“What the hell is going on?” were Peter’s words as he opened the blinds on his window, letting sunlight flood into the room. He sat back down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. None of this made sense. In his previous life, he might not have been Marvel’s biggest fan nor known everything about the comics or shows, but he had never seen anything about Peter Parker having siblings. Well… after the Clone Saga, he supposedly developed a brotherly bond with his clones, and then that character named Teresa appeared claiming to be his secret sister.

“Wait,” Peter said, stopping his own train of thought.

Kaine, Ben, Teresa—Peter went over the names from his memories again in his head and compared them to the names of the clones and the probably fake sister, and he could only feel confusion all over again.

“What the hell is going on with this world?” Peter said, putting a hand to his face. Right now, three characters who shouldn’t even exist or be connected to him at this stage of his life were his older siblings. He could find them in almost all of his memories. His head was spinning. How had that happened—rather, how had he ended up in this body?

And if that was different in this world, what else would be? Quickly following the body’s memories, he found the cellphone on the nightstand beside his bed. When he turned it on, a flood of notifications and messages came in at once. He ignored the messages—they could wait—and went straight to the search engine.

The first thing he looked up was the man who had supposedly kick-started Marvel’s peak in popularity: Tony Stark. The results weren’t too surprising—scandal after scandal, his trial over the Iron Man armor, a few bits about his feats as Iron Man. It didn’t surprise Peter much that Stark was already Iron Man; it helped him figure out roughly where he was in the timeline.

He continued his search with good ol’ Cap, Steve Rogers. Aside from several World War II articles, it seemed he had already been thawed out and had been active for some time, as Peter found various articles of him appearing at political or veterans’ events—but no heroic exploits. If Peter remembered correctly from the movies, Steve dedicated himself to SHIELD missions after being unfrozen, so it made sense none of that would be public online.

He did find an ad to join the Avengers fan club, which helped confirm that they had already formed by now. The problem was that he didn’t know their current lineup.

He decided to avoid names like Natasha Romanoff or Clint Barton—something in him said that if he searched either of those two, a SWAT team would come crashing into his house moments later.

He searched Thor and found nothing noteworthy beyond a subreddit theorizing about his location on Earth based on lightning storms.

He did a quick search for Bruce Banner. Aside from old news on his gamma radiation research and all the usual Hulk-related material, the most recent thing was an article stating he had disappeared almost four years ago. A chill ran down Peter’s spine, and he made a quick prayer that it was just Bruce lying low and not because the Planet Hulk event was underway.

That last thought made Peter pause.
“If Hulk’s disappearance is related to the Planet Hulk events, then…”

Without wasting time, he quickly typed in a series of names.

The first was Charles Xavier. Then things exploded—articles about his fight for mutant rights, titles of books he had written about the mutant gene, accounts of how he and his team had helped prevent global incidents like the Cuban Missile Crisis.

He continued with Reed Richards, and again, it didn’t disappoint: articles about his space radiation research, his space journey funded by Doom Industries, even many sensationalist articles about his marriage to former child star turned scientist Sue Storm.

“Former child star?” Peter asked aloud, but decided to shelve that for later—he was already too confused to add more.

He searched other names like Namor and Black Bolt, but didn’t find much—only that both the Inhumans and Atlanteans were already well-known to the public in this world.

Letting out a sigh, he decided to stop searching names and switch to local news articles. He found some interesting bits—for example, the once-presumed-dead heir to Rand Enterprises, Danny Rand, had recently returned to New York. There was also speculation about businessman Wilson Fisk possibly running for mayor in the next election.

The more Peter read, the clearer and sharper his thoughts and memories became, as if the once blank mental map was being filled in like a jigsaw puzzle.

For once, he felt lucky—he realized he had retained the original Peter’s level of intelligence, the intelligence of a genius.

In just minutes, with each article he read, his previously blank mental board was now full, and he could give a general verdict on where he had landed.

This world seemed to be a strange amalgamation of elements from movies, series, and comics all mashed together.

He sighed again, rubbing his face. Even with that conclusion, he had no idea which things were part of this reality and which weren’t—plus, there seemed to be entirely new elements, like the fact that instead of being an only child, he was now the youngest of four siblings.

Before he could dig deeper into his mind, the bedroom door opened again. This time, instead of an annoyed Kaine on the other side, Peter felt his heart skip a beat. Standing there was a girl his age with red hair tied back in a loose ponytail, wearing a Catholic schoolgirl uniform and carrying a basket of clean laundry in her hands.

A name immediately came to mind—Mary Jane Watson.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Mary Jane said as she entered the room. Casually, she walked up to Peter and planted a quick kiss on his lips before moving away to open the wardrobe and start organizing the clothes she’d brought in.

During the short interaction, Peter just stared at her like she’d suddenly grown a second head.

“What are you still sitting around for? Hurry up and shower before Benny and Trish wake up or you’ll be stuck without hot water,” Mary Jane said—half ordering him—while continuing to put clothes away without looking back at him.

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter replied reflexively. At that, the redhead finally turned to face him with an annoyed look.

