New York — Parker House — Peter's Bedroom — Two Weeks Later — Morning
Two weeks had passed since George Stacy's death.
In his bedroom, Peter slept restlessly. His sweat-covered face reflected the violence of the nightmare tormenting him.
He was standing at the scene of the accident once again.
George Stacy stood before him.
But it wasn't really him.
His body was torn apart. His face mangled. Broken.
And yet he kept walking forward.
— Why, Peter?
His voice sounded as though it came from another world.
Distorted.
Accusing.
— Why didn't you listen to Yuri?!
George took another step forward.
— Why did you rush in headfirst thinking you knew everything?!
Peter backed away in terror.
Then the captain's face became monstrous.
— WHY DID YOU KILL ME?!
Peter fell to his knees.
Unable to answer.
Unable even to breathe properly.
The guilt crushed him.
It suffocated him.
— THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!
George's voice echoed everywhere around him.
— DO YOU HEAR ME?! YOUR FAULT!
Peter shut his eyes.
But the shouting continued.
— IF I'M DEAD... IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU!
The pressure became unbearable.
Then he suddenly woke up.
Gasping for air.
He nearly fell out of bed.
For several seconds, he remained motionless.
Panting.
Drenched in sweat.
His heart racing.
Slowly, he regained his senses.
The morning sun was already shining through the curtains.
Without saying a word, Peter headed to the bathroom.
The hot water from the shower didn't truly wash away the anxiety.
But it at least helped him regain a semblance of calm.
Once washed and dressed, he put on a jacket, grabbed his backpack and phone, and left the house.
New York — Manhattan Streets — Later — Morning
After taking a bus toward downtown, Peter got off a few stops later.
He then continued on foot toward the hospital where he planned to visit his aunt.
The streets of Manhattan were busy despite the heavy atmosphere still hanging over the city.
As he walked, a newspaper vendor suddenly caught his attention.
The man waved several newspapers above his head while shouting at the top of his lungs.
— LISTEN UP! SPIDER-MAN IS NOW THE MOST WANTED CRIMINAL IN NEW YORK!
Several pedestrians immediately turned toward him.
— IF YOU SEE HIM, CONTACT THE POLICE IMMEDIATELY!
He held up a newspaper.
— HE'S A PUBLIC MENACE! THIS COMES DIRECTLY FROM AN ORDER ISSUED BY THE NEW POLICE CAPTAIN: YURI WATANABE!
The moment those words were spoken, a crowd gathered around the vendor.
The newspapers disappeared almost instantly.
Peter remained still for a few seconds.
Then lowered his gaze.
And simply continued walking.
Without a word.
New York — New York Hospital — Rehabilitation Wing — Morning
When he arrived at the hospital, Peter immediately asked where his aunt was.
The receptionist informed him that she was in the rehabilitation wing.
He headed there at once.
At the end of the hallway, he spotted May.
She was finishing her exercises.
When she noticed him, she gave him a small wave.
Peter returned it with a faint smile.
A few minutes later, they left the hospital together.
May sat in a wheelchair while Peter gently pushed her along.
They reached the bus stop and waited side by side.
— Peter?
— Yeah, Aunt May?
— Do you know when Gwen is coming? It's been a while since we've heard from her.
Peter remained calm.
— No... but she's probably busy with Yuri and all the paperwork required for her to move in with us. I know it takes time, but don't worry. I'm sure she'll be here soon.
May gave him a warm smile.
— And what about you? Peter continued. The hospital told me a few things... but not much. How are you feeling?
May chuckled softly.
— Oh, you know... the doctors were really surprised. They thought I'd need another month, but apparently I have an unusually strong recovery and an unusually stubborn will!
She seemed genuinely amused.
— Well... I can't do everything I used to, and I can't work yet, but I can already go home with my beloved Peter. And that's already a victory. I just need to be careful, and if there's ever a problem, I only have to call them.
Peter smiled.
— Doesn't surprise me. You're a Parker, after all. Probably the strongest one in the family.
Then his tone became more serious.
— And don't worry about the house or the money. I'll handle it.
May immediately turned toward him.
— Absolutely not, Peter! I have money saved up.
Then she looked at him with her usual mix of kindness and authority.
— So you focus on your classes when they start again.
— No, Aunt May. I mean it. You've always taken care of me. It's my turn now.
May studied his face for a few moments.
After everything that had happened, she understood that he needed to feel useful.
Eventually, she gave in.
— Fine... alright.
However, she raised a finger.
— But I'll keep paying for everything that needs paying, and you'll help me with the other responsibilities. And that's non-negotiable.
Peter let out a resigned sigh.
— Fine... alright.
They both burst out laughing.
A few moments later, the bus finally arrived.
They climbed aboard.
Then got off at their usual stop.
Very close to their house.
