"Snap!"
Closing the flip of his Nokia phone, Peter put it down.
The dim moonlight outside streamed through the window, casting a faint, gentle radiance across the room.
After venting to him for half an hour, Gwen on the other end of the phone had finally run out of energy and fallen asleep.
Despite being Spider-Woman, stripped of that identity, she was just an ordinary high school student.
Staring at the deepening night outside the window, Peter shook his head.
He had gained a new appreciation for this tough, talkative Spider-Woman, who occasionally revealed her vulnerable side.
...
The next morning, early.
The living room door was pushed open, and Aunt May entered carrying a brown paper bag.
The chill from outside immediately rushed in with the draft.
"Smells like chicken and mashed potatoes."
Uncle Ben was wearing his glasses and skimming the morning paper. Seeing Aunt May come in, he put the newspaper down and said to his wife, "That is the cutest thing I have ever seen."
Aunt May breathed out a puff of cold air, placed the brown bag on the kitchen counter, and walked over to give her husband a hug.
"This is dinner prepared for Peter, and you won't be getting any, Ben."
Aunt May took out the carrots already in the kitchen, mixed them with the chicken and mashed potatoes, and set to work.
Breakfast time was over, but her busywork was not.
Uncle Ben shrugged, took off his glasses, and said, "That's a shame. But our Peter really does need a warm, comforting dinner. Maybe we can take the opportunity to have a good talk with him."
Peter hadn't eaten a meal with the two of them since the night before last, and they rarely spoke to each other lately.
This left the couple deeply worried.
Thinking Peter might have run into some trouble, Uncle Ben wanted to find a chance to talk to him.
"Doesn't Peter have environmental allergies? Maybe... it's related to that. He's having a hard time adjusting to life at school, and not fitting in can make someone feel extra depressed."
Aunt May said to her husband as she diced the carrots.
"Maybe so, but keeping things bottled up is only going to make him feel worse and worse."
Uncle Ben said worriedly, "Peter looks like he's not just running away from life, he's running away from us. He won't even sit down and eat with us anymore."
Seeing her husband's expression, Aunt May put down her paring knife, walked over, and took his hand. "Maybe... Peter just needs some time. We should trust him."
"By the way, you were on the phone with George for half an hour just now. What were you guys talking about?"
She smoothly changed the subject, steering it away from Peter and onto George Stacy.
George Stacy and Uncle Ben Parker were good friends, and the two families often visited each other.
In that sense, Gwen and Peter could be considered childhood sweethearts.
"We talked about a lot of things. He has a lot of ideas and plenty of drive. George wants to set up a fund for Gwen because he's afraid he won't always be around to take care of her. He's always like that—to others he might seem indifferent to his daughter, but actually, he loves her more than anyone else."
Uncle Ben opened up, "We also talked about Peter going to college. He wants to help sponsor Peter—you know he's always liked the boy."
"But I refused."
Uncle Ben shook his head. "We can't keep burdening George."
Hearing her husband bring up Peter's college education, Aunt May's expression turned somewhat gloomy.
The couple currently lived entirely on a meager pension, and given their present financial situation, they simply couldn't afford the expenses of a college student.
Seeing his wife's expression, Uncle Ben squeezed her hand tighter to comfort her:
"We'll find a way. We can always take out a bank loan and mortgage this house. Besides, I can go drive a taxi. You know I used to be a truck driver—we even drove along Interstate 40 together on our honeymoon."
As the couple was talking, they heard footsteps on the stairs.
Peter came walking down.
"Good morning, Aunt May, Uncle Ben."
He greeted them.
May and Uncle Ben quickly composed themselves.
"Good morning, Peter."
May put the prepared bread into the oven to heat up and began making breakfast for Peter.
A few minutes later, steaming hot bread was placed on the table.
As usual, Peter picked up the bread, intending to take it to his room.
Seeing that Peter still didn't want to eat at the dinner table, Aunt May's expression fell.
"What... is this?"
Holding the plate, Peter froze.
Even after more than a decade of living through the events of Prototype in his past life—during which he figured he was fully prepared for how terrible American food could be—he still couldn't figure out what kind of bizarrely shaped and strangely smelling bread this was.
"Ahem..."
Aunt May coughed and said, "Banana bread. I saw it in a book on naturopathy. Eating potassium-rich foods is the best way to fight allergies."
Peter looked puzzled. "Anti-allergy?"
"Yes, to treat environmental allergies and help you adapt better to your surroundings. If you're feeling down, it'll help soothe you quite a bit."
Aunt May said with a hint of pride.
Uncle Ben leaned over from the side, stared at the bread, and said, "I'd like a piece, too."
"No!"
Aunt May pointed a finger and waved it in front of her husband.
"This belongs to Peter!"
"Fine."
Uncle Ben pulled back his gaze and shot Peter a helpless look. "Talk about stingy!"
On the other end, holding the "banana bread," Peter felt a stir in his heart.
He was not a cold-blooded animal incapable of feeling emotion, and naturally, he could sense Aunt May and Uncle Ben's care and affection for him.
Having always regarded himself as a transient, he suddenly felt a sense of home at that moment.
It was no longer a cold battlefield filled with Xenomorphs, but a home that could bring him warmth.
Reaching out, he gently tore off a piece of bread, popped it into his mouth, and chewed.
"How is it?"
Aunt May asked expectantly.
"Not bad. It tastes like a fruit salad mixed with avocado."
Peter walked over to the dining table, put down the banana bread, and leisurely began to taste it.
Seeing that Peter didn't take his food back to his room this time, the couple exchanged a glance, seeing the relief in each other's eyes.
Perhaps this was a good start.
The same thought flashed through both of their minds.
After finishing the banana bread, Peter casually flipped through the morning paper left on the table.
He wanted to see if there was any news about Jimmy, whom he had headshot the night before.
After skimming a few pages and finding no related reports, he instead noticed several articles about missing persons cases.
The newspaper headline was quite sensational: "Beware! The Skinning Killer Strikes!"
"The Skinning... Killer?"
Putting down the newspaper, Peter frowned.