The Astonishing Spider-Man & Talon

by Forget the hyphen

During a guilt-ridden exile, Peter Parker meets a girl named Laura Kinney who's troubles mimic his own. Maybe the two can help each other move past their problems, make each other better, and maybe find something lost; But in his ever-changing world that is never easy, there will be new enemies and new responsibilities, but with Laura at his side, he won't be alone. OwnUniverse!

19. Chapter 17: Farewell

Spider-Man swung through the quiet desolate streets of New York City.

For once, there were no lines of taxis, no crowds of people underneath, no street performers nor preachers and musicians – just him, swinging through the empty skies alone.

The battle which had taken place was but a distant memory, the wounds already ceasing their bleeding, his body already healing for the next fight – the next conflict of his never ending crusade.

Johnny and Ben had gone to check on both him and Laura, both of them and the others of their little group sharing the same battle damage and the same outcome save for Johnny and Daredevil who had best their foes.

Peter walked Laura to the station, staying with his companion until her train arrived to take her to a place he would soon join her in.

Though, unlike their walk from earlier, the joyful comfortable presence the two normally had with each other was muted with somber melancholy, the both of them reflecting on what had transpired throughout this long and tiresome day.

There was a glimmer of light though – a small smile the two shared, when he offered her to wear his long sleeved undershirt for the striped tank top she wore was out of its element with the sun long gone – an offer she took appreciatively.

Peter Parker watched with distant eyes, the sight his lenses reflected, contemplating things.

Just when he thought his nightmare was over – that The Goblin was gone, a new one had come – not just embodying insanity but becoming it. The Hobgoblin was a step above The Green Goblin – not just containing but being able to manifest his hate in the physical form of burning fire.

He knew that Norman Osborn was The Green Goblin.

Did he also know who Spider-Man was?

How much did he know about Spider-Man and The Green Goblin?

Based on how he spoke – how the Hobgoblin wanted to see for himself as to why Norman was fixated on him, The Hobgoblin had some information on the twisted dynamic the two had but… but he didn't know who he was.

If the Hobgoblin did indeed know who he was, did indeed just want to kill him like he claimed, he would have snuffed Peter Parker out when he was sniveling in his room but he waited for Spider-Man.

Guess there are some secrets you keep to your grave.

The existence of The Hobgoblin only inclined him further to join The Charles Xavier Institute. Not only was it packed with fellow mutants who were powerhouses much above his league, it took Spider-Man out of Queens – away from Aunt May.

Prevented him to be followed.

Which would prevent The Hobgoblin from potentially doing what Norman did all those months ago….

Norman….

Peter Parker's brain recounted the various life changing memories which had transpired in just these few months alone.

"Peter Parker…Spider-Man…you? And you better not say 'that's none of your buis-"

Memories he could never forget played within his mind.

"X-23."

"Laura Kinney!"

Some of them were good.

"You're an idiot."

"He can hear that."

Some made him laugh.

"CAPTAIN STACY!"

"GWEN!"

"I KNOW WHAT I AM! I'M NOT A HERO! I'M NOT A PERSON! I'm a weapon…"

A lot broke his heart.

"You are a very noble and admirable idiot."

"If there is, I do not care."

While others fixed it.

However, most memories plunged his heart – summoned fourth wraiths which haunted him and dragged him down into the endless abyss.

He was in the dark again.

Constricted and bound by metals beyond his strength – metals which kept him in place while taloned gloves slowly and gently caressed his body, a gesture his aunt has done to him a thousand times – a gesture a parent does to their child to make them feel safe but this…this had the adverse.

The loving stroke – the caressing touch, made him want to jump out of his skin, sent tingles of absolute fear and despair throughout his tortured and bloodied body.

Made him feel helpless.

"The-The Spider made me, you-you didn't…" Peter Parker exclaimed, unable to comprehend – unable to accept what he had just been told.

A finger grazed his bleeding cheek, while the other felt unwelcomed heat

"And please do remind me just what kind of spider gives a person powers with a bite?" The malignant voice cooed within his ear causing every hair on his body to stand in utter fear.

"Do you remember where you were when it happened?" The voice excitedly whispered, the owner's hands gripping his shoulders, locking the squirming, bleeding, tear stained boy in place, forcing him to vividly remember that day…

"I was at a…science exhibition…at…at…"

"At?" The voice asked in a hastened impatient voice, eagerly wanting his knowledge to be shared.

"Oscorp…" Peter trailed off when realization of what that implicated soon washed over him but he jolted in absolute terror with his captor's abrupt actions.

"BINGO! Now you're getting it…" The Green Goblin excitedly yelled, leaping from his spot, ecstatically circling around Peter, his front barely illuminated by the window beside him which was the only source of light – the only thing which kept the darkness at bay.

"But…why…?" Peter's blue disconcerted eyes met the cavernous blank yellow ones of his captor.

"Why would we have spiders which give people powers? Well… It's because of this," The Green Goblin pulled out a green luminescent vial, smiling like the devil before pouncing on the boy – terrifying him to no bounds.

Peter struggled, whipping his head to the left and right, trying his hardest to escape, to stop The Goblin from getting a firm grasp but it was fruitless.

The Goblin's firm grip held his face in place, keeping his mouth forcibly open and eyes utterly petrified.

"Keep that away from me!" Peter shrieked but The Green Goblin laughed, taking great pleasure in the fear.

"Oh Peter, you're so quick to refuse…tell me…is your spider-sense tingling right now? And no, it's not going off because I disabled it," The Goblin stood up, giving the boy his space, allowing him to recover and search for the tingle that was nowhere to be found.

"It's not going off simply because you're pumped full of the stuff!" The Goblin laughed, chucking the vial behind him like common trash much to Peter's surprise.

"What?"

"That over there is what gave you your powers! It's what made you, YOU!" The Green Goblin exclaimed, pointing at Peter Parker before chuckling in excitement and pointing at himself.

"AND IT'S WHAT MADE ME, ME!" He stated loudly before freezing, a gesture Peter Parker knew all too well.

The Green Goblin's excited and lively posture fell, his smile too.

His mask was stuffed into his tunic as he stood strong and tall now, looking at Peter with a stern gaze and furrowed brow.

"Now listen up boy, 'cause I'm about to give you a history lesson," The commanding voice of Norman Osborn spoke, "What do you know of Captain America and The Weapons Plus program?"

Spider-Man came crawling into an empty, decrepit, and war-torn building, the result of his doing. It was abandoned, the only beings who occupied it being insects and ghosts.

He paced himself slowly and silently as if any harsh movement would awaken and anger the dormant spirits which slept within the forgotten building.

He moved his head, following the path phantoms took as they battled it out with all their might.

The spirits of the past – of the dead, warred against each other with explosive rage and words that were still fresh in his mind. Each step he took creaked the dusted rotting wooden floor which was stained with dried-up blood and explosive ash.

"Evolve or die Peter it's as simple as that – and we are evolution!" a ghost whispered within his mind.

He ceased his venture when he found himself in front of a wall.

A wall that had nothing but two holes pierced through the hard brick.

He looked at it and took a deep breath.

He took off his mask.

He lowered his gaze.

"Bet you weren't expecting me… Norman. I wasn't really expecting to visit here either… but…we have some unfinished business…" Peter Parker stared at the two holes, a mixed expression on his face as his mind summoned the unseeable figment of Norman Osborn: The Green Goblin.

"Peter, this is my father," Fourteen-year-old Peter Parker stared at the fabled billionaire father of his one and only friend.

The scrawny, barely a hundred-pound boy looked at the intimidating authoritative man with astonished yet frightened eyes.

The man returned the look which sparked the boy to take a step back but his amused smile ceased the gesture.

"My son says a lot about you," The oddly warm and gentle voice of Norman Osborn spoke as he analyzed the boy before him, "He tells me you're the smartest person he knows – even smarter than me," He finished with a raised brow and slightly threatening tone but that was quickly changed by a laugh upon seeing the boy's nervous stutter which attempted to sway such notions.

"That's a good thing, Peter, I'm glad Harry is friends with someone like you and I look forward to witnessing your smarts myself but that would have to be saved for another day, I have a business meeting I have to attend too," Norman ruffled the young boys head before turning to his watch and then his son.

"You two behave yourselves, alright? I have plenty of food in the fridge and the maids can assist you should you need help. If you wish to have any snacks or that dreadful fast food you kids seem to love, I've told them that you both have a hundred-dollar limit to spend on those wretched delivery services."

That was the first time Peter Parker met Norman Osborn, before the exhibition at Oscorp, before the Spider, before Norman Osborn gave into the insanity and hate in his heart.

It was a couple of weeks after he became friends with Harry, he took him to his condo at Billionaire's Row and they played as many games and ate as much food as they possibly could.

It was a good memory.

Very different from the last memory he had of him save for the one he was forging right now.

"Mr. Osborn left you something in his will."

"I thought it was over with your death – done – you forever out of my life," Peter huffed at the fond thought but it was swept to the side when he looked at his hand, "But I guess you'll always be a part of it, huh?"

The funeral for Benjamin Parker was a big one, neighbors, friends, and people he helped all attended and wept at the departure of such a great man.

The large and lavish service courtesy of his best friend's father – Norman Osborn, did the man who sought to always help, a man who was always kind, and just, and just amazing in every single possible way, justice.

The service was over.

Fifteen-year-old Peter Parker let the freezing November drizzle do the crying for him as he waited outside for his aunt who refused to leave.

Listening to cries and wails upon losing the man she loved was torture of the highest degree.

He wanted nothing more than to leave but he couldn't.

This was his penance.

Two men stood beside him.

He looked to his right to see the pristine and well-dressed form of…

Captain George Stacy, who looked at the boy with his slightly wrinkled face and bright blue eyes with a sympathetic and saddened gaze. The man who has most likely seen this sight hundreds of thousands of times didn't even hesitate.

He put his umbrella on the ground and knelt in front of the boy, soaking up and ruining his expensive suit, but he didn't care.

He wiped the boy's tears away with a handkerchief designed with a black and white American flag that had his name embroidered on it.

The young Peter Parker struggled to meet the Captain's warm gaze for even the slightest movement, the slightest acknowledgment, would tear him to pieces.

"Here, take it," The Captain's gentle voice said, placing the fine handkerchief on the surprised boy's chest, "You're gonna need it more than me," he held his shoulder – securing him, with his other hand.

Peter Parker sniffed, and he blinked, and he took it.

Wiping away the tears and mucus which came from his poorly contained sobs.

He let them go when the warm and tight embrace of the middle-aged man told him that it was alright to do so.

Peter Parker doesn't remember how long he took, all he remembers is that the kind man stood with him in the rain until he could no longer cry.

He remembers The Captain holding him tightly like his Uncle Ben does – did.

"It's going to be hard son…but…you'll…you'll be alright…I know it," The Captain gazed at him with a grim smile, eye's shining with hope and pride, "But remember son, you…you're not alone. If you ever need anything, anything at all, it doesn't matter how big or how small it is, you can always come to us. We'll always be here for you," He gestured towards the people around him, himself, Mr. Osborn, and Gwen who was in the distance, her expression mimicking her father's – telling him sternly that she would always be there for him.

The Stacies left him soon after, giving him his space.

"You know I've lost someone important too," Norman Osborn broke his silence, staring into the distance as the young Peter Parker looked at him. "She was the most beautiful, most kind woman I've ever known…I loved her with all my heart," Norman stated, his voice and expression stoic, holding back the emotions he very rarely displayed.

