20: Chapter 20 Olive Branch

"Holy shit." The sound of Flash gasping in the carriage rang out.

When the kiss finally ended, both of them were panting. A glistening thread stretched between their lips before breaking. Felicia's emerald eyes stared straight at him, her cheeks flushed as if they were burning.

"Damn."

Peter nodded: "Damn."

"You're a good kisser."

"Thanks for the compliment."

"Want to try again?"

"I'd love to."

This time, Peter took the initiative. One hand wrapped around her waist, the other running through her silver hair. Everyone in the carriage was probably watching, but he didn't care. Vanilla scent; he liked the vanilla scent.

The bus drove straight to the hospital emergency room entrance. Mr. Duncan was wheeled into the trauma room; after the glass shards were removed, it turned out his spine wasn't injured, and after a dozen stitches, his life was saved.

Afterwards, everyone was taken back to school. The school gate was crowded with parents.

As soon as the bus stopped, the crowd surged forward.

Peter was the last to get off the bus, spotting Aunt May and Uncle Ben at a glance.

"Peter!" Aunt May rushed over and hugged him tightly, her voice trembling. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? What on earth happened?"

"Aunt May, I'm fine, really. I didn't even get a scratch." Peter patted her back to comfort her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Uncle Ben stared into his eyes.

Peter nodded: "The whole class is safe. Only Mr. Duncan got hurt protecting Liz Allan, and he's already been sent to the hospital. Looks like I have bad luck with field trips."

"Peter! How can you joke at a time like this!" Aunt May was anxious.

Uncle Ben, on the contrary, laughed: "Let him joke, May. You know as well as I do that some people process their emotions this way."

Aunt May sighed and said no more: "Let's go home."

Peter looked up at the sky. A ball of fire was flying toward them.

"Wait a second, Aunt May. I need to talk to someone."

"Who?"

Before he could finish, a burning figure descended from the sky and landed in front of Peter. The flames dissipated, revealing Johnny Storm's grinning face: "Hey, glad to see you're safe."

"Thanks. How's things at the Expo? Many casualties?"

"Not many. About one or two injured by self-destructing drones. The Thing used his body to block the worst of the explosion. Sue and Reed arrived and shut down about half the drones, preventing them from all blowing up."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief: "That's good."

Johnny Storm looked behind him: "This is…"

Peter stepped aside, revealing the dumbfounded Uncle Ben and Aunt May behind him: "Johnny Storm, this is my Uncle Ben and Aunt May. Uncle Ben, Aunt May, this is Johnny Storm. He's the Human Torch from the Fantastic Four, a friend of mine."

Johnny Storm waved: "Hey Uncle Ben, Aunt May! I hear about you all the time from Peter! Come visit the Baxter Building whenever you have the chance, you're always welcome!"

Uncle Ben was stunned for a second before coming back to his senses: "Uh… okay, thank you."

Aunt May couldn't say a word.

Johnny Storm looked at Peter again: "I just came to see if you were safe. I have to go back and help clear the ruins. Do you want to—"

"I'll go help too." Peter blurted out.

Aunt May said softly: "No, Peter. That's enough for today. Leave it to the Police and the rescue teams."

Peter opened his mouth to argue, but after meeting Uncle Ben's gaze, he swallowed his words: "…Right, sorry."

Johnny Storm smiled: "See you Monday, Peter. Take care." With that, he ignited and took off, turning into a streak of fire that disappeared into the night sky.

Peter sighed and turned to leave. Just then, Aunt Anna walked over with Mary Jane.

"Anna," Aunt May forced a smile, "I'm so glad Mary Jane is okay."

"Yes, she's fine. It's all thanks to you, May, for bringing me to pick her up; otherwise, I don't know how long it would have taken to get here by bus," Anna said excitedly, "But we owe the biggest thanks to Peter. It was him who saved Mary Jane!"

Aunt May and Uncle Ben both looked at Peter.

"He saved all of us," Mary Jane said softly, "He saved everyone on the bus."

Peter shrugged: "With great power comes great responsibility."

Uncle Ben was stunned: "Peter, that's not how you use that phrase."

"No, that's exactly what you mean, and you know it," Peter looked into Uncle Ben's eyes, "I just scaled the model up proportionately."

"But how did you do it?" Aunt May asked.

