pretty weird for me and I'm just getting used to everything." Peter said. Harry looked at Peter carefully.

"This about your dad and his boyfriend?" Harry asked. Peter's shoulders hunched a little.

"That's a big part, I guess." Peter admitted. Harry nodded, leaning back against the cast iron railing that ran around the food truck's courtyard.

"I know it can't be easy..." Harry said. Peter shook his head at that.

"I mean, I know what everyone thinks. I lost both of my parents, got adopted, lost my new mom... I mean, I guess I wonder about what it might have been like but this is all I've known. I was so little when it happened. I guess it's more that..." Peter hesitated, trying to think of the words.

"It's more that this is someone new?" Harry asked.

"Someone new that I don't know yet, someone that I don't know if I can trust, someone that I want to like, but I don't know what'll happen if we lose him too." Peter said. Harry nodded sagely, though he said nothing as the food truck owner's son ran over their teas, setting the drinks down. Even with the overcast sky, what light there was caught the invisible fuzz on his upper lip and cheeks as he flashed them a smile, his sleek black hair shining brilliantly as he returned to the truck. Harry let out a whistle, running one hand up and down over his right chest. Peter looked at Harry and then at the young man and then back.

"Harry, he's engaged!" Peter said. Harry held up his hands in self defense.

"All I was doing was looking, he doesn't even play for the same team we do..." Harry replied, leaning back forward to pick up his boba. As he sucked from the wide straw, the currents swirled the orange spheres at the bottom of the green concoction. It took Harry a moment to realize that not only had Peter said nothing, but his cheeks grew so rosy that they nearly matched his reddish-brown hair. Harry's eyebrows drew down in suspicion. "What... What is that?" he asked, his voice lower.

"What is what?" Peter asked, the sudden inquisition doing nothing to alleviate his embarrassment.

"This, this guilty himbo thing you're doing." Harry replied before he gasped, "Is that what the costume is for? You've discovered your first kink? Oh Peter, I'm so proud of you!!!" Harry said.

"I am going to pour this very nice, very cold tea all over you if you don't shut up." Peter replied. Harry chuckled at that.

"And here I was going to offer to have you and your dad fly first class with me to Tokyo for the grand opening of the next VEX console." Harry smirked. This time, all color drained from Peter's face, He looked up at his friend with no trace of mirth.

"What?" Peter asked softly, certain he had misheard.

"I know, it probably sounds stupid since the whole idea is to make air travel a thing of the past, but they can't use it to get there until they actually turn it on and-" Harry was cut off.

"Didn't Doctor Octavius talk to your dad last night?" Peter asked. Harry nodded slowly, not sure he was able to keep up with Peter's mood swings.

"He did, he convinced him that early adoption of the technology would bring in more investors and he completed the calibration tests for the next terminal." Harry said. Peter had fallen both still and silent, his lips compressing tighter. The hand that gripped his cup of boba had been motionless, though a thin layer of frost was forming around the edge of his fingers, the already chilled drink starting to grow more opaque as ice crystals began to form just beneath the plastic shell of the transparent cup.

****

There was nothing quite so magnificent to Otto Octavius as the beautiful contradiction that was the Hudson terminal. Irregular, asymmetrical panels of multicolored glass formed a protective shell to some of the world's most sophisticated, advanced and hardened metal structures. It was an inversion of expectation, but it was also a love letter to the man that had won his heart. The transformation of his concept sketches had evolved in leaps and bounds after meeting Hugo. Even now, in the midst of rapid progress, he had to take a moment to appreciate the construction of the terminal.

"Alright everyone, we all knew this day was coming." Otto said, his deep, rich voice crossing the structure, "Relays 42 through 616 are fine, but we have some outliers here... We're going to need more bandwidth and we need to increase the buffer. All three terminals have to be able to compensate for simultaneous arrivals." Otto said, looking around before he clapped his hands together, "Well? Let's get to it!" he said. The workers all gave their nods and headed to start pulling up the access panels that revealed the inner workings of the mechanisms.

Otto turned to move back to the console but his movements slowed as he caught a reflection of a very stern, very serious eighteen year old glaring at him from the corners of several different panes of glass. Otto had a rueful smile cross his lips as he turned to face Peter, the lenses of his circular glasses transitioning to an opaque black as the sunlight poured in around Peter. The irony of his timing, his arrival, his mere presence there... How was it that the man he loved so much had been balanced by such a thorn in his side.

"Peter..." Otto began.

"What, it's not what it looks like? Is that what you were going to say?" Peter asked. Otto's rueful smile grew even more rye at that.

"No, I'm sure it's exactly what it looks like." Otto admitted.

"We talked about this, we talked about the risks." Peter said, his disappointment tangible.

"We both acknowledged the risks, yes, but I haven't changed my position. This project means too much for humanity, for me, for Hugo." Otto replied. Peter's face tightened at the invocation of his father's name. He raised his hand, bringing his middle fingers together. A web shot out from his wrist, lancing out towards Otto until it stopped abruptly, hitting a surface that wasn't there. The web pooled until it was a wad before falling to the floor harmlessly. Peter's eyes widened in shock until he realized that two of the VEX arcs had started to glow when he had fired. With the attack subsided, they returned to their normal copper coloring.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, give us the room." Otto said without taking his eyes off of Peter. None of the other workers had seen the confrontation, but they weren't beyond getting an extra break. One by one they moved out of the terminal, squeezing past Peter until only he and Otto remained behind. The two stared at each other, each replaying what had just happened in their minds.

"You're experimenting with the stasis fields..." Peter commented.

"Oh, I'm a man of many talents, Peter... but you? You brought back a souvenir from your visit, didn't you?" Otto asked, looking down at the web on the ground before the grin grew far wider on his lips, "That vigilante on the news? That's you, isn't it? Spider-Man..." he whispered.

"I guess we have that in common, taking the welfare of everyone into our own hands." Peter said. Otto nodded at that, lifting his head slowly, his eyes still obscured by the black circles that shielded them. There was a sudden series of clicking and snapping coming from the terminal behind him. Peter watched as the rigid metal arches began to flex and contort, the perfect curved arcs bending and snapping. The gantry arms that held them wriggled and writhed, coming together before stretching out towards Otto, "

"The thing is, Peter, I have all the hands I need to carry that burden." Otto said, his jacket rippling as the suddenly flexible machinery slipped up beneath it, sinking into mounting points that had been obscured. With their new anchor point, four long metallic tentacles curved around Otto, doubling his number of limbs. The hair stood up on the back of Peter's neck as he sensed danger rip through him like an electric current. Peter pushed off the ground, springing with inhuman agility just as the air rippled where he had been. An errant wrench disappeared suddenly, swept up in a vacuum energy bubble.