"Loss is something we all go through – all live with…You're a strong boy Peter and I know you'll be able to live with it too – you have to, for your aunt, for the memory of your Uncle," Norman encouraged the boy who was simultaneously riddled, encouraged, and determined by his words.

"I know this is a poor time but I've been meaning to tell you that your internship at Oscorp has been approved and no, it has nothing to do with your ties to me. You got in by pure wit alone," Norman praised the boy next to him.

"Uncle Ben would've been proud…" Peter Parker mumbled, using Captain Stacy's handkerchief to wipe the tears which refused to cease.

"You know…I've had…I've had plenty of time to think to myself…about you…about Gwen…about me…and what you told me all those months ago and I…I just wanted to say… you were right…" Peter admitted, unable to look at the marks of death before him.

"You were right about us being the same, about who we really are…" He looked at his mask.

"I tried and I tried, but as the days passed… the voices grew louder until I could no longer stay in my room…and then I heard the call…." He looked at himself within his reflection, smiling just a little bit for a brief moment.

He took a deep breath.

"I told you we were nothing alike back then, but…that was me just trying to hurt you like you hurt me…but…you were right though…you were right about a lot of things…" he shamefully looked to the side.

"I did want to kill you on that night for what you did to Captain Stacy…to me… and that time on the bridge…and after…" He clenched his fists, digging his nail deep into his hand, trying to summon the endless hatred he had for the man.

"SHE WAS ALIVE! A LIVING BEING WHO YOU KILLED! AND YOU'RE RAGING ABOUT A %&* BARGAIN-BASEMENT TOY?"

"LIFE? YOU TALK TO ME ABOUT LIFE? WHAT WORTH IS THERE IN THE WASTED EXISTENCE OF A USELESS FEMALE WHO NEVER DID MORE THAN OCCUPY SPACE!"

But he released his hand, the fire he once had now nothing more than cold ashes.

"I understand now…" he turned back to where he imagined Norman to be, "After being alone in the dark too…I understand why you hated everyone."

Gwen Stacy died at one-twenty-one am.

Norman Osborn died at two-fourteen.

It was at three in the morning when a devastated, wounded, and broken Peter Parker finally let all his emotions lose.

But even he couldn't do that because the news blamed him – Him, for everything that The Green Goblin had done…

"Truth is Norman…I felt the same way once. For a very long time I wouldn't have cared if the whole world burned, and maybe if things played out differently, I would've wanted it too…"

Fourteen-year-old Peter Parker was running for his life, screaming in absolute terror when he found that the alley he had run into was a dead end.

He stared at the group which pinned him down, a mix of seniors, sophomores, juniors…and freshmen, all of them with their phones out as a blonde-haired boy he once knew stepped out of the crowd.

When it was all over, his body, his stuff, his clothes, his glasses were all left torn and destroyed – again.

He could not stand for even attempting to do so brought him great pain.

He slammed his fist against the ground, growling and snarling in pure anger as hate-filled tears streamed down his face.

"But I had my Uncle Ben and Aunt May to show me that…there were good things in the world, that light and love didn't always hurt," Peter Parker smiled, recalling the various memories he had.

"C'mon Kenny Anderson, let's see if you can get past me!" the joyful voice of Uncle Ben challenged as a young thirteen-year-old Peter Parker duked it out with him in his middle school's outside Basketball court.

Aunt May was sitting to the side, cheering him on as he poorly dribbled the ball, his mouth open wide with excitement and joy.

That was the first memory he had of ever scoring in a game.

"But you…you were all alone…"

"We both hated the world, both felt like we should take what was owed to us, but more importantly, we were both afraid of being alone…" Peter Parker's voice cracked.

Four-year-old Peter Parker was in his Aunt and Uncle's home, playing around with the both of them one last time, his stuff packed and ready to be picked up by his returning parents.

There was a knock on the door and his Aunt ushered him to get his stuff as his Uncle answered it, expecting it to be them.

It wasn't.

"I still am…I always will be…" He always had the crippling fear of losing the ones he loved ever since his parents.

His worst nightmares being him…alone…in the dark, forever.

Peter Parker rubbed his eyes, pausing to keep up the dam which kept his emotions at bay before returning to what he had to say to the man responsible for so much.

"I get why you did all the things you did to me…I was the only person you saw yourself in, and you so desperately wanted me to see things your way just so you weren't alone anymore…I get all of that now, because…because I've met someone like me too recently…"

"She's been through a whole lot – more than we have. Where you were groomed to be a man, and where I – by you, to be your heir, she was made to be a weapon at birth…but…the crazy thing is, she didn't hate the world because of it…she hated herself instead…" Peter's heavy-hearted voice lifted up, his eyes getting brighter as he stared at the spot, continuing to speak about the girl who meant so much to him.

"She's endured the same – if not worse things than us and still strives to do what's right – what's good…" Peter Parker smiled in amazement, thinking about the girl who had snikt-ed her way into his life, his heart beating faster and faster – color returning to his eyes.

"For a time, I thought that if I lost anymore I'd end up like you…but when I look at her – when I see her still strive to do good things despite all that's happened to her…I know that's not true anymore," he lifted his head up high, memories of the girl flooding into his brain, moving him – inspiring him.

"You once told me that 'we are who we chose to be,' you were right. Yeah…maybe there is the same darkness in my heart which is found in yours, maybe there is a Goblin in me…but…I have a choice and I'll keep choosing the light no matter how much it hurts because it's right – it's good…it's what she would do…it's what my Uncle Ben would do…it's what I would do…" He said with the utmost resolve, pounding his mask to his chest – to his heart, as he thought about the people he looked up to.

A blonde-haired idiot, a raven-haired beauty, a father he would forever look up to, an aunt he loved dearly, a captain who stood by him at every turn, and a living legend who was responsible for his creation.

"Now don't get the wrong idea – I still hate you. I hate you for all the people you killed, hate you for killing Gwen, hate your stupid haircut, hate how you couldn't change…" He bitterly spat before returning back to his solemn attitude, looking away as hindsight aided what he would say next, "...maybe if I acknowledged how similar we were on that night, the battle on the bridge would've never happened…maybe you could have even been brought back into the light…maybe that was the route I should've gone…" he looked away before chuckling, "Hindsight's a &*tch."

He sighed, silence washing over him and the building once more.

"I wish things were different for us – for her, wish that you had someone like Uncle Ben in your life… maybe that could've been me…but…I guess if I had to choose between you being an alive psychopathic murderer and a dead one, I'd take a dead one instead," Peter looked at the best outcome of an already doomed situation, but even that weighed heavily on his heart.

"I gotta be thankful for you at least…despite all the horrendous things you've done to me – which I absolutely despise you for, I am grateful that you showed me what I could become should I ever give in…" Norman Osborn was who he could have been in a different lifetime, one he could still become should he ever lose his way.

"There's a new goblin in town, using all your new toys – don't be too happy, it's not Harry, I made sure but…this 'Hobgoblin'...I don't know what you were cooking Norman but it's left me with more questions than answers…"

Norman Osborn died believing himself to always be The Goblin – and that was the case, and it would seem that before he passed, or before he received amnesia from their penultimate battle – or somewhere in between, he was working on making it so that was the case on the outside too.

"Spider-Man is who I am but what about Peter Parker…?" The boy in the red and blue costume asked with a lost and unsure voice, what of the boy who was raised in Queens? Was he still there or was he Spider-Man through and through?

He shook his head.

Fire in his eyes once more.

"I'll stop this Hobgoblin like I did you, I just gotta figure out what being 'better' means first ..." another question he didn't have the answer for.

Just how was he better than yesterday? The Hobgoblin made sure to tell him that his new powers weren't the answer.

So what made him better? Was he better? And if he wasn't, how could he be?

He had to be better, he promised Gwen, but how?

He sighed.

He looked up at the two holes, regret and sorrow within his dimmed blue eyes as a better outcome – a better timeline played within his mind.

A timeline that could've been possible.

"...I know I said 'I hate you' – and I do…but…at the end of the day you were also someone's father – you were Harry's father…I hope you have some semblance of peace in death Norman…I'm sorry I couldn't save you," Peter Parker turned away, donning his mask and taking out a skeleton – closing a book.

Putting Norman Osborn to rest.

"Goodbye," he looked over his shoulder, one last time – one final glimpse.

"And the girl I was talking about, her name is 'Laura Kinney.'"

---

Spider-Man swung through the streets of New York City, watching on as a cop cruiser strolled beneath him.

His memories soon fell on Jean Dewolff, the new police commissioner who was so different from the man he admired – his captain.

His opinions of the police were right in the middle, he was not against them, nor was he a blind supporter of them – how could he be with the things he's seen? New York City didn't exactly have a pristine cop reputation.

Not every cop in the city was like Captain George Stacy, but not every cop was a jerk as well – though a whole bunch of them needed to lighten up.

He knew this better than anyone because well, he was involved with them.

And no, it wasn't just because his girlfriend's father was The Captain – well, it kinda was, but…it wasn't just because he was his daughter's boyfriend – sure, it may have been a part of it – he didn't really know, Captain Stacy was an enigma, but Peter Parker was sure that the reason Captain Stacy took such a great interest in him was because…

He knew.

Right from the beginning.

"I SHOULD KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" Spider-Man roared, chasing down a man wearing a muted red jacket and hat which obscured his face with assistance from the darkness.

He tore through the building, each room the man ran into was another wall broken down, his untamed strength, fury, and power, all being used for one thing.

Revenge.

The man had found himself trapped, there were no more rooms to enter, no hole he could crawl into – nowhere to run.

The only thing he could do was fight – use the gun which had already taken one life but the monster – the menace, chasing after him had other plans. He fired webs at the life-shattering firearm, throwing it to the side with such force that it shattered against the wall before immediately pouncing on the man, growling and snarling like a hate-filled beast.

Spider-Man hit him again, and again, and again.

Violence, Hate, and Vengeance were all welcomed to overcome him and control him. They allowed him to accomplish his one and only desire of rendering the man before him as nothing but a paste – a stain on the floor….

…but that's not how it went.

Through his blood-soaked vision, Peter Parker managed to get a good look at the man's face, and his shock was so powerful, surprise so immense, that it took him out of his unstoppable rage.

"That – that face! It can't…it can't be…" The fifteen-year-old boy trailed off in absolute disbelief as he looked on with tears welling in his eyes.

The man who had killed his Uncle, the man who had robbed the world of the most kind, most caring, most loving person to ever exist, was the man he let go…

The man who robbed the world of Ben Parker was not the man in his grasp but…

"It…it was my fault…" he muttered, letting the man's unconscious body drop, tears going down his now unmasked face as the implications of his actions – his selfishness, had hit him.

It was his fault his Uncle was dead.

"If...If only I stopped him…" Peter Parker whimpered, falling onto his knees, struggling to keep his face free of tears as guilt, regret, and loathing all hit him at once, as hard as they could leaving him utterly defenseless to the countless, earth-shattering, world-breaking thoughts, realizations, and consequences that barraged him.

Unknowingly to him, a responding officer alone on duty – a lone Captain, watched.

He watched as the masked menace who had the power to tear through walls became a boy his daughter gushed about.

He watched Peter Parker break down in tears.

He looked away.

He remembered his daughter's words when describing him.

The Captain turned off his body cam.

He turned off his radio.

He walked away until he heard the boy leave.

He returned to find his faith in the boy rewarded in the form of the man strung up by webs…alive.

All throughout his life, Peter Parker had wanted nothing more than to see his father, but in his stupidity – in his desire for more, he didn't recognize he had one until it was too late.

The father he had was gone, and in his place – a hole that could not be filled.

But Captain Stacy did a pretty good job filling the void.

