"I'm sure it's hard for you to imagine life without Silk. But you will get through it." Old Peter responded with a smile, "Being a hero is an important responsibility. But now I have a greater responsibility." He turned to Mayday, "Compared with being a father, Spider-Man's identity is not that important."
Peter snorted, "Believe me, giving up Silk is not as difficult as you think." Mary Jane and Mayday just smiled, but Old Peter narrowed his eyes, a little doubtful.
Peter cleared his throat. "Anyway, what I really can't figure out is that Mary Jane and I actually came together."
Mary·Jian smiled, "What? Who do you think you will marry?"
Peter shrugged. "Felicia."
Mary Jane opened her eyes wide in surprise, and Old Peter also choked. "Are you dating Felicia?!" he asked in disbelief.
"Once." Peter sighed, "We broke up."
"Why?"
"She got her father out of prison and became a fugitive on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s blacklist. Obviously she can't be with me..." Peter muttered, "Forget it, I don't want to talk about this."
"Okay." Mayday stood up, "I don't know what you are like, but today is weird enough. First, the father from another world appeared, laughed at my friends, then scolded Avengers, and now he has entered my house."
Peter snorted, "Come on, those fakes don't deserve to be called Avengers. They are too reckless."
"You're right." Old Peter smiled, "Those kids have no idea what they are doing."
"Ah! I am surrounded by preaching people!" Mayday walked towards the stairs, "I fell asleep."
Peter blinked. "So fast?"
"I have to be quiet for a while!" She walked upstairs without looking back.
Peter smiled and turned to Old Peter and Mary Jane: "Bet five dollars that she will sneak out in uniform later."
Old Peter shook his head. "Probably so. So it's you who is fighting Dragon Emperor today?"
Peter nodded. "Yes... Mayday and I had the situation under control, but then those revengeful idiots rushed in and everything was messed up."
"I can understand your anger. So what are you going to do next? Wait until you are ejected and go home?"
Peter shrugged. "That's the plan. I don't have anything else to do."
Old Peter nodded. "Yes, I understand."
They chatted until late at night, and Peter talked about his life. To be honest, he was very excited. This was Peter·Parker, the real one. He finally met his idol, his hero. In order to leave a good impression on him, Peter said everything he wanted to say.
"So Fury recruited you?" Old Peter asked in surprise, "Tsk, I really didn't expect that."
"You're telling me? One night, bang! He just showed up. I stared at that guy, and he was muttering something like Avengers."
Mary·Jian nodded. "However, it is amazing to be trained by Black Widow."
Peter shrugged. "Fury doesn't want me to go out into the wild without training. He probably thinks it's safer to keep me under his nose than to let me run wild in the wild."
Old Peter smiled, "I wish I had this opportunity back then. It's hard to imagine how much you learned."
Peter leaned back. "Yeah, I guess... but in the end, it's not worth it."
Old Peter and Mary Jane looked at him. Old Peter cleared his throat and asked, "What happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"I've had that look on my face too many times." Old Peter explained, "That's the look when I'm ready to give up. Judging from what you just said... you've given up, right? You're not Spider-Man anymore."
Peter snorted, "I knew I couldn't hide it from you... Yes, I gave up. I am no longer Spider-Man. That's why I didn't bring my uniform and transmitter."
"What about the helmet?" Mary·Jian asked.
Peter took out the red tablet and unfolded it into a helmet. "A prototype. I was originally making equipment for superheroes for other heroes to use. I just had it with me at the time and happened to have it when I was sucked in. It was purely a coincidence."
"Then why did you help Mayday?" Old Peter asked.
Peter looked at him. "Otherwise? Let my daughter die?"
Mary·Jian and Old Peter were silent for a while. They looked at each other, and Mary·Jian winked at Old Peter.
Old Peter sighed, "Listen to me...Peter. I have been in your situation. I understand how you feel. But avoiding problems will never solve anything."
Peter narrowed his eyes. "Do you really understand? Did you almost die when you were sixteen? Have you ever lied on the ground and watched a madman standing in front of you - and he wanted to kill you, even easier than stepping on a bug?"
Old Peter was silent. Then he stood up, pulled up his trouser legs, revealing a metal prosthetic leg. "Yes, Peter. I have experienced it. More times than I can count."
"Then why should I do the same thing?" Peter asked him, "If you were me, what would you do? What if you lose the reason to wear the mask? What if you lose the will to fight?"
Mary Jane looked at him and smiled, "That's a good question."
