Aunt May had questioned me coming in through the fire escape the first night I came home late, but I explained it by saying it was better exercise. Now I come in through my bedroom window more often than the front door. I slowly opened the window and crawled onto my roof. That day had been long, and May's cooking was smelling like heaven. As I got changed I heard her through my locked door.

"It's late Peter!"

"I know May, I was job hunting again." In truth, I had meant to job hunt today. Nursing was a very respectable job, especially for someone as old as her, but it didn't pay the bills as well as it should. I had been taking up odd jobs around town; that didn't really make up for a full time job though. Heck, I would settle for part time.

"Oh, on with that job talk again. You should be focusing on school dear. It's your last year after all." Walking out of my room, the smell of bread and pasta filled my head. May's cooking could bring back the dead. Even in this run down apartment we called home, she made everything feel warm and cozy. After Uncle Ben died, we moved to the cheapest place we could find while she searched for a job. Four months later and this short term solution was looking more long term.

"School's fine. You, of all people, should know that grades aren't an issue for me." Awards from math and science contests lined the walls. She seemed more proud of them than I was. The most recent one was stuck to the fridge, which I thought I had grown out of but May insisted that it was 'fridge worthy'. Funny how a science fair project on micro mechanics could prove so useful for web shooters.

"Well you say that one day, and then the next day you slip up on a question, and then the next you're living on the street."

"That seems harsh," I chuckled. "I'm sure I'll at least pass," I said while giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I know you will, Peter," she said. "Don't take my words as a lack of faith in you. I'm proud of what a fine young man you've become. We all are." I found it strange how she used the word 'we' like that. Ever since my parents died and I moved in with her and Ben, she talked as if they were still alive, watching over me. At best it was comforting, at worst it felt like useless superstition.

"Thanks May. And thanks for this amazing dinner," I said, sitting down at the nicely set table. "You know I can cook my own meals now, there's no need for you to overwork yourself."

"It's no bother to me, dear. Besides, if I didn't cook and clean what kind of aunt would I be," she said as she joined me at the table. She said it with a little glint in her eye that was rare to see lately. There wasn't a third plate set up that day for the first time. I didn't know how to feel about that.

"You're an amazing aunt, regardless of how many toilets you clean." After laughing a bit at my lame joke, we ate our dinner in a comfortable silence. Dinner was amazing, as usual.

When I finished, I gave her my thanks, and went to my room.

"Good night May," I said as I locked my door.

"Good night Peter." She said it with a bit of disappointment in her voice. Spider-Man had started straining our relationship, but telling the truth would make things harder. Her heart would just break if she knew I was risking my life every night, she didn't understand that I needed to do this. Not to mention what would happen if someone found out about her being related to a superhero. Secret identities are meant to be only that, secret. If I let her know, I would start slipping up in hiding it with other people. I couldn't let that happen, this was too important to lose.

Laying my suit over my bed I admired my craftsmanship. It wasn't exactly high fashion, but I was proud of what I had done. The reds of the torso and boots were vibrant, and the blue I chose was almost black in the right lighting. I had worked on the spider emblem for days, it had gone through more redesigns than the web shooters. I settled with a black spider with a large thorax and long legs that thinned out near the neck and waist. Copied on the back was a red variant that looked similar to the front. The hardest part to get down was the mask, of course. Somehow I found a material that was see through one way, light, and durable. The guy that sold the plates to me totally thought I was a criminal though.

While I put on my suit I thought about what Aunt May had said about me getting a job. She was right that I had other things to focus on, but I had to help out. After everything she's done for me it would be selfish to continue living off her kindness alone. I had wanted to find a job that day, or at least set up an interview. But between the robbery and the two shootouts that happened after, I didn't have time for anything else. Time was something I began to envy about my former self. Tiredness had become the status quo, but that wasn't going to stop me anytime soon. Regardless of my own mental health, I had a job to do, and it was time for the night shift.