Once his fiancé had taken care of a couple work-related matters, Peter and her quickly left, taking the bus back to Queens. Though he felt better after at least talking with M.J, there was still an undercurrent of nervousness within him. There was something in his mind that kept wanting to dismiss these things, that wanted to downplay them as if they were no big deal. Maybe he really was overreacting? Perhaps Mary Jane was right earlier about how it was just a combination of circumstances getting to him.

He kept coming back to Robbie's words from earlier though: "let it go." Normally, that would be exactly what he'd be unable to do after anyone of his recent blow ups, especially with M.J. He'd be worrying about if he'd said or done something that would push her away and would be chastising himself for losing it like that in the first place. He knew that he would be comparing himself to her father, more specifically how M.J. had described him when he was in his drunken state. He'd remind himself that he was supposed to be better than that, that Mary Jane deserved better.

Instead, he'd simply blown it all off in his mind, each time his thoughts immediately turning to the next course of action.

It was all this that Peter shared with his aunt once he and M.J. arrived at the house. He opened up about everything, discussing the incidents with Jonah and Eddie, and how it took Robbie speaking at length to him about his recent behavioral patterns for him to notice them. Through it all, May listened intently and patiently, just as she always did.

"Are you sure that goo stuff that you were talking about before didn't get on you?" his aunt asked.

"No," Peter reassured her. "I would think that I would have seen it by now."

"Okay," May replied. "Well, I mean, you do tend to hit your head a lot when you're out there, so it could always be all those times starting to mess with your brain, but I tend to agree with M.J. It's probably just all the stress of what's happening right now getting to you."

Peter rubbed his hands together as he pondered her thought, ultimately shaking his head.

"I just really think it's something else though," he explained. "I'm just not sure what."

"Well, are you sure there's not something that you're forgetting?" May asked.

"I don't know," Peter replied, trying to think as he ran his head through his hair. M.J.'s gentle hand rubbing against his shoulders wasn't doing as much to calm him down as it normally would either.

"Look, why don't you just stay here for the evening?" May suggested.

"I appreciate it May, but don't you have to be at the hospital really early?" Peter questioned.

"I'll be fine," May explained. "We'll all just relax and maybe you'll feel better about all of this after tonight. If you don't, we'll try and figure something else out tomorrow."

"Okay," Peter replied with a sigh as he relented.

"Good," she said. "I'll fire up that leftover lasagna from the other night that you promised me you would still eat."

"Okay," Peter said with a chuckle.

"Is there anything else you would particularly like, Mary Jane?"

"No thanks, I'm not too hungry right now," Peter's fiancé replied kindly. "Thank you though."

May then left to get things going in the kitchen, leaving Peter and M.J. alone.

"It's okay," M.J. said, taking his hand and rubbing it as she tried to reassure him.

Peter nodded but said nothing in reply, dropping his gaze down to the floor.

"What is it?" M.J. asked.

Peter shook his head again.

"I really don't deserve you."

"Peter..."

"I'm serious, M.J," Peter spoke up, drawing her gaze back towards him again. "Look, I know it's just kind of my thing to be all self-deprecating and neurotic, but I really mean that right now. Whether I really am just overly stressed or something outside of my control is happening, the way I've treated you these last couple of days is inexcusable. I've yelled at you and brushed you off when you clearly needed me, and I'm sorry."

M.J. averted her eyes for a moment, making it difficult for Peter to read how she might be processing his apology. After a moment, however, she smiled at him.

"I won't lie," she said, "I do really appreciate that. But I know you well enough by now to know that those times aren't who you really are. Besides, aren't we getting ready to do the whole 'in good times and in bad' thing?"

Peter let out a huff.

"Yeah, I guess we are. Anyway, you said this morning that there was something that you wanted to talk about. What was it?"

"No, Peter, we're not here to deal with that right now," his fiancé replied, shaking her head.

"Come on," he urged her.

"Nope, your aunt said that we are here to relax and take it easy," M.J. argued.

Peter paused for an extra second, looking M.J. in the eye before he spoke up again, his voice more earnest this time.

"Weren't you the one just talking about the whole 'in good times and bad' thing?"

M.J. looked away again, though it didn't go unnoticed by Peter that her grip on his hand tightened.

"It's about your sister, isn't it?"

M.J. let out a sigh.

"That good huh?"

"Yeah," M.J. conceded, "pretty much."

