Albedo's home had taken on a hush of quiet exhaustion, the kind of weariness that seeped into every corner after months of relentless conflict. Sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating a living area now strewn with signs of an impromptu stay: half-unpacked bags, a scattering of Mary Jane's personal items, spare clothes for Aunt May, and some of Peter's worldly possessions that he'd managed to salvage. In a sense, the place felt alive—like a sudden family gathering—but the mood was far from celebratory. Everyone here was trying to pick up the pieces of a life shattered by the aftermath of the Civil War, one that had pitted hero against hero, culminating in heartbreak and too many casualties to count.
Albedo emerged from the hallway, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and comfortable slacks, glancing around the living area with a weary sigh. He had agreed—without hesitation—to host Peter, Mary Jane, and Aunt May until they got back on their feet. But he had not realized how much emotional baggage would accompany them. They had arrived with fear in their eyes, haunted by the death threats, the lawsuits, and the betrayals that had defined the closing days of the Civil War. Now, a few days after the dust had settled, the bleak reality of their new life had begun to sink in.
Peter sat on the couch in a rumpled T-shirt, staring blankly at a sheaf of papers piled on the coffee table: letters from old friends who had disowned him, a stack of unpaid bills, and a thick packet of legal documents from J. Jonah Jameson's legal team. Mary Jane stood in the kitchen area, quietly sipping coffee, her face etched with concern. Aunt May rested in a recliner by the window, a warm blanket draped over her knees—a necessity ever since the bullet wound and the subsequent healing-chamber procedure that had saved her life. Though her physical condition had stabilized, she still tired easily, and the stress around her nephew only worsened her frailty.
Albedo cleared his throat gently. "You all right, Peter?" he asked, stepping closer to the couch. It was a loaded question. Of course Peter wasn't all right. He had lost so much—his anonymity, his job, even some of his dearest friends—and the precariousness of his life was laid bare in every line of his posture.
Peter didn't look up at first. He fiddled with a letter sealed with a bright red "Final Notice," jaw clenched. "I'm… I don't know," he admitted, voice taut. "I can't stop thinking about how everything went downhill so fast. One minute I was working at the Bugle, balancing hero work, somewhat normal. The next minute, my identity is out, Aunt May's shot, we're getting death threats, and… Jameson is suing me for defamation, breach of contract, I don't even know what else. Half these papers I don't understand."
Mary Jane walked over, setting her mug on the kitchen counter. "He claims you defrauded him by working under an alias. Says you lied to him for years." Her voice wavered, a mixture of anger and heartbreak. "As if you were the only one in the world who's ever tried to keep a secret. Never mind he's the one who built an entire empire out of smearing Spider-Man."
Albedo's features hardened. "Jameson's always had it out for you. Now that the Civil War ended in such a messy stalemate, he's got the perfect ammunition." He settled onto the edge of the couch. "But we can't let him crush you, Peter. I know it feels overwhelming, but you're not alone."
Peter gave a small, bitter laugh. "Yeah, well, I don't see how we're stopping him or these threats. The police won't lift a finger unless a costumed villain physically breaks in and tries to murder us. And given how we ended up on Tony's bad side, we can't rely on official hero channels, either. My job? Gone. My reputation? Shot. Even the people who used to support Spider-Man are calling me a traitor. Some blame me for Goliath's death, some for Aunt May's shooting—I can't even keep track of the rumors anymore." His voice cracked. "And it's my fault MJ and Aunt May have to suffer through this. I was the one who unmasked."
Aunt May stirred in her recliner. "Peter," she said, voice soft but firm, "no one forced Tony to reveal your identity to the entire world. That was on him. And if those so-called friends turned their backs on you just because you were honest about who you are, then maybe they weren't your friends at all."
Peter smiled weakly, but tears threatened at the corners of his eyes. "Thanks, May. But there's no getting around the fallout. I can't get a job because they see 'wanted hero' or 'fugitive' or 'liability.' I can't even walk down the street without someone throwing an insult or a threat."