New York — Queens — In Front of the Parker House — Morning
As soon as they got off the bus, Peter and May arrived in front of their house.
Just as Peter was pulling out his keys to unlock the door, the sound of an engine caught their attention. Both of them turned around.
A moving truck had just parked right in front of the house.
The passenger door opened.
Gwen Stacy stepped out with a faint smile.
— Hey, you two.
— Hey Gw—
— Gwen, sweetheart!
Peter didn't even have time to finish his sentence.
Delighted to see her, May immediately opened her arms.
Gwen leaned down and returned the hug.
For a few moments, Peter simply watched them.
Then he pointed toward the truck.
— Are those your things in there?
— Yep! Peter, would you mind helping me unload them?
— Of course.
He then turned toward May.
— But you should take Aunt May inside. I'll handle the boxes with the mover.
— Alright, thanks.
While Gwen helped May into the house, Peter joined the mover.
The two of them began unloading the boxes.
There were about ten of them.
They carried everything upstairs.
Gwen's new room was right next to Peter's.
The room was fairly spacious.
A bed had already been set up against the wall, along with a small table that would serve as a desk.
Once the last box was placed inside, Peter and the mover headed back downstairs.
— There you go. Everything's in place. Have a good day.
— Thanks, you too.
— Thanks for your help! Gwen added.
— Thank you, and drive safely! May chimed in.
The mover smiled at them, climbed back into his truck, and drove away.
Peter closed the door behind him.
— Well... now all that's left is unpacking your stuff.
— Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it. You've already helped me enough.
May immediately raised her hand enthusiastically.
— What if we had a little movie marathon?
— Oh yes, I'm tota—
— I'll pass... sorry.
Gwen stopped mid-sentence.
Peter had spoken calmly.
Without any energy.
He lowered his eyes slightly.
— I'm just... tired.
The brief disappointment that crossed May's face vanished almost immediately.
She gave him an understanding smile.
— Of course. Get some rest, sweetheart.
— Thanks, Aunt May.
Without saying anything else, Peter headed upstairs.
New York — Parker House — Peter's Bedroom — Morning
He entered his room and fell backward onto his bed.
The mattress creaked softly beneath his weight.
He pulled out his phone.
Social media was still in complete turmoil.
Article after article.
Video after video.
Debate after debate.
Spider-Man was everywhere.
Some people accused him of being a criminal.
Others continued defending him.
But everyone was asking the same question.
Where had he gone?
Peter sighed.
Then placed his phone beside him.
His eyes drifted toward the ceiling.
A few moments later, a soft knock sounded at the door.
It opened.
— Peter...?
— I didn't say you could come in.
— Yeah, very funny.
Gwen closed the door behind her.
Then walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
— Are you okay?
— Yeah... and you?
— Yeah...
Silence settled between them.
A heavy silence.
Eventually, Gwen spoke.
— You know... everyone in the city is wondering where you've gone. They want to know if the spider is ever going to swing over New York again.
Peter looked away slightly.
— And they're also wondering if I'm going to kill someone else.
— Peter...
He suddenly sat up.
His eyes met Gwen's.
— No, Gwen! It's the truth! It's my fault! Because of me, your father is—
The words died in his throat.
He lowered his gaze.
— Sorry...
Then he immediately lay back down.
Turning his back to her.
His face buried in his pillow.
Gwen watched him for a few seconds.
Then spoke in a calm voice.
— Peter, be honest with me. Is all of this... because of Uncle Ben? Does my father's death remind you of your uncle's death and make you believe that, once again, all of this is your fault?
Peter didn't answer.
But his fingers tightened around the bedsheet.
Gwen noticed immediately.
She understood.
So she slowly moved closer.
Then wrapped her arms around him.
— It's not your fault, Peter. Not my father's and not your uncle's. Since the very beginning, you've been doing things nobody else would do. You've saved so many lives. So no matter what people say, it's not the truth.
She gently tightened her embrace.
— And just so you know, I'll always be here for you. If my father were here, he'd probably yell at you to get back up and keep fighting. Just like you've always done. Just like Spider-Man does.
Peter remained silent.
Then he squeezed her hand.
Tightly.
— And if you think I blame you for his death... I don't.
She paused briefly.
Then gave him a smile filled with tenderness.
— You're my hero, Peter. And I love you.
She kissed his cheek.
Then gently ran her hand through his hair.
Little by little, the tension inside him seemed to ease.
Peter closed his eyes.
A painful emotion still tightened his throat.
But for the first time in a long while, he felt a little less alone.
— Thank you... thank you, Gwen.
He pulled her tightly into his arms.
And Gwen did exactly the same.
New York — Parker House — One Week Later (December 24th, Night)
One week later, on the night of December 24th, the Parker house was filled with a warm and cozy atmosphere.
Peter, Gwen, and Aunt May were sitting together on the living room couch, wrapped beneath the same blanket. Outside the windows, gentle snowflakes drifted down over the neighborhood.