"Did she at least talk to you?" Peter asked, hoping to find something positive about the encounter to point his fiancé towards.

M.J. nodded.

"I offered to help her, and for a moment, I almost thought that I was getting through," she explained. "But she basically told me that she didn't want my help, or anything to do with me, really."

Peter squeezed her hand, gently rubbing the top of hers with his free one.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I don't know," M.J. replied, shaking her head. "I want to help her, but I'm afraid that I might make things worse."

"Hey," Peter muttered, gently cupping her chin in his fingers, rotating her face so they were eye to eye again. "You also could make it better, you know."

M.J. hesitated; her lips seemed to almost flicker between a smile and a more neutral expression, likely indicative of the battle going on inside her mind.

"Maybe," she said, her lips finally settling on a smile.

For a while after that, the rest of the evening went very well. Peter's appetite certainly had returned, as he ate most of the leftover lasagna before digging into some leftover meatloaf May had been keeping in the fridge as well. On top of all that, May also ended up making some chocolate chip cookies, which Peter freely indulged himself in as well, though his aunt still made certain he knew at least some self-control despite his enhanced metabolism.

Once dinner was finished, M.J. suggested that May break out some old family videos from Peter's childhood, much to his chagrin. He opted to be a good sport about it though, so they watched a few ranging from Peter's first day in swim lessons at age seven to his tenth birthday party. The worst one though was easily the one where he won the fifth-grade science fair award and was up on stage accepting it in in front of everyone.

"I still can't believe you made me where that awful purple bowtie," he lamented, putting his hand over his eyes to shield them from the horrific view.

"Oh, come on," May argued. "It's not that bad."

"Yeah, it was," Peter insisted, leaning forward and gesturing with his hand toward the abomination before him. "Uncle Ben thought so too!"

"That's because your uncle didn't have any fashion sense," May rebuffed. "He'd wear the same button up shirt every day if I didn't by him new clothes every so often!"

"Okay," Peter said, already turning to M.J. "Why don't we ask the fashion expert over here."

"No no," M.J. insisted, throwing her hands up. "I'm not getting in the middle of this debate."

"Oh come on," Peter pleaded, "don't you agree that the bowtie doesn't work well with anything else I'm wearing?"

M.J. glanced back at the TV, her lips pursed, which indicated she was either holding back a thought or was contemplating his question.

"I mean... it is hard to go wrong with blue or black for a reason."

Peter clapped his hands, leaning back into his seat in victory.

"I told you," he said to May, "and also, those glasses are way too big!"

"Oh, really Peter?" his aunt questioned. "They were fine."

"They made my eyes look four times bigger!" Peter argued.

"I actually kind of like them," Mary Jane countered.

Peter turned to her, his mind blown by this seeming change in her allegiance.

"What?" he gasped.

"They're kind of cute on you actually," she explained.

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Peter questioned.

"I thought I was the fashion expert?" M.J. challenged, leaning in and giving him a smirk. "You do trust the fashion expert, right?"

Peter really wanted to say something snappy, but surprisingly, nothing came out. His fiancé was technically correct; he was the one to proclaim her the fashion expert of the room. Before the defeat could sink in too greatly though, the familiar sound of the crime alert app on his phone went off. He pulled it out of his pocket to see what all the fuss was about as silence otherwise fell over the room.

"There's a car chase back in the city," Peter explained, already putting his phone away. "Apparently, the police are pursuing some hijacked semi."

"Are you sure you'll be alright out there?" May questioned.

"I'll be fine," he reassured them. "With any luck, I might even be back soon."

He then gave M.J. a quick kiss, with Peter's fiancé mouthing for him to be careful before he quickly took his leave from the house. Finding a quiet spot in the neighborhood, he performed his usual quick change into his costume. He then took off on foot until he reached an area with high enough buildings to start web swinging. All the while, he kept tabs on the direction of the chase even as he crossed the Queensboro Bridge back into Manhattan.

Finally, the scene in question came into view. Peter observed as four police cars pursued a large semi-truck. The bizarre thing about this whole scenario was that for all he'd listened to in the police reports, he'd never heard about any valuable cargo the thing was carrying. Why would someone just steal a truck with an empty trailer? Was there some greater purpose behind the whole thing? The first order of priority was still stopping the runaway trailer though, so Peter got straight to it, getting close enough for releasing his web and landing on the top of the cab. However, when he peered inside through the driver's side window, he found no one was driving the cab. Someone was driving the thing remotely somehow!

