Peter walked up to the Thompson family house, ringing the doorbell to announce his presence. He then waited patiently, and it didn't end up taking long before Flash's mom showed up at the door, her solemn expression not going unnoticed by Peter as she opened it.

"Hey, Mrs. Thompson," he said. "I'm sorry for having to duck out early last night. Is Flash here? I was hoping to see him to make up for the time I missed yesterday."

"He's in his room," the woman answered. "He's been kind of quiet today; maybe your visiting will help a little."

Peter nodded as the woman opened the door more widely, allowing him to enter. He immediately proceeded to head upstairs, where he knew that Flash's room was from study sessions together down the stretch of their senior year. That felt like both a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the same time; he had no idea how that was possible, but as he ascended the steps, that was somehow what it felt like.

Coming to the room, Peter found the door about halfway open, and he could see Flash sitting in his wheelchair, appearing to examine something in his hand. He knocked gently a couple of times against the door.

"Hey man," he said. Flash didn't acknowledge him, however, continuing to look at whatever he was holding instead. Peter pushed open the door to fully let himself in, and as he drew closer, he realized what his friend was holding: a picture of himself from back in high school, posing in his basketball uniform.

"I was such a dumb kid back then," Flash spoke up as Peter came alongside him. "For so long, I only looked for ways to make myself feel important, to feel powerful. You experienced it as much as anyone, Peter; how I lived for pushing others around so that I felt like the alpha male, when really, I was just this stupid, insecure kid on the inside who thought he would fall apart as soon as people saw him for what he really was. You and Gwen though, you two showed me how to be better, be someone that I can be proud of. You guys might have been the nerdiest people I ever knew, but you were good."

Peter put his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Don't sell yourself short," he urged him. "When my Uncle Ben died, you were the first to put our differences aside and try and reach out to me, even though I wasn't ready for it. I never said anything, but that gesture meant a lot. You were also the one who worked at improving both your grades and your reputation. You became, well, probably the person I liked least in school to one of my closest friends. That's no small thing."

Flash nodded, letting out a huff to acknowledge Peter's words.

"Yeah," he said. "Then I decided I wanted to find out how to go out and make a difference in the world. I wasn't going to do it like you, Peter; I had to find another way, and for a while, I did. Sure, war is as close to hell on earth as it gets, but I can still remember when I realized that I'd made the right decision: I was on a mission with the rest of my unit, and we were trying to rescue some civilian hostages. Obviously, I can't mention a lot of specifics, but I still remember the little girl I found, probably about eight years old, caught in all the chaos. I managed to get her out of there and we were able to return her to her parents. I couldn't understand a word they were saying, but somehow, I could see in their faces how grateful they were. It was the first time in my life that I was proud of myself, and I just knew that I had found what I was meant to do with my life."

"You're a hero, Flash," Peter reassured him.

"No," Flash rebuffed, a subtle anger emerging in that one word. "I WAS a hero; now, I'm just a guy stuck in a chair for the rest of his life."

Suddenly, before Peter could even respond, Flash suddenly began smashing the picture against the desk repeatedly in a rage before tossing it aside.

"I was doing something, GOOD, Peter!" he shouted. "I was out there making a difference, saving lives... and THIS IS WHAT I GET!?"

The man then picked up another thing to smash, raising the object up, but then seemingly finding himself unable to do so, instead dropping it as his emotions gave way. He buried his face in his hands, laying them on the desk in his room. With no words coming in response to all this, Peter did the only thing that he knew to do: he put his arms around Flash's shoulders, wrapping him in a brotherly embrace as his friend wept bitterly over his situation.


Later that night, Peter came home after a longer patrol. It had been a quiet evening in the city, which was nice, as the extra time had allowed him to just clear his head as he swung through the Manhattan skyline, eventually finding a place nearby to change before entering his and M.J.'s apartment.

As he opened the door, he saw his wife sitting on their couch, glancing up at him as he stepped through the door. Her expression seemed happy on the outside, but something in it gave off a hint of melancholy as she greeted him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he responded back, closing the door behind him. "How'd it go with the lady's day?"

"Pretty good," M.J. replied, taking a sip of water out of a glass. "I think it was nice for Gayle especially; she really seems happy for the first time in a while."

"After all she's been through, she definitely deserves it," Peter assured her. "What about Liz? She seem to be okay?"

M.J.'s light smile faded into a more even expression.

"She got a call while we were out at lunch," she explained. "She didn't get back until a couple of hours later; she said that apparently, her toilet had overflowed so bad that it was starting to leak through the floor."

"Wow, one of my worst nightmares brought to life," he remarked.

"Yeah, but...I don't know, I still can't help but wonder if there's more to it." Mary Jane explained.

"You think that she was lying?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," M.J. said. "I hope not; Liz has given me no reason not to trust her before, but my gut tells me that she's keeping something from me, probably because of her brother."

"I don't remember her talking about him much," Peter noted. "Are they close?"

"More or less," M.J. said. "Liz always seemed close to her family, but not quite tight knit, if that makes any sense? From what she told me and what I could observe whenever I was over there, they weren't all best friends, but they also didn't seem like they had any problems with each other."

"I see," Peter answered, uncertain of what to make of the possibilities either.

"Maybe I really am blowing this out of proportion," M.J. said. "I just have to believe that, if anything ever really did get that serious, she would let me know if she needed anything. She always has in the past."

"I'm sure you're right," Peter assured her.

"How was your visit with Flash?" Mary Jane asked, changing the subject.

Peter sucked in and let out a breath.