All three had their eyes fixed on the television.
The final countdown before midnight had begun.
May wore a huge smile.
— Are you kids ready?!
— Yeah! Peter answered enthusiastically.
— Christmas is the best holiday ever! Gwen added.
The numbers appeared on the screen.
All three recited them together.
— 10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Their faces immediately lit up with smiles.
Laughter filled the room.
Then, little by little, calm returned.
May turned toward Gwen.
Her voice softened.
— Gwen, sweetheart... I'm so happy you're with us this Christmas. These past few months have been terrible, and I want you to know that you're part of this family. We love you.
Peter immediately nodded.
— Yeah... we love you, Gwen.
Touched, Gwen felt her eyes begin to water.
She pulled both of them into a hug.
Tears briefly appeared at the corners of her eyes.
She quickly wiped them away before smiling again.
— No crying on Christmas! Come on, presents! Peter, help me out!
They got up and walked over to the six gifts waiting beneath the Christmas tree.
As he gathered the presents in his arms, Peter couldn't help but remember a conversation he had shared with Gwen a week earlier.
Her words echoed through his mind.
— And if you think I blame you for his death... I don't. You're my hero, Peter. And I love you.
A genuine smile spread across his face.
— Thank you, Gwen. Thank you for everything. And just so you know, we'll always be here for you too. I'll always be here for you.
Later that night, Peter lay in bed.
He tossed and turned.
Unable to sleep.
His mind replayed recent events over and over.
Christmas night.
That strange feeling of peace returning.
And Gwen.
A soft knock sounded at his door.
— Peter? Are you asleep?
His eyes immediately opened.
— Gwen?
He got up and opened the door.
Standing there was Gwen.
She wore an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts.
In her arms rested a large, carefully wrapped box.
— So... can I come in?
— Oh, uh... yeah. Sorry.
She stepped inside while he closed the door behind her and turned on the light.
— Everything okay? Why are you here this late?
His eyes dropped toward the box.
— And... what's that?
A mysterious smile appeared on Gwen's face.
— It's for you!
Peter blinked.
— Huh? But... you already gave me a present.
He looked completely confused.
— Why are you giving it to me now?
— Because... it's a gift for Peter Parker... but also for Spider-Man.
Peter immediately understood.
His eyes widened.
— No... wait, are you serious?
— Fair warning: I made it with my own style! I hope you'll like it!
She handed him the box.
But Peter remained frozen.
Still in shock.
— Is it... really what I think it is?
— Yep!
— Like... really?!
— Peter... open it.
Excited but still unable to believe it, he tore through the wrapping paper.
Then he opened the box.
Inside was a brand-new Spider-Man suit.
Peter remained speechless for several seconds.
— I... it's amazing! Thank you, Gwen!
Overwhelmed with emotion, he wrapped his arms around her.
Then a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
He pulled back slightly.
— Wait... is that why you wanted my measurements and my old suit? You were secretly making this?!
— Congratulations, Sherlock!
She smiled, completely caught.
Peter shook his head, still stunned.
— I can't believe it...! How long have you been planning this?
— Since the day I saw you struggling to repair your old suit. I figured that eventually it would become unusable. So I got ahead of it. Okay, it was way more complicated than simple sewing, but...
She looked up at him.
Her gaze soft and affectionate.
— What wouldn't I do for you...?
Their eyes met.
For a long moment.
Intensely.
Peter felt his heart begin to race.
Everything she had done for him.
Everything she had been through.
Everything they had been through together.
He gently placed his hand over hers.
They slowly moved closer.
Then their lips met.
They kissed.
Without rushing.
Without hesitation.
Just sincerely.
Then they lay side by side on the bed.
Curled up against one another.
In a gentle and comforting embrace.
Their love had reached a new stage.
Without passion overwhelming them.
Without urgency.
Simply two broken souls continuing to heal together.
In almost perfect unison, they whispered the same words.
— I love you.
— I love you.
New York — Parker House — Early January — Morning
At the beginning of January, Peter was sleeping soundly in his room.
The past few days had been exhausting.
For the first time in a long while, he was enjoying truly restorative sleep.
At least until a familiar voice shattered his peace.
— Peter! Wake up, hurry!
Peter groaned into his pillow.
— Huh...? What? Why are you waking me up? I'm exhausted...
— Suit yourself. Go back to sleep.
Peter heard Gwen step away from his bed.
— Too bad if you miss the first day back. And don't worry about Aunt May, I've already taken care of everything for her.
Then the door closed.
— Yeah, yeah... whatever...
Silence returned.
One second.
Two seconds.
Then realization hit him like a truck.
— ...Wait.
Peter shot upright.
— THE FIRST DAY BACK?! THAT'S TODAY?!
