//------------------------------// // First Day // Story: The Amazing Spider-Man: The Web of Friendship // by Time Pony Victorious //------------------------------// PETER It was stormy that night. It felt appropriate to Peter because it felt like his world had been taken from him, all color and sound and light should’ve faded away but it hadn’t. The world just spun on and continued its revolution. He carried Gwen down the street and to the hospital in a mad stupor. Peter had had enough sense to don his mask again but he just kept muttering Gwen’s name over and over again in that hoarse voice. He had practically blown out his throat screaming an hour ago. It ached and burned but he didn’t do anything to fix it, he knew his regenerative abilities would fix that up soon. It’d fix up every injury, except the one in his heart, that bullet-sized hole there that burned and sizzled, feeling like it was killing him from the inside out. “Oh my God,” someone said, running up to him. Peter barely registered the voice, he kept his eyes fixed on Gwen this whole time, letting his body run on autopilot. “Spider-man, what—what happened? Can I get some help?!” The nurse called for more help but Peter knew it was too late. It was way too late. It took a few minutes for the nurses and paramedics to coax him into letting them take care of Gwen and when he finally let her go, he thought he would collapse right there. “Spider-man, what happened?” one of the nurses asked him repeatedly. I did. “I-it wasn’t your fault.” How do you know? “You’re a hero, Spidey. Please don’t let this get to you.” Too late. Spiderman left the hospital, swinging away as quickly as he could and headed back to the unremarkable alley. His boots hit the ground as the storm raged on overhead. The freezing rain weighed down on his costume like lead weights, his fist trembled with anger. The Green Goblin, Harry Osborn, Pete’s “best friend”, was behind a dumpster tied up neatly with webbing, his mouth and eyes were covered as well. Spiderman knew that Goblin’s armor and serum injection would’ve been enough to break through the webbing, that’s why he dislocated his shoulders. Bones can heal, but dislocated shoulders won’t. Spiderman yanked Goblin to his feet, tearing the webbing from his eyes. Harry’s eyes widened as he looked around desperately to see where he was and when he focused on Spiderman’s… his eyes brightened and his cheeks curved up into a smile. Spidey growled, grabbed him by the shoulders, and threw him against the brick wall so hard it cracked and nearly crumbled under the impact. Goblin cried out in pain against his webbing-gag from his shoulders but he could hear him laughing psychotically. Goblin weakly stood up and Spidey spun and kicked him in the head, making him lurch into the dumpster and slam into it, causing the metal to bend and groan. Spidey reached down to grab him again but Goblin jumped up and kicked him in the chest. When Spidey recovered, he noticed that Goblin brandished a knife and cut through his bonds. Goblin tore off the web from his mouth and hissed at Spidey. “Poor Peter…” he chuckled. “What’s wrong? Upset that your wittle girlfriend broke her neck?” With a grunt, Goblin reset his shoulders back by himself, the psychotic madman. “Oh come on, Pete. What’s a joke between old friends?” Spidey jumped up and kneed Goblin in the face, knocking him back. Goblin recovered and slashed wildly with his knife but Spidey dodged easily. He grabbed his hand, twisted his arm and slammed it forward at the elbow breaking it effortlessly. Goblin roared in pain, his face cherry-red and his expression contorted in agony. But Spidey didn’t stop, he punched Goblin, sending the villain down to the ground and coughing up blood. Spidey turned him over and punched him repeatedly in the face. With each hit, Goblin lurched less and less, convulsing weakly, but he never let up. Spidey kept seeing Gwen’s face, her horrified expression as she fell, that look in her eyes that begged him to both save her… and to not blame himself for this. It was only the rattling of a jawbone breaking that snapped Spidey out of his rage. He blinked and saw Goblin on the ground, bleeding and completely battered, his eyes swollen so much it was just a purple mass, and his jaw hanging at a strange angle. Spidey’s hands were red with blood and cut at the knuckles. He stood up, gasping for air like he couldn’t breathe, as he hopelessly watched Goblin’s chest, silently praying that it would rise up for breath… Harry let out a shuddering breath and Spiderman’s heart relaxed. Thunder rumbled through the city and Spiderman swallowed that lump in his throat, trying to ignore the white-hot pain in his chest… Peter woke with a start. He was breathing heavily and his chest felt heavy as if an elephant slept on it last night. Sunlight drifted in through the window, illuminating the small room which should’ve made him feel warm but Peter couldn’t stop shivering. His fur was damp from sweat, he felt the outline of tears running down his face and— Wait, fur? Peter looked down and saw, yep, hooves. He looked around again and noticed that this wasn’t his room, it was one of the guest rooms at Princess Twilight’s castle. This wasn’t New York. He was a pony. “So, yesterday wasn’t a dream,” he muttered to himself, running a hoof through his mane. He looked down at his forelegs, forgetting that he went to sleep in his costume and feeling a bit silly about it now. When he revealed his face to the girls yesterday, he was scared they would somehow recognize him and toss him out of town for his crimes. It was a bit ridiculous but the fear still weighed his shoulders, a deep part of him wanted to be punished for being Spiderman. Weakly, he got out of bed and awkwardly stood on all