Captain Stacy was a very smart, very wise man, who had a heart of gold.

He could see where Gwen got it from.

Ever since that day, The Captain had gotten more involved in his life, getting his daughter to join the volunteer program his division had which in hindsight was just a ploy to get him to join so that The Captain could watch over him, protect him…guide him.

He has very fond memories of those days, sitting in Captain Stacy's cruiser while he gave him advice on how to be a superhero – masking it as future cop advice, always trying to tell Peter discreetly that he knew he was Spider-Man but those attempts always went over the naïve boy's head.

Peter Parker still laughs when he recalls those various attempts.

He will never forget what The Captain tried to teach him.

He was sitting in the passenger seat of Captain Stacy's cruiser, getting driven home after volunteering with him at some local event to assist those in need. It was awkward though, for this was a time when the police had come under heavy scrutiny, however, what amazed Peter Parker was that Captain Stacy did not seem phased.

He wondered how he could take all the negativity, all the hate, all the criticism that people were unjustly giving him – unjustly pinning the actions of others onto him – like the Daily Bugle did with Spider-Man.

"Captain Stacy, does the news ever get to you?" Peter Parker hesitantly asked the man who he had grown close to over the coming months as both Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

Captain Stacy paused, 'hmm'-ing, contemplating how to answer the question.

"Well…Peter…I'd be lying if I said it didn't but I'm not going to act like it's not warranted," Captain Stacy answered which confused Peter, prompting the well-spoken man to expand, "Peter, who do you think is the first person to be aware that one of my guys did something bad? None of the stuff you're hearing about is founded upon myth, it's from real people – from real experiences…and it breaks my heart," Captain Stacy lowered his gaze.

He turned to the young boy next to him.

"What breaks my heart more though Peter, is the division which has come from all of this. When someone pushes hard, then the other will push back harder, and soon sides are made, absolutes will come into play – absolutes for both sides, and then everyone will start adopting the 'us vs them' idea which always leads to disaster. I see it on the streets, I see it at the station," The man disheartenedly shook his head.

"What we should be doing is working together, cops and civilians coming together to hold each other accountable, not one side excusing their actions and targeting the other for the same thing, because at the end of the day, it's just us, and the only way we'll ever solve an issue is if we come together because no one is without fault, and we need others so that we can see those faults and become better," he lectured though Peter raised a brow, a gesture which the keen older man caught on.

"But that doesn't really answer your question, does it?" Captain Stacy smirked, realizing he did the old person classic and trailed off from the initial question.

"No, but it's good advice," Peter said to the man, listening to every single word he said.

Captain Stacy huffed.

"Well…to answer your question, Peter…it does bother me because we all want to be liked, but does it get to me? No, 'cause at the end of the day, I'm not here for fortune or fame, or even to be liked," He stated to the boy who looked at him with awe-struck admiration.

"Men like us Peter, we're here to do good because it's good, what anyone else says doesn't matter, remember that, alright?" Captain Stacy raised a brow, wanting to make sure that the definitely not superpowered vigilante sitting in his car understood the valuable lesson he was trying to teach.

"I will, Captain Stacy," Peter Parker nodded, smiling at the man, internalizing each syllable.

Captain Stacy reciprocated the smile with one of his own.

It would be a journey, but Peter Parker would always remember Captain Stacy's words whenever the news got to him.

"Now how 'bout a burger, my treat?" He offered, already knowing what the boy would say.

Captain Stacy was the greatest.

Spider-Man swung until he reached an alleyway – a very specific alleyway that was well-kept and clean.

He walked down it, looking on in amazement at the graffiti which had pictured the Captain in a heroic portrait, Spider-Man behind him, for he was always a staunch believer in the Wall-Crawler…in Peter Parker.

"Captain Stacy, why do you defend Spider-Man so much?" Peter asked the uniformed man, wondering why he would withstand media harassment and controversy over his vocal and unwavering opinion of the Web-Slinger.

They were sitting on the roof of his car, eating Shawarma this time in a quiet area.

"Cause he's a hero. Spider-Man saves people – he's saved me, and I won't stop until everyone else knows that, which will only be a matter of time," The Captain said before taking a big bite of his chicken and beef wrap.

"You really think people will like Spider-Man?" Peter Parker asked with hope in his voice.

"I do," The Captain adamantly stated with all his heart, "And I know they'll soon think what I think of him."

"Which is?"

"That he's another legend added to the ever-expanding roster of Amazing heroes who will change the world," He declared with a smile, looking on proudly at the boy beside him.

Peter blushed, looking down at his feet.

"Amazing…" he mumbled, liking the word.

"Hey, Captain Stacy," Peter grabbed the man's attention.

"Yeah, Peter?"

"I think you're on that roster too."

It was the Captain's turn to blush in surprise, but he shook his head and huffed, always modestly describing himself as 'a cop who was just doing his job.'

Peter Parker looked away, the expectations and hopes which had once uplifted him crushing his heart with an insurmountable weight.

He looked down at the plaque below his feet.

"In loving memory of George Stacy. Honorable Captain of the NYPD, beloved mentor, inspirational teacher, loving husband, caring father, Super Hero."

Peter Parker took off his mask, rubbing his red eyes while he read words he would never forget.

"Captain Stacy!" Spider-Man spine-chillingly cried, every fiber of his being commanding him to rush to the crushed man's aid. His heart threatened to burst, his mind went into a frenzy as he stopped his intense battle against Doc Ock to save the man who had selflessly pushed a kid out of the way from falling rubble.

A man he idolized.

Looked up too.

Loved.

"No, No, No, No, Not again…" He repeated, using all his strength to rid the man of the suffocating, bone-crushing weight of the debris, all the while keeping his tears at bay.

He hoped to god, to whatever higher power which existed, that he was alright.

"He's got to be alright. He's got to, he's got to, he's got to," He repeated within his mind, unable to believe – unable to accept anything else.

He had managed to rid the rubble which buried him and instinctively went for his heart, putting his ear against it in the hopes of hearing a beat.

He did.

It was faint…but…it was still beating.

"Captain Stacy! Captain Stacy!" Peter frantically repeated, holding him in his trembling arms, trying his hardest to get him to wake up, but it was to no avail.

He lifted him, dropping everything – abandoning everyone, and scaling up the nearest building for the hospital was not too far away and maybe-

"Put me down, son…" he weakly said as he watched the boy leave the rampaging supervillain to tend to him.

"No!" Peter yelled at the top of his lungs, running as fast as he could towards the hospital on the New York rooftops "Just hold on, okay? the hospital is not too far fro-"

"I'm already dead!" he yelled as loudly as his broken lungs allowed him to before coughing violently, freezing Peter in his tracks, "Just…just put me down…Peter ...I…I have some things I have to say… before I go…" he pleaded, wheezing blood much to the masked boy's horror.

"No…" Peter whimpered, reluctantly complying with Captain Stacy's request.

He lowered him to rest on the ground, still holding him up as he sobbed and cried wildly, already knowing what was going to happen – his heart sinking to newer depths. First, his parents, then Uncle Ben, now Captain Stacy…he just couldn't ... he couldn't die…he didn't want him to die…he wanted him to live, to see Gwen grow up, to see the things Peter would accomplish, to see his hopes and-

His Captain laughed weakly.

"It's alright son…it's…it's not your fault," He made sure to let out, to tell the young boy that his death was not his doing.

"Bu-" Peter tried to say but he was quickly silenced.

"-A…A hero is someone who is concerned about…other people's well-being, and will go out of his or her way to help them…even if there is no chance of reward…" He coughed more, his strained voice struggling to voice out the words he wanted to say so desperately, but he would not give in until he said what needed to be said, "Th-that person…who…who helps others simply because it should or must be done, and because it is the right thing to do…is...is indeed…without a doubt, a real…a real superhero…" Peter Parker cried looking on as the Captain weakly pointed to his chest.

"Tha…that person is you…Peter Parker…" he let out with a smile, "I…I am so proud that I…I managed to see you grow…" Peter held his hand, mask soaked with tears as he struggled to breathe, "I…I know you'll do good…bu-...but I need you to promise me something, son…"

"What? Promise you what, Captain Stacy? I'll do anything you ask!" Peter instantly inquired which caused the dying man to smile.

"Gwen…no one will be there to look out for her after… I'm gone…no one, Peter…except for you…" He paused every other word, blood escaping his mouth, death's hands around his throat but he fought, he fought till the bitter end.

"Be good to her …son! Be good….to her...she loves…you…so very…much…" He managed to let out before he gave in, his body going limp and cold, death leading him to a place all were destined to go.

"Captain Stacy…?" Peter hesitantly asked, already knowing the answer from his limp body.

He lowered his head.

He clutched his body tightly.

"...I promise...I'll take care of her…" Peter Parker solemnly vowed, hugging the man's corpse, nestling his head against it as sadness and sorrow overtook him once more.

He could hear laughter in the distance.

The sorrow turned to anger.

His tears turned to hatred.

He stared at his foe with four mechanical appendages.

And he roared.

"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

Doc Ock was currently spending his time in a S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital, his body mangled and beaten beyond what it could repair.

Though Doctor Octopus was the one who killed him, he was played by The Green Goblin like everyone else…all in his grand scheme to make him his heir.

Captain Stacy died because The Green Goblin felt his influence over Peter threatened his plan.

It did.

It was Captain Stacy's final gift.

Peter Parker stared at the plaque.

"You know how you always said Spider-Man needed a partner, Captain Stacy?" Peter asked in a forced cheerful tone, avoiding the subject which needed to be addressed.

"Well uh…well he has one now. She um…She goes by 'Talon'…" Peter tried to tell him, scratching his arms in complete and utter nervousness but knowing all too well that the ghost was not interested in his partner.

The disappointed and bittered gaze of Captain George Stacy came crashing down on the boy's shoulders and he found himself lowering his head in shame, wiping away the tears which were quickly arising.

"I'm sorry, Captain…I-I had one job and I blew it…I'm sorry I let you down…the both of you down..." Peter shook his head, unable to look up and meet the imaginative gaze.

Captain Stacy had fought for him since the beginning – took time out of his life to coach him into being not just a better hero, but a better man …but all Peter Parker could show what his efforts led to was a crime-ridden New York and the daughter he tasked him with protecting being six-feet deep in the ground.

"I know you won't forgive me…and I don't want you to…I just…I just wanted to say that I'll try and do better…" Peter said before swinging off into the distance, keeping his unwelcomed appearance short, so as to not disturb The Captain's rest.

---

"Hey there, Gwen…"

Spider-Man said atop The Brooklyn Bridge, cradling himself on the exact spot she was thrown off, "It's been a while…or not…I don't…I don't really know…" He said, his face free and exposed, the boy feeling at home and comfortable in her imaginative presence.

"There was this ghost of yours my mind created of you to haunt me…unless that was you… hope it was you…which if it is…I gotta say 'thank you,'" he huffed to himself, looking at his mask.

He gulped.

"I hope the guy who runs this whole entire show brought you up to speed cause it might've been confusing for you to find out that the guy you dated was also the guy you hated…" Peter humorlessly chuckled. Initially, like the death of Gwen, Spider-Man was blamed for Captain Stacy's death – a sentiment Gwen Stacy shared till her grave...a sentiment he wished so desperately to be gone.

"If there really is an afterlife or something, which I hope there is…I…I really hope you heard what I said but in case you didn't, I made a promise – to be better, so I don't fail anyone else like I did you…thing is though…I don't really know what that means…I thought it had something to do with my new powers but I guess not…" Peter took off his gloves, showing no one his stingers and fangs.

