Chapter Text
Aidan Stark was born on October 3rd, 2001, to Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. His arrival was the result of an unexpected pregnancy after one of Tony’s drunken one-night stands with Pepper—who, at the time, was still just his personal assistant, not yet the woman he would fall in love with. But from the moment Tony laid eyes on Aidan, his life changed. He vowed to put an end to his playboy days and become someone his son and girlfriend could be proud of. He quit drinking, stopped attending extravagant parties, and began taking work seriously. His bond with Pepper deepened naturally, evolving from partnership into love. By the time Aidan turned two, they were married.
Aidan was a cheerful, bubbly baby—always smiling, always babbling, and quick to show affection to everyone around him, even strangers, which worried his parents. He was empathetic and kind, far more considerate than most children his age. He rarely cried or threw tantrums, preferring instead to hide in a quiet corner and wipe his tears away silently whenever he felt upset or hurt.
Then, everything changed.
On November 15th, 2005, when Aidan was just four, he was kidnapped from a neighborhood park. His nanny, exhausted after a long shift, failed to notice when Mary Parker approached. Mary, a woman haunted by years of infertility, found herself making a terrible, impulsive decision the moment her eyes landed on the tearful, doe-eyed boy—scraped knee, crumpled on the ground, and no one nearby to stop her. She scooped him up and vanished.
Mary hadn’t realized at first who she had taken. Only later, when news reports flooded the media, did she understand the gravity of what she had done. Terrified, she and her husband Richard fled the country, crossing into Canada and disappearing into the countryside. There, they forged new documents and new lives. They renamed the boy Peter Parker and told him stories—stories that erased the life he had once known. Over time, the boy who once cried for his mommy and daddy came to believe those stories. According to the forged documents, “Peter Parker” was born on August 10th, 2001.
Tony and Pepper's search for Aidan was relentless and public. For three years, they poured every resource into finding their son. But tragedy struck again when Tony himself was kidnapped by the Ten Rings. By the time he returned home, battered and changed, Pepper had grown hollow with grief. Together, they made the agonizing decision to pause the search—not because they had given up, but because they were drowning.
Mary homeschooled Peter until she and Richard died in a plane crash when Peter had just turned seven. (This occurred just days after Tony was kidnapped, and the media, fixated on Tony’s disappearance, barely covered the accident.)
Peter was placed in the care of Richard’s estranged brother, Ben Parker, and his wife, May. Kind and unsuspecting, Ben and May assumed Peter was simply their nephew. Peter’s brown hair and eyes resembled the Parkers’, and since Ben had been out of contact with Richard for over a decade, they never questioned his identity. In their modest apartment in Queens, Peter found something he hadn’t had in years: warmth, routine, and unconditional love. Though they didn’t have much, Ben and May ensured he had food on the table, a warm bed, and plenty of affection. To Peter, they became home.
Peter met Ned in the second grade, and the two bonded instantly over Star Wars, robots, and superheroes—especially Iron Man. In middle school, they became a trio with the addition of MJ. Though she pretended she was only hanging around because she “unfortunately had no other friends,” she found the boys’ dorky energy secretly endearing. MJ often acted as their sarcastic but loyal protector.
At thirteen, Peter’s life changed again.
During a field trip to Oscorp, Peter was bitten by a genetically-engineered spider. Overnight, his body transformed. His eyesight sharpened. His asthma disappeared. He could climb walls and had incredible strength. Terrified and unsure, Peter hid his abilities from May and Ben, hoping he could figure them out on his own first.
The following months were rough. He broke pencils by accident, ripped through his clothes, even tore the doorknob off his bedroom door. But his life stayed mostly intact. He earned a scholarship to Midtown High and celebrated with May and Ben over Thai food. Saturdays were reserved for Lego-building with Ned, and Sundays were for family movie nights— Empire Strikes Back was a favorite, watched five times and counting.
But two weeks before his middle school graduation, tragedy struck again.
Uncle Ben, while working undercover on a case involving a dangerous new drug called Eureka, was shot and killed. The killer was never found.
Peter and May were shattered. May coped by burying herself in double shifts at the hospital. Peter, alone in the apartment most days, was consumed by guilt. If he had been there—if he had known—maybe his powers could have saved Uncle Ben. That guilt gave birth to a promise: he would use his abilities to protect others. He would find Ben’s killer. He would make it right.
That was the beginning of Spider-Man.
But just as he began to find purpose again, fate struck once more. One night, May—exhausted from another late shift—fell asleep at the wheel. She didn’t survive the crash.
By age fourteen, Peter had lost everything. Again.
Uncle Ben’s best friend Marcus, a fellow cop, made sure Peter was placed in a good foster home nearby so he wouldn’t have to change schools. That’s how Peter met Dana.
Dana did her best to welcome him. She offered kindness and structure, but Peter, too grief-stricken to open up, barely spoke. He ate little. He barely slept. August was a blur of silence and aching loneliness.
By September, as school started again, Peter’s sorrow calcified into quiet fury. Not at anyone in particular—just the world. At himself. At the helplessness. He began patrolling nearly every night as Spider-Man, chasing leads, looking for answers. He came home late, bruised, exhausted. He told Dana he’d joined after-school clubs and stayed at the library to study. It wasn’t entirely false—he did go to the library… to dig through old news stories and police reports.
But one night, Peter came home with a bad bruise across his jaw. His hoodie couldn’t hide it. Dana noticed immediately.
She didn’t yell. She simply asked, “What happened?”
Peter froze. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, trying to head upstairs.
But before he could escape, Dana wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“Peter,” she whispered, voice shaking, “You don’t have to tell me everything. But please… don’t push everyone away. You’re not alone.”
That moment cracked something open in him. He hadn’t realized how badly he needed someone to care. Tears fell before he could stop them. He collapsed into Dana’s embrace and cried—messy, silent sobs until there was nothing left.
Afterward, Dana gently asked again what had happened. Peter wanted to tell her the truth. But fear held him back. What if she found out he was a mutant? What if she sent him away to Xavier’s School like so many other kids with powers?
So he lied. He said he got mugged. Wrong place, wrong time.
Dana didn’t believe him. Not entirely. But she let it go.
That week, she called his school and learned he wasn’t in any clubs. His grades were slipping. She grounded him. From then on, she made it her mission to keep him steady—checking homework, calling teachers, keeping dinner at 7 p.m. sharp every night.
Peter began to settle into a new routine. He joined the Academic Decathlon team with Ned and MJ. He limited patrols to three times a week after school and avoided close combat when he could. He always ate dinner at 7 P.M. with Dana and Peter's foster brother, Jake. After dinner, he would complete his homework at the kitchen table, while Jake watched cartoons in the living room. The noise was comforting. Quiet still felt like danger.
By October, the weight of his secret was too heavy to carry alone. One evening, Peter told Ned the truth — that he was Spiderman. Ned’s reaction was instant and predictable. He squealed, nearly fell off his chair, and immediately declared himself Peter’s “Guy in the Chair.”
From then on, their Saturdays changed. Instead of building Lego sets, Ned rigged Peter’s suit with a hidden earpiece and a tiny camera. He hacked into local police scanners and directed Peter during patrols, cheering him on from his bedroom and offering live feedback like an overenthusiastic sports commentator. When Peter returned, scraped but triumphant, Ned was always waiting with high-fives and celebratory snacks.
For the first time in a long time, things started to feel okay.
Well… until something very unexpected happened in November.