Mary Jane reached for his hand, pressing it gently. "We'll get through this. You're not alone."
Albedo rose, crossing to the coffee maker to refill Mary Jane's cup, only to realize it was empty of grounds. He sighed, rummaging for more. "I'm sorry my place isn't exactly fortress-like. But I do have decent security. I've reconfigured some advanced tech, so we'll know if any suspicious characters come snooping around. You all can stay as long as you need to."
Peter gave him a grateful look, though overshadowed by sorrow. "Thanks, Albedo. I hate burdening you—"
"It's not a burden," Albedo cut in, firm. "You saved my existence more than once, remember? The meltdown, that entire fiasco with Vilgax… we're well beyond counting favors."
Aunt May offered a reassuring nod. "He's right, Peter. We're family now, in a sense."
The words hung in the air, briefly warming the gloom. But reality quickly intruded again. Peter's phone buzzed. He picked it up, read a text, and his face paled. "Another threat," he muttered. "This one from some disgruntled new vigilante claiming I betrayed the hero cause, calling me a 'coward who fled Tony's side.' Good Lord, do they think I wanted to be on Tony's side in the first place? People forget he blackmailed me with my identity."
Mary Jane squeezed his arm. "Ignore them. They're just bullies trying to feed on your fear."
Albedo frowned. "Maybe we can talk to Theresa. She's a mid-level S.H.I.E.L.D. contact I used to know—she might help. But Tony's parted ways with a lot of the usual chain of command. Hard to say if anyone's left who's friendly to us."
Peter set his jaw, flipping through the legal documents. "I appreciate that, but… it feels like an avalanche. Even if one set of threats stops, another crops up. If we can't find a normal life again, we're basically living in your place forever, or going underground. And I can't keep Aunt May hidden away; she deserves better."
The hours passed much like that, a cycle of discussing problems with no immediate solutions. Albedo tried to lighten the mood, offering to cook lunch. Mary Jane joined him in the kitchen, rummaging for ingredients. Aunt May dozed, exhausted by emotional strain, while Peter tinkered with the stack of lawsuit papers, half reading, half wallowing in frustration. By midafternoon, the atmosphere had grown thick with unresolved tension.
The day dragged on until evening. Peter snapped at Mary Jane over some trivial matter—where she put the mail—and immediately apologized, guilt-ridden. She brushed it off, but the stress weighed on them. Aunt May tried to calm him, reminding him to keep perspective, but that only made him feel worse for losing control. Albedo hovered, offering logical solutions or attempts at comfort, but Peter's anxiety escalated until he finally stood and stormed to the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Aunt May sighed, looking apologetically at Albedo. "This war… it broke so much in him. He's lost faith in the system and, I fear, in himself."
Mary Jane wiped a stray tear. "I'll go talk to him later, once he cools down. I'm sorry if we're bringing chaos, Albedo."
Albedo shook his head. "We're family, like you said. We'll get through it." But he shared their worry. If Peter continued to spiral, who knew what rash choices he might make next.
After dinner—an uneasy affair—Aunt May retired to bed early, Mary Jane soon after. Albedo lingered in the living room, scanning security feeds on a tablet. Satisfied that no suspicious activity loomed outside, he decided to get some rest as well. The day had been emotionally draining, with no sign of resolution.
Sometime past midnight, a silent alert flashed on Albedo's tablet, placed on the coffee table. He jerked awake from a doze, heart thudding. The motion sensors along the perimeter had tripped. At the same moment, a faint scraping sound drifted from the hallway. Albedo rose, adrenaline spiking, quietly moving to the corridor that led to the home's entrance. He tapped a small button on his wrist, alerting the rest of the house to potential intrusion. In a few heartbeats, Peter appeared from the hallway, pulling on a shirt, Mary Jane behind him, eyes wide. Aunt May, woken by the silent alarm, hovered anxiously at her bedroom door.