"I'm starting to think you would have been the kind of step dad that would send me to my room just to get me out of the way..." Peter said from his lofty perch. Otto gave a dry chuckle at that.

"It doesn't have to be that way, Peter, we can still be a family. There's so much I could teach you, so much I could show you. You've gained new gifts. I could help you master them." Otto offered.

"You cannot master forces of nature. All you can do is minimize risks. You don't know enough about what you're facing in there." Peter said.

"And that is exactly why we can't stop now; we have to learn everything about it to minimize those risks..." Otto said, the smile on his face shifting slightly, "Do you know why we perfected the stasis bubble first, Peter?" he asked. Peter frowned, his danger sense starting to peak again. Otto's grin was almost malicious, "Because the first experiments were raw vacuum energy." Otto said. While he had taken on four of the arcs as his own appendages, the remaining arcs all snapped on. There was a sudden furious howl inside the terminal. Every piece of loose paper swirled and spiraled into the center of the terminal before vanishing in a white flash. Otto's dark brown hair rippled in the breeze, though his tentacles grasped onto the framework of the terminal to hold himself.

Peter felt his rusty red hair stinging his face as it whipped his pale flesh. He gritted his teeth, using every ounce of strength he had in his newly acquired abilities. He still didn't fully understand how it worked, imagining that some sort of tactile grip affected his fingers, but how could his feet keep him in place if he was wearing shoes? Between the distraction of how his own powers worked and trying not to get dislodged, Peter's attention had spread too thin until he felt the cool grip of metal slip around his waist.

Otto snarled as he flung Peter, plucking him off the wall and hurling him towards the center of the room. Peter held out his arms, sending two web tethers directly into Otto's shoulder. Otto snarled and growled as he skidded forward, one of his tentacles ripping the metal framework out of a portion of the wall. Colorful shards of glass went hurtling past Peter, slicing through the left sleeve of his red shirt before disappearing into the void. Peter looked around, trying to figure out what possible tactical advantage he could have. Winding one of the tethers around his wrist, he refocused and fired again. A thinner web snapped out and hit Otto's glasses. No sooner had the web made contact than Peter yanked back. As the glasses fell into the invisible event horizon in the center of the terminal, they flashed with the brilliant white brilliance of an unstable vortex.

The disgruntled, pained shout of the scientist was audible to Peter for only a moment before both he and Otto fell forward, pulled into the void. The howling wind died as the four remaining arcs fell dormant. The debris that had become dislodged settled to the ground, leaving the construction site in disarray. The computer console in the corner of the room was filling with red and amber alert codes, a litany of errors scrolling as the system checks tried to assess what had just happened.

****

Even when considering the great alien beast he had encountered, Peter's first two trips through other space had been tranquil compared to what it had been like traversing the space without a stasis bubble. He'd felt like he had been in a horizontal freefall, whirling and tumbling through clouds of orange and blue vapor until he blacked out entirely. The first sense that came back to Peter was a stabbing pain that lanced deep into his brain. Next came a heavy ache that filled his body, then the very clear pressure that came from his wrists and ankles... or rather, from the restraints.

Peter's dark blue eyes snapped open, though he did his best not to make a sound. His chest rose and fell as he looked around. It was similar to the long dark space he'd crashed into when he'd been knocked off course, though this space was a great deal cleaner and better lit. There were cylindrical light fixtures half set in the wall every six feet, the material itself looking like glowing crystal. The walls and floor were dark stone as well, each intricately carved with geometric patterns, glyphs and other shapes.

Peter looked around, then up at his wrists, realizing something had been wrapped around his web ducts. He tried to move but when he bent his wrists, the material tightened almost painfully. Peter tried to move his legs in turn, only to find they had been spread to their maximum extension and held there. He couldn't get enough flex to try jumping from where he was. Peter tried to shift a little in the shoulders, testing how much give his arms had. The experiment was rewarded by a sudden tightening of his restraints as two steel gray tentacles revealed themselves from the darkness, retracting back as their pincer-like grips only pulled tighter. Peter let out a groan of discomfort.

"I'd be careful if I was you, Peter, they have artificial intelligence, and they don't take kindly to anyone trying to outsmart them." Otto's voice came from down the hall-like expanse. Otto moved with a confident gait, having discarded his lab coat and having found replacement glasses. His own four tentacles undulated behind him, shifting and flexing in an almost hypnotic rhythm. The older man came to a stop in front of Peter, sizing the teenager up as he looked at the metal mesh on his wrists, "One of the first things I learned when I found this place was to be careful what I touched... but maybe I should have been a little more adventurous."

"At the risk of repeating myself, I think your adventures are why we're here." Peter replied. Otto smirked at that.

"Ah, but if you came all this way, I might as well regale you with the whole story...." Otto grinned. Peter groaned, letting his head droop.

"I don't think I'm ready for the whole villain revealing his master plan routine." Peter groaned. Otto's lips tightened.

"Who are you to call me a villain?" Otto asked, "Do you have any idea what we've accomplished in the short time since we've come online? Do you have the faintest inkling of what discoveries are waiting here to be shared with the world? Transcendental epiphanies, timeless truths, boundless wisdom!" Otto said.

"I think I have an idea about the one track you keep going around on." Peter replied. Otto made a clucking noise in the back of his mouth.

"You're right, of course you're right. Words fail..." Otto murmured, "You want to know what you're asking me to give up? Why not show you?" Otto asked, a dark smile crossing his lips, "It could take me decades to decipher the writings here, but I think you'll quite like the part I did uncover... It told of a guardian spirit, an insect, that warned all the other animals when danger was coming. It tried to protect them, using its senses to feel and hear and smell and taste what threats were coming... But warning them wasn't enough, it tried to defend its fellows. To be forewarned was to be forearmed." Otto said, enchanted with the sounds of his own voice.

"More words." Peter replied, though his conviction was half hearted. Otto's story was already ringing true. The spider bite had brought him heightened perceptions, an urge to protect the innocent that he couldn't deny. Otto reached up, running a hand down the mesh over Peter's wrist, looking into his fierce young eyes.

