CHAPTER ONE
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i. find a penny !

— THE EXISTENCE OF LIGHT IMPLIES THE EXISTENCE OF DARKNESS. Darkness cannot exist without its opposite, and similarly, light cannot exist without shadow. This is the most basic, fundamental point of being. Good implies bad. Black implies white. Life implies death- or, death implies life. Death cannot exist without life, for one cannot die without first having lived. This is a comforting thought, disguised as something else entirely. We become melancholy with this idea that the end is inevitable; it weighs on our minds, in the murky, lightless existence behind our eyelids. It cripples us. Deforms us. Plagues us with an incessant worry.

Many seem to forget that an end can only exist in the presence of a beginning. This is when the thought becomes a consoling one to anyone who knew the famed Lionel LaFrance. His life was brief, and yet, it was.

These thoughts, as intense and stirring as they were, weren't even a glimpse in Peter Parker's eye this breezy Queens morning. In fact, his mind was entirely preoccupied by the test he was surely going to miss if he didn't make it to school in the next five minutes.

"Sorry!" He shouted behind him, nearly tripping over his untied laces in his hurry, as the backpack hanging off his left shoulder bucked into a passerby's arm.

Groaning as he came to a stop in front of the one crosswalk that he swore could always smell fear, he reserved the idea that he was most definitely going to be late as the little 'stop' symbol practically mocked him from the other side of the street.

Deciding to take what would surely be a good few minutes and make use of his forced running break, Peter absentmindedly leaned down to his beat up sneakers, going to tie the frayed laces before realising they hadn't actually been untied in the first place. Standing again, this time with furrowed brows, he hikes up his bag and doesn't have much more time to dwell on how truly uncoordinated he must be to have been tripping over his own two feet, as a beeping caught his attention and he lifted his head to witness, in awe, the crosswalk symbol changing and announcing his entry back into the race.

Peter took off like a shot, mumbling apologies to those he pushed past as he miraculously got closer and closer to Midtown, not once pausing until he had climbed the stairs, burst through the doors, manoeuvred between the crowd, and finally came to a stop in front of his locker, cracking open the lock with practised ease and two minutes to spare.

The comfort of having more time than expected did nothing to soothe his frantic movements, nearly tearing the flimsy zipper of his bag in his mindless rush, trying to cram the light grey material into his locker while fishing through the backpack for his necessary books. His cheeks turned red as people side-eyed his ongoing battle with his too-small locker, causing him to embarrassingly give up and recollect his things into an awkward pile in his arms, slamming the offending locker shut and shuffling away from prying stares.

With the shrill bell reigniting his sense of urgency, just as his beat up sneakers hit the final step of the first floor, Peter begins to pick up his pace towards his dreaded Spanish class.

"Dude, I thought you were gonna be late!" Without a second thought, Peter's hand shot out and grabbed the nylon handle of the nearest backpack, dragging the attached person along with him.

"Yeah, me too." Peter muttered as his best friend, Ned Leeds, came to sprint gracelessly yet diligently at his side.

"What about Satan's crosswalk? Y'know, my cousin- the one with the lazy eye- he got caught up there for a whole hour once." Ned recounted, hiking up his backpack by the straps.

"Wait- you mean Klaus? Cousin Klaus? Isn't he like- legally blind?"

"Yeah, but he still waited there, and-..." As he trailed off, Ned slowed his pace and came to a stop in the now empty hallway.

Peter sighed when he noticed the absence of his friend, glancing longingly at the door to their Spanish classroom as he reluctantly turned around, speaking in a hushed voice, "Dude, Mr Iglesias is gonna kill us-"

"There's a lot of theories going around... About his death, y'know?" Ned spoke, his attention fixated on the wall before them.

Confused, Peter glanced at the cause of their distraction, his gaze softening as the urgency in the back of his mind subsided and he observed the tragic masterpiece.

"He seemed so nice." Ned couldn't tear his eyes away from the large, vivid mural that now took up the greater part of the space between two separate rows of lockers. They had seen it as a sketch. A glimpse in an artist's eye. Though that couldn't possibly do justice to the completed image.

It demanded attention, and Peter was unsure of how he hadn't noticed its progress before.

It was the picture of quiet sorrow, for a boy too young to be missed. In the boy's expression there was an untouched peacefulness, and the golden halo paired with the array of flowers presented to look like wings that surrounded his resting figure spoke volumes of a legacy not soon to be forgotten.

"They did a good job." The words tumbled from his mouth as Peter stared in awe at the painted tribute. "Gracie and Eli, I mean- and that weird girl, with the sketch."

"Yeah, it's really colourful..." Ned agreed solemnly, seemingly unable to come up with anything more profound, but feeling heavy with distant grief, before snapping back to his previous demeanour, "Wait- crosswalk. We were talking about Satan's crosswalk."

"Minor inconvenience." Peter shrugged, reluctantly pulling his attention away from the mural, "I got lucky."

His sentence died on his tongue as the loud bang of a classroom door being thrown open and snapping them back into the reality of their situation as their Spanish teacher bolted down the hallway towards the bathroom, holding damp tissues to his coffee-stained button down.

After a moment of stunned silence, Peter spoke up, "Guess we won't be late to class now."

Ned nudged his arm excitedly, "Did you pick up a lucky penny? Can I borrow it?"

"Come on." Peter, amused by Ned's antics, laughed with a lighthearted eye-roll as he pushed the boy along.

Quickly navigating to their seats, conveniently situated right next to one another, Peter allowed the pile of books, papers and miscellaneous knick knacks to collapse in a heap on his desk, beginning to organise everything into his own well-kept chaos.

"I don't know how lucky I am," Peter remarked as he stacked his textbooks haphazardly in the corner and searched the rest of his mess, "I'm like- 100% sure I forgot a pencil."

"Hey, don't diss the luck, or you'll stop having it. Don't you know how those things work?"

Peter disregarded the idea with a half-hearted shrug, "It's not luck, it's just been a good morning."

Immediately eating his words, Peter stared at the bottom of his backpack in confusion, stuffing his hand in and pulling out four perfectly sharpened pencils and displaying them to Ned, who sported an equally perplexed look on his face.

"Dude, I didn't even think you owned four pencils." Ned stated bluntly.

"I don't? I didn't." Peter tilted his head and placed the pencils on his desk, trying to rationalise the sudden hoard of writing utensils, "Maybe Aunt May snuck them in?"

"Or," Ned began with an enthused glint in his eyes, "It's the luck."

"There is no luck!"

Ned nodded in acquiescence, a mock understanding in his behaviour, allowing the two to fall into a comfortable silence that was soon broken by Ned's excited tone.

"Can I see the penny?"

author's note

this is a chapter brought to you by our Thankmas fundraising efforts!! $150.00 on day one is unfathomable and unexpected I literally thought I'd have more time to prepare before you smashed that goal, but remind me not to underestimate you guys 😭😭

more chapters and more fundraising incentives are on their way, I prOmise, so keep up the amazing work <3