Albedo motioned for silence. The infiltration was subtle—whoever it was had bypassed the normal door sensors. They heard a faint click near the back door. Peter tensed, ready to engage. Mary Jane gently guided Aunt May back to the bedroom for safety. Albedo crept to the side of the living room, fists clenched. He half-expected a masked assassin, maybe a hired gun from Kingpin or one of the many enemies Peter had racked up.
The back door swung open softly. A slender figure slipped in, scanning the darkness with practiced caution. Before Albedo could launch an attack, the figure whispered, "Peter Parker? Albedo? I come in peace."
Albedo blinked, exchanging a confused look with Peter. That voice was female, calm, and not immediately hostile. The figure stepped into the light, revealing a woman in her late twenties, chestnut hair pulled back, wearing a dark S.H.I.E.L.D.-style bodysuit. She carried no visible weapons, but her posture was that of someone well-trained.
"Who are you?" Peter demanded, though his voice was hoarse. "This is private property."
The woman raised her hands, stepping forward. "I know. Apologies for the stealth entry, but I had to confirm no one else was listening. My name is Theresa Parker." She paused to let it sink in.
Peter's eyes widened, confusion warring with disbelief. "Parker? That's… Are you claiming we're related?" The notion defied logic—he'd never heard of a Theresa Parker in the family tree.
Theresa nodded, reaching into a small pouch. Albedo tensed, but she merely produced a slim wallet containing documents and a few battered photos. "I have evidence, though it's… complicated. I'm your sister, Peter. Younger by a couple of years. I was raised outside the country, believed dead under mysterious circumstances." Her voice wavered, clearly acknowledging how insane it all sounded. "It's a long story, but I have the intel to back it up. And yes, I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D. In fact, I'm the new acting deputy director, post-Civil War upheaval."
Aunt May, lured by the conversation, peeked out, her face pale with surprise. "Sister? Theresa Parker?" she murmured. "I… never heard of such a child from Ben or anyone— Are you sure?" But something in Aunt May's tone said she also didn't entirely disbelieve it. Stranger things had happened.
Theresa took a gentle step forward, offering May a small stack of photos. "I discovered my birth records in S.H.I.E.L.D. files. They were sealed. It ties back to your deceased brother, Richard Parker, and Mary Parker. The details are hush-hush, something about a deep-cover operation. After they died, or were believed dead, I was shuffled away for my safety. Now, with the leadership vacuum in S.H.I.E.L.D., I rose in the ranks quickly because… well, it's complicated. But I promise, Aunt May, I can show you the official files. The DNA tests, everything."
Peter pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. "This… is insane. Another Parker? Why now?"
Theresa offered a wry half-smile. "Civil War disrupted S.H.I.E.L.D. People like Maria Hill stepped aside, Tony's directorial attempts floundered, so it fell to me to restore order. And in the process, I accessed sealed archives about my own origins. I learned you were my brother, Peter." She swallowed. "And I learned about your predicament—the threats, the lawsuits, the possible criminal charges. I wanted to help."
Albedo, still in a defensive stance, slowly lowered his guard. She sounded earnest, and her infiltration, while abrupt, didn't appear malicious. "All right," he said carefully. "You say you're deputy director. Why come in secret?"
Theresa's gaze flicked to the windows. "Because plenty within S.H.I.E.L.D. still hold Tony or other factions in high regard. Many resent that you defied them. This needed to be off the record for now. I want to protect you, to offer a formal pardon for your unregistered hero activities, and for Albedo's involvement in hacking S.H.I.E.L.D. systems. Also, to shut down the lawsuits and the threats that are building up. Officially, with me in charge of certain departments, I can override them. At least for a while."
Peter stared, heart pounding. "You have that kind of power?"