"He used a gun or something!" Flash shouted from the side.

Peter glared at him fiercely. That blonde idiot.

"A gun?!" Uncle Ben's voice raised.

"Not a gun." Peter shot another glare at Flash, then pulled the EMP device out of his backpack. "This is something I made at work. It can emit an electromagnetic pulse, strong enough to fry the drones' control systems."

"Peter, why would you build something like this?" Uncle Ben pressed.

"It's simple. The last time Stark made a public appearance, he was attacked by a lunatic with electric whips. The time before that, it was a rogue mech. Hammer Industries is the company that makes the Rhino suit, so I figured the Expo would likely have problems," Peter held up the EMP gun, "so I prepared this thing in advance."

Everyone was looking at him as if he were a three-headed, six-armed monster.

"How could you possibly know there would be danger in advance?" Liz Allan asked, incredulous.

"I work for Reed Richards, okay?" Peter scoffed, "Do you really think I'm just a nerd?"

"I, for one, appreciate such foresight."

That voice sent a chill down Peter's spine.

Norman Osborn walked out of the crowd with a polite smile on his face: "Peter, you've impressed me once again. May I take a look?"

He gestured toward the EMP gun. Peter hesitated for a moment, then handed it over.

Norman Osborn examined the device in his hand, raising an eyebrow: "I have the world's top team of scientists under my employment, but I'm not sure any of them could build something this… efficient. Quite impressive, Peter."

"Tha... thank you." Peter's throat felt tight.

"Excuse me, who are you?" Uncle Ben stepped between Peter and Norman Osborn. He probably sensed his nephew's suddenly tensed back.

"Oh, my apologies. I am Norman Osborn, Harry Osborn's father," he gestured with his chin toward Harry Osborn, who was standing with his head down in the distance. "Usually, I don't get too involved in my son's school life, but… it seems I'm glad I came. Are you Mr. Ben Parker?"

Uncle Ben nodded.

"You've raised your nephew quite well, Mr. Parker. I had intended to offer him an internship at my company, but I see he probably isn't interested, am I right?"

Peter nodded reluctantly: "Sorry."

"Don't say that, how could I blame you? It's my own fault for not realizing the talent you possess sooner. Counting this time, I already owe you two favors, all because you protected my son," Norman Osborn handed over a business card, his smile gentle and impeccable, "I don't like owing favors. Call me if you need anything."

With that, he turned and left, walking over to Harry Osborn.

"Harry Osborn, it's time to go home for dinner."

"Yes, Father." Harry Osborn actually bowed slightly, then followed Norman Osborn into a black limousine.

Uncle Ben cleared his throat: "That was… quite a unique experience."

Peter tucked the business card into his pocket, his fingertips feeling a bit cold. He caught a glimpse of Felicia in the corner talking to a silver-haired woman. The woman was wearing a diamond necklace and an exquisite evening gown, her demeanor identical to Felicia's.

Felicia looked back at him, smiled slightly, waved goodbye, and followed the woman—presumably her mother—disappearing into the crowd.

By the time they got home, no one had said much along the way. Uncle Ben drove faster than usual, probably wanting to put today behind them as soon as possible.

The car pulled into the driveway. Before getting out, Mary Jane glanced at Peter. Her expression was complex; Peter didn't understand it. But she didn't say anything and turned to go back to her own house.

Peter stood on the porch and let out a breath. Today was long, very long. But it was over, and he had survived. From now on, probably no one at school would call him a scrawny freak anymore. This had its pros and cons; he would be more visible, couldn't just slip away or do weird things, and had to keep his guard up at all times.

He hoped he could be both Spider-Man and Peter Parker well.

Saturday.

After pestering Aunt May and Uncle Ben, plus using the excuse of being a disaster relief "volunteer," Peter finally got permission to go out.

He went to the Expo ruins as Spider-Man.

When he swung in on his Webbing and landed at the site, several firefighters looked up. A burly man trying to move a concrete block nodded at him: "Need some help? Kid."

"Let me try," Peter bent down, hooked his hands under the edge of the concrete, exerted force through his waist and back, and lifted the slab, which must have weighed at least a few hundred pounds, over his head. "Should be no problem."

The firefighter whistled.