Moving quickly, Peter scoured the outside and inside for a device of some kind through which someone could be controlling the cab remotely. Something soon caught his eye near the gas and brake pedals, so he popped the door open and reached inside. When his spider sense didn't react, he tugged at the device, breaking it free of its grip on the vehicle. The cab and its haul slowed down almost instantly, so Peter quickly got in and stepped on the brake, bringing it safely to a halt.

Of all the ways that he'd envisioned, ever getting behind the wheel of a vehicle, this certainly hadn't been one of them.

Once the vehicle was stopped, Peter hopped out, still carrying the device as the police pulled up behind him, with several officers emerging from their cars.

"Here's your culprit," Peter said, tossing the device to the nearest officer. "Someone attached it below the wheel and used it to take this thing for a little joyride."

"You mean there was never anyone in there?" one cop to Peter's right asked incredulously.

"I'm afraid not," he said, "just someone out there wanting to take VR to a whole new level maybe."

Just before he could swing back, the cop holding the device spoke up again.

"Uh, Spidey, I think that you should see this."

He then tossed the device back to Peter, who caught it and turned it right side up. This time, there appeared to be a small screen that had been revealed. As he examined it, words in blue came across the screen; Peter recognized the address as being in the Harlem area.

"Come alone."

After that, the screen darkened once more, the device shutting down.

"What is it?" the cop who'd passed the message back asked. Peter said nothing in response, however, simply handing it back to the officer before firing a web and swinging off in the direction of the address. He had no idea who had staged this whole thing, as this was not the marker of any known adversary of his. On top of that, he knew that this was more than likely a trap, but if whoever was behind this was willing to involve the city in their feud with him, then he was willing to take the chance if it meant ending this.

Perhaps part of him looked forward to the challenge.

By the time Peter arrived on the scene, the sun had all but disappeared over the Manhattan skyline. The address in question had ended up leading him to a junkyard of all places. He released his web, performing a backward somersault before landing in his trademark crouched position in the center of the area. He then slowly stood up, bracing himself for whatever may come.

When he was greeted only by the sounds of silence and the view of junk piles, Peter began strolling through the place, his senses all on high alert as he braced for an attack at any moment. Even after about twenty steps, however, there was nothing, and Peter wondered if he'd simply been tricked into some dumb wild goose chase. Naturally, it was right as he thought that his spider sense sent a sharp tingle through his brain. He leapt forward, the sound of a loud impact coming in from where he'd stood only a second before. Peter quickly spun around to see that it was the same macho guy he'd encountered the other night.

"Hey, big guy!" he greeted. "Long time, no see! What's the matter, your buddies didn't want to join in on the party tonight?"

His spider sense then went off again just in time to alert him to an attack from the ninja guy, who was coming from his left. He sidestepped out of the way, but his opponents only continued to attack relentlessly, striking at him with speed and precision, the big guy swinging at him up top while the ninja attacked with his staff near the legs. It was only Peter's speed and reflexes that were keeping him one step ahead, but he felt lucky to be doing just that. He stayed patient though, looking for the right opportunity to strike back.

Finally, that time arrived, and he grabbed the ninja guy's staff, tossing him aside. He then turned his attention to the brute, stopping his fist with his hand before placing his other hand on his stomach and hoisting him over his head. Peter then tossed him into a pile of vehicle scraps, causing it to collapse in on itself.

"Seriously guys, are we going to keep doing this little dance, or are you going to get wise and finally..."

Spider-sense.

Peter leapt off to the side just in time to avoid a blast coming his way. He watched as it tore through most things in its path before turning to see that the third member of the group was the one wielding this new weapon.

"Okay, is that a sonic discharge device?" he asked. "If you weren't trying to kill me with it, I'd say it looks awesome."

"Glad you like the new weaponry, bug," the man said, charging up the device again, "because it's the last thing you will ever see."

The device then let out another blast, though Peter easily leapt out of the way again. Unfortunately, the big guy was ready for him, wrapping him up in one of his trademark bear hugs. He then charged them clean through multiple piles of debris before bursting through the wall of the place and out onto the street, eventually tossing him into a fire hydrant, breaking it. What Peter thought of as a little fun was starting to get really annoying now. Plus, he'd made the mistake of letting them get out in the open.

