The Hero's Children (A Second Generation Peter Parker Fic)

Chapter Two

Caleb jumped when a locker close to him slammed shut, drawing him out of the trance he was in. He was standing in front of a school trophy display, looking at the Debate Team from 1992.

They were the only team in the school history to ever to win a national championship, and Caleb felt a bit proud to see Gwen Stacy standing in the picture.

Gwen Stacy is his and Taryn's mother. She was the smart, blonde haired teenager that worked at Oscorp before she even graduated High school.

Now, she's one of the head Scientists in the state of New York. She is the person that founded new technology to help people, and Caleb wanted to do just the same.

In the bottom right-hand corner, there was a small phrase that Caleb only has to go by that lets him know that his dad even exists.

Midtown High Debate Team 1992

Courtesy of Peter Parker

He carries his dad's last name, Parker, and that is the only thing that he has given them except life. Caleb hasn't found any pictures of him anywhere, not even in the yearbook.

It mind boggled him that there wasn't a trace of him anywhere, other than this name on an old picture.

The third bell rang, and Caleb sighed. He was always late to his third class, mainly because he always stops at this trophy display to see if there is anything different that might help him find his father.

Caleb took one last glance into the trophy case, and squinted into his reflection when he saw something dark towering over him.

Suddenly, Caleb was being pushed up against a locker, his face smashing into the open slits painfully and his backpack falling onto the floor.

"Late for class, Parker?" An annoyingly familiar voice said behind him. Caleb rolled his eyes into the locker, looking at Jarrett through the corner of his eyes.

"Late for getting another concussion, Thompson?" He fired back.

Jarrett chuckled, pushing his forearm off of Caleb's shoulder blades and adjusting his backpack strap. "No, but I'm late for your sister," he said with a devilish grin.

Caleb straightened himself away from the locker, picking up his backpack and slipping his arms through the straps.

"And I'll be the first one to see Jarrett Thompson get his ass kicked by a girl." Caleb said scornfully.

Jarrett shrugged, before getting inches from Caleb's face. "We both know what she will do to me when I see her."

He banged his fist against the locker beside Caleb's head, causing him to jump a bit, despite the glare he still held. Jarrett snickered, walking back down the hall with a smile on his face.

Caleb rubbed his cheek, hissing when he felt three fresh cuts right below his cheekbone.

He made a bee-line into the bathroom, standing over a sink to examine the extent of the damage in the mirror.

They looked pretty shallow, but they stretched alongside his face like claw marks. Caleb mentally cursed the locker slits for being insanely sharp.

He lightly traced one cut with his finger, grazing over the assaulted skin. The movement felt like lemon juice on a paper cut, and he yanked his hand away like it was a disease.

He couldn't hide the cuts, unless he raided Taryn's locker for some kind of foundation. But, that would only make them infected and Taryn was 20 shades tanner than he was.

Caleb exhaled harshly, adjusting his glasses in the mirror before leaving the bathroom to his class.

They were about ten minutes in, but Caleb already knew what they were learning today, and the next couple of years after.