Peter spent the rest of the morning busy at the site. He moved the heavy objects he could, and insulated things that were too hot or too dangerous by wrapping them in Webbing. His Webbing was non-conductive and heat-resistant, which was perfect for wrapping exposed high-voltage cables and the still-radiating remains of the Arc Reactor.

Mid-morning, the Fantastic Four arrived.

Johnny Storm dropped from the sky, Sue and Reed drove in Sue's Land Rover, and The Thing walked on his own two feet, which was significantly slower.

They immediately joined the cleanup. Sue used a force field to support the collapsed steel frames, Reed stretched his body into ropes to tie up the scattered debris, Johnny Storm was responsible for melting the welded metal structures, and The Thing just used himself as a bulldozer.

Peter worked with them naturally. No need for conversation; a single look was enough to know where help was needed. He climbed onto the ceiling debris to hang Webbing and secure loose components, while Reed stretched his body below like a bridge to catch falling rubble.

The cleanup continued until 2:00 PM. Peter's stomach growled like thunder, and the workers laughed when they heard it.

Johnny Storm flew to a nearby Chinese restaurant and packed a dozen takeout meals. A group of them sat on the open ground next to the ruins to eat. Whether they were firefighters, Police, or superheroes, no one treated anyone else like an outsider. Sitting next to The Thing eating stir-fried noodles—this was something Peter wouldn't have dared to imagine before.

"By the way, why are you called Spider-Man?" John, the head of the cleanup crew, asked while eating.

Peter thought for a moment: "I was bitten by a genetically modified spider and gained spider-like abilities. Climbing walls, shooting Webbing, stuff like that. The name just made sense."

"Then can you communicate with spiders?"

"No."

"What about you?" someone asked The Thing, "What's your name?"

"Ben."

"No, I mean your superhero name."

The Thing shrugged: "The Thing, I guess. Johnny Storm calls me that sometimes."

Everyone chatted for quite a while. Peter could feel that this disaster relief effort had significantly boosted Spider-Man's public image.

However, he still had an ulterior motive.

Every time he found something useful—a piece of drone wreckage, an undamaged Arc Reactor, a propulsion leg of unknown model—he would wait until no one was looking, bundle it up with reinforced Webbing, and quietly slide it into the sewer to hide it. The Webbing took twenty-four hours to degrade, which was enough time for him to come back and retrieve it in the middle of the night.

At night, the city lights came on. Peter waited until the dead of night to return to the Expo ruins.

The site was empty. He was just about to go down into the sewer to retrieve the goods when he caught a glimpse of a silver-haired woman standing on the opposite roof.

He recognized her.

Peter swung over, landed a few steps behind her, and deliberately made some noise.

Black Cat spun around sharply, relaxing only when she saw it was him: "Spider."

"Good evening, Black Cat," Peter leaned against an exhaust pipe and crossed his arms, "What are you doing here?"

"I was here last night." Felicia's voice was softer than usual, carrying a hint of vulnerability he hadn't seen before, "A friend and I… almost died here."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Where were you last night?" Black Cat suddenly pressed, her voice sharpening, "Aren't you a hero? Didn't you keep saying you're a hero? I'm just a petty thief, you're the big hero, right?!"

Peter didn't refute. She was angry; he understood. There was no point in arguing with this kind of anger.

"I was helping on the other side of the city at the time," he said, "By the time I heard the news and rushed over, it was already too late. I regret not being able to get there sooner."

"So you came to help clear the ruins during the day because of guilt?" Black Cat's tone was still aggressive.

"Not entirely," Peter said candidly, "I can handle the guilt. I came because I know doing this is the right thing. If someone needs help, I help. I don't have some profound reason for doing these things; I just feel like it should be done."

Black Cat fell silent.

Peter didn't rush her. He knew she still had more to say.

After a long while, she spoke again: "There was someone with me at the time."

Peter's heart skipped a beat.

Black Cat's voice grew soft, as if she were talking to herself: "I didn't really pay much attention to him before. He was an interesting guy, but that was it. But that day… he saved me. He saved all of us."

Peter coughed: "That… that's good."

"He is the real hero. Not you."

Peter was choked by this. But under the mask, he grinned.

"Is that so?" he asked, following her lead, "What kind of person is he?"

"Very kind, although he always pretends to be indifferent to everything, but I can see right through him," Black Cat smiled.

Peter thought to himself: You can't see through shit. You have no idea I'm standing right next to you.