"I can practically hear you telling me that the answer is right in front of me but you're forgetting that I'm an idiot," he laughed, picturing the many times the girl rolled her eyes whenever he was so obviously wrong.

"You know…I met a girl…her name's 'Laura.' She's a lot less dork and headbands and much more early two-thousands-edge but…I really like her," Peter smiled, pressing his knees closer to his chest, "I don't know if it was you, or God, or fate which led me to her but I'm really glad I met her, cause… I don't have to tell you how I can't function by myself, you already know" he laughed wholeheartedly.

"You'd like her too, instead of scoffing at me like you did, she just blatantly calls me an 'idiot' but she's really nice…and kind…and when I'm with her I feel different… like, there aren't dual identities I have to maintain, I'm just…Me…"

Peter Parker was always the nervous, stuttering, unconfident boy and Spider-Man was the opposite, confident, strong, funny, someone who he always wanted to be.

Spider-Man was a hero.

Peter Parker would go off and hang out with his friends, and Spider-Man would battle the bad guys and compete against The Human Torch, both his two aliases messing or aiding the other at certain times.

Mostly messing.

But things have changed.

Now he was with people like him.

At a time when Captain Stacy was the only one who knew who he was, now he had Johnny, The Fantastic Four, Daredevil, he had the teachers at Xavier's now too, and more importantly… he had Laura.

He was surrounded by people who were like him, who knew who he was….no dual identities.

"Then again…I don't really know who 'me' is…it's all blurry now…I know Spider-Man is who I am – know that I can't stand by and let others get hurt when I can do something, but what about Peter Parker? It's all too confusing when I think about it but when I'm with her I don't have to worry about that, ya know?"

When he was with Laura, it just…it felt right, like there was no need to keep secrets or constantly lie because – one, why would he when she already knew the important stuff and two, he literally couldn't, she'd sniff him out and 'snikt' out the truth.

He thought about her.

Her smile, her eyes, her face, her long luscious hair and her beautiful body.

He let his mouth go on autopilot but Gwen never minded when he couldn't shut up.

"She's really pretty – like really, really, pretty, to the point that calling her 'gorgeous' would be an understatement and that's on top of her already being nice and kind and smart," He said with the largest smile on his face, "She's really smart by the way too, like…a master at everything but…she doesn't really see all that…she only really sees the bad in her…sounds like someone you know, right?" Peter rhetorically asked, imagining Gwen's response.

Peter chuckled, "I'm sorry, I'm gushing about her a lot, she's just…well, she's Laura Kinney, I don't really know how else to put it," he shrugged, picturing Laura in his mind one last time before his smile faded into a sullen frown.

He paused, trying to find words that could express the utter misery, guilt – desolation, his heart radiated.

"I'm …I'm sorry for a lot of things, Gwen…" Peter began to say as he looked down, "I…I wish I could take them all back… but…I can't…I gotta…I gotta live with it," Peter said as he stood up, putting his mask on for the final time.

He took a deep breath, finding the strength to say what he wanted to say.

"I just came here to say….I'm sorry that I was the one you fell in love with…Aunt May said I had to forgive myself but I don't think I ever can…but…I've at least learned to accept and live with it," He stated, shutting his blue orbs before looking at the spot with exhausted, dreary eyes.

"See you 'round, Gwen."

---

The young boy looked at the dwarfing gothic gate which sealed off the dead – allowing them to rest, with a somber gaze and tear-stained face.

He gulped again, always intimidated and frightened upon taking the first step into the hallowed grounds. He clutched onto his Uncle's messenger back greatly, entering the cemetery not as Spider-Man, but as Peter Parker.

His eyes were pink, his cheeks were red.

His skin was pale, the cold gust of winds from the earlier hurricane still remained to keep him numb.

Donning his classic attire minus the undershirt, Peter Parker kept his head down while he traversed the deathly quiet resting grounds of those who came before and those who will come after.

He only raised it back up when he arrived at a familiar spot, the grass before the grave even being a different shade from the rest, showing how much the boy had visited the quiet spot.

"Hey, Uncle Ben…It's me again," Peter waved, giving a hollow smile at the empty gravestone inscribed with his Uncle's name.

He sat down in front of the towering grave, not minding the wet grass in front of it as he sat down in his usual spot.

"Sorry I couldn't bring any flowers…turns out, when it comes to money, I'm worse than you," Peter wholeheartedly laughed, looking up at the headstone.

In his mind, he imagined his Uncle's bewildered response.

In reality, he felt the gust of freezing cold air.

Peter Parker sat in front of a desolate and unresponsive gravestone that replaced his Uncle's warmth with an emptiness that could never be forgotten – never be filled.

His smile fell, his once open seating posture being closed again as the young teen brought his knees close to his chest, an act for warmth – for security.

"Aunt May is doing okay by the way, she missed a mortgage payment because of me but I…well…this friend of mine gave me the money to cover that…" Peter trailed off, always making sure to inform his Uncle firstly how the love of his life was doing.

He sniffed, rubbing his blue orbs before shifting his position, leaning on his Uncle's grave, getting as close as he could to his sacred presence which always made him feel safe, made him feel like it was okay.

But he could never do such a thing again, never feel his Uncle's presence, never feel his warmth – never be with him…

Never be with Captain Stacy…

Never be with Gwen…

Again.

He let the tears he's been holding back this entire time slowly fall, slowly opening the dam up.

"I um…I failed you again, Uncle Ben…" Peter Parker shamefully confessed, burying himself – hiding himself, in his knees.

"I couldn't protect Gwen, and I couldn't save Mr. Osborn, I couldn't save Captain Stacy, and I couldn't save others, and for all my smarts, I can't even take care of Aunt May on my own…" Peter Parker bashed himself. All his smarts, all his numerous talents which others always pointed out and praised him for did nothing when it came to protecting the ones he loved but that wasn't even his greatest offense, "And what's worse is that… I quit…I did nothing…and now this crime lord is running things and there's new villains, and there's girls…and it's all my fault…because like I did with you, I ignored my responsibilities…and like you…people are getting hurt…and I…" Peter Parker whimpered, informing his Uncle in between uncontrollable tears and sobs of his numerous failures and the results of them…

And his greatest wish he would give anything for….

"...And I just want to be with you again…" The seventeen-year old-boy pleaded, lifting his head up to gaze at the skies, exposing the streams of tears and a grieving expression that belonged to one who has gone through so much, suffered and lost so much, and would continue to do so…

He wanted his Uncle with him again.

It didn't have to be permanent, he just needed him for a singular moment, for his infinite wisdom and love to come swoop him up and guide him to do what was right.

"I want you to tell me what to do, what I can do, what I should do, what being better means…" Peter begged, shaking his head to rid himself from the countless thoughts – countless doubts and unknowns which plagued him.

"I want you to tell me that you're proud of me…" He mumbled, burying his head in his arms once more.

"Are you proud of me, Uncle Ben?" Peter Parker asked, unsure of the answer.

His only response was the silent whistle of the wind.

He sniffed.

"You know…I'm moving tomorrow…I'm gonna be going into this huge institute for Gifted Youngsters," Peter informed his Uncle who would have been ecstatic about such news a lifetime ago, "Turns out, I'm a mutant…I got this gene which gives me powers but it was kinda broken until the spider came and well…you know…" Peter nudged his head to the side.

"I don't really know what it means or what it's going to bring, but I promise I'll try and do right by you and Aunt May…" Peter promised his Uncle, wiping his tears and shaking his head, letting out a little laugh as a smile had managed to form on his face.

"...On a better note… I met…I met this girl…her name's 'Laura, Laura Kinney,'" Peter melancholically said, the thought of her bringing him joy but the absence of his Uncle and everyone else chaining that thought down with sorrow, "You'd like her a lot, I know Aunt May does. She's a much better learner than me – took me only saying 'with great power' once for her to understand it, whereas with me… it took…" he paused, looking down on the ground.

"See my agent boys! I'm busy," Spider-Man stated with an air of superiority, shutting the door behind him.

The underground and upcoming star walked down a hallway, a pair of clothes he would change into draped over his forearm.

"Stop! Thief! Stop him! If he makes it to the elevator, he'll get away!" An officer pleaded for the costumed star to stop the man who outran the officer with an adrenaline-fuelled sprint.

Peter Parker watched as the man ran past him.

He made eye contact with him.

A single outstretched foot – a punch, even usage of his web shooters would have stopped the guy in less than a second but…

He did nothing…

It wasn't his problem.

"She also gave me money to help Aunt May with the bills, and she got me to live at the institute, and to top it all off, she even helps me with The Spider-Man stuff," Peter joyfully and ecstatically exclaimed, voicing off just a few of the many things which made the girl amazing.

"She's new at this but she's way better than me at it already. There were these… girls, Uncle Ben…they were…bad things happened to them… and we were there and she…she took off her mask to show them that she was one of them – a person… I did the same but I doubt I would've even done it in the first place if it weren't for her…" he wouldn't have done it, he knew he wouldn't; his secret identity was of the utmost importance and if it wasn't for Laura taking off her mask then those girls would have only seen him as Spider-Man, the hero who had failed them…

"She's really great Uncle Ben. Really smart and really good – a real hero, even got into the whole hero thing because she just wanted to help…like Johnny, remember him?" Peter asked, having spoken about his super-powered friend in the similar manner he talked about Laura.

Peter smiled in complete admiration for his friends.

"I'm telling you, you'd really like them. They just do good because they want to…I do it because it's my responsibility…" He finished with disdain…"I bet you that if they were your nephews…or if anyone else was…you'd still be here today…and Aunt May wouldn't have to work, and the world would still have someone really special and great, but…I was your nephew…and the world is stuck with me…"

His speech bitterly and hatefully faded, his narrowed eyes abhorrently gazing at a distant reflection.

"…Peter… Parker…" he said as if the name was foreign to him, mumbling each syllable dejectedly and despondently…his weak voice cracking as the weight of the world and all his sins came crashing onto his shoulders.

"I-I'm so sorry, Uncle Ben…" he cried, holding himself in front of the grave which gave no response, "I'm so sorry for not listening – for saying the things that I-I said…for…for…for getting you killed…" he wept and whimpered, crying his eyes out as he apologized to someone who was no longer there, "I'm sorry for being the reason Aunt May has to work – for being the reason why you couldn't retire…for not doing the great things you thought I'd be doing…For letting you down – again, and again, and again," he shook his head violently, gripping at the sides of his head with disgust, with hate – with disappointment for himself –for Peter Parker.

The boy who was given everything yet absolutely failed at every turn.

"Can you tell me that everything's gonna be alright?" Peter Parker lifted his head up once more, hoping – praying – searching for someone and something to comfort him.

Searching for any sign of his Uncle.

"That you forgive me?"

"I don't want you lecturing me like you're my father! Telling me how you know what I'm going through – WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'VE %&*ING BEEN THROUGH! YOU HAD A FATHER! YOU HAD A MOTHER! A BROTHER! YOU HAD A FAMILY! A FAMILY THAT COULD AFFORD THINGS!" Peter Parker roared in his Uncle's face, using his power – his body, to size his aghast Uncle up.

"I HAVE NOTHING! THE WORLD YOU WANT ME TO HELP HAS TAKEN EVERYTHING I LOVE AWAY FROM ME! HAS DONE NOTHING BUT SCORN AND TELL ME THAT I'M NOT WANTED!"