"Let's see if the legend was true..." Otto said, stepping back. The four tentacles swept around his body, coming up to either side of Pete. Each pair curved, bringing the arcs together before the copper emitters suddenly flashed into a gleaming orange energy. Peter cried out in sudden shock as his entire body felt like it was being frozen, burned, stretched and crushed at the same time. The maelstrom of conflicting sensation seemed to unleash a fizzing effervescence that traveled through his bloodstream, tracing out every vein and capillary.

"Raaaah!" Peter thrashed, tugging against his restraints, shedding sweat that soaked into his rusty red hair, making it stringy as it stuck to his forehead and neck. His fingers clenched and unclenched, the pain racking his body making him oblivious to the fact that his fingernails were growing longer, stretching into sharp points. The teenager's lips were curled in pain, revealing his teeth - particularly the fact that his canine teeth were growing longer and sharper as well, taking on a faint curve as they developed into fangs.

"This is the future, Peter, the future of a humanity able to adapt to any environment! Embrace it, feel it!" Otto proclaimed in his booming, powerful voice. Peter nearly hissed and snarled, the blue in his eyes oxidizing and taking on a brilliant orange hue as rich and multifaceted as the mysterious clouds that filled the expanse in this other space. Peter tried to shoot his webs but the mesh over his arm only made him cry out in pain instead, allowing his fangs more room to grow.

Unable to shoot his webs, Peter tried to exert his strength instead. He tugged and pulled and thrashed and stretched, flexing and extending and... in the midst of the pain and chaos, it felt so good? It felt good to flex, to stretch, to push himself. His chest was buzzing, soaked in sweat but clearly growing. His face twisted into confusion, feeling his heart beating as fast as a humming bird's. The shirt he wore strained and stretched over his swollen pectorals, the moisture from his perspiration making the garment translucent.

All data was fascinating to Otto, but seeing his prisoner changing like this was exhilarating. He reached up and tapped the side of his dark lenses, allowing them to grow transparent again. His eyes studied the rippling, shifting, almost fluid movements beneath Peter's muscles as his pectorals seemed to grow and grow and grow. There was a faint pop, a stitch in his shirt breaking free. It was followed by another, then a third until the fabric tore. The splitting sound was almost like a zipper running down as the shirt fell into tatters, revealing Peter's sweaty, phenomenal physique beneath.

His chest rose and fell, each pectoral practically a globe unto itself. His stomach was ribbed with abdominal muscles that any bodybuilder would envy. A dusting of rusty red hair crept up from the waistband of his painfully tight pants, tickling at his navel. Peter's biceps and triceps were as thick as Otto's neck, quivering with exertion in their upturned captive state, revealing a plume of rust colored pit hair that had not been there an hour prior. Peter was a hunter, a predator, a prime specimen... but as Otto watched, his massive pectorals seemed to ripple, dimpling and changing.

New dark spots formed on the lower curve of the pectoral. At first it was just pigmentation but the skin toughened, thickening, firming before a small nub appeared from the center of the two spots. The newly minted flesh emerged, erecting itself before firming as tight as the nipples above. As the changes rooted themselves back deep into the pectoral, the massive mounds of flesh further segmented, dipping in a horizontal valley across Peter's chest until, like cells, they had divided. Peter gasped out loud as his two pectorals became four. While his chest continued to change, the process seemed to shift to firming and strengthening what had just been created.

"Absolutely fascinating..." Otto murmured in stunned appreciation. Peter breathed heavily over his new fangs, the tips of his claws tracing lines across his palms that inflamed and swelled at the graze. Peter felt a pressure on the upper roof of his mouth just behind his sinuses, no doubt a gland to supply his fangs. The gleaming orange eyes bore into Otto's, then the tentacles that were inflicting this change on him. Otto remained there for a long moment, waiting for any other changes. When none came, the brilliant gleaming lights of the emitters faded back to copper and the tentacles retracted. Otto turned and stalked back off towards his makeshift workstation at the end of the structure.

Peter gasped for breath, the intensity of the field fading away. Sure, his chest felt amazing, but most of him just felt worn out... not to mention the incredible cramp in his armpits. The euphoric buzz of the change had likewise disappeared, but not the push and pull of his metamorphosis. Peter's eyes winced shut as he felt something stirring, something moving, something... pushing... He bit his lip to suppress a noise of discomfort, though that too almost made him scream as his fangs nearly pieced the flesh below his bottom lip. Still, it acted as just enough of a distraction from the fact that two new masses were emerging from the billowing muscles beneath his upper set of pectoral muscles and the shroud of shoulder muscles that had bulked outward.

At first the masses were but mounds, extruding outward as projections of flesh and bone. As they grew in, Peter felt an aching, numb heat from them. Extending outward at an incredible pace, the growths were long and cylindrical, crucially bending and shifting as they reached about the length of Peter's elbows. More and more sensation filled into the new limbs as they filled out. The pale flesh took on a more natural hue as blood rushed to the surface of them, pumping to the farthest ends where tiny digits began to form and grow. Contour and definition set in as his second pair of hands flattened out and widened, new biceps and triceps began to bulk out and the flesh took on a dusting of the invisible hairs that every human and quite a few spiders sported.

With great focus, Peter brought his breathing into a more regular rhythm. His brain stung with new synapses firing as he learned how to close his new fist, finding that they too had claws on the end of each finger. Carefully, Peter tilted his lower right hand downward, bringing his middle two fingers to touch his palm as the other fingers flexed. There was a faint thwip of noise as a sticky web shot out of his new arm, sticking to the ground. What happened next happened in the span of three seconds.

Peter's new lower set of arms reached up, grabbing the tentacles that restrained his upper arms right behind the knot where they split. He squeezed, crushing them with ease. On their way down, he pulled the metal mesh off the web ducts on his upper wrists. All four arms swung downward, punching through his leg restraints. He sprung forward from the wall, spinning back to let out a flurry of webs that covered the squirming apparatus in a lattice, keeping anything else from coming out at him.

A sudden pang of danger shot through Peter's neck and he ducked his head back just before a tentacle would have grabbed it. Peter's clawed hand grabbed onto the tentacle, but rather than crush it, he held on with a steady grip. The dark metal grew lighter as frost began to form around the clawed hand, spreading outward. Sufficiently frozen, Peter grabbed on and bent, snapping the tentacle off. Otto screamed in sudden pain, stumbling backward, going pale.

"What's wrong, Doc Ock, you don't like to be the experiment?" Peter asked, turning to face him, "Trying to give me presents to curry my favor, and when that didn't work trying to experiment on me?" Peter asked.

