"Hey, Aunt May."
Ben spotted May from a distance, standing under a streetlamp, huddled close to its small circle of light.
"Ben?" May's voice was a mix of surprise and relief as she called out. Her graying hair seemed to droop as the tension left her. She hurried towards him, her wrinkled hand reaching out to grasp his wrist.
To keep this family afloat and raise the two boys, she and Ben Parker had endured countless hardships.
Aunt May wasn't highly educated. For years, she could only find back-breaking work like washing dishes, for a pitifully small salary. But she never once complained.
"What are you doing here?"
'Because I was worried, of course,' Ben thought.
For Spider-Men across most universes, certain web-lined events were as unavoidable as fate. Sometimes, you prevented one, only for others to trigger in its place.
Ben feared that stopping Uncle Ben's death might put Aunt May in danger instead. That's why he'd specifically reminded Peter after school not to forget to pick May up. But even then, he couldn't shake the unease.
It seemed he was right to worry, because Peter had still forgotten.
The thought irritated him, but not wanting to worry Aunt May, he said, "Peter went to Oscorp to see that Dr. Connors. He didn't have time, so he asked me to come get you."
Aunt May's heart sank when she heard Dr. Connors' name. She knew very well the doctor had been close to Peter's parents. It was likely Peter was trying to learn more about them.
Ever since Peter found that old briefcase belonging to his parents in the storage unit, he'd become obsessed. This couldn't help but sting a little for the gentle, sensitive woman who had raised him as her own.
She had always considered both Ben and Peter her real sons. But Peter's behavior lately worried her.
Maybe the boys didn't feel the same way.
Maybe...
More importantly, after Peter's parents left their young son in their care all those years ago, they had vanished without a trace. She and Ben had tried going to the police, but there were never any leads. They were clearly caught up in something terrible, something she and Ben were powerless against.
Because of this, May feared Peter digging too deep, stepping into danger from which they couldn't save him.
"Don't worry, May," Ben said, putting an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. "Peter's just... captivated. It's the first real lead he's had on his parents in years."
Aunt May nodded, her eyes red. Her rough hand held Ben's tightly, as if letting go would mean her boys would fly away and disappear forever.
She desperately wanted to ask Ben if he, too, longed to find his birth parents like Peter did.
But she didn't dare.
She knew that if a child wanted to return to their real parents, it was only natural. She had no right to stop Ben, just as she had no right to stop Peter from investigating his parents' past.
But if that day ever came, if she were to lose either Ben or Peter, she didn't know if she could bear it.
Fortunately, Ben squeezed her hand firmly in return. "Let's get home, Aunt May. I'm starving!"
Under the cover of night, Ben and Aunt May walked home side-by-side.
When they arrived, Uncle Ben was already waiting anxiously by the door. Seeing Ben and May approach together, he hurried over to them.
"Ben? May?" His expression was clearly surprised; he'd obviously expected Peter, not Ben, to be bringing May home.
"Where's Peter?" he asked.
"Peter went to see Dr. Connors, so he asked me to pick up Aunt May," Ben repeated the same story he'd told May.
But Uncle Ben wasn't as easy to fool as Aunt May.
He gave Ben a complicated look. He'd clearly sensed Ben was covering for Peter. In the end, however, he didn't call him out on the lie, nor did he scold Ben for it. Instead, he felt a sense of pride.
Lying was wrong, but he understood. Ben was doing it for his family.
His two boys had always been mature for their age, but Ben was different from Peter. He was far more responsible. Often, Uncle Ben felt Ben's arrival in their lives was a gift.
"Thank you, son," he said.
"It's nothing. It's what I should do," Ben replied. "You can leave stuff like this to me from now on. I'm always free."
"I'd like that, but you left too early this morning," Uncle Ben said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. He clapped a heavy hand on Ben's shoulder. "Alright, you take May inside. I'll wait here for Peter."
"It's late. Come wait inside," Ben said, grabbing Uncle Ben's arm to pull him inside.
But Ben placed his other hand over Ben's. His voice was gentle, but his eyes were firm. "No, no. I'll wait right here."
With his current strength, Ben could have pulled Uncle Ben inside with his pinky finger. But holding his uncle's arm felt like trying to move a mountain.
He knew Uncle Ben wanted to stay outside to have a serious talk with Peter. He also knew that in that conversation, Peter—fresh with new powers and obsessed with his parents—would speak in anger and hurt both Uncle Ben and Aunt May.
It was this very argument that would cause Peter to storm out, leading Uncle Ben to search for him and be shot by the carjacker. Even though Ben had already dealt with Dennis Carradine, he still couldn't feel at ease.
No Dennis Carradine, but there could still be a Flint Marko...
He wanted to stop this conversation, to solve this crisis preemptively like he had with the carjacker.
But this wasn't as simple as taking out one man.
In the end, he could only nod and walk into the house with Aunt May.
Compared to Ben, May seemed even more worried. She clearly sensed what was coming.
"It'll be okay," Ben whispered to comfort her. "I think we should go prepare some food in the kitchen. I have a feeling those two will be hungry after all the... talking."
Aunt May chuckled at that. "No, you and Peter would never argue with us. Never."
She said it with conviction, but her feet very honestly carried her towards the kitchen.
Ben watched her thin back and nodded seriously. "You're right, Aunt May, we wouldn't. And if Peter dares to, I'll make sure he regrets it!"
"No fighting," May said, opening the refrigerator. "What would you like to eat tonight?"
"How about something simple?" Ben sat down at the kitchen table. "Fried chicken or a pork chop? I'm so hungry I could eat a whole pig!"
Ben wasn't joking.
Because of the Omnitrix, he, like Peter, had gained spider-powers. But these abilities weren't fully formed from the start; they were steadily growing stronger. Clearly, Ben's powers were still in a rapid development phase.
This physical transformation was far more intense than anything puberty had thrown at him, and it demanded massive food intake to fuel it until his powers stabilized.
Transforming into alien heroes, on the other hand, didn't consume much of his personal energy.
That drain came from the Omnitrix itself.
Just then, a sound came from the front door.
Peter was home.
/-\
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