"Your brother is sick. Don't bother him now," ordered my Aunt May. They were the first words that greeted me as I came in the house. I threw my bag of clothes on the counter. I just came home from an overnight stay at my friend's house.
"What's wrong with him?" I asked.
"Came down with a bug of some sort at that museum he went to yesterday with his class."
Aunt May shook her head, glancing up the stairs, her wrinkles folding in worry.
"Want me to check up on him?" Peter rarely, if ever, got sick.
Aunt May nodded, despite her earlier order of me to leave him alone. "Yes, do that," she said. "I'll make him some soup and maybe get him some crushed ice chips and soda. When you get up there, take his temperature." She handed me a thermometer.
Sighing, I took the stairs up to my older brother's room. Softly, I knocked on the door. "Pete?" I called. "Peter, you alright? Can I come in?" I received no answer, but I heard a loud clunk as if a picture fell off of the wall. A few more thumps followed after. Worried, I slowly turned the knob, only to find the door locked.
"Hey, you going to let me in? Pete?"
There was some shuffling, then the door clicked and opened a hair. Peter's blue eye peered through. "That you, Andy?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Who did you think it was?"
Peter let out a nervous laugh. "No one."
I shuffled my feet uncomfortably and held up the thermometer. "I'm playing doctor."
Peter stared for a moment. He was acting weirder than usual, and that was saying something – my brother was weird. "I'm fine," he said.
"Can I come in anyway?" I asked. He always let me in whenever I wanted – he absolutely adored me and was always eager to help me whenever I needed it for homework or advice. The fact that he hesitated showed me he was up to something. "Well?"
"Can you keep a secret?" he asked. I was still only talking to a sliver of my brother.
"Yes!" I exclaimed, irritated that he didn't just let up already.
"Okay, be quiet, and don't say I didn't warn you." He opened up the door minimally. Good thing I was skinny, or I wouldn't have been able to slip through.
"What the hell?" was the only thing I could think of to say. White wire adorned every part of the room like a hundred tight ropes stringing from wall to wall. A broken picture frame had, in fact, fallen down. A white wire was attached to it. That was barely the weird part, though: the wire looked silky and not like metal or normal rope at all. The thermometer dropped from my hand, forgotten.
I hesitantly prodded the delicate-looking wire. It was soft, and, growing bolder, I took the rope in my two hands and tried to pull it apart. It wouldn't budge.
"What is this?" I asked, looking up at my brother in amazement. Sheepishly, he looked around the room at the rope hanging everywhere.
"Um, well, you see..." Peter was never this inarticulate around me.
"Yes?" I prodded.
Peter bit his lip, looking around once more before focusing his gaze back on me. He shrugged. "It's spider web. I think."
I stared at him. "Explain."
He sighed, sitting down on his bed after climbing through the vast amount of – of – spider web.
"Well, I was, sort of – well, I was sort of bitten by a spider."
"And that resulted in this?"
"Well, yes. It was radioactive."
"Oh, that makes perfect sense now."
"I don't understand it either!" he exclaimed. "Look!" He stood up suddenly, lifting his wrist and aiming it at the opposite wall. Taking two fingers, he pressed them down against his hand. White web shot from his wrist to the opposite wall.
"Whoa!" This was great! "Is this like a permanent condition?"
Peter shrugged. "No idea. I passed out last night because I felt ill and then I woke up and things started sticking to me and I didn't need glasses and then..." He gestured generally to the rest of the room. "This happened."
I noticed for the first time he wasn't wearing glasses. "So you're like a human spider now?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Don't tell anyone, though."
"Aw, why not? This is so cool!"
Peter shook his head. "It may be cool, but if someone finds out – even Aunt May or Uncle Ben, I'll be researched and never let alone. I don't want to be stalked for being some sort of – of –"
"Spider Man," I offered.
"I suppose I understand," I said.
"Good! I knew I could count on you, Andy!"
"Peter? Andy?" Aunt May was knocking on the door. Peter and I exchanged a panicked look.
"I feel much better, Aunt May!" Peter called. "I'm getting dressed, so don't come in. I'll be right out!"
"Alright, Peter," Aunt May said. "Did Andy get your temperature?"
"Yes, it's perfectly normal."
"I've got some soup downstairs if you're interested. There's enough for Andy if he wants some."
"Thanks!" I called.
Aunt May's footsteps retreated back down the stairs.
I picked up the thermometer off the floor, waving it threateningly at Peter. "Super heroes don't lie."
"They have to in order to keep their identity a secret from enemies."
"Whatever, Spider Man. You'll always be my dopey brother to me."
A/N: Snow day equals write random stories about Spider Man. This was meant to be a crossover with Harry Potter, but I changed my mind halfway through. Written in about thirty minutes. Review, my buddies :)