For that one moment, Peter was... distracted.

The pudgy man that bumped into Peter earlier, giving up Peter's hiding spot, was nervous. He mumbled an apology that Peter didn't hear because he was so distracted with Michelle.

The pudgy man nodded his head, his fingers tapped along his sides as he made his way out of the store. He kept wandering along, pace fast, sweat on his brow. This was the right thing, he tried to convince himself. The only thing.

It was only a matter of time...

Before he blew up.

Peter saw the force of the explosion blow Michelle's messy curly hair out of her face in slow motion. Then things began to glow brightly to the point where Peter couldn't see anything. He and Michelle were knocked down to the ground. The ringing in his ears knocked off his senses. He couldn't focus his hearing on anything. Muffled noises clouded his judgment until he could focus on screaming.

He lifted his upper body from the ground. Michelle was facing the store in which her family was in. Her mouth was wide- it was her scream.

Suddenly everything focused all at once.

"NO!" She screamed. "MOM! TEDDY!" Michelle picked herself off of Peter and she made a frantic dash towards the store, but the store had received the worst of the impact of the explosion. Half of it was on fire. The entrance was crumbling apart and it fell in front of Michelle. Peter was already up and he pulled her back before the rumble could fall on her.

Peter tried to weigh in on his options. He had to go in there and save the people inside- save Michelle's family. But he couldn't be Spider-Man. There was no way he could explain running off at this point to return a few minutes later as Spider-Man. Besides, he didn't even know if he had enough time to do that and rescue the people inside.

Peter warned Michelle, "I'm going in."

"Are you crazy?!" Michelle yelled and pulled on his sleeve. "You can't go in there! Don't be a stupid hero!"

If only she knew.

Peter ignored her and rushed inside, ducking away from another falling debris. He found a few customers and pointed and pushed them towards the entrance, smoke filling his lungs. The clothes on the racks were burning and his nose began to clot with insufferable air.

He found a few more people and helped direct them towards the entrance and he finally found Michelle's mother and brother. Her mother was frantically trying to lift a shelf off of her son. His leg was underneath the wreckage and he must have hit his head because he had his eyes closed, not moving... almost like a peaceful sleep.

That haunted Peter.

He stood next to Michelle's mother and got a grip of the shelf. Together, the two lifted the shelf off of Teddy and Peter held it while Michelle's mother picked up her from underneath it. Peter dropped the shelf and he began to walk with her out of the store.

Michelle met them in a sprint. She embraced them with a crushing hug. She and her mother were both breathing hard, relieved to be with each other again.

Michelle was for sure crying now. Her mother too. She let go of her death grip on her mother to look down at her little brother in her mother's arms. Seeing how still he was, and how his little leg was broken and swollen, she looked like she was going to throw up. "Is he...?" She was too terrified to even finish her sentence.

"No," her mother sighed. "Just... hurt. Got knocked down really hard, but my baby boy is... hurt."

Peter felt his eyes brim with tears. Seeing little Teddy so... so still like that. A little boy who couldn't have been older than four years old. This wasn't right.

Peter clenched his fists and glanced around, hoping to find the culprit and beat them into a pulp. He found no one but terrified people. "Come on," he softly pushed at them to move. "We should leave and get him to a hospital."

Soon, the authorities were at the mall. Both Peter and Michelle were questioned, and both of them mentioned a pudgy white man, looking awfully nervous and scampering along before the explosion. It was recorded and that was that.

Michelle's mother was being loaded up on an ambulance with her little brother. Michelle regarded her mother. Michelle held onto her sides, clearly shaken up but trying her best to compose herself as she glanced at Peter. "Peter..." She hesitated, unsure of what to say. "That was... you... thank you." Her eyebrows drew together, realizing that she had thanked him. She promptly declared, "You're insane. I hope you know that you are the most insane person I have ever met."

Peter had to admit himself that was pretty... intense for him to do without the suit to back him up. "That was insane."

"Yeah," she breathed. "I have to go with my mom. I'll see you." She raised two fingers to her forehead and flicked them away as a salute goodbye. Peter watched as she climbed up on the ambulance, joining her mother. Her mother held Teddy's small hands in her own and greeted her daughter with a sad, relieved smile.

Peter was still shaken up about the bombing incident. The police said it was a lone terrorist who had sacrificed his own life. No one was killed. Only a few injured... like Teddy.

But what bothered Peter the most was that he was there and he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it from happening. He had powers at his disposal and they were useless to stop the bombing. People could have died because of Peter.