"Pete-"

"A WORLD THAT'S STUCK ME WITH YOU! A MAN WHO HAS MORE STUPID LESSONS THAN HE DOES MONEY! A MAN WHO CAN'T EVEN SUPPORT HIS WIFE MUCH LESS HIS ORPHANED NEPHEW – YOU!A MAN WHO HAS MORE FAILURES THAN HE DOES SUCCESSES! AND YOU WANT ME TO LISTEN TO YOU!?" Peter Parker ragefully spat, tears in his eyes which quickly widened upon hearing the words that escaped his mouth.

He froze, staring at his Uncle's heartbroken – hurt, and anguished face.

Tears welled up in his Uncle's eyes.

He turned away, taking in all what his beloved nephew said.

A nephew he admired, and loved, and did everything he possibly could to support and be there for….and he lowered his head.

And he agreed.

Peter Parker growled – he snarled, he clenched his fists in absolute hate.

But none of that was for his Uncle.

He left the house.

Using that hate to win a match that would change his life irreversibly forever.

"Can…can you say that you love me again?" The young boy wailed, struggling to wipe away his tears.

"Just one more time?"

"Please… Uncle Ben…?" He pleaded to the dark unresponsive sky, searching for heavens he wished so desperately to be real.

"I'm starting to forget what your voice sounds like…" He dejectedly mumbled with his strained voice which cracked and crumbled under his weeps and cries for failures he could never undo, for people that were forever gone.

The young boy cried alone in the absolute black of twilight.

Those he loved, those he looked up to, those who he wanted to see again, forever out of his reach, looking down at him with disappointment, with disgust, with regret.

Regret that they ever knew a boy named Peter Parker.

Peter Parker regretted ever coming into their lives.

Ever existing.

He wanted to wipe it all away – start all over, create a world where he didn't exist, a world where someone else – someone better existed. Someone who wasn't such an abominable failure to take his place.

He wanted someone to be with him.

He wanted his Uncle…

"Do…do you need some help?" a soft and gentle, yet commanding and powerful voice hesitantly asked the crying young boy who was all alone.

Peter Parker instantly looked up, his Uncle's voice reaching his ears, but he squinted, his tear-filled eyes stinging from exposure to the cold air.

For a brief moment, the man's silhouette before him was that of his Uncle – for a brief moment the many voids in his heart were filled, but that was quickly undone when the visage of his Uncle went away, replaced by a towering man of muscle.

Peter Parker gulped, trying to regain steady breathing, wiping the legions of snot which came from his nose with his barren arm. He could barely see the giant before him through the tears but he could make up the handkerchief he was offering.

He graciously took it with a trembling arm, using it to roughly and hastily wipe away his tears.

"T-Thanks…" He gave it back to the man who was kneeling down in front of him, his large and well-built physique covering most of the background behind him.

His face was rectangular, containing a powerful and well-defined jawline. Everything about him looked powerful in fact, with the large and bulky brown leather jacket he wore which was littered with countless patches indicating that he was military.

He had wavy blonde hair which had a singular curl on his forehead.

Though his blue eyes which gently looked at him, which shared the same vulnerability he had, informed Peter Parker that powerful he may be, he was also kind.

"Who was he…your father?" He curiously and softly asked, looking at the name inscribed in the stone the boy leaned on.

The young boy nodded, shifting away from his spot to sit beside the man as they stared at the stone together.

"He was my Uncle…but…yeah…yeah, he was my father…he took me the moment my parents died," Peter informed the man, remembering how his week-long stay had suddenly been prolonged to be permanent the second his Uncle heard of his brother's passing.

No hesitation or a need to talk it out, his Uncle made the decision to take him in right then and there and if any lawyer had an issue he'd make sure they'd have a worse one.

The man beside him had a sympathetic gaze.

"My parents died when I was young too…" He admitted with the same sadness that was found in Peter's voice. The desperate longing, the want to see them again so that they can see how much they've grown – so that they could be proud.

Peter looked at the man with surprised eyes before lowering his gaze.

"I didn't realize it until he was gone…and I…I said some real hurtful things to him before he…" Peter gulped once more, stopping himself before more tears could come down.

"He expected real great things from me…but I can't help but feel like I've let him down," Peter confessed, bringing his knees close to his chest.

"I know the feeling…" The man confessed as well as he took a seat beside the boy.

"Someone I knew expected great things from me…and well…things happened and now…" The strong man trailed off, his eyes looking to the side as his mind brought him to days long since past.

"Now, you feel like maybe he was wrong?" Peter finished the sentence he had abandoned, knowing full well where the blonde-haired man beside him was going.

The man nodded solemnly, the small curl on his forehead bobbing with the movement.

"How do you deal with it?" Peter asked, hoping to find some guidance from the adult beside him.

"I dunno…the same way everyone else deals with it, I guess," The man honestly shrugged, "…I try to live up to them…but the world…"

"Seems so different from those days?" Peter Parker finished once more.

The man nodded.

"Who were you visiting?" Peter asked, sharing a glance with the man who raised both eyebrows in surprise.

If he was kind enough to ask him about his Uncle then Peter would reciprocate the gesture.

"Everyone I knew…" Peter Parker regretted asking the question, evident by his horrified and regretful expression though the man beside him huffed, "I've been gone a while," he stated softly, his infliction broadcasting that it was alright.

"It…it can't be everyone…can it?" Peter asked, hoping that the man would shake his head.

"No, not…not everyone I know is dead. I have…new people in my life – friends… but these ones were…" The man stopped talking, but he didn't need to say anything else, Peter Parker understood.

"From chapter one, right?...like…in a book?" The man nodded, finding it both surprising yet comforting that the boy who he sought to help understood his words.

Peter Parker felt the same.

"Something like that…though, I think…'origins' is a more fitting word," The man chuckled, with Peter following suit.

"Like a comic book?" He asked with a raised brow, already familiar with the word.

"Yeah…like a comic book," The Blonde haired man agreed with the brunette boy, amused by the comparison.

"Do you like comic books?" Peter asked, which prompted the man to laugh.

"I grew up wanting to draw them…you?" He nostalgically answered with a fond smile before returning the question to the boy.

"I'm a scrawny kid from Queens, what do you think?" Peter retorted which caused the man to laugh again.

"Scrawny kid from Brooklyn," The man humbly replied with a response of his own, though this prompted immense mock skepticism from Peter.

"Scrawny?" Peter sarcastically pointed out with a raised brow, looking at the man's huge body.

"It's been a while," he simply responded before raising a brow of his own, "And from what I see, you're not one to talk either, you got some meat on your bones for being a 'scrawny kid from Queens,'" he called out which caused Peter to chuckle, fortunate that all of the gashes he received from The Hobgoblin were mostly on his torso and all dried up, meaning that they wouldn't stain neither his pants nor shirt.

"Well…it's been a while," Peter remarked in the same way the man did.

They both chuckled.

"I'm uh…I'm gonna be having new people in my life too," Peter stated, perking the man's interest. Peter nudged his head to his Uncle's grave, "I was just telling him that I got accepted to join an institute up north and well, it's just…something I've never really done before and I…I don't really know what to do…" Peter finished with a lost and unsure voice which was mimicked by the man beside him.

"I…I don't really know what to do either," He said out of nowhere and quickly aware of this, he backtracked, shaking his head and saying, "Eh, forget it, you-" but he was sitting beside Peter Parker.

A boy who would help anyone at anything.

"No, it's fine...what…what were you going to say?" Peter inquired, wanting to hear what the man held back.

The man looked at him, surprised by the question before lowering his gaze, contemplating what he should say.

"I'm uh…military…ex-military – it's why I've been gone for a while," He said much to Peter's interest, "After my tour — tours…" He quickly rectified, "I came back to find out that almost everything had changed – was different…so I went back, did another tour – followed orders – the only thing I'm really good at – the only thing I know…but…even I'm not good at that anymore…" He muttered, scratching the top of his head before looking at the sky, searching for answers which would not be so easily found.

"There was this person I was supposed to bring in, someone really dangerous…but when I finally managed to capture them…all I found was a kid who was being used by others…" The man squinted his eyes as if the memory of the child was frustrating…painful.

"Did you take the kid in?" Peter asked, wondering what the man did.

He shook his head, "No…I let them go…It didn't seem right to me…and I left soon after," he stated before mockingly muttering the word 'right,' much to Peter's confusion but that was quickly replaced when the man gazed at him with regret and uncertainty.

"For as long as I can remember I just wanted to do what was right…to help people, but…I don't think I've been doing either of that as of late…I tried joining a group that was aimed towards helping people, but I'm not so sure it's what I want anymore…It's more paperwork and being told 'you can't help,' than it is helping…" He shook his head in shame which prompted Peter to ask him a simple question.

"You want a corny catchphrase?" The man raised a brow.

"I've probably already heard it – I'm the living embodiment of corny according to one of my new friends but… hit me," he smiled, wanting to hear what the boy had to say.

"With great power comes great responsibility," Peter sacredly stated much to man's surprise.

"You come up with that?" He asked with astonishment after muttering the phrase, analyzing the meaning and coming up with his own.

Peter smiled, humbly shaking his head.

"No, it was someone a whole lot smarter," He admiringly pointed right at his Uncle who the man looked on with surprise.

"Benjamin Franklin Parker sounded like a wise man," the man praised his Uncle which caused Peter to slowly nod.

"He was…I wish he was here right now… I…I could really use his help…"

"About what?" Now it was the man's turn to inquire.

"No, it's fine-" Peter shook his head, not wanting to share his problems with the man but if it was one thing he would immediately find out, he was not a quitter, nor was he someone who would just let a problem be.

"C'mon…" he pushed which prompted Peter to shake his head.

"Thanks but…I'll figure it out-"

""On my own?"" The man said at the same time Peter did.

Peter looked at the man with a level of surprise that caused him to look at him with amusement.

"I say the same thing…but…I always had a friend who would say 'thing is, you don't have to,' and he'd never listen to a thing I said afterward – unless it was a 'thank you'," He recounted, a wistful smile growing on his face.

"I have…friends like that too," Peter replied as memories came flooding in once more.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Spider-Man yelled at the top of lungs.

"THEN MAKE ME UNDERSTAND! IF YOU'RE SO SMART THEN YOU CAN DO THAT CAN'T YOU!?" The voice of Johnny Storm yelled louder, not giving up despite his fellow hero's protests.

The news had gotten to him again and with this, another outburst which was seen by all – including The Human Torch who sought to comfort his masked ally who he knew was the same age as him.

"I'M NOT LIKE YOU! I'M NOT RICH! I DON'T HAVE A LOT OF FRIENDS! EVERYONE HATES ME! AND I DON'T GET BRAND DEALS AND CELEBRATIONS FOR SAVING THE DAY! I GET THE POLICE AFTER ME AND EVERYONE IN MY LIFE THINKING I'M BAILING SCUM BECAUSE THEY DON'T KNOW WHO I AM!" Spider-Man vented all his accumulating frustrations, holding his fists tightly as he stomped on the ground in fury, "I NEVER ASKED FOR THESE POWERS!I NEVER ASKED TO BE SPIDER-MAN OR TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR HELPING PEOPLE! ALL I DID WAS BE IN THE WRONG PLACE, AT THE WRONG TIME, AND I WAS GIVEN ALL THESE POWERS!" He yelled at everyone – at everything.

"SO WHY DO YOU DO IT, IF YOU HATE IT SO MUCH!?" Johnny aggressively asked.

"BECAUSE SOMEONE I LOVED DIED BECAUSE I DID NOTHING! HE TOOK ME IN WHEN MY PARENTS DIED AND I REPAID HIM BY LETTING HIM DIE!"

"ALL BECAUSE OF A STUPID ACCIDENT!"

"THAT'S ALL I AM…an accident…" Spider-Man muttered.

