Lord-Campione
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Chapter 03: Parker
🕑 Added 2024-09-19 17:51:54 +0000 UTC‘Oh fuck me.’ Ethan thought, wishing he wasn’t in Queens, New York, but Nebraska or some other hole where he could have a quiet start.
Out of all the nosy brats in the US of A, of all the kids in New York City with a Thesaurus shoved deep down their throat and way too many brain cells for such a small head, all the unlucky sods destined for a life of pain, misery and suffering which extends to those closest to them.
It had to be Peter F*cking Parker.
The awkward kid that would one day become the one and only Spider-Man, do please note the usage of the hyphen.
‘Well, nope.’ Ethan thought, there was no way in hell he was getting even remotely close to that mess.
None whatsoever.
No training him, no grooming him to become a somewhat half-decent vigilante, no trying to bag Aunt May for some reason, and he sure as heck wasn’t gonna become his surrogate big brother who spends half his free time taking care of him.
Ethan had enough issues as is, thank you very much.
Before Ethan could respond and hopefully remove all traces of Peter’s hope for a relationship that went beyond knowing each other’s name, the bell rang, signaling the end of recess.
At which point Peter shot up like an arrow and rushed back to the ‘classroom’, the only child eager to go back in the hole, something everyone else noted, judged and saved in their little brains in what would one day become their bullying criteria.
‘Free at last,’ The telekinetic powerhouse in the making thought, happy to have averted the cosmic misery called Peter Parker.
Until Spider-kid turned around and called out to him.
“Come on, Ethan, let’s get to class before Mrs. Miller has a fit!” He shouted as if there was any consequence or meaning to preschool attendance.
And why the fuck did he know his name?
“You’re Ethan Cain, right? I remember it from the attendance list.” Peter smiled proudly, as if he deserved a cookie.
Now the transmigrator did miss out on the teacher calling everyone, but in his defense, he was too busy being horrified by those two kids who swapped boogers in a display of juvenile gastronomic exchange.
Ethan nodded slowly, considering whether he should just tell him to go eat shit and accept the consequences, at least he would be safe from Peter’s halo of misery. On the other hand, his parents would be very disappointed and might lead to unforeseen consequences.
That, and Peter might not know what it means.
As they walked back toward the class, Ethan couldn’t shake the feeling that the man who said you should never meet your heroes truly knew what he was talking about.
Except that instead of being a pedophile, Spider-Man was talking his ears off and looking at him all day, making sure that he never has a second to practice his power.
He could feel the energy accumulate, could feel his power aching for release, for practice of any sort, his feeble reserves…or perhaps it was closer to endurance? He still couldn’t determine the exact nature of that which fuels his telekinesis, but he knew it was bursting at the seams.
If he doesn’t work it out of his system, another bout of unwanted release was bound to happen, and this time it wouldn’t be as simple as a floating shoe or crushing a loaf of bread.
He could feel each and every minute pass so unbearably slow, time spiting him and standing still while his power simply would not.
By the end of it, he had to resort to moving a branch from the oak tree he could see out of the open window, close enough to be within his range but could be blamed on the wind if some nosy bugger decide to mess with him yet another time, focusing on pushing the heavy structure up and down as his power slowly calmed down, continuing until he could feel the strain, could feel the struggle and impending failure.
Up and down.
Up and down.
Reach out with more than hands, grasp it firmly, control the amount of power required, supply the energy necessary for the task.
Eyes closed, all senses focused on the target for maximum precision.
Up and down.
“Ethan…Ethan…Ethan…”
Slowly but surely, he moved the heaviest object he’d ever attempted to move, fueled by fear of losing control, an overabundance of energy and sheer spite directed at one Peter Parker.
“Ethan!” He felt a hand on his shoulder, and almost punched the intruder right in the face.
Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how deep your anger issues go, his feeble and immature body lacked the reflexes honed through years in high school surrounded by very good friends who wouldn’t think twice about collectively nutting on his vanilla ice cream if he wasn’t careful.
These guys would take a bullet for him.
Alas the opportunity was lost.
Forcibly pushed out of his thoughts, and not too pleased about it, he looked up to see which breathing shit-stain thought it was alright to go around being so touchy-feely with him.
He was abound to Jared from Subway their arse into jail if they don’t have a bloody good reason.
The thoughts of ruining someone’s life for absolutely no reason left his brain, replaced by an existential distaste as he saw the unseemly mug of one round glasses-wearing, brown-haired, teacher-sucking Peter Benjamin Parker.
“What do you want?” He said, and yet another time Ethan cursed his squeaky, adorable kid voice.
Nobody can take you seriously when you sound like Kid Son Gohan.
“Class is over, it’s time to go home.” Peter mumbled, shuffling his feet.
Now if Ethan was talking to a cute girl, it would be adorable as hell, but since it was a little boy and our man was neither Drake nor Diddy, it was only a bit annoying.
One look around at the young kids chatting and picking their stuff, standing in pairs to form a line and waiting for the teacher to get them safely back to their parents who were waiting outside the school’s premises.
Yes, it was time to go home.
He noted the way time seemed to pass so quickly while he was focused on the task, gathered his stuff and joined the line, his buddy of course being the same major annoyance.
Annoyance that was absolutely elated to spend more time with him, if the sheepish smile was anything to go by.
He had nothing against kids, but he’d rather not be one of them, or play babysitter for one that didn’t share his blood, or that of someone he cared about.
That’s just his own personal opinion.
Said kid being the man who would tolerate the existence of Paul and Mary Jane Watson only made things worse…poor guy.
Nobody liked a cuck, even one in the making.