Peter opened his eyes wide. "What?"
"If you lose your will to fight, find it again. Trust me, Peter. If you are anything like my husband, you will not be knocked down by a near-death experience and lose your will to fight." She smiled, "You will always find a way out. You always have, my dear."
Peter blushed. "Old Peter, I think your wife is teasing me."
Old Peter smiled, "Don't be too proud, kid. She is mine. Find one by yourself."
Mary Jane rolled her eyes. "You two are exactly the same."
Peter smiled, and the smile slowly faded. He sighed, "I... I just can't do it. I always told myself that I fought to protect others. But then Doctor Doom almost killed me. I couldn't stand seeing the uniform. I just couldn't do it."
Old Peter nodded. "I understand, Peter. Come on, I will show you where you live."
Peter followed him and said good night to Mary Jane.
Old Peter led him to the attic. Fortunately, the place was still neat and tidy even though no one was living there.
The two chatted for a while. Old Peter was very curious about Peter's life. Finally, he said good night and closed the attic door.
Peter sat on the bed and looked around. Several sealed boxes were piled neatly in the corner. An old computer and a set of chemical equipment were placed on a table. They looked like... things he would use. No, it was not him. It was Peter·Parker.
He walked to the table and looked at the instruments. There were traces of chemicals on the walls of each piece of glassware, with different colors. This must be the place where Old Peter made Silk liquid. Strange, it all looked... so complicated.
Then, he noticed a box under the table. It was unmarked. Unlike other boxes in the attic, this one was locked. Fortunately, Peter's ability to manipulate metal made him a master at picking locks.
He dragged the box out, grabbed the lock, felt the structure of the metal parts inside the lock, and used his power to twist it gently, and the lock popped open.
He opened the lid of the box and found a red and blue uniform inside. It was so familiar that it made people palpitate.
He picked up the uniform and looked at it under the night light of the attic. The uniform was very old and full of traces of sewing. The person who sewed it was obviously very knowledgeable. The stitches and the spider web patterns went in the same direction, making the stitches a part of the uniform.
After taking out the uniform, he found that there were two metal wristbands and various gadgets underneath. These were his equipment. Peter bent down and picked up the mask from the bottom. The classic red hood, paired with sharp glass eyepieces, was both serious and charming.
"As expected of me, I found something I shouldn't have found so quickly."
Peter turned his head. Old Peter leaned against the wall, smiling and holding the quilt under his arm.
"I am you, strictly speaking, this is mine too." Peter replied.
"I thought you said you would never touch that uniform again." Old Peter smiled and put the quilt on the bed, "Here, I guess you will need this."
"Thanks." Peter put the uniform back into the box, closed the lid, and kicked it back under the table, "Sorry."
"If you want to use it, just use it." Old Peter shrugged, "I won't wear it anyway, Mayday has his own uniform. I don't mind. These clothes should be worn in the first place, not hidden like some embarrassing secret."
Peter sat on the bed. "Why... why did you quit?" he asked.
Old Peter looked at him for a while, sighed, and sat down next to him. "Mayday told me that there is no Green Goblin in your world, right?"
Peter nodded. "Yes. But... I have just started. I have been Spider-Man for only about a year."
"Then you might meet him in the future." Old Peter sighed, "He was... he was my biggest enemy. He was a genius, but he pretended to be a fool so that you would underestimate him. Then he would blow your head open when you weren't prepared. He... he was a monster."
"Did you kill him?" Peter asked.
Old Peter looked at him. "Yes."
Peter looked down at the box. "So you gave up Spider-Man because of guilt?"
"No, no. The guilt settled long ago. Spider-Man was once my responsibility... but then I encountered greater responsibilities. When the risks outweigh the benefits, some things are just not worth continuing."
"What new responsibilities?" Peter asked.
Old Peter smiled and walked away, "Be a parent. But for you, you are responsible for the power you have. That uniform has special meaning to people, not just yourself. Think about it. See you tomorrow, Peter." He closed the door.
Maybe his body is broken, but Peter can see that there is still that light in his eyes - that light that once drove him to jump around and save lives. Until now, it is still there.
Is this the difference between the real Peter·Parker and me? A person who never gives up, and a cheap knockoff?
Maybe. But, he is not worthy of inheriting this title in the first place, is he?
That night, Peter's sleep was haunted by the words of Old Peter: "Anything that is broken can be fixed."
The strange thing is that Charles·Xavier once said almost exactly the same words to him.