"He's struggling," he finally answered. "He feels like his whole identity has been taken from him. I wanted to say that I understood what he was going through, but really, I have no clue. I've lost a lot too, but even through it all, I still had my powers and my mind, the two things that I value the most when it comes to helping people. If I lost either one or both of those things, I don't know where I'd be."

"I'd probably be the same with the store," Mary Jane said. "I mean, that place practically feels like a part of me, so I can't imagine what it would be like if I lost it."

"I just don't know how I'm supposed to help him through this," Peter explained. "I just hate seeing him this way."

"I know," M.J. said. "You're Peter Parker; you want everybody to have things perfect all the time. But you need to remember that he's going to have to make his own choices as well."

"I know that up here," Peter replied, gesturing towards the side of his head, "intellectually, but I don't know how much it will change emotionally."

"Well, what did you do when you were over there with him earlier?" M.J. asked.

"I stayed there with him to try and settle him down as he broke down," Peter answered.

"Did it work?" M.J. questioned.

"I mean, he at least settled down after a while, yeah," Peter affirmed.

"Well, then there you go," Mary Jane said. "Little things like that work wonders, trust me. I've experienced it firsthand."

Peter let out a light sigh as he observed the understanding but encouraging look his wife was giving him.

"I just want him to make it out of this," he explained. "It seems we're both wanting dealing with trying to help people get through some stuff."

"I guess so," Mary Jane concurred. "I guess we'll just have to figure it out together."

"Agreed," Peter replied. "Besides, it's not like I can just..."

Suddenly, it felt as though a light switch went off in his head.

"What?" M.J. questioned.

"That's it," Peter muttered. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Mary Jane asked.

Peter turned to her.

"I'm going to invent a cure for paralysis!"

What?" his wife questioned, giving him an incredulous look. "Is that even possible?"

"It might be!" Peter assured her. "A regular person's nerves send signals to muscles, which is what makes them move. When nerves get injured in the way Flash's have, those signals can't get through to the muscles anymore, which has rendered him paraplegic. If I can somehow come up with a way to allow his muscles to receive those signals again..."

In his excitement, Peter came over to M.J, clutching her by her shoulders.

"I think I just figured out what I want to do for my startup!" he announced.

Shifting over, M.J. readjusted her position so that she was facing Peter more directly.

"Peter," she began, a somewhat skeptical look on her face. "Are you sure about this? I'm glad that you're excited, but I don't want you to get your hopes up, or Flash's, only for the science to not work out."

"I know that it's a long shot," Peter acknowledged, "and I won't even tell Flash what I'm doing, at least not right away. You're right, I don't want him to bank all his hopes on this until I know it'll work. But this, this could be the opportunity I've been waiting for, M.J. This could be my chance to not only help him, but millions of other people who've been affected by this. I can help brides walk down the aisle when they never thought they could, I can help an injured father pick up his kid again, I can help people run with their families and friends... I can help millions. This is what I want."

M.J. sighed, a bigger smile coming over her face as she looked at him again.

"Then I guess I better start brainstorming contacts to help you get your research going."

"Really?" Peter asked.

"I meant what I said on our wedding day, Tiger," Mary Jane assured him. "I said that I would always be your champion, and if this is something you really believe in, then I'm with you, one hundred percent."

Peter reached over, pressing a thick, deep kiss on his wife's lips.

"I love you," he said once they separated.

"I love you too," she replied.


At the end of the workday the next day, Peter packed up his stuff before going over to Robbie's office, knocking on the door.

"Excuse me, boss," he said, poking his head in. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Not at all, Peter," Robbie replied, waving him in. "Come in."

Peter did as he was instructed, slipping inside the office before closing the doors behind him.

"So, what's on your mind?" his boss asked. Peter then slowly began to approach him, the piece of paper in his hand. Honestly, it had been more bittersweet writing what was on it than he'd expected it to be. He was really looking forward to what came next, but what he would have to give up in turn was something he knew that he would miss.

Eventually, he handed the paper to his boss, who took it in his hands and examined it.

"Your two-week notice?" Robbie asked.

"Yes sir," Peter replied.

"I take it this means that you've figured out how you're going to be spending that money?" Robbie questioned, removing his glasses and setting them on his desk.

"It does," Peter affirmed.

Robbie let out a sigh.

"Well Peter, I'll hate to lose you, but at the same time, I'm happy for you," Robbie assured him. "It'll be nice to see you finally be able to put that big brain of yours to better use."

"Thank you," Peter said, "and thanks again; even though I have an idea now, I still couldn't get started without you."

"Think nothing of it, Peter," Robbie said, taking Peter hand in his own, shaking it. "I'm just glad to have the opportunity to help a noble cause. I look forward to hearing..."

Suddenly, Robbie's phone rang; Peter's boss took it, answering.

"How did you get this..."

Concerned by both his boss's words and tone, Peter still fought to refrain from listening in on Robbie's clearly unexpected call.

"I told you before, no means no."

Robbie then hung up.

"Everything okay?" Peter questioned."

"Yeah," Robbie assured him. "Just a wrong number. Anyway, I look forward to hearing more about this project of yours."

"Thanks," Peter said. "I'm playing things pretty close to the chest for right now; I'll fill you in more once I get things off the ground."

"Fair enough," Robbie conceded. "Now, I apologize, but if you'll excuse me, I have some work to finish up before leaving."

"Of course," Peter replied, "and thanks again."

After that, Peter took his leave from the office, heading to the elevator. He couldn't believe that he would only be in this building for two more weeks. The Bugle had almost become like a second home to him over the years; the thought of leaving truly felt like the end of an era.

He just had to remember that a new one was just on the horizon.


Hope you're still enjoying it!

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

"But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace reap a harvest of righteousness." James 3:17-18