“Did I tell you about how Santa gave me a brand new Little Chemist Set?” He squeaked and started a brand new assault on Ethan’s eardrums.
An uninterrupted rampage against his peace of mind, word after word, question after question, the urge to get out of there getting greater and greater until the fateful moment came.
When he saw his father, the absolute unit of a man, waving at him with a huge smile and the most wholesome expression in existence.
His salvation, a forty-year-old’s country-club chick’s worst nightmare.
Ethan all but dragged Peter to the exit, eager to go home and do something productive, like taking a nap, or training his telekinetic control, or taking a nap.
A nap was looking real good right now.
Alas things rarely went as planned.
“Oh, you made a new friend, Peter?” The booming voice of a middle-aged man stopped him in his tracks, and then he saw him.
A tall man, reasonably fit but with a bit of a dad body, that persistent belly fat that hid some remarkable strength capable of overcoming even the most stubborn of pickle jars.
With his few laugh lines and wrinkles that did nothing to mar the vigor and energy from the man’s face, the mighty beard, well groomed and painted in the same salt and pepper colors as his hair.
The man cut an impressive figure in his own way, one that screamed ‘I’m a great dad’ to everyone, it was almost like an aura.
And of course he would possess such a thing.
The one and only.
The man himself.
The first to weaponize disappointment.
The absolute chad who bagged Aunt May.
The person who arguably saved the world many times, at the expense of one awkward kid’s happiness…but that was mostly the writers.
“Uncle Ben!” Peter grinned, as if he caught a huge fish, Ethan wasn’t sure if he liked the comparison no matter how accurate it felt, “Yes, his name is Ethan, he also likes science and video games!”
When did he say that?
They were not friends.
In fact, he’d rather not be an acquaintance.
As a matter of fact, he should probably ask his parent to put him in another preschool.
Ben Parker looked at his nephew with a mix of surprise, happiness and a whole lot of relief.
Things a child would miss on his bearded, slightly wrinkled face, but Ethan caught right away.
Even he knew his charge would have trouble with people.
“That's great, Peter—true friends are a treasure, and they’ll be with you through thick and thin.” Uncle Ben said, now utterly beaming.
Ethan stood there, feeling the weight of Ben Parker's words press on him like an invisible force, only this one he couldn’t move or manipulate. He watched Peter light up, clearly thrilled that his uncle seemed so pleased with the connection. Ethan, on the other hand, felt trapped—like he was being pulled into something he didn’t want any part of.
Which was fairly accurate.
Ethan’s father approached with a grin that was all teeth. He was a towering figure, broad-shouldered and imposing, but to Ethan, he was just Dad. “Well, well, looks like my boy’s made a friend too,” he said, clapping Ethan on the back with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of him.
“Yeah, they seem to hit it off,” Uncle Ben responded, his voice warm. “Peter doesn’t usually make friends this easily.”
Ethan tried to keep his face neutral as the adults exchanged pleasantries, but the idea of spending more time with Peter—this overly friendly, science-loving, motor-mouthed kid—was already exhausting him. He had important things to do, real things. He couldn’t afford to waste time being a normal kid, especially not with someone who looked at the world through innocent, wide eyes. Peter was a problem—a loud, persistent, unshakable problem.
A problem he already had to convince that he was not in fact a super-powered individual.
‘F*ck those super-genius brains.’ He cursed, but his brain was already coming up with ways to work around it without too much damage.
“Maybe we can set up a playdate for them,” Ethan’s dad suggested, and before he could protest, both Peter and Ben were nodding enthusiastically.
“That’d be great!” Peter chirped, looking up at Ethan with that same sheepish grin. “Maybe we can do some science experiments together. I’ve got this new chemistry set that—”
Ethan didn’t hear the rest. His mind was already spinning, calculating how this would affect his training, how he could keep Peter at arm’s length without raising suspicion.
Every minute spent with Peter was a minute wasted, a minute he couldn’t use to refine his telekinesis, to push his limits and master his abilities.
But more than that, Peter was dangerous.
In a few years when Ethan had a good enough control over his power and some familiarity with this world, some practice as Ethan the kid from New York, the one that wouldn’t reference things that didn’t exist or talk about events that have yet to happen, then dealing with Peter or even Reed Richards, curse his cucked self, wouldn’t be that big of a problem.
But now, this was simply terrible.
“Well, it’s settled then,” Uncle Ben said, sealing Ethan’s fate with a smile. “We’ll figure out a day that works for everyone.”
Ethan forced a smile, though it felt like his face might crack from the effort.
Now he could say he says he doesn’t like Peter, but he would have to deal with a lesson on how you should be more tolerant of others and open to making new friends despite the differences.
He was after all just a child, and the Parkers seemed like they were good people, good enough that his dad and Ben agreed to go out for a beer tonight if the ladies in their life were fine with it.
As the adults continued to chat, planning out a day that would likely involve science experiments and video games and way too little exercise. Ethan started thinking about ways to practice optimally, to do so despite Peter or his parent’s presence, in a way that betrayed nothing but a busy mind…
Peter’s voice broke his concentration again, drawing his attention back to the present. “This is gonna be so much fun!” he said, completely oblivious to the storm brewing in Ethan’s mind.
“Yeah,” Ethan muttered, glancing away as his power continued to simmer beneath the surface, waiting. So much fun.
He didn’t know when, but at some point, Peter would stop being just an annoyance. The feelings brewing inside him weren’t just frustration—they were something deeper, darker. It was the beginning of something far worse than simple dislike.
And Ethan could feel it growing with every forced interaction, every playdate, every time he had to hold back his power to avoid suspicion.
One day, Peter would understand.
And on that day, Ethan wouldn’t hold back anymore.