four hooves. It wasn’t as weird as he expected, after all he scaled buildings with two hands and feet so this wasn’t too different, and walking felt a bit more natural. Weird. Looking over to the closet, he wished he had something else to wear. None of the ponies (save the Wonderbolts) wore clothing regularly and that had embarrassed Peter, especially since pretty much everyone he’s met was a girl but they didn’t mind. Over on the closet door was a little sticky note. Peter approached it and read: Rarity brought some clothes for you this morning, if you want to wear them. Don’t ask me when she got your measurements. -TS Peter smiled and silently thanked Rarity for her consideration and opened the closet. Some clothes? The entire walk-in closet was filled with dozens of outfits. Peter was sure that the closet was empty when he checked last night, no way Rarity was able to make all of these clothes for him! “A bit much…” he muttered to himself, walking in. “But, thanks.” Spike was making pancakes, which was nice since he rarely cooked these days, or maybe he has and Twilight was simply too busy to notice. She was reading the Ponyville Gazella about last night’s incident. Apparently the ponies were taking the chaos in stride, having becoming accustomed to crazy disasters a minor Hydra attack was nothing for them. They were, however, more interested in the costumed hero that stopped the monster (with an assist from the Princess) than anything. Witnesses talked him up, chattering over him, in fact the next few pages were just about him. There were about a dozen pictures of Peter up, looking all heroic and stuff (Twilight wondered where the photographers were that took the pictures) with commentary below. Hay, the Wonderbolts themselves were interviewed about him! “Whoever this Web-Head is,” Spitfire said in the interview. “All I can say is: he’s Amazing.” “So,” Spike said, flipping his flapjacks. “Now we’re harboring an interdimensional superhero in the castle after he crashed in the Everfree Forest like a meteor…” “Yeah, and?” Twilight asked, sipping her apple juice. “Well, nothing. I was just curious if this was our life now,” he said, turning around with a plate full of pancakes. “I was curious to see what would happen after Tirek. Gotta say, a little underwhelming.” “Spike, this isn’t a game,” Twilight huffed. “Peter’s a good pony and—“ “And on that subject. Peter?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow. “Peter Parker? Seriously? What a weird name! It’s like, Wow, I can alliterate.” Twilight scoffed but couldn’t help but smile. Her word of the day calendar that she gave to Spike was paying off. “He isn’t from this world, or from this universe! Of course he’s going to be a little different…” “And while we’re on that subject,” Spike said as he sat down and handed a few pancakes to Twilight while keeping more than half for himself. “So, we’re okay with the knowledge that aliens exist?” “Well… He’s not really an—“ “He’s the definition of an alien!” Spike argued. “He couldn’t be more alien if we tried and we’re just… accepting that? No debate or intrigue or even dissection?” “Spike, we’re not dissecting him.” “I’m just saying! It’s like, Oh, by the way, aliens are real. Cool. We’re not going to do anything with that knowledge?” “Remind me to take away your Doctor Whooves comics…” “Uh, morning?” Twilight and Spike turned toward the entrance as Peter walked in. He looked bright-eyed and bushy-tailed but his mane stuck up like he rolled out of his bed. It seemed he had taken Twilight’s note seriously and put on one of Rarity’s outfits. It was a simple design yet complimented Peter. He wore a simple hoodie colored navy blue over his back and bright red over his barrel, the sleeves that covered his forelegs was red in the front and blue in the back and his hood was colored red as well. There was a simple blue shirt underneath as well but none of it obscured his cutie mark which was a red and blue double helical structure of a DNA molecule. He looked good considering last night. “Morning!” Spike greeted, approaching Peter and poking him in the side as if wanting him to explode in green goop. “There are some… pancakes for you. Unless your species can’t eat them!” Twilight sighed and levitated Spike away from Peter. “Sorry about that, he reads a lot of comics.” “Oh really?” Peter’s face brightened. “I can relate.” Peter sat down for breakfast, or rather, tried the whole breakfast part of it and failed miserably. It seemed that despite amazing agility, dexterity and those web-shooters, Peter could not use a fork to save his life. After the billionth time, Peter just sighed and slammed his face into his plate, eating the pancakes just like that. Twilight laughed, but it was apologetic, like she felt bad for making fun of him. Peter smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I need to learn how to use my hooves, huh?” “I shouldn’t be laughing,” Twilight said, stifling giggles. “Don’t worry, I can show you how to use your hooves, Pete.” “Cool. So, uh, what’s the plan for today?” he asked, picking up another pancake with his mouth and chewing it slowly. “I’ll be heading to Canterlot to talk to Princesses Celestia and Luna,” Twilight answered. “I’m going to try to see if there’s a way to send you home.” “I’ll come with,” Peter offered. Twilight shook her head. “Maybe it’ll be better for you to get, ah, comfortable here. Maybe go around town or something, get to know everypony.” “But—“ Peter frowned but decided not to argue. Maybe he knew why Twilight didn’t want to take him, she couldn’t bear for him to be there if he hears the bad news. “Okay, around town then,” Peter nodded. “That sounds good…” “Spike can show you around,” Twilight agreed. “It’ll be fun.” “Fun… I could use some fun.”