"I've given you this gift, and you still don't get it?" Otto asked, his damaged tentacle undulating while the other three looked poised to attack.

"What even was your plan? You made me a monster. How would that impress my dad?" Peter asked. Otto shook his head.

"This place changed me too, it allowed me to understand the gifts it held, including the living waters that let me change back." Otto said in desperation. Peter's face softened.

"But you didn't change back, did you? Not all the way. You're obsessed, and you're dangerous, and you did this to me." Peter said, holding out all four of his arms. Otto's eyes glistened at that.

"But you're amazing, Peter... You're incredible... I want to share that gift with the world." he whispered. Peter stood there, skin glistening with sweat, his mind racing through everything that they had said, that they could say, but it was clear that the two of them had been caught in a verbal loop. They would never see eye to eye. Anything he said would warn Otto to his purpose and give him time to counter. Peter's orange eyes shifted, taking in the structure itself, from the long stretch of hallway to the one more alien looking emitter at the end.

"You have led to me getting a gift, a gift I want to use to help the world too." Peter said. Otto's eyes lit up at that, his breath catching in his throat.

"Exactly, yes... Oh Peter, we can change the world together; you, me and Hugo... Our family will be heralded as heroes. Such a handsome family..." Otto murmured. Peter suppressed a shiver wondering what experiments Otto might conduct on Hugo given the chance, or what Otto's idea of changing the world looked like. He was delusional, clearly affected by this place. He was a danger and a menace.

The air was cut by several sudden web tethers catching Otto's mechanical limbs. The webs tightened and stretched, bringing the mechanisms to their full extension. Otto snarled, shifting his body side to side. Peter knelt down, firing more and more tethers to lock down Otto's own arms and legs. He gnashed his teeth, muttering obscenities. With the doctor locked down as much as he was, Peter moved over to grab onto the snapping pincers at the end of his tentacles, trying to focus his seething anger. Once more the metal began to cool and freeze, becoming brittle. Sparks erupted as Peter ripped the emitters off of the tentacles.

"You're making a huge mistake, Peter! We're at the precipice! If we don't change humanity, they're going to make themselves extinct! We all know it, we all feel it! We've been living on borrowed time!" Otto roared, screaming out as another set of the pincers were snapped off. One of Peter's feet came down, trying to smash it into smaller pieces where it hit the ground before moving onto the next, ripping off another emitter.

"You can explain that to the authorities, I'm sure someone will listen." Peter replied. Otto turned his head, locking eyes with Peter.

"I'll never stop. I'll never let them stop me. There is nothing on Earth that will prevent me from my goal." Otto growled. Peter grunted as he grabbed onto the last remaining emitter on Otto's upper left tentacle, holding his hands on it as it froze and slowed before he slammed it against the wall, shattering it.

"Good thing we're not on Earth." Peter said with a cool detachment, though in close proximity to Otto, he noticed something out of place on the back of his neck... It was gruesomely clear where the metal harness had been embedded into his spine, the metal pierced deep into his flesh, but at the very top was a rectangular vial of liquid that seemed to have a faint sparkle to it. If that was the living water that allowed Otto to turn back, it was what Peter would need to become human again... but the decision Peter had made was cruel enough. He wasn't going to rip it out of Otto's neck just for his own benefit.

Peter turned, moving towards the far end of the room. His eyes scanned the workbench, the notebooks, and most importantly the very clearly improvised activation switch that was plugged into the clearly alien looking vacuum energy arc. Peter stepped in front of the arc, lifting the switch up in his hands. Otto turned his head as far as it would go, trying to make out what was going on behind him. When he realized what it was, his eyes widened in terror.

"You can't leave me here, Peter! I know we haven't seen eye to eye, but you're not a killer..." Otto said. Peter nodded.

"I'm not." he said softly, "There are other arcs, other than this one in this place. Every danger you face between here and there is the same danger you'd put travelers in that use your system. Every danger here is what you're letting people get exposed to. Every danger here is what you put between you and my dad." Peter said, pressing the switch. As the arc started to glow and come to life, Peter gave a yank, ripping the switch out of the arc's base. He felt the compression of the vacuum energy field wrap around him before the dark world of other space fell away. The orange clouds he crashed and careened through turned blue, then black before a disorienting pop snapped around him.

It took a moment for Peter's eyes to adjust to the bright lights of Otto's lab, particularly from the wall of screens. A good half of them showed police and other authorities descended on the Hudson Terminal, investigating the implosion event that had taken Otto and Peter to the other side. A whirring noise sounded from behind Peter as the lab's arc emitter tried to retract. He spun and grunted, grabbing on with all four hands. The amount of frost that built up was incredible before Peter braced one large foot on the wall, tugged and snapped it off. The mechanism went tumbling and skidding across the floor.

Swallowing a little, Peter looked down at himself. He was still a monster. Getting out of the lab wasn't going to be easy, but if he had any hope of ever going home again he needed one more thing. Peter moved over to the cabinets and started opening them, looking through one after the next until, at last, he found what he was looking for. Peter's lower right hand secured a vial of sparkling clear liquid, lifting it up. Peter saw his reflection in the glass; his glowing orange eyes, his fangs. It was impossible not to notice the dark claws curved around the fragile container. This was what he had been turned into, what he had to save the world from becoming. One thing was clear, though - even if he managed to turn his body back, he had left a man in another dimension to a likely death. There was no going back from the monster he'd become.

****

Thunder rumbled across the city, colorful violet flashes leaping from cloud to cloud as the oceanic front rolled in across the skyline. It was beautiful, although the clouds brought an imposing anxiety to Peter as he clung to the side of the building he had been climbing for the last few minutes. He'd found a dark outcropping to linger in, using his lower right arm to fish his cellphone from his pocket. The fingerprint reader hesitated, barely able to read his print before the screen illuminated and revealed that it had been damaged in the fight. The crackled glass resembled a webbing pattern Peter had become all too familiar with.

Carefully swiping up, Peter brought up the contacts and opened the thread with his dad. The screen was too damaged to see if there were recent messages, but the keyboard came up well enough. His new finger moved with as much dexterity as his original set. 'Stuck in traffic. Phone screen broken. Coming home asap. <3 u dad.' Peter hesitated, looking at the message for a moment before he hit send. Peter glanced up with his orange eyes, looking back to his phone. Peter winced a bit as he swiped, the splintered glass cutting his finger as he navigated to Harry's name. As he selected it, he realized that he couldn't tap on anything other than to call his friend. Perhaps that would be easier than typing it all out...