She nodded. "That's the thing about the post-Civil War environment. After Tony's fiasco with the Thor clone, losing public trust, and Reed's controversies, S.H.I.E.L.D. leadership reshuffled at multiple levels. I stepped into the vacuum. Not everyone's happy, but I hold enough sway to enact certain immunities." She produced a tablet from her belt, offering it to Peter. "Here's your formal pardon, co-signed by key S.H.I.E.L.D. officers. And an official statement to cease legal proceedings from any entity that tries to sue you for acting as Spider-Man. If they proceed, they'll face federal jurisdiction complications."
Albedo, mouth slightly open, shared a glance with Aunt May. The older woman eased forward, eyes filling with tears. "Theresa… If all this is true, if you really are a Parker… I… We missed so much of your life."
Theresa smiled sadly. "And I missed yours. I have a lot to catch up on. But first, let's ensure you all are safe. Peter, no more running from lawsuits or law enforcement. You can rebuild. You can… find peace. That's what I want for my family."
Peter rubbed his eyes, overwhelmed. "This is… everything I needed. I can't even express how grateful— But why? Why risk your position at S.H.I.E.L.D. to help us?"
She reached out, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Because you're my brother, and I believe in what you stand for. I read the files—how you fought to protect Aunt May, your refusal to let petty laws overshadow saving lives. That's heroic, not criminal. I want S.H.I.E.L.D. to be about real heroism again, not petty politics."
Mary Jane, tears brimming, murmured, "Thank you. We've been living under constant fear. A break from all that… it's unbelievable."
Theresa nodded. "It won't solve everything overnight. There are still plenty of enemies out there. Kingpin, for one, is rumored to be gunning for all of you, especially after the fiasco with Aunt May's shooting. But at least legally, you're covered. No more Tony-led arrests. No more Jameson lawsuits."
Peter processed the words, a shaky smile forming. "Theresa Parker… I never thought I'd have a sister. But if this is real, I… I want to know everything. Thank you for stepping up."
Aunt May's eyes glistened. "Richard and Mary would be so proud to see you both stand together."
Theresa smiled gently, then turned to Albedo. "You, too, are officially pardoned, courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D. for your hacking and so-called vigilante infractions. We can't speak for Tony's personal grudges, but he can't legally arrest or sue you anymore. I made sure of that. The official stance is that your heroic actions in the negative zone prison infiltration were justified by higher moral imperative. The public mostly sides with you after seeing that fiasco with 'Thor.'"
Albedo exhaled, tension draining from his posture. "That's… more than I expected. Thank you, Theresa. I didn't anticipate S.H.I.E.L.D. stepping in to protect me."
She shrugged. "I want to fix the damage Tony left behind. This is a start."
The mood in the room lightened considerably, the weight of looming legal battles lifted. Aunt May tentatively approached Theresa, tears slipping down her cheeks, and said, "My dear, can I… can I give you a hug? If you truly are who you say you are, then you are as much a Parker as Peter."
Theresa's own eyes shone with unshed tears. "Of course," she whispered. They embraced warmly, the older woman and the younger agent bridging a lifetime of separation. Peter watched, struggling to keep from breaking down himself. Mary Jane pressed a hand to her mouth, tearful yet smiling.
In the midst of this emotional reunion, Albedo's senses prickled. A subtle alarm from his upgraded security net pinged in his earpiece. He glanced at the display on his phone, eyes narrowing. "We might have company," he said quietly, stepping to the window. At the perimeter fence, a motion sensor had tripped. Then another. Theresa noticed his shift in demeanor and tensed.
Peter looked up, concern lacing his voice. "Who is it this time? Another assassin? I can't catch a break."
Albedo pulled up the feed. The camera showed a figure in a dark suit, gliding stealthily over walls with a well-known silhouette. "The Prowler," Albedo muttered, recalling the distinctive shape of that costume. "He's a mid-tier villain, sometimes an antihero, but rumor has it he's done work for Kingpin."
Theresa's face hardened. "If he's here, it's likely to target Peter. The Kingpin's vendetta is no secret. It'd be the perfect time, given your vulnerability."