He jumped out of bed as if a bomb had exploded beneath him.
— She left! I can't believe her!
He sprinted through the hallway.
Moments later, he was already in the bathroom.
Toothbrush.
Water.
Clothes.
Everything was done at an absurd speed.
But despite all his efforts, he already knew.
There was no way he'd make it to school on time.
— No way I'm being late! Not this time!
His eyes suddenly landed on a box sitting in his room.
Gwen's gift.
His new suit.
For a few seconds, time itself seemed to slow down.
Memories flooded his mind.
The disasters.
The fights.
The injuries.
The enemies.
The losses.
Every hardship he had endured since the day he became Spider-Man.
Then other memories followed.
Harry.
May.
Gwen.
Every life he had saved.
Every person he had helped.
Everyone who was still alive because of him.
Peter took a deep breath.
Then he pulled himself out of his thoughts.
He had to make a choice.
His eyes remained fixed on the suit.
A confident smile slowly appeared on his face.
Without another moment of hesitation, he grabbed the box.
A few minutes later, he was wearing his new suit.
He adjusted his web-shooters.
Picked up his backpack.
Then leaped out the window.
Outside, light snowflakes continued to fall over New York.
The morning sun gently illuminated the city.
Peter launched himself forward.
New York — Above Manhattan — Spider-Man in Flight — Morning
High above Manhattan, Spider-Man was already soaring through the sky.
His new suit immediately stood out.
The costume featured a predominantly red design.
At the center of his chest was a large blue spider outlined in black.
The lower half of the suit was black.
His arms were decorated with blue stripes matching the emblem.
And most importantly, beneath his arms, new red-and-blue web wings now allowed him to glide.
Carried by these new web wings, Spider-Man cut through the air at incredible speed.
Down in the streets, pedestrians looked up toward the sky.
Some stopped in their tracks.
— Hey! Look! It's Spider-Man! He's back!
— Wait... didn't his suit change?
— He's a threat to all of us! Are you idiots or what?! He's a criminal!
Spider-Man continued on his way without slowing down.
Then something caught his attention.
Several police cars were pursuing a vehicle speeding recklessly through the streets.
The driver was fleeing while dangerously weaving between cars and pedestrians.
Peter watched the scene.
Then his eyes hardened.
— No matter what awaits me... I'll keep helping people.
He slightly folded his web wings.
His body tilted forward.
He dove.
Buildings rushed past him at incredible speed.
Webs shot from his web-shooters.
— It's my power. My responsibility!
He accelerated even further.
Then vanished between the skyscrapers.
Oscorp — Norman Osborn's Office — Post-Credit Scene — Day
Inside his massive office at the top of a luxurious glass tower, Norman Osborn worked calmly at his computer.
His fingers danced across the keyboard.
A knock echoed at the door.
— Come in.
A man entered the room.
— He's here, sir.
— Good. Send him in.
— Understood.
The man left the office.
A few seconds later, another visitor entered.
His hair was white.
His face marked by age.
He wore a spotless white lab coat.
Norman immediately stood up.
The two men shook hands.
— A white coat, huh?
— I'm a scientist. A real one. I never take it off. It's part of who I am.
A slight smile appeared on Norman's face.
— At least that proves you're not a fraud.
He invited him to sit before returning behind his desk.
Miles Warren looked around the office curiously.
— I have to admit, I'm puzzled. You paid me a fortune to come here immediately. So go ahead, I'm listening. What exactly do you want from me?
— I'll get straight to the point.
Norman typed several commands on his keyboard.
Then turned the monitor toward his guest.
Several videos of Spider-Man appeared.
Footage filmed all across New York.
— You know him, I assume? You could say he's... popular.
Miles Warren simply nodded.
Still unsure where Norman was going with this.
— I want you to clone this man. I want an army of super-soldiers with the same powers as him.
Warren abruptly stood up.
Shocked.
— How do you know about my experiments with...?!
He immediately cut himself off.
The confident look on Norman's face had already given him the answer.
A smile slowly spread across Osborn's face.
There was no longer any need to pretend.
After a few seconds, Warren sat back down.
His expression had changed.
He now seemed intrigued.
And interested.
— You're insane. Maybe even more insane than I am.
His smile became unsettling.
— But... I like it.
He folded his hands together.
— After all, it's the madmen who push the limits of imagination. And since my goal is to create something unique through DNA and cloning... I suppose our objectives align.
He leaned slightly forward.
— As long as you pay me and provide all the equipment I need... I'm at your service.
He extended his hand.
Norman Osborn smiled as well.
— Perfect. You'll have everything you need.
He shook the scientist's hand.
— Then welcome, Professor Warren. I hope our partnership takes us far. Very far.
Their hands remained clasped for a few moments.
An agreement had been made.
An agreement whose consequences might surpass anything either of them could imagine.
TO BE CONTINUED.