The Blonde haired boy who he had grown close to looked at him with a surprised, – now understanding gaze, learning not only more – but also how to help the one who he wanted to be friends with.

"I'm an accident too…" Jonny reciprocated his voice but Peter sharply replied.

"Not like me…"

"How is it not like you? Do you know my origin story? You think you're the only orphan out there?" Johnny rhetorically asked, perplexed as to how he was any different, "Fifteen-year-old orphaned boy finds himself caught up in an accident like no other and is given extraordinary power! Does that ring any bells to you?" He asked once more but Spider-Man looked away, unwilling to answer – not wanting to.

"And with those powers said boy used them to SAVE PEOPLE, to help!" Johnny continued but this sparked a reaction from The Webslinger.

"Not at first!" Peter hastily responded.

"But the end results are the same!" Johnny instantly replied leaving no room for arguing as he continued to voice his thoughts – his beliefs, "Yeah, you never asked for your powers, and yeah, everyone does hate you and blame you for everything, but don't go lying to me and say that you never wanted to be Spider-Man, 'cause if that was the case you would've quit a long time ago!" Johnny confidently declared, pointing fiercely at the Hero in front of him.

"The reason I didn't is because I learned a lesson after letting my Uncle die…" Peter confessed and Johnny paused, taking the moment of silence as room for him to talk.

"And you decided to listen to that lesson – you decided to help – you CHOSE to help…like me," he encouraged Peter who shook his head violently in disbelief.

"I know you Spidey –" The Human Torch sincerely said though Peter didn't buy it.

"You don't even know the hell I am –" He fiercely said but Johnny quickly interrupted him.

"I don't need to, you put on a costume every single day and go out for the single purpose of just helping everyone and anyone you come across. You've done it yesterday, you've done it today, and despite all this talk about quitting, I know you'll do it tomorrow, and the next, and the week after that, because I do know who you are!" he adamantly declared much to the angered hero's surprise.

"You're a good guy," Johnny spat, "You're Spider-Man!" he yelled louder, pointing his finger once more at him before turning it to himself, "You're my friend, and you're also the biggest idiot I know," He stated with the utmost belief.

Peter looked at him with confusion.

"You've probably done the math and all that nerd stuff to find out the exact, 'less than a percent chance' which led us to get our powers, but what a science loser like you should understand is that there was no chance, no accident, it was fate – destiny," Johnny explained much to Peter's bafflement, destiny? Fate? There was no such thing, just a random accident that spurred his life off course.

"Out of everyone who could've gotten our powers, it was us who got them, and with them, we've gone out and used them to save lives! If that's not destiny then what else is it?" Johnny challenged Peter to retaliate, to come up with a smarter answer to disprove his thinking but for once – well twice now, Peter Parker found himself moved by his friend's words.

He had a point, out of everyone who could have gotten bit that day it was him, and just like everyone else, he used his powers for his own gain but then his actions lead to the death of someone he loved.

He's done the calculations on those too.

It was less than a 0.0000000000000001% chance.

Maybe it was fate.

"Destiny huh?" Spider-Man reiterated, looking on at another child of accident or hero chosen by destiny.

Maybe he was fated to be Spider-Man, fated to use his Uncle's teaching to aid the world just like Uncle Ben always dreamed of him doing.

There was an odd comfort he had with that idea.

"Yeah…" Johnny mumbled, slightly embarrassed from voicing his opinion.

"Friend?" Peter Parker reiterated, the word in his mouth sounded right when he looked at the boy who always aided him, who he had grown to bond with and care about throughout their numerous misadventures.

A boy like him.

A boy he trusted.

"Unfortunately," Johnny reluctantly said, crossing his arms and looking away, letting a breath out as a means to distract his anxiously racing mind which berated the hot head from expressing his thoughts.

"Hey, Johnny, I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said," Spider-Man chuckled which prompted Johnny to chuckle too.

"Well, I can-" he began to say, wanting to boast and stroke his ego some more but when he looked back at the Web-Slinger, he was not met with a red mask with large white bug eyes, but with the uncomfortable, almost nervous face of…of…of his photographer and fellow teenage peer…

"P-Peter?"

Peter got a lot of flak from Johnny that day, also a lot of questions about his origins, all his socials, and his phone number.

Peter Parker found himself wondering if it was a smart move to have Johnny Storm be the first person who he exposed his identity to and if he could maintain it with his mouth which never closed.

It was.

And he could.

Peter Parker never regretted showing Johnny Storm his identity, with his only wish being that he did it sooner.

But Johnny Storm wasn't his only closest friend.

"I um...I have this friend…another friend…and his father…his father was a bad guy…and he did… bad things, and I tried getting him to stop, but he didn't and…and I had to stop him…" Peter tried to explain the complex relationship he had with the Osborn family to the man beside him who also found it hard to follow.

"You…called the police on him?" The man inquired, wrapping his head around the situation.

Peter quickly nodded, "Something like that…but…now…now he's without a dad and I can hardly look at him without seeing his father and I…I don't really know what to do…he's not talking to me and I…" Peter drifted away, his mind trying to piece together what to do with Harry Osborn whose mere visage brought him great trauma, like The Hobgoblin.

"How long have you known him?" The man asked, trying to learn more about his friend before coming up with his own answer.

"I've known him since the beginning of High School…when…when everyone laughed at me…picked on me…bullied me…" he scowled, remembering how the others treated him but forgotten memories of his friend lifted him up, "...Harry…Harry was the only one who was there and I…"

Weak and scrawny fourteen-year-old Peter Parker watched with absolute surprise from his spot on the ground as a boy stood in between him and the group which was dead set on humiliating and making his first year of High School hell.

"I DON'T CARE HOW MANY OF YOU THERE ARE, IF YOU WANT TO TOUCH HIM YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO GO THROUGH ME!"

"...I'm not there for him…"

Peter Parker realized his fatal error.

Harry Osborn, the first friend he ever made in High school was always there for him, always there to stop Flash from picking on him, there when his Uncle died, there when Captain Stacy died, and now…now he was alone…suffering from the loss of his father…from the loss of Gwen…and Peter wasn't there for him….

He was alone…in the dark…like Norman.

"You know what it sounds like to me?" The man rhetorically asked, already coming up with the obvious answer as to what Peter should do.

Peter looked at the man keenly, waiting for him to help him with his dilemma.

"Sounds like he could use a friend at the moment," He earnestly stated.

"But…" Peter looked away, ashamed that he failed yet another one he cared about.

The man put his hand on his shoulder, "But, you made a mistake no one can fault you for – no one can blame you for. I don't know anything about his father, but I know from what you've told me, you did what you thought was right, yes?"

Peter nodded, "It could've been better, I could have talked more… maybe if…maybe If I connected with his father more I could've found the other way…"

"Hindsight always burdens us with what we could've done better, and often that knowledge…weighs us down… but…it's all in the past now…and we can't do anything to change it. What we can do, is use it to be better in the future," The man said with awe-inspiring conviction and wisdom that Peter Parker found himself looking up to.

"And how do I do that?" He asked as the man cast a light on one of his many shadows.

"Connect with your friend Harry, 'cause if it's one thing that never changes, it's that friends are there for each other…till the end of the line," The man firmly stated as if it was a core tenant of his being.

"Till the end of the line…" Peter Parker repeated, looking up at the man and smiling, grateful for all the help he has done, "Thanks, I think…I think I'll call to check up on him after this," Peter voiced to the man who fatherly patted his shoulder.

"Sounds like a plan," The man smiled, getting up to his feet and offering his hand to help the boy get on his.

"Thank you," Peter thanked the man not just for the aid of getting up, but for his time, his words, his encouragement.

"Anytime, Son," The man patted him on the shoulder, a smile on his face as he did such a thing.

Peter didn't know how he could repay him for all the help he had done.

That is until he felt his pocket for his wallet.

"You know…you said you wanted to help people, right?" Peter asked, taking out his Captain America designed wallet which prompted the six-two man to raise a brow.

"Here," Peter handed him a card which he curiously took.

The man's eyes widened.

"There's a homeless shelter there, they're always looking for volunteers and you do a whole bunch of stuff. You make food for others, you hand them clothes and supplies – help them get back on their feet in any way you can…my-my Aunt works there and…and I think you might like it," Peter informed him as he curiously read the details of the card handed to him.

"I…I think I will," the man graciously said, gently putting the card in his wallet before appreciatively turning to the boy who gave it to him, "Thank you…" He tried to show his gratitude to the boy who had given him something to look into, but despite their long talk, he never got his name.

"Peter…Peter Parker," he introduced himself, sticking out his hand.

"Steve Ro-...Steve…Buchanan…Hammond," The man took a second to say before taking the boy's hand – shaking it firmly.

Peter laughed upon hearing the name.

"What's so funny?" Steve asked, wanting to know what caused the boy to giggle like a child.

"No-nothing it's just…it rhymes," Peter noted which caused Steve to think about his name and chuckle as well, clearly amused.

"I guess it does," Steve huffed.

"You going home?" Steve inquired with a raised brow as their hands returned to their sides.

"Yeah…I think…I think I'm ready to go…" Peter said with a nod.

He said what he needed to say, and though he still had an insurmountable weight in his heart, his journey through yesterday had lightened it to a much more bearable amount.

"If you want, I can drive you to the station or wherever you'd like," Steve offered, flattering Peter but he respectfully shook his head.

"Thanks but…I'll head back on my-"

Steve gave him a look.

Peter paused.

He looked down.

And he looked back up, giving the man a smile.

"Yeah…if you could drop me off at Grand Central that'd be great," Peter said, accepting the man's offer.

"It would be my pleasure, Peter," Steve smiled, patting the boy on the back and bringing him to his choice of vehicle which left him amazed.

"This is yours!?" Peter asked with astonishment, looking on at the motorcycle in front of him.

It was a nineteen-forty-two Harley Davidson Liberator.

He knew this because this was Captain America's motorcycle.

They stopped building these years ago, and though he didn't know much about vehicles, he knew that almost most of the parts were authentic.

It must've been custom-made or something.

"Yeah," Steve proudly declared, watching the boy observe every detail with childlike wonder.

"This-This is awesome, how did you get this?" Peter turned to the man with excitement in his eyes.

"Got it from a friend," Steve simply replied.

"Must be some friend," Peter once again said with astoundment.

"You can say that," Steve slyly shrugged, getting on his motorcycle and putting on his helmet before gesturing towards Peter to get on behind him.

"Put this on," The man took off his chestnut brown leather jacket and handed it to Peter who felt like a dwarf upon putting it over himself.

"You wear this?" He exclaimed in surprise, amazed by how huge it was.

"Eh, you grow into it eventually," He replied with a smile before taking off with the powerful roar of his engine.

The two kids from Queens and Brooklyn traveled through the streets of New York, their conversation never ceasing as they inquired more about the other.

"I saw your wallet, are you a fan of Captain America?" Steve genuinely inquired, looking over his shoulder to look at the boy who was slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah…I mean…who isn't? The guy's amazing, I grew up watching his cartoons and movies,' Peter stated with absolute awe which caused Steve to look away.

"You?" Peter returned the question.

"On some days I am," Steve honestly answered which confused Peter but he decided not to press, wondering who Steve's favorite hero was if it was not the classic himself.

"So…who's your favorite superhero?" Peter asked which caused the blonde-haired man to 'hmm' to himself.

"Me? I don't know…but If I had to pick one it would have to be Spider-Man," He stated looking at Peter from one of the side mirrors to see what his reaction would be.