"Perez, what's hanging?" Harry's voice came after the ringing ended.

"I am, I mean... Something big has happened. Can I stop by your place?" Peter asked.

"What? I mean, sure, it'll take a bit to get a security pass but-" Harry was cut off.

"I was actually thinking I'd come in the back way." Peter replied, starting to climb again with three of his four arms. The extra limbs had made it a good deal easier.

"I don't have a back way..." Harry said in confusion.

"Just open the balcony and promise you won't freak out." Peter said.

"How the fuck are you going to get to the balcony?!" Harry asked. Peter merely turned his phone off, returning the device to the pocket of his dirty pants. Harry's 'bedroom' was a suite in Oscorp tower, the massive green glass pinnacle a new landmark of the city. As Peter climbed, he could see one of the seamless panels retract slightly, segment and then fold in on itself until there was a rectangular portion open to the city air. Holding on with one hand and one foot, Peter used two of his arms to launch webs upward, anchoring to the recessed ceiling inside the panel. With the webs in place, Peter climbed up swiftly, coming up over the edge of the balcony.

The dumbfounded look on Harry's face would have been priceless if the situation hadn't been so dire. His rich brown eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open, his bubblegum pink hair freshly showered. He was clearly getting ready for bed, wearing baggy linen pajama pants and nothing else. His shock gave Peter enough time to climb up and perch on the guard rail of the balcony, both large bare feet and one hand enough to keep him upright while three other muscular arms settled into an almost defensive crossed arm position across his firm stomach.

"Thanks for not freaking out..." Peter said softly. Harry shook his head.

"Oh no, I am freaking out, I'm just not broadcasting it..." Harry whispered, finally working up the strength to close his mouth and move closer, reaching up before hesitating. Peter gave a broad shouldered shrug. Harry continued to reach out, resting his hand on Peter's cheek. Harry frowned, "You're ice cold..." he said softly. Peter made a soft noise at that.

"Care to harbor a monster?" he asked. Harry nodded, stepping back.

"Mi casa es su casa." he said, gesturing. Peter stepped down from the guard rail, crossing the short cement balcony before his feet felt the exquisitely engineered wood floor with heating ducts that ran beneath them. Peter shivered a bit at that, looking around. Most teenagers had collections, but no one on Earth had a collection like Harry. There were figurines, statues, props, and costumes that spanned fifty years of animation and cinema. Many of the pieces were custom commissioned works of art, and all of them were reverently stored in dust proof glass cases. Harry pressed a button on his desk and the window panels outside slowly closed themselves again, sealing shut.

"So..." Peter said before realizing he wasn't sure what to say next. Harry yanked the blanket off his bed and brought it over, wrapping it around Peter's shoulders.

"So you're Spider-Man?" Harry asked, his eyes glinting in recollection, "And that's why you were asking about a suit... Oh my god, you want me to make you a superhero suit! None of my templates have four arms though."

"I, I mean yes, that's what I was talking about when we got tea, but I'm not supposed to have four arms. I'm hoping you can help me with-"

"You have fangs! Oh my god that's so cool... Do you have venom too?" Harry asked, tilting his head. Peter's brow furrowed.

"I'm hoping you can help me with getting back to normal." Peter said, extracting the container of unusually sparkling water from his other pocket. Harry moved over and took the bottle, looking at it carefully.

"A cure?" He asked, glancing back at Peter with one raised eyebrow.

"I think so, but I don't know what it is, how much I would need and if there's a way to make more. I can't... go home like this." Peter said. Harry's face softened at that and he nodded, moving forward. Peter inhaled a bit in concern until the smaller pink haired boy nestled against his ample double chest and slipped his smooth arms in between Peter's larger ones. Peter's eyes fluttered closed and he rested his face on Harry's shoulder. Harry gasped a little as those huge arms wrapped around him and squeezed, but he had to admit the feel and smell of Peter's body was quite phenomenal.

"We're going to get you sorted out, okay?" Harry said softly. Peter reluctantly nodded, releasing his friend. Harry moved over and set the vial down on the desk, grabbing his tablet. He swiped a few times before bringing up one of his costume design programs. He looked up at Peter curiously, then looked back at the tablet. He drew a few shapes with his fingers and swiped through a few presets before he offered the tablet to Peter.

"What is this?" Peter asked.

"It's going to take a while to analyze the juice, I figured you could design your costume while we wait. If you come up with something you like, I've got a fabric printer in here. Might need to do some body scans to get it to fit right. You're a bit... taller than me." Harry smirked. Peter gave a soft chuckle at that, moving to sit down on the foot of Harry's king sized bed.

"You are amazing." Peter said.

"Damn straight. Now, wow me with your designs, my apprentice!" Harry grinned, slipping on a white linen shirt and sandals before he grabbed the shining water and excused himself from his room. Peter sat there, looking down at the design Harry had started. Two expressive semicircle eyes stared back at him, hinting at mischievousness and levity. It was the sort of look Peter and Harry had exchanged since they met. It was the sort of feeling that he wanted to get back to. Peter started playing around with the program on the tablet, finding different colors and textures that appealed to him... Orange and black, dark panels and bright panels, cutouts at the wrists for his webslinging. After a few minutes he had a design he rather liked, but it was missing one last detail.

Tapping on the chest of the costume, a pop up window appeared with a sketch box. Peter looked around for a stylus for a moment before blushing, realizing his claws would work well enough. Keeping the pressure light, he traced out his best approximation of a spider with long, sharp angled legs. When he was done, he used the program's correction tool to give the image clean edges and to make it symmetrical. With the checkbox tapped, the spider appeared on the chest of the orange and black suit, an emblem leaving no doubt to just who he was.

****

If Harry had learned anything, it was that Chinese food was an excellent meal after an exhausting day. The pink haired boy sat cross legged on the floor, his eyes monitoring the progress on the lab's replication of the so-called living waters. He used chopsticks to bring the food to his mouth in an almost absent minded fashion, although he did look up at Peter in time to see the mutated teenager suspending a clump of sweet and sour tempura chicken above his mouth before dropping it in and chewing carefully around his fangs. Harry couldn't help but smile at that.

"I'm glad you came to me, that you could trust me." Harry said softly. Peter looked up at that, slurping up a chow mein noodle before he blinked his bashful orange eyes.

"Of course I trust you, Harry! I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have you. I..." Peter trailed off, looking down at his four hands, each one tipped in claws.