He opened the door to his apartment, surprised to hear laughter. He could never get quite used to seeing his aunt and Tony together being casual.

"Mr. Stark..." Peter cleared his throat, honestly surprised to see him.

Tony finally glanced up to see Peter at the door, closing it behind him. "Petey! How's it hanging, kid?"
Peter wasn't sure if Tony made the pun intentionally or unintentionally, and frankly, he didn't know which answer made the pun worse. Before he could find the words to answer, May had cranked up the tv, featuring breaking news: the mall bombing.

"Oh my god," gasped May. She leaped up from the couch and made her way over to Peter in one giant step. She crushed him in a hug, then quickly inspected his body. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? Is that soot in your hair?!"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Strangely... the words didn't feel right in his mouth. No... he definitely doesn't feel okay.

Tony stood and walked up to them in a slow, calculating matter. "You were at the mall when it got bombed? No suit on?"

"I couldn't." Peter shook his head. "I was with Michelle and the guy... he... he ran into me before he blew up the place." Peter inhaled sharply. He made contact with an actual terrorist. A person who was a complete nervous wreck before he created chaos in a public setting. Why did the man do that? Why did he give his life for something he was so terrified of? Peter didn't know how he felt in that moment- sick came to mind, but it wasn't enough. "I got in there and saved the people... but I couldn't change, it was too risky. Then... I saw Teddy..."

Tony frowned. "You saw a teddy bear?" He scoffed, "Were you in Build-A-Bear Workshop?"

"No, Teddy is Michelle's little brother." Tony had interrupted Peter's train a thought and the image of the little boy not moving haunted him. "Never mind, I don't want to talk about it."

May pouted, her bottom lip puckering out. "Oh, Peter," she wrapped him in another hug, which Peter gladly embraced in. "I'm so sorry that happened, but I am glad you're okay."

"Pete, can I talk to you for a second?" Tony pushed his sunglasses to rest above his hand and placed his hands in his pant's pockets. Peter pulled away from his aunt and nodded. Tony led him back to his own room and sat on his bed. He patted the space beside him and Peter sat down. "What the hell is going on with you?"

"Mr. Stark..."

He sighed, "How many times do I have to tell you, Tony?" He shook his head, trying to remember the reason why Tony had requested to speak to him privately. "Is this too much for you right now?" Tony asked. "Do you need a break? I understand if you need a break, hell, I want a break-"

"M-Mr. Stark!" exclaimed Peter. Tony clamped his big mouth shut to listen. Peter sighed. "I just... today was different. Today, someone that I care about could have gotten hurt and a little kid got hurt instead. And I was... useless. I couldn't do anything to stop that from happening. This was different than the Washington Monument. At least then, I had my suit on and Karen was there to help me. But Tony... how do you deal with the... the repercussions?"

Tony swallowed hard. He didn't speak for a long time and hung his head low, almost as if he was ashamed. He fiddled with his big calloused hands- a skilled set of hands that had always worked hard, all of his life.

Peter waited. Thoughtfully. Patiently.

"I don't really know, kid," Tony admitted. "I say I'm fine, but I'm not. Not really. To tell you the truth... I try to hide it. I try to be me. I try to be normal, to ignore it, and distract myself. I don't know how to deal with the repercussions, but you, Peter, you can stop them from happening."

"I can't. I couldn't do anything-"

"You're Peter-freaking-Parker. You have the heart for it, kid. But that won't mean anything if you don't believe in yourself first. It gets scary. It comes close sometimes, but dammit, Peter, you're better. You're the hero that your aunt needs, your friends need, that I need- everyone."

Peter let his words sink into him. He swallowed, trying to understand what Tony had said to him. Finally, he simply said, "Okay."

"Okay? All good?" Tony gave Peter a clap on the back and squeezed his shoulder. "We all need pep talks time after time."

"So, uh, what brings you to the Queens?"

"Your Aunt May," admitted Tony. He chuckled softly. "I believe she was drinking heavily last night and butt-dialed me. She wanted to see me, that's all."

Peter stared at him. "Where were you when she called?"

"Visiting some old friends in Wakanda, why?"

"That's all the way from Africa!" gasped Peter. "You flew all the way from Africa because my aunt butt-dialed you?!"

"She seemed sad."

"Still!"

"Are you saying you wouldn't travel halfway across the world to make a woman happy?" Tony rolled his eyes and muttered, "Teenagers," under his breath, "you Millennials lost the fine art of romancing."

"Romancing?!"