Peter Parker was caught off guard, "Spider-Man…but why?" Peter asked, wondering why anyone would like him currently with the mayor calling for his arrest and all typical Spider-Man stuff.

"I've asked people about him, the police, the fireman – people he's saved, and they all say the same thing," Steve stated which caused Peter to press for more.

"What?" What did the greater New York populace say about him?

"That he's Astonishing."

---

Steve drove Peter to the station, wishing him good luck with the move and graciously thanking him for the opportunity to volunteer at F.E.A.S.T – an opportunity he would take.

He made sure to tell Peter that he better see him there on one of his shifts, and Peter chuckled, making a promise that he would.

Peter Parker made it home at ungodly hours, carefully opening his door so as to not wake his Aunt. He needed to pack his things before they picked him up tomorrow but to his wonder – to his surprise, all his things were ready to go and set in the living room.

"I was wondering when you'd get back," His Aunt said with amusement, sitting on the couch with a dim light beside her– obviously waiting for her beloved nephew to return.

"Au-Aunt May…wha-what are you doing up?"

"Packing your things, of course, all your clothes and such are ready to go," Aunt May stated with a loving smile as she stood in front of her nephew – her big and strong, and kind nephew.

"Bu-but I said I'd do them," Peter staunchly said with a hint of regret, not wanting his Aunt to work harder than she already should.

"I know, but I never said, 'I didn't wanna do them,'" Aunt May slyly remarked with a chuckle, "Besides, if I didn't do them then you'd be up all night causing a huge ruckus packing and I wouldn't be able to sleep."

Peter looked at his Aunt with wide eyes before smiling.

Aunt May always had his back.

Now it was time for him to have hers.

Aunt May tilted her head and watched as her nephew took out his wallet and stuck out multiple bills worth three-hundred dollars in total towards her, "I…I saw the bills so I went out to sell some pictures to Mr. Jameson."

Aunt May was taken back, putting her hand over her heart before taking the money with great surprise, "Oh…Peter…" she said, flattered by the gesture.

"Uh...It wasn't just me…but… Laura too," Peter scratched the back of his head, blushing a little, "Mr…Mr. Jameson could only give me two hundred, and she saw that I was all disappointed and figured I needed more so…so she gave me an extra hundred…and well…I couldn't really decline," Peter laughed, thinking about the staunch determination which crossed her face when she adamantly pressed him to take her money.

"She did?" Aunt May was flabbergasted and honored about hearing the service Laura Kinney had done.

"Yeah…she did," Peter admiringly stated.

"I know, it's not nearly enou-"

"Oh no Peter, this is just what I needed. I'll go make the payment right now!" Aunt May exclaimed, taking him into a great big hug that caught him off guard.

He fell into it, and with sullen eyes, he stated, "I visited him today, Aunt May…"

He sniffed, feeling the coming rush of emotions once more.

Aunt May pulled him away, a saddened gaze on her face as she watched her nephew deal with the coming tears, "Wo…w…would he be proud?" Peter Parker whimpered, looking at her with uncertain tear-stained eyes.

Aunt May hastily dealt with them, bringing her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her, "Of course, he would, Peter!" Aunt May swiftly stated but he dejectedly looked at her.

"Are-are you sure?" he cried, needing confirmation again, his mind unable to accept his Aunts words, taking them in as nothing's parents always said.

"Peter, what is your name?" Aunt May firmly asked, wanting him to reiterate his full name but he shook his head, not wanting to answer the question.

"Peter?" Aunt May reiterated softly, the boy barely meeting her gaze.

"Peter…Peter…Benjamin…Parker…" he squealed out, voicing the middle name he hid to his aunt who brought him into a hug once more.

"That's right Peter, and do you know where you get it from?" Aunt May asked, clutching him dearly.

Peter Benjamin Parker nodded.

"You get it from him," She proudly declared, pulling the resisting boy away so she could face him, "And you do the name justice, and I'm not just saying it because you're my nephew, I'm saying it because you honor the man I love – the man you're named after, better than anyone else ever could," She brushed his hair lovingly.

"Bu-...but…" He tried to protest but his Aunt silenced him.

"Ben may be dead Peter…but that doesn't mean he's gone…" she sobbed lightly, pausing as tears began welling in her eyes, "I knew him better than anyone else – better than him, and I know that Benjamin Parker's heart – is yours Peter, and I know that with that heart of yours – of his, you will go out into the world and do marvelous things just like he always dreamed of – just like I know you will," she declared with all her heart, light tears streaming from her eyes as heavy drops went down Peter's.

"Just remember, alright?" Aunt May asked with a loving smile filled with the utmost care, admiration, and trust for her nephew.

"That wi-with great power…comes great responsibility?" Peter answered with uncertainty, unsure of what his Aunt wanted him to remember.

"No, dear," She laughed, wiping away his tears, "If it is one thing my Ben wanted you to remember of him – of us, it wasn't that," she threw away his answer, leaving him perplexed.

"Tha-than what…?" Peter Benjamin Parker asked, his watery blue orbs meeting his Aunt's, searching for the answer he didn't know within them.

"It's that we love you and that wherever you go, we'll always be here," She pointed at his heart.

"Oh!" Aunt May exclaimed as was brought into a fierce and loving hug by her sobbing and crying nephew.

"I…I love you too, Aunt May!" Peter Benjamin Parker cried, remembering that his Uncle Ben and Aunt May…

Loved him.

---

Peter Benjamin Parker sniffed, packing up the untouched Spider-Man gear and his desktop computer, the fresh interaction with his Aunt uplifting his mind.

Everything was ready, his room was all cleared.

The only thing left to do was make some calls that were long overdue.

He sat on his bed, for what would be the last time and pulled out his phone, looking for a specific contact before calling it.

He was left on voice message but that didn't sway him.

"Hey, Harry…." He began to say, trying to find the right words, "I know…I know we haven't talked recently but…but I just wanted to say that…if you ever wanted to talk to a…blabbering idiot who tells the worst jokes then…I'm here for you – always," he finished, sending out the message and putting his phone away.

His phone went off soon after though, causing him to instantly pick it up.

"Harry!" Peter exclaimed as he said the caller I.D's name.

"...Hey…Pete…" The familiar and extremely exhausted voice of Harry Osborn said, "I heard your message buddy, and well…I don't know what's wrong with me but…talking to a blabbering idiot who tells the worst jokes is something I want to do," He stated with a chuckle which prompted Peter to laugh.

The two talked to each other with small laughs here and there as both friends reconnected with each other.

"How've you been holding up, Harry?" Peter inevitably asked, which caused the conversation to take a pause, the solemn joy the two had with each other getting replaced by silence as his friend searched his feelings.

"Well…actually…all things considered Pete, I'm doing pretty well," Harry nervously chuckled which surprised Peter.

"Really?" Peter excitedly asked which caused his friend to laugh.

"Ye-Yeah…I…I actually met a girl who's been helping me," Harry admitted which increased Peter's interest immensely.

"Who?"

"Her names 'Mary Jane Watson,'" He pronounced each syllable as if they were sacred, "She's a party girl, and a bit of a goth too. She's got this amazing short red hair, and the prettiest green eyes I've ever seen, and what's great is…she's like me. She's really been helping me through all of it, Pete," Harry affectionately declared before asking Peter how he's been holding up.

The answer was surprisingly similar.

"I met a girl too, her name's 'Laura Kinney,'" Peter pronounced with the utmost affection, "And well, she's very much a goth," he chuckled, "Now I've never seen this Mary Jane but I don't think I need to in order to state that Laura has the prettiest green eyes on the planet," Peter adamantly declared, picturing her beautiful smile.

"How much are ya willing to bet on that?" Harry challenged in a friendly and warm competitive tone.

"Everything," Peter stated with a smile, ready to die on the hill if needed.

"So what, a whole two cents?" Harry remarked which caused the two to chuckle.

"Three, actually," Peter played along.

"Wow! Look at Mr. Money bags over here, making his way up in the world," Harry laughed.

"Hey…I gotta start somewhere, I can't be broke forever, can I?" Peter joined in with his friend's laugh.

The laughter they shared died down.

"Hey, Pete?" Harry softly asked which prompted a "Yeah?" from Peter.

"I'm glad you called," Harry graciously declared.

"I am too," Peter reciprocated the tone.

"Maybe we could hang out one of these days, but it would have to be in a couple of weeks since things are busy with…my father's passing and all that…" Peter took him up on the offer immediately, telling him that it was alright, that he was moving to an institute which amazed his friend Harry.

"I always knew you were going to be going places, Pete," Harry admirably stated.

"Hey, you are too," Peter wasn't the only one leaving Midtown, Harry was choosing to spend his last year at a top-of-the-line private school his father always wanted him to attend. They exchanged information about the schools and talked about what the school year would be like, they even made plans to see each other and bring their new friends with them but Peter warned that Laura might not be the friendliest at first.

"You remember who my father was?" Harry rhetorically quipped, alright with the possibility of Laura not being sociable, Mary Jane would fix that instantly.

The conversation ended with the two vowing to remain friends for as long as they live.

"Thanks for calling Pete, I look forward to seeing you again," Harry wholeheartedly stated.

"I do too Harry, and I meant what I said. I'm with you….till the end of the line," Peter stated with the utmost conviction.

He would not allow Harry to fall into the same pit his father did.

"Till the end of the line," Harry reciprocated, ending the call, and the night on a good note.

That just left one more person to call.

---

Laura Kinney walked into her room, donning nothing but a bra and pajama pants.

She panted, tired and exhausted from the harsh training exercise she conducted previously in order to hone her skills and distract her mind, but within the shadows of her room, with nothing left to do but think, they quickly came back.

She sat on her bed, holding a long-sleeved undershirt that clearly belonged to a boy.

She pondered what the proper term for weapon – the super soldier, changed – if it changed anything…she thought about her nature…

"Didya' really think that saving a couple people and putting on a costume would make you a hero?" a high-pitched, twisted voice of a woman spoke, her form manifesting herself in the corner of her room.

Laura glared at her and the smile which took great pleasure in causing harm – in hurting – in killing.

"I'm getting tired of repeating myself, X-23? You were not made to be a person, you were not made to be a hero or a girl who is cared about, you were made to be a weapon – merchandise created to kill, that's it! That's what you are! That's your nature! That's all you'll ever be!" The phantom snarled.

"Shut up," Laura hissed, clutching the shirt dearly.

"Look at you," The woman disgustingly said, eyeing the shirt, "Hanging on to every word the stupid boy tells you-"

"He's not stupid!" Laura staunchly declared, angrily staring at the woman who scoffed at her statement.

"He actually believes you're beautiful… kind...good, – he actually cares about you – is dumb enough to believe you can change and you're actually buying all of it – thinking to yourself that he's your knight in shining armor here to deliver you from your prison!" The shadow snickered, laughing at the girl's internal thoughts before appearing right in her face, fierce hatred burning in her eyes, "But do you deserve to be delivered for all the lives you've taken?"

She asked, causing the girl's gaze to falter along with her hold on the shirt.

"It…It's not my fault…" Laura halfheartedly answered but the spirit laughed.

"Sure, for the sake of this conversation let's say those were all on me, but what about the plenty you killed after? What about that man you nearly killed? Or was that also not your fault?" She accusingly mocked Laura's voice as her heart sank further and further – unable to answer the question, unable to refute it.

Her hold on the shirt she clutched on slipping more and more.

"I-" The voice began to say but paused immediately, like the girl's heart when her phone began to ring.

The shadow and the girl shared a glance as Peter Parker called her.

And Laura answered it, looking at the shadow as she did.

"Hey, Laura," his soft voice said through the phone, causing Laura to quickly shift her gaze to the side, where she imagined him to be.