"Hey, if for whatever reason this living water stuff doesn't work the way I think it will, you make a pretty handsome monster boy, okay?" Harry said.

"That's just because you're one of those, um, what were they called?" Peter asked.

"Monster fuckers?" Harry asked. Peter laughed at that.

"Yeah, monster fuckers." Peter grinned. Harry didn't laugh, just looking into Peter's eyes.

"If you want to, we can, you know." he said softly. Peter's laughter faded steadily as he replayed what Harry had said in his mind, repeating it a few times to make sure he hadn't misheard. Peter started to shake his head.

"N-no, I mean, we don't know what that would do, what I'm capable of, if I'm toxic or something.... Even that aside, we're friends Harry, best friends..." Peter all but stammered. It had been cute in his old body, but such hesitation seemed out of place from the multi limbed behemoth that he'd become. Harry forced his most charming smile.

"I mean, that's what they call friends with benefits, right? Besides, our labs are the most advanced in the world. They got a handle on the magic juice you brought back, and while we did the bare minimum scan on you that we needed for the reversion tests, you seem pretty stable. I'm willing to take the risks if you are." Harry said, reaching to touch one of Peter's arms. Peter's cheeks grew red with another blush.

"I don't want to hurt you either, I'm kind of big down there." Peter said. This time it was Harry's turn to blush.

"I've been kind of practicing at that for a while. I've got some, um, toys... Some of them are pretty big." Harry said. Peter didn't reply, realizing that Harry had a counterpoint to everything he said. Peter looked down, half at his lap and half deep into his thoughts.

"What if I hurt a part of you you haven't trained?" Peter asked finally. Harry grinned.

"My heart? I've been training that too. I won't do anything you don't want to do, I just offered in case you needed that kind of release. Besides, when we give you the serum and turn you back, you won't get to know what this body can do." Harry said.

"Do you know how far back it'll turn me?" Peter asked. Harry shrugged a little.

"I mean we could probably run experiments for years before we knew all the answers, but from the tests we ran with the samples you gave, it looks like there's a time factor. The water reverted the more dramatic changes, but they weren't able to remove the... spider-genes I guess you'd say. I think you'll still be Spider-Man after this." Harry said.

"Just not a four armed monster." Peter said, raising his lower set of arms, looking at his palms, his claws, and the web ducts on the inner side of his wrists.

"How about I tell you a secret, since you told me yours." Harry said. Peter looked up in surprise.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..." Peter said. Harry rolled his eyes.

"That's not how this works, bro." Harry said, setting his food aside before he took the paper carton from Peter's hand and set it out of the way too. He stood up just long enough to move closer, sitting down on Peter's lap. Peter gasped a little, feeling the weight of his peer resting on his rather ample manhood. Harry cooed a little at that before he turned around to straddle Peter, sliding his legs on either side of his friend's rather plump hips.

"Comfortable?" Peter asked. Harry grinned, the natural glow to his well tanned skin seeming even brighter.

"Oh yeah, best seat in the house." Harry said, squirming a little just to see how much it made Peter moan. Peter leaned back on his upper set of arms, reaching up his lower left arm to caress Harry's shoulder. "When I first got into cosplay, I wasn't sure what I wanted exactly. I loved different characters and designs. I gravitated towards comic book heroes though, their spandex super suits... I liked how sleek they were, how they showed off their physique. I got one of my dad's teams to make me the fabric printer. It works with nylon, spandex, rayon, and several proprietary fabrics. Sometimes I print one up just to feel it squeezing me, seeing all my imperfections smoothed out, to see the stretchy fabric covering my dick perfectly." Harry said.

"And you want to make my spidey suit in the same machine you make your sex sleeves out of?" Peter asked softly. Harry grinned.

"I mean, where else are you going to find someone that's going to do custom commission work with no questions asked and without paying thousands of dollars?" Harry asked.

"Hard to argue with that..." Peter said softly, looking into Harry's eyes.

"This doesn't have to change anything between us... It's just a friend helping a friend." Harry whispered. Peter was breathing heavier.

"You promise?" Peter asked. Harry nodded at that, reaching up to caress, then pinch one of Peter's nipples. Peter groaned at that, especially as Harry's hands moved to alternate both horizontally and vertically. Peter winced and shivered, panting harder until Harry's lips pressed to his. The kisses were clumsy at first, but Peter's urgency began to grow, the warmth of his skin increasing. He sucked and slurped on Harry's mouth, starting to move his lips in ways they never had before.

Harry felt a shiver of delight as the tips of Peter's claws grazed his shoulder, drawing his linen shirt from him and dropping it to the floor. He all but gasped as two arms lifted him from his armpits while two more made short work of his pants. The white fabric drew down from a dark brown bush and a rather plump, surprisingly long and most clearly erect cock rising from his groin. To Peter's surprise, a golden ring glistened from the tip of Harry's dick, thicker and larger than the simple rings his friend wore in his ears. Peter growled in delight at that, bearing his fangs.

"I showed you mine, now show me yours." Harry whispered. Peter reached down, tugging down his worn out, dirty pants. The fabric started to split and tear as it was forced to expand over the plump cheeks of his ass, especially as Peter tugged on the cloth to make more room for his dick. Peter's eyes widened almost as much as Harry's as the thick summer sausage began to slide into view. Peter had seen himself before his trip to other space, but after his most recent transformation it was a surprise to both of them.

As Peter got his pants down to his knees, a good fifteen inches of reddish purple meat rose into view. The head of his cock flared a bit wider before it joined the base and the shaft was dotted with eight bead-like bumps on both the top side and the underside, reminding Harry of some of the more exotic piercings he'd ever seen. Added to that, the pigmentation shifted from reddish orange at the base to almost purple at the tip. Even the texture was rougher than a human cock, but the shaft was most assuredly real. It throbbed with heat and need.

"Does that thing shoot webs too?" Harry whispered.

"Shut up..." Peter whispered, lifting Harry closer to himself. Once more the two kissed, Harry's legs spreading to either side as Peter brought his monster cock up. He rubbed the tip between Harry's cute bubble butt, but his friend had been right about one thing. His pucker was stretched, the ring of flesh pliant and receptive. Peter rubbed back and forth only a few times before a gush of clear pre began to ooze out, slicking down the skin. Harry grinned in the kiss, maneuvering his lower extremities to smear the pre up and down between his cheeks until it was practically dripping.

