After work, Peter went out for a swing before he was to meet up with Mary Jane. The day had ended up going well for the most part, but he'd still been unable to shake the sour feeling left in him after his blowup with Jonah. The man's reputation proceeded him, especially when it came to all things Spider-Man, but the man was still going through a lot right now. He'd found out that John and his partner were both being kept largely in isolation in the hospital, with visitation being heavily restricted. Having to fight to even see one's own son would mess with anybody, much less a man like that.

As he swung through the city though, Peter also thought back to his many run ins with Jonah during the man's time as Editor-In Chief there. From the beginning, the man had been dead set against Spider-Man, his editorials calling him every bad name under the sun and twisting every good deed he did, attempting to make it seem like he was either the direct cause of it or was just a glory hog seeking attention. No matter how much Peter had tried, it never mattered; Jonah was set in his ways, and he would never hear differently.

Peter picked up speed as these thoughts circled around in his mind, his frustration gradually turning to anger, his blood slowly beginning to boil. Realizing that he was letting himself get carried away, he grabbed onto an oncoming flagpole, flipping around and placing his feet against it as well, coming to a stop. He then took in a couple of breaths, lifting his mask just enough so that his mouth could suck in the air around him better. After a few moments, his mind started to settle down.

Why had he gotten so worked up in the first place though? Yes, he had issues with Jameson, and probably always would, but what he was feeling just now seemed a little...extreme. He knew that occasionally, certain situations would get him worked up, but this little run in was rather insignificant in comparison to some of the other times he went toe to toe with a man who had a reputation of being the most vicious newspaperman in the city. The more Peter thought about it, the more he felt just a little ridiculous.

Ultimately, he fired another web and decided to swing for a little bit longer before heading back to his place, opting to put the whole situation behind him.

He knew that Jameson had hardly ever bothered with what he'd thought about him, so why should he care?

"Alright, what do you think?"

When he received no response to his question, Peter glanced over at his fiancé. M.J. appeared to be looking at the image of the save-the-dates that he'd designed to send out for their wedding, but a good look into her eyes told him that her mind was clearly somewhere else.

"M.J?" he asked, waving his hand in front of her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, clearly shaken out of her trance. "Yeah, they're great. You did a wonderful job with them."

"Thanks," Peter replied. "Now, you want to tell me what's been bothering you? I'm guessing it's whatever you were alluding to this morning, but you seem to have been avoiding it ever since we got started."

"Yeah," Mary Jane replied with a sigh. "It was another long day at work, so I forgot after a while, but then going over this made me remember again that I'm going to have to figure it out sooner or later."

Peter said nothing, instead just shifting his position on the chair so that his whole body was now directly facing her as he gave her his full attention. His fiancé's gaze shifted downward for a moment, like she still wasn't even sure if she wanted to speak about whatever was bothering her.

"It's my sister," she finally explained, looking back at Peter.

"Oh, right," Peter replied, nodding. He really should have seen this coming, given the rough history that Mary Jane had shared with him regarding her relationship with the woman.

"I want to invite her, it's just...I'm not sure there would be a point to it," M.J. continued. "There's no way that she would want to come, not after how things went down between us."

"M.J, that was years ago," Peter assured her. "Maybe she wants to try again too."

His fiancé looked away again, swallowing.

"I left her, Peter," she said, her tone more sorrowful than before. "I left her just when she needed me the most. She took care of me all those years after mom died while dad was losing himself to alcohol; the least I could have done was be there for her."

Now it was Peter's turn to look down as he contemplated what to say that could encourage her.

"I have a lot of regrets in my life too," he said, "and one of the biggest is when my uncle tried to show me how irresponsible I was being. Like you were back then, I was so focused on doing what I felt I needed to do, what I WANTED to do, that I just ignored a responsibility that I had. Then, before I had the chance to fix things with him, he was taken from me. My last memory of Uncle Ben before he died was the look he had on his face as I just ripped into him before leaving the house that night."

Peter then reached over and took his fiancé's hand in his own.

"I'm not trying to say that you have to invite her or not; that's up to you," he said. "I just don't want you to regret not taking the time to try and patch things up with her before it's too late. Who knows, maybe sending out the invite will be the olive branch she needs?"

Mary Jane smiled lightly at him, adjusting her hand so that she was properly gripping his now as well.

"I do want her there," she clarified. "It would mean the world to me, but I think that I should just reach out to her in general first. If I can find the time, maybe I can even make a trip back home to see her."

"You think your dad might want to come too?" Peter asked.

"Maybe, but I want it to be just me first," Mary Jane explained. "A Watson family reunion might be better happening a little bit at a time instead of all at once."

"I get it," Peter replied, nodding.

M.J. shifted position as well, so that she was facing him now, her other hand coming over top of the one of his that she already had.

"Thanks, Tiger," she said, an earnest smile adorning her face. "You always know what to say."

"Nah," Peter said, shrugging her compliment off. "I just say a bunch of stuff and just hope that something sticks. I am sorry; I know I got awful morbid on you back there. I just..."

She reached forward, planting a kiss on his lips and shutting him up.

"Sometimes just taking a compliment is a good thing too," she said.

Peter let out a slight huff, feeling his cheeks stretch as he smiled back at her.

"Nah, I can't do that," he teased. "I have a neurotic, self-deprecating image to maintain."

"Uh huh," M.J. replied dryly. "You know, for someone who would claim something like that, and occasionally back it up from time to time, you seem to be in a pretty good mood."