"...Hel-lo…" She responded slowly, wondering why he was calling her at this hour but not annoyed or frustrated.

"I couldn't help but recognize your expression being gloomier when we left and well…the hundred you gave me was enough to help cover the bills Aunt May had to pay…" Peter told her with the utmost joy and happiness in his voice.

"And?" Laura asked, expecting such an outcome.

"And I…I just wanted to say…thank you, and thanks for helping me with the hero stuff, you're pretty good at it," Peter praised though all it did was sink her heart and the shadow of her mind to scoff.

"...I…I do not think so…" Laura confessed, gaze on the ground and shirt loose on her lap.

"Oh, c'mon… is it because of the guy?" bafflement riddled Peter's voice as the boy tried coming up with a reason why she would say such a thing. The girl nodded, and though Peter Benjamin Parker couldn't tell, her silence confirmed his suspicion, "You can't beat yourself up over him, sure you almost killed him but you didn't…"

"I didn't because of you!" Laura admitted, remembering how her burning fury had only been tamed – stopped, by him, "If you were not there, I would have killed him because… because…"

"Because…" The shadow said, leading her on as to why she could never be a proper hero…or person…

"I wanted to…I wanted to…" She confessed with shame, the silence from the boy heightening it further.

But Peter Parker could only stay silent for so long.

"...M-Maybe in the moment you did but…can you honestly say you want to kill him now?" Peter asked, promoting the girl to look inside herself and honestly declare…

"A part of me does."

"And the other part?"

"...the other part wonders if I can truly stop killing…" she muttered, her actions from before and the words of the shadow and Kraven leaving her riddled with the question she could not answer.

The Facility had intended her to kill, she was created to kill, cloned from someone who killed, could she ever escape? Could she really stop?

"So what? You're just gonna give up like that? You make one mistake and boom – done, that's it?" Peter berated, trying to get through to her.

"I have made multiple – "

"I have too, and if I'm being honest, you have a much more valid excuse than I do," Peter fiercely stated, reminding her that most of her life was dedicated to the sole purpose of killing, but…realizing – knowing, that a harsh response was the last thing she needed during her time of uncertainty, Peter Benjamin Parker took a step back and took a deep breath.

"Look…Laura, if you don't want to be one, know that you don't have to, it won't change a thing. I'm still gonna be around to bother you," Peter reassured her, uplifting her heart ever so slightly by telling her that he would still stand by her side, "It's alright for you to give up the mask but if you're giving up because you don't think you're good at it than your wrong!" Peter adamantly stated with sheer belief and passion.

"Maybe you do want to kill people – I do too, and maybe that's what you were made to do, but…but that doesn't matter…there was…this guy…and he told me that 'we are who we choose to be,'" Peter quoted, challenging her beliefs, "And you choose to save people, remember? On the night we met – those people in the cars, the Connors – yesterday, the girls today, they all looked at you and called you a hero, because you were to them…and you are to me!"

Laura Kinney's eyes widened as did the shadows, her heart stopped ever so briefly before violently picking up pace, providing the rapid growth of heat and appearance of color.

"Wha-What?" she asked, wondering if she heard right while her other hand subconsciously gripped his shirt again.

"Yeah…I mean…how could you not? you literally saved me the day we met," Peter nervously chuckled while Laura looked back on the memory, recalling that it was the opposite.

"You were the one who saved me that day," She declared, vividly remembering him saving her from The Lizard's grasp and her snarling at him in return.

"Yeah, but you saved me first, and you've continued to save me since then," Peter reminded her with all his heart, recalling how she stood on top of him to protect him from The Hobgoblin's impalement.

Laura remembered that memory too.

She didn't rebuke his answer.

"In my view, Laura – no one else's, you're my hero," Peter softly stated much to the shadow's dismay and Laura's growing joy? Hope? Elation? "And you're a good person," it was most definitely all three.

Laura paused, the fingers gripping her phone subtly twitching as life and warmth had returned, providing her comfort.

The shadow was gone.

"Peter…?" Laura Kinney softly stated, looking at his shirt.

"Yeah…?"

"You are my hero, too…" She softly whispered, her heart threatening to burst as a small smile made its way on her face while she recalled the various moments of extreme kindness he had conducted to her and others.

Peter Parker has suffered in the same way she has, losing the ones he loved, has been hated and abused, but he set out to put on a mask and use his powers for good, to protect, for no reward but the action of helping others despite it being detrimental.

He was even calling her to make sure she was alright, all because of her expression when they departed.

Peter paused, a massive blush making its way onto his face causing him to deal with it the only way he knew how.

"... hmph…You should probably get better heroes the-" He tried to joke but the girl sharply interjected.

"Do not do that," she fiercely snapped, causing him to pause in confusion.

"Do what?"

"Deprecate yourself, I do not like it," She stated with the utmost frustration.

"I was onl –"

"I don't care. I do not like it, and I do not want to hear it," It did not matter if he was joking or not…it…it hurt…to see someone who ceaselessly helped others, who cared about them – who cared about her – who she cared about, treat or refer to himself as if he was a mistake - a curse, a plague.

He was the opposite.

"You are…a good person…I do not want to hear anything else," She struggled to say, the expression of her thoughts and emotions always being a difficult task she avoided doing but this was something that needed to be said.

Something she wanted to say.

And something he needed.

The boy who had spent the last hour believing himself to be nothing but a disappointing, disgraceful, individual…sniffed…touched by her words.

Peter Parker rubbed his eyes before responding.

"Got it?" She fiercely asked in an authoritative voice.

"Got it," he graciously responded, causing Laura to smile

"Do not make me say it again," she stated both fiercely and softly, before raising a brow at Peter's response.

"Or what?" He challenged her with a mischievous tone which caused her to release her breath.

She contemplated what to do or say before inevitably placing her phone flat on her bed, putting it on speaker and bringing the hand that held it close to the microphone.

Snikt.

"You gonna claw me over the phone?" Peter remarked, poking fun at her playful threat.

"If I must," she admitted with amusement, a growing smile on her face.

"I'm so scared," Peter mockingly stated in a frightened voice.

"You will be, tomorrow," Laura Kinney threatened affectionately, looking forward to seeing him once more.

"That sounds like tomorrow's Peter's problem," Peter retorted, which caused her to roll her eyes and huff.

With a wide brimming smile on her face which she shared with Peter Parker.

"Hey, Laura…" Peter asked, gaining her immediate attention.

"Thank you," he said from the bottom of his heart.

Laura Kinney blushed, bringing a hand over her heart as she paused, trying to find the right words.

"I should be the one…thanking you…" she softly stated which caused him to chuckle.

"I take it Talon will be appearing in the next issue then?" Peter asked with a raised brow.

Laura nodded, "Yes…she will."

She was unsure of her nature but…she was who she chose to be…and maybe…just maybe…she could be what she so desperately wanted to be with Peter Parker at her side.

"Good, 'cause I'm going for a rebranding," Peter told her, which gained her interest.

"The Amazing Spider-Man was yesterday's Spider-Man – old news, I'm going for a newer one – a better one – one that no one else has seen before and it begins with a new title! How does…'The Astonishing Spider-Man & Talon' sound?" Peter voiced out their new title much to her amusement.

"Sounds like something…Peter Parker would come up with," it had the tackiness down, and the ridiculous showmanship which was bordering on pretentious but considering who the title belonged to, it was…fitting.

"And something Laura Kinney would like, right?"

Because Peter Parker truly is someone who was astonishing.

"Yes."

And he made her believe she was too.

"Alright! I'll work on the title cards as soon as I get there!" Peter joyfully exclaimed, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? After the whole moving and setting up thing is done, we can go out and get something to eat before I show you the ropes of the whole superhero gig. Forget The Charles Xavier Institute, from this moment on, you're joining the Peter Parker School for a troubled teenage superhero, where it's you and me against childhood programming!" Peter pitched to her with the best salesman voice he could muster.

Laura let out a small laugh, amused by his pitch, "Okay…I look…forward to seeing you…Peter…" she said with endearment, her smile still present as she clutched his shirt dearly – affectionately.

"I…I look forward to seeing you, too," Peter reciprocated with the same amount of fondness that her voice contained.

The two began to lie down on their beds, their phones next to them as they pulled their sheets over their bodies, Laura Kinney still clutching on the shirt given to her by him.

"And Laura?" Peter said through a tired yawn.

"Yes, Peter?" Laura said in a quiet, soft voice, the activities of the long day hitting her the moment she rested her head on her pillow.

"I'm with you …Always, never forget that," Peter softly declared.

Laura brought his shirt over her nose, taking in his scent as butterflies flew around her stomach.

"I won't," she happily replied, "And Peter, I'm with you too – always," she promised to both herself and him.

It wasn't just Spider-Man and Talon.

But it was Peter Parker and Laura Kinney.

Two teenagers who have lost and been through so much, two weapons who refuse to be what their creators wanted them to be – two heroes, striving to make the world a better place.

They both understood that.

It brought them comfort and joy.

And a little something else…

A Lot of something else.

"Good night, Laura," Peter wished softly, unable to keep the encroaching call of slumber at bay.

"Good night, Peter," Laura wished as well, her smile growing larger when she heard his immediate snoring on the other end.

She rolled her eyes.

She ended the call.

And drifted off into a slumber where it was him and her.

Peter Benjamin Parker did the same.

Peter Benjamin Parker dreamed a wonderful dream – an astonishing dream.

He was swinging through the bright New York sunset, Laura Kinney's arms wrapped around him as Johnny Storm flew beside him.

The Fantastic Four was not far behind in their Fantasti-car, Daredevil ran on the rooftops, as a man on a motorcycle – Steve, drove on the streets below him, even grouchy ole' Nick Fury was watching him from over his shoulder.

His Aunt May was behind in the distance, waving to him lovingly as Uncle Ben, Gwen, and Captain Stacy looked at him…

…With pride.

…With love.

All of them behind him – following him - there for him, as he swung towards an institute in the distance.

Bidding Farewell, to The Amazing Spider-Man.

End.

---

^&ck, am I crying or are you crying?

This was my love letter to the Spider-Man character and mythos and a proper send off to the classic Peter Parker we know, for this Peter Parker will be going down a new road, a road I'd really love to explore as best, and as much as possible.

This Peter Parker will have a new cast, a new father figure, a new lover, a new best friend, and will learn lessons and do things modern Peter Parker never could.

This was a send off to the Peter Parker of old and I poured everything, my heart, my soul, my fucking tears to show you everything I love about the character and everything I've ever wanted out of it. wanted to show the importance of each and every character and more importantly the importance of Laura, even with my new spin which is taking Peter Parker out of his box, i wanted to show that even a Peter Parker who is contained in his usual box could still work with her fantastically.

Captain George Stacy - for those who don't know, I'm Canadian and I volunteer alot with the end game goal of wanting to become a cop and help people, I molded him after my own beliefs which was forged by my teachers. The police and the people should hold each other accountable and work together to strive for a better future, so I hope I did good on that while also having that lesson be able to be used for the future mutant plot lines.

Fuck me, I was crying alot writing it, this was exhastuing.

I want all of you to get on your knees though, that good extra 1,700 people who read my story - you guys better follow and better heart this, cause I want plenty of reviews because I laid all my ideas flat on the table for this story, save for a Logan segment im pushing to next chapter.

Funny thing is, I wrote this chapter cause I didnt wanna write the Daredevil BUllseye fight so I procrastinated and wrote this in two days - it's good to have an outline written out.

I'm gonna end it here [ the chapter i mean ].

Have a good one.