It had only been a few hours since Peter had gained four arms, but in this moment they felt completely natural. Another added bonus was that having so many limbs reduced the guess work on what to do with his hands. One hand caressed Harry's beautiful pink hair, admiring how healthy it was despite the frequency he dyed it. Another slipped down, curling dangerous clawed fingers around his beautiful cock. It, too, had a perfect tan and a radiance that nearly glowed. Yet another held his hip and the last hand held Harry's shoulder, the two guiding him closer, upwards, maneuvering him into position until-

"Peter!" Harry gasped out of the kiss, feeling his pucker spreading wide over the flared cock head that was now penetrating into him. Peter went slowly, inching in little by little. Harry wriggled, bracing, breathing until there was a satisfying pop noise as the head was inside of him. Having achieved that, Harry let himself slowly sink down around the shaft. Each time a pair of the harder bead-like spots slipped in, Harry's face looked a little more love drunk. He returned to kissing Peter, to grabbing his head, to sinking his fingers into that stringy rust colored hair. He kissed him and sucked on his lip, starting to use his legs to push up before letting gravity tug him down.

It didn't take long for the pair to fall into a rhythm with Harry riding that monster dick. Peter's muscles bulged as he lifted him up and down, almost using him like an extension of his own erection. Harry's hands eventually started to wander, caressing the meaty flank steaks that were Peter's pectorals. Each one was as large as a travel pillow and Harry could imagine himself getting quite comfortable on them. He moaned and groaned, feeling his guts being rearranged by the heavy pistoning action. As much as he tried to hold on, Harry's eyes were rolling into the back of his head and he slowly was leaning back.

Peter shifted positions, letting Harry lay out flat, moving his own body to come down atop him. Harry let out a moaning squeak of delight when he realized he was caged within four arms and two legs of Peter's brilliance. That huge chest was practically pinning him to the floor. He reached up, grabbing onto Peter's shoulders, holding himself there. Peter bore his fangs, practically hissing as he started to do Harry from above. The feeling was intoxicating. He was in a dominant position, trapping his prey, fucking him deep and hard and relentlessly. Peter thought about using his webs to tie him down, or sinking his fangs into that beautiful, perfect, virginal neck... Shuddering off the impulses, Peter just fucked Harry harder.

The two were animals, rutting in heat. Peter's sculpted back glistened with the contours of his thick muscles. His full, round ass cheeks nearly bounced with the effort of his ministrations. All fifteen inches of his huge dick disappeared into Harry's gaping hole. Drool ran down the side of Harry's face, his nipples painfully erect. Harry had never been big on commitment, taking things at a more casual basis. He'd had several hookups, but none of them had ever been as bestial as Peter was being. He looked up into those wild orange eyes, that sharp toothed grin. Harry couldn't help it. He tipped his head back and howled in pleasure.

As Peter felt a hot, wet spray splatter across his stomach, he also felt Harry's ass fluttering and milking his behemoth rod. His lips curled in pleasure, in lust, and then in overwhelming bliss. He gave one last thrust, wedging his dick as deep into Harry's intestines as he could before his balls tingled, his cock throbbed and a deluge of sticky spider cum erupted inside of Harry. Harry nearly bleated out as he felt it, the cum seeping deep into his system. It came in with the pressure of a firehouse, washing away any doubt in his mind.

Peter froze there, his back arched as he came. Long after Harry's orgasm subsided, Peter was still going, his volume distending Harry's flat stomach. The urge to cocoon him in webbing or bite him was still there, so Peter decided to give in to his human impulses instead.

Rolling carefully, Harry was hoisted up onto Peter's rather immense abdomen and ensnared in four beefy arms. Smelling Peter's sweat and musk, Harry couldn't help but let his head come to rest in that nexus between his friend's four pectoral muscles. For however long this lasted, Harry wanted the two of them to be as comfortable as possible, and for him to never forget the day that Peter Perez had become the most handsome man spider.

****

Peter lifted his arm to rub the injection site on his neck, realizing only then just how rubbery and weak his single pair of arms felt in comparison to the quartet he'd been wielding twenty minutes prior. The fangs had receded, the claws had disappeared, though Peter was still quite a bit more developed than he had been before he'd been bitten by the spider. One lingering side effect of the whole encounter was that he was only a little shy walking over to Harry's fabric printer naked. Harry pointed to a metallic grate that stood out in the corner of the room, surrounded by a white plastic ring and several cut out inserts in the floor.

"So you've done this before?" Peter asked. Harry reached over, repositioning Peter into the dead center.

"Tons of times." he replied, grabbing the tablet from the counter, bringing up the design Peter had finalized. He nodded to himself, pressing a button. There was a click, a hiss, and then a distinct vibration rumbling beneath Peter's feet.

"This doesn't sound very subtle..." Peter said. Harry grinned, his brown eyes sparkling.

"I don't do subtle." he smirked. The white ring recessed and retracted before a series of armatures began lifting upward. As they did, Peter felt a pleasantly warm tug at his feet. In moments his toes were ensnared in black stretchy material that hugged his skin, leaving enough room for him to wiggle his toes without quite defining them individually. As the material cooled, faint silver lines criss-crossed the black into web patterns. As the material was stretched upward, extruding from the armatures, a brighter autumn orange color began to slip up Peter's ankles, then calves.

"This feels weird..." Peter said. Harry looked up.

"Good weird, though, right?" Harry asked.

"How did you think to make costumes this way?" Peter asked, feeling the fabric coming up past his calves, then thighs.

"There was this amazing anime, totally chaotic and crazy, but it got me into my spandex fetish. This, though, is way better than spandex. You could probably get grazed in it without an issue. Just try not to get shot." Harry said.

"I do make that a point..." Peter said, gasping as the orange stretchy material reached his hips. It cupped his ass comfortingly, though it also caressed his balls. The printer was moving slower now, the extruding materials coming faster than the machine advanced. Peter realized it moved slower when it had to make a looser fit and it was important not to present his goods to everyone in New York lest they get the wrong idea. A few more layers were added, further diffusing the view before the machine began picking up speed again. Peter held his arms out to his sides, feeling his fingers encapsulated in orange fabric. It closed off his hands, then his wrists, though he still felt the cool air touching his exposed web ducts.

Harry watched with giddy anticipation as Peter's perfect eight pack of abs were covered, an inner stripe of black rubbing up his ribs and the inside of his arms as well. The armatures slowed as they reached Peter's pectorals and biceps, contouring to his shoulders before it came up around his neck. Just as it reached his Adam's apple, however, the machine whirred and slipped back down. The black material began coming out again, the print heads whirring as they affixed the crowning jewel of the costume, a sharp angled spider emblazoned on his chest. Petr grinned with excitement at that.