His opponents didn't give him a second to recover, however, with the ninja guy joining in the fight once again. Peter tried to leap out of the way, only to be grabbed at the ankle by the big guy and slammed into the concrete multiple times before being tossed into a nearby semi-trailer, the impact almost knocking the wind out of him. The third member then emerged, lining up another blast. Reacting quickly, Peter flipped out of the way just in time, but the impact from the blast proved powerful enough to cut clean through the trailer and head straight into a building, sending debris collapsing straight toward a woman and her young daughter.

There was no way he had enough time, but still, he had to try...

Reacting with seemingly lightning speed, Peter leapt to the girls, scooping them out of the way with time to spare before the debris harmlessly hit the ground.

"Are you two okay?" he asked. After they nodded in confirmation, he ordered them to go. Before they could, Peter noticed their eyes widen in terror, and he spun around to find the big guy coming in hot. Peter braced himself to react, but then he got a surprise: a man got in between them, drawing a gun.

"Stay back!" he cried out.

"Dave, don't!" cried the woman behind them.

The big guy, however, struck the man with a backhand that sent him flying almost clean across the street. He then struck at Peter, who simply spun and delivered a kick to his gut that sent him careening through the window of a nearby jewelry store. He then rushed over to the man, the girls he'd also just saved already there. They were trying to wake him, but he was out cold. He bent down and felt the man's carotid area and was relieved when he picked up a pulse, meaning he was alive, but not by much.

Now that he got a look at him, Peter noticed that the man's hair was greyish white, a brown jacket, and he even had a similar build...

Memories of that night suddenly flashing through his mind, a red-hot rage suddenly surged through his veins, causing Peter to clench his fists as he turned back to the brute, who had just now recovered and was standing up. He then rushed towards him; the ninja guy came at Peter again too, but he simply tossed him aside without so much as looking at him. The brute then struck a blow at him with his fists, but Peter blocked it and, in one swift motion, picked him up by his oversized arm and slammed him back and forth into the concrete repeatedly, just as had been done to him. Peter then leapt on top of the man, pinning him down before he began pounding his fist against the man's face relentlessly.

As he poured on the assault, all Peter could think of was his Uncle Ben, and how the man was lying over there in a similar manner to how his long-lost father figure had. It had almost happened on his watch again, and he couldn't take the chance. He had to keep going, he had to go all the way...

Wait, what was he doing?

Halting his assault on the man, Peter looked down at the guy, who was now unconscious and bleeding heavily from his nose and mouth. He looked at his hands, which contained more than their fair share of the same red liquid. He'd almost gotten carried away; he'd just been so angry...

He was so disturbed by what he'd almost done that Peter didn't even realize that his spider sense was trying to alert him to something. Next thing he knew, he'd been blasted by the sonic discharge device, the impact carrying him until it had slammed him into a car before it finally relented. He fought to get up, but his senses were all distorted. Worse, something felt off about his suit somehow; he swore that it almost felt like it was moving, squirming in some areas, but it had to be his senses being off.

Suddenly, another blast came, this one even more unrelenting than before. Peter covered his ears, fighting the shooting pain the noise was sending down them. Really, he was hurting all over, the blast feeling as though it could tear him apart at any minute. He couldn't even think straight to fight back though, as if his mind had been crippled by the overwhelming sound...

Still, despite all of this, Peter again swore he could feel his costume... moving somehow. Then, suddenly, the cloth almost seemed to lash out somehow, letting out its own screech as if it was somehow in pain as well. It managed to swipe away the device from the hand of its user, and before he knew it, Peter had lunged over to it, picking it up and tearing the thing to shreds... only it wasn't him doing it.

When he'd completed the task, all he could do was draw back in shock, his breathing heavy. The sound of sirens could soon be heard, drawing his gaze. His enemies had apparently made their retreat during the craziness and, deciding to regroup himself, Peter opted to swing off as well. He made his way to a nearby rooftop out of view, his breathing still heavy as he landed. He peered at his gloved hands.

"What's happening to me?" he wondered out loud.

Suddenly, his suit started to change color, the red and blue transitioning to black and white, the web pattern gone and a larger spider symbol enveloping his chest and back.

"WE happened to you."

Hope you all are still enjoying it!

Continuing to pray for you all; stay safe and healthy, and happy new year!

"You, Lord, brought me up from the realm of the dead; You spared me from going down to the pit." Psalm 30:3