"What can I say?" Peter said, "I'm getting married to the most beautiful woman on the planet. Why shouldn't I be happy?"

"Well, considering the fact that you texted me about needing some time to go swinging after work, which you usually do when something in particular is on your mind, it's not what I expected," Mary Jane explained.

"Oh yeah, that," Peter replied. "I just had a bit of a blowup with Jonah earlier when he came by. I mean, he just straight up accused me, or technically me at least, with having something to do with the shuttle crash, without having even a shred of evidence to back it up."

"Oh wow, that's harsh," M.J. said.

"Yeah," Peter acknowledged. "I was probably harder on him than I should have been, but at the same time, he's just always been this way, you know? Anyway, the whole thing was on my mind for a while, but I'm past it now. I just decided that I'm not going to let Ol' Jolly Jonah get to me, especially when I have so much reason to celebrate. After all, I did lock down my best man today."

"You're kidding," M.J. replied. "Eddie agreed to it?"

"Yep," Peter replied happily. "I'm not going to lie, I was kind of surprised too, but I guess he was able to put the water under the bridge between us again so to speak. I just hope that I don't end up having to duck out on him or do something else to make him upset again and just blow it."

"Well, unlike my sister and I, you two tend to patch things up pretty quickly most times," M.J. reassured him. "I don't see any reason why things won't go a bit smoother between you guys."

Eddie looked around as he came up to the proposed meeting area, not seeing anyone initially. Sticking close to the diner at first, he then went across the street, keeping his head on a swivel the whole time. Still, he saw no one trying to get his attention, despite him wearing his press badge to indicate who he was.

"This was a bad idea," Eddie thought to himself. Really, he'd been thinking something along those lines ever since he'd received that mysterious call in the first place. The way that he figured, it was likely either a trap or a prank, neither one of those things obviously being good for him. He'd wrestled with whether he should even go, but his journalistic curiosity had ultimately won out. He hadn't said anything to Anne about it though; she texted him earlier to say that the assistant D.A. had been out sick and was behind on some stuff that was important, so she'd be staying late to try and get ahead.

With any luck, she would never even need to know about this.

As Eddie neared the alley, someone grabbed onto him by his jacket. Reacting quickly, he overpowered his attacker, pinning him against the wall.

"So, this was all to take me out, huh?" he questioned. "Who are you, anyway?"

To his surprise, the guy just chuckled at his question.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I have to admit, I'm impressed," the man finally answered him. "Most of you city reporters are just a bunch of pushovers, but you, you have some fight in you. I like that."

"Yeah? Well, you're going to like it even more when I drag you straight to jail," Eddie threatened. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Relax, tough guy," the man said, maintaining his composure despite his present situation. "I was just trying to get you in here so we can talk without drawing any unnecessary attention to ourselves. After all, what I'm offering is what you might call 'sensitive information.'"

Staring down the man, Eddie finally relented, releasing his grip on the gentleman, who straightened his jacket.

"Alright, that's more like it," he said. "Oh, before we get started though, I have a request."

"Yeah," Eddie replied, not amused by the guy so far. "What's that?"

"I would appreciate if allow me a certain degree of anonymity," the gentleman responded.

Eddie crossed his arms, eyeing the man. The frustrating thing was that he'd always prided himself on doing exactly that: protecting his sources that didn't care for public exposure. However, he was more and more getting the sense that the man was asking this for far less noble reasons than people he usually did this with. Sure, he was going after the bigger fish so to speak, but this whole thing made him squirm a little.

"As long as you don't give me a need to say anything, then yes, I'll protect your identity," he finally answered the man. "However, I will admit that I am curious as to how you supposedly know who new Kingpin, Big Man or whatever he's called these days is."

For the first time, the smile came off the man's face, a bitter expression slowly overtaking it.

"He used to be one of us, really," the man said. "We all used to run together, but then he got his opportunity and made the big time, and now...now he's afraid to show the world who he really is. He's turned his back on who he really is. That's why I'm here."

Eddie, working through his growing concerns over the kind of person that he was speaking with, started to ask his next question before something unexpected happened: the man in front of him was shot twice, collapsing almost instantaneously. Eddie quickly dragged the man behind a dumpster in the alleyway. He waited for a second, huddled up against the side of the dumpster. Eventually, a man in a ski mask jumped in front, but Eddie quickly reached up, wrestling with the man for his gun.

After a brief struggle, he managed to disarm his attacker, but the guy managed to break free from his grip and take off down the street. Eddie would have pursued him directly, were it not for the injured man next to him. He quickly ran over, bending down beside him. The guy tried to say something, but struggled to get anything other than blood out of his mouth.

"Easy," Eddie said, taking out is phone. "I'm calling 911."

The man shook his head, making what looked like a writing motion with his hand. Taking a guess as to the man's meaning, Eddie took out his notepad and pen and offered it to the gentleman, who took it quickly as his body began to tremble. Steadying himself, he wrote something, handing back the pad before collapsing, gasping his last breath.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Eddie quickly explained what had happened, giving their location as well. As his mind tried to process what he'd experienced in such a short time this evening, he glanced down at the notepad to see what the man had written. All he noticed were three letters.

"LTL."

Hope you're still enjoying it! Can't wait to get even more into the thick of things here soon!

Continuing to pray for you all; stay safe and healthy!

"Better the poor whose walk is blameless than the rich whose ways are perverse." Proverbs 28:6