"Wow, it looks so amazing, this is really fantastic stu-" Peter broke off as he felt something coming down over his head. Another ring had dropped down from above, spreading the stretchy orange material over his head. He inhaled a bit, fighting a mild sensation of claustrophobia as his hair was squeezed to his skull and multiple print heads converged on his face. To Peter's relief, they left his eyes alone, instead weaving an outline where the lenses would go. His nose was covered, his mouth, his chin and then his throat. As the machine came down the back of his skull, contouring the base of the mask to disappear along the edge of the bodysuit, Harry turned around and moved over to a different 3D printer in the corner.

Handling the lenses carefully, he brought them over, slipping them up into the layered edge of the black outlines. Sensing the counterparts, the machine slipped back up, stitching them into place. As Harry stepped back and the ring ascended back into the ceiling, the fabric printer whirred in ever lower pitches. The armatures disappeared, the panels closed and all that was left was the orange and black, extremely fit, newly suited up Spider-Man. Peter raised his arm, examining the craftsmanship, adoring how the orange wasn't just a monotone of color. There were printed pixels of different shades on the fabric, giving it dimension and detail.

"Harry..." Peter whispered.

"I know, I know, don't tell me... I'm a genius, you've never seen quality like this before, you want some spare masks and maybe even a suit to have fun in..." Harry grinned.

"Actually, I wanted to know how I get out of it when I get home..." Peter said. Harry's eyes widened as if the thought hadn't occurred to him before he broke into a small chuckle.

"Think butterfly wings with your shoulders." Harry said, reaching over his in demonstration, "Up and out, up and out. It'll release stretch panels where you can slide in and out." Harry explained, "Oh, and don't forget to wash it unless you really like funk." he added. Peter winced a bit at that and nodded, moving to collect what was left of his pants, shoes and a shirt that Harry had given him as a gift. He dumped his personal possessions into a one strap teardrop shaped backpack and pulled it over his shoulder.

"I can't thank you enough, Harry." Peter said softly. Harry smiled, pressing the button that released the window panes on the balcony, causing them to retract.

"Just be safe out there bug man. Maybe swing on the lower bridges or whatever too, that serum's still in your system. I don't want you falling if you get light headed or something." Harry said. Peter moved over, giving Harry a hug. Harry returned the favor, leaning his head on Peter's pectoral, finding it almost as nice as it had been when he had four of them. With one last squeeze, Peter detached himself from the hug, turned toward the balcony and broke into a run. He pushed off, arching over the guard rail and plummeting down the backside of Oscorp tower. Raising his arms, Peter drew his middle finger back and launched a web tether. It caught an outcropping of the bank building next door, the sudden pivot point turning all of Peter's downward momentum into an arc that swung out over the city.

Peter felt the wind rushing against his suit, no longer hindered by baggy clothing or his wild and untamed hair. Even if someone saw him, all they'd be seeing was Spider-man. Peter shot out another tether, changing angles and swinging towards uptown. It was liberating to be swinging again, but he could feel the weight growing on his heart. Seeing Harry had been a necessary distraction, a way to heal and recover, but he had to face the truth. He had to face the repercussions of stranding Otto in another dimension and what that meant for his dad.

****

The doorknob to the apartment turned slowly before the door eased open, Peter being particularly careful upon his return. The stairwell was dark, the sound of thunder muffled that far inside the building. Peter stood there for a moment, realizing the air purifier was off. In fact, all of the lights were off except for the spillover from the television screen in the living room. The air inside was just as hot and humid as outside, as if the storm itself had taken root. Peter slipped in and shut the door behind him, brushing his messy red hair away from his ear as he listened to what was on the television.

"...leading investigators to reach out to Oscorp specialists for additional information. While the exact cause of the accident at the Hudson Terminal is unknown, one fact remains certain. Famed scientist and inventor Otto Octavius and one unknown individual are still missing at this time. Both the New York and Seattle terminals have been shut down pending the outcome of the investigation and construction on all other facilities have paused indefinitely. If you have any information on the whereabouts of Otto Octavius or the other missing person, authorities ask that you contact the tip line below. The only thing certain at this time is that questions, not answers, are arriving faster than light." the reporter intoned solemnly.

Peter slowly edged out of the entry hallway, seeing where his father was sunk onto the couch, his tired face lit only by the bluish white glow of the television. Hugo's eyes were hollow, his mouth sagging into an unrestrained frown that dragged the corners of his mustache down. He was still wearing his work shoes, indicating that he'd sat down the moment he got home and hadn't gotten up since. There had probably even been light outside when he got back. Knowing the way the news cycle worked, Hugo had probably been seeing the same story about Otto disappearing over and over as the sun set and darkness took hold.

Even knowing it had been coming, even knowing the consequences of his actions, Peter could feel his heart breaking. He had done this to his dad. He'd hurt him and stolen away the joy. There was a chance Otto might get back some day, even someday soon, but things would never go back to the way they had been. Otto wouldn't forgive Peter, and Peter wouldn't forgive Otto... and Hugo had been caught in the middle. Hugo, a sweet and innocent man whose only crime had been to love too much and to lose those that he cared about over and over... and this time it was Peter's fault. The light switch snapped as Peter flicked it, cream colored light erupting from the kitchen. Hugo blinked in discomfort, his eyes adjusting. He turned and looked up, the faintest of forced smiles trying to form.

"Peter, you're home..." Hugo said gently. Peter felt another stab in his heart. Not mijo, but Peter.

"I'm home, dad, and I love you." Peter said softly. Hugo opened his mouth to speak but the moisture grew in his eyes, making them glisten. His throat started to quiver. Peter shook his head, "You don't have to say anything, I know." Peter said, moving over, crouching down enough to give his dad a hug. Hugo inhaled roughly, feeling Peter's arms close around him and squeeze. Hugo lowered his head, closing his eyes. He didn't cry, at least not audibly. The tears fell like silent raindrops, pattering on the floor. Each drop felt as though it drained away a bit more of Hugo's zeal, his jubilation, his joy. Obscured by his father's shoulder, Peter's face tightened in pain and shame. His father's pain was his fault, but if not for that pain, many more might have been hurt. He had to do what he could to mend his father and to go on protecting those that could not protect themselves. He was, after all, a guardian spirit now.