“Hey, I told you to stop calling me ma’am,” Mary Jane said, tossing him a shirt she had in her hands. Peter caught it easily.

Ignoring her words, Peter got up from the bed, almost running, and left the room. By instinct, he navigated the house until he found the bathroom and locked himself inside.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Double shit!” Peter exclaimed, staring at himself in the mirror. “What the hell happened?”

Peter spoke in frustration. Just when he thought he’d begun to understand his new reality, this came along and knocked him down. At that moment, the memories hit him again—specifically the ones involving Mary Jane.

They had been neighbors since they were kids and had basically known each other their whole lives. His earliest memory of her was meeting at age four and quickly becoming friends after Peter saved her from a stray dog that tried to attack her. They’d gone to the same schools and been in the same classes ever since, spending more time at Peter’s house than her own—something Peter now understood, as nearly every memory of Mary Jane’s house was filled with yelling and her drunk father.

One day, when they were thirteen, MJ had snuck into his room and climbed into his bed while he was sleeping. When he woke up in the morning, he noticed she had a bruise on her face. They never talked about it, but from that moment on, Mary Jane had practically moved into Peter’s house.

“Alright, I need to go through these memories carefully. Being caught off guard like this is getting annoying,” Peter murmured at his reflection. He turned on the sink, splashed water on his face, and drank from his hands. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was until now. After a minute of just staring at himself in the mirror, there was a knock at the door.

“I don’t hear the shower—hurry up or you’ll miss your field trip,” came Mary Jane’s voice from the other side.

“Field trip?” Peter asked, quickly searching his memories. He found it—today his science class was going on a field trip to Oscorp Industries, courtesy of the father of one of the students and, apparently, Peter’s best friend, Harry Osborn. Which meant…

That today he would get his powers.

“Don’t tell me you forgot—you’ve been talking about it all month,” Mary Jane said from the other side.

“Right, sorry—I didn’t hear you clearly. I’ll be right out,” Peter said, trying to dispel any suspicion that something was off.

There was no immediate response, probably because she was weighing his words, but after a minute, she finally replied:
“Fine, but hurry up—I don’t want to hear you complain all month about how you missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because you stayed in the bathroom.”

Peter heard her footsteps moving away.

He sighed again, deciding that for now the best thing to do was to shower as she’d asked.

He showered quickly and, when finished, went to his room to get dressed.

“Well, at least one constant is that this Peter’s still a nerd,” Peter said, looking at the clothes in his wardrobe—shirts with comic book characters, anime designs, or math and chemistry formulas. For now, he went with something simple: a plain black shirt, basic jeans, and black military-style boots—which weren’t really an option, since his entire shoe collection was made up solely of military boots in different colors. Another thing to check in his memories later.

Once dressed, he left the room, instinctively grabbing one of the skateboards hanging on the wall and the dark red jacket behind the door. Even though he’d never been here before, his instincts guided him easily through the house—he felt he could get anywhere with his eyes closed. Before he knew it, he was in the kitchen.

There was a large dining table big enough for all the household members, and already sitting there was an older man with a steaming cup of coffee. Peter walked in, trying to look as natural as possible.

“Good morning,” he said as he entered.

“Good morning, Peter,” Aunt May replied with a smile as she placed a plate of toast and eggs in front of the man.

For a moment, Peter froze. He had expected to find the classic portrayals of Ben and May—elderly, slightly frail people. Instead, Aunt May looked exactly like Marisa Tomei’s MCU version, and Uncle Ben was basically the spitting image of Mel Gibson.

“Honestly, I expected Tom Hanks,” Peter thought as he looked at the people who were supposed to be his aunt and uncle.

“Finally awake—usually you’re the first one here,” Ben said, taking a sip of his coffee. “For a second, I thought that redhead had finally worn you out.”

“Don’t be rude, Ben. Peter probably just stayed up late from the excitement of today’s field trip—you know how much he was looking forward to it,” May said, coming back with another plate of toast and eggs. “Why are you standing there, honey? Eat, or you’ll be late.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Mary Jane said, walking into the kitchen and sitting down where the plate was.

“I’m not very hungry,” Peter said simply. He wasn’t sure if, in his current state, it was wise to sit at a table full of people he apparently knew all his life but had actually met for the first time that day.

“Since when are you not hungry?” Ben joked, glancing up from his food.

“I’ll grab something on the way—I just want to be the first one there,” Peter corrected himself. This whole pretending-to-be-him thing was harder than he’d expected.

“You and your science stuff—I don’t get it, but if it makes you happy,” Ben said, reaching into his pants pocket. Of all the things Peter expected him to pull out, the last was a thick wad of $100 bills. Ben took three and placed them on the table.

“Here—breakfast and lunch, and maybe treat a girl along the way, huh?” Ben said with a wink at the last part. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Mary Jane frown and glare at Ben, but he didn’t stick around to let things escalate—he quickly grabbed the bills from the table.

“Thanks, Uncle Ben,” Peter said simply before turning to leave.

“Remember you have to work at the shop after school,” Aunt May called from the kitchen.

“Got it. Love you,” Peter said, the last part almost out of reflex.

And with that, he left the house—next stop: Midtown High.