After school, Alex walked with Peter toward his house in Queens. The subway ride was quiet. Peter stared out the window looking distracted.
"You sure you're okay?" Alex asked.
"Yeah. Just... everything feels weird today. Like my body doesn't fit right."
"That's a strange way to put it."
"I know. I can't explain it better." Peter looked at his hands. "It's like I'm stronger but also clumsier. Does that make sense?"
"Maybe you're coming down with something. Flu can mess with your coordination."
"Maybe."
They reached Peter's house. A small place in a quiet neighborhood. Aunt May greeted them at the door.
"Alex! Good to see you." She smiled warmly. "Peter, how are you feeling? You look pale."
"I'm fine, Aunt May. Just tired."
"Well, you boys study. I made cookies if you want snacks." She headed toward the kitchen.
Peter's room was small but organized. Posters of scientists on the walls. Books stacked neatly on shelves. A desk with homework scattered across it.
They settled in to study. Or pretend to study. Alex was more focused on observing Peter.
His friend kept dropping things. Pencils. Books. His phone slipped out of his hand twice.
"What's wrong with me today?" Peter muttered, picking up his phone again.
"You're just exhausted. Here." Alex handed him a water bottle. "Drink something. You might be dehydrated."
Peter drank half the bottle. Set it down on the desk.
Alex watched carefully. When Peter wasn't looking, he picked up the bottle. Held it by the cap. The part Peter's mouth had touched.
"I'm going to grab a snack," Alex said. "Want anything?"
"No thanks."
Alex walked downstairs to the kitchen. Aunt May was there preparing dinner.
"Cookies are on the counter," she said cheerfully.
"Thanks, Ms. Parker."
Alex grabbed a cookie and walked back upstairs. But he stopped in the bathroom on the way. Locked the door.
He pulled out one of his sterile swabs from his pocket. Quickly swabbed the mouth of the water bottle. Peter's saliva would contain cells. DNA. Evidence of how the transformation was progressing.
The swab went into a sealed container. Into his pocket.
Sample two collected.
Alex returned to Peter's room. They studied for another hour. Math homework. Chemistry review. Normal teenage stuff.
But nothing about this was normal. Alex was documenting everything. The broken pencils. The dropped objects. The way Peter's reflexes were getting faster even as his fine motor control suffered.
Around 6 PM, Aunt May called them for dinner. They ate together. Peter seemed to relax a bit with food in his system.
"Feeling better?" Aunt May asked.
"A little. Yeah."
After dinner, Alex said his goodbyes. "I should head home. See you tomorrow?"
"Sure. Thanks for coming over."
Alex walked to the subway station. Once he was on the train heading back to Manhattan, he pulled out his phone and started taking notes.
Day One Post-Exposure:
- Enhanced strength evident (broken pencils, spilled water)
- Coordination impaired (dropping objects, fumbling movements)
- Fatigue and headache reported
- Subject unaware of strength increase
- Fine motor control degrading as gross strength improves
He saved the notes and put his phone away. Stared out the window at the city passing by.
'It's working exactly like it should,' Alex thought. 'Peter's body is adapting. In a few days he'll be superhuman.'
And Alex would document every step of it.
...
The next morning, Alex went to Oscorp early. He had work to do and questions to answer before someone started asking them to him.
Dr. Connors was already in his office. He looked like he hadn't slept. Papers covered his desk. The computer showed security footage paused on a frame.
"Alex. Good. Come here."
Alex walked over. "What's wrong?"
"I've been reviewing footage from the incident. Look." Connors played the video. It showed the observation deck. Students evacuating. Connors on the phone. Alex leaving to get the ladder.
"There's an eight-second gap where nobody is in frame with the specimen. By the time you come back with the ladder, it's gone."
"So someone took it during those eight seconds?"
"Must have. But who?" Connors rubbed his eyes. "There's no other footage of anyone entering or leaving during that time. It just... disappeared."
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