Aunt May paled, stepping closer to Peter. Mary Jane's arm went around her protectively. Albedo made a snap decision: if the Prowler was outside, it was best to intercept him quickly before he got too close to the house. "Stay here," Albedo instructed quietly. "Theresa, can you keep them safe if he breaks in?"
She gave a confident nod, unsheathing a small S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue sidearm. "I have field training. I can hold him off if he somehow slips past you. Peter, you might want to stay with your family for the moment."
Peter's brow knitted. "I can't let you face him alone, Albedo. I can help."
Albedo gave a wry half-smile. "Under normal circumstances, I'd say yes. But you've got family here who needs your protection. If Prowler's not alone, or if he's a diversion, I need you to be the second line of defense. Let me handle him outside."
Peter hesitated, but Mary Jane gently touched his shoulder. Aunt May gave him a pleading glance. "Please, Peter. We've had enough close calls."
Peter relented with a grim nod. "All right, but if you need backup, call."
Albedo nodded, hurriedly donning his black-and-white vigilante suit and the Proto-Tool Mark II on his forearm. Theresa discreetly crouched near the hallway, weapon at the ready, scanning windows. Aunt May and Mary Jane hovered close, hearts pounding with worry. Peter joined them, tension radiating from his every pore.
Moving with a practiced stealth, Albedo slipped out a side door. The cool night air prickled against his exposed skin, but he pressed on, the Ultimatrix thrumming under his suit sleeve. He navigated the yard's perimeter, following the beep of the motion sensors until he found a vantage point behind a hedgerow. The distant streetlights cast long shadows across the lawn. He caught a glimpse of the Prowler's silhouette: a masked figure with gauntlets that glowed faintly in the dark, scanning for vulnerabilities in the home's security.
Albedo tapped the Ultimatrix dial just enough to prime a partial transformation. Maybe Big Chill for intangibility or Diamondhead for raw power—he'd decide in a split second. He crept closer, mindful of the Prowler's advanced senses. The villain turned, scanning the yard. Then he hopped effortlessly onto a fence, perching like a cat ready to pounce. Albedo stepped out from behind the hedgerow, baton at the ready.
"Nice night for trespassing," Albedo remarked, voice low. "You lost?"
The Prowler's gaze snapped to Albedo. "I could ask you the same, hero," he sneered from behind a stylized mask. "But I'm not here to chat. I have business with Parker. Figure you might step aside if you know what's good for you."
Albedo's eyes narrowed. "You're on my property, threatening my guests, and you expect me to let that slide?"
Prowler's gloved hand flexed, producing a small energy blade that crackled with purple sparks. "I'm hired to finish what others couldn't—snuff out Parker's family, maybe you too if you get in my way. Kingpin doesn't pay for half measures." He leapt down from the fence, landing lightly on the grass. "So step aside, or I do this the hard way."
Albedo inhaled slowly. "Kingpin's grasping at straws if he sent you alone."
Prowler let out a low chuckle. "Alone? I do my best work solo. Let's see if you measure up, vigilante." He lunged, blade flashing. Albedo pivoted, activating the baton's stun setting. Sparks clashed mid-air as blade met baton, a brief wash of purple and blue energy. Prowler's agility was impressive, flipping backward to avoid Albedo's follow-up strike. Albedo pressed the advantage, unleashing a short-range energy pulse from the Proto-Tool that forced Prowler to duck behind a sculpted hedge.
"Not bad," Prowler muttered, eyes scanning for an opening. He fired a small dart from his gauntlet, which whizzed near Albedo's shoulder. Albedo deflected it with a flick of his baton, but the dart exploded in a puff of knockout gas. Albedo coughed, forced to scramble away before the gas overcame him. Prowler used that distraction to close in, striking with a gauntlet that crackled with more purple sparks. Albedo braced, letting the Ultimatrix flare as Diamondhead. In a swirl of red, his body transformed into crystalline plating, neutralizing the shock of Prowler's gauntlet. The impact still forced Diamondhead back a few steps, but the damage was minimal.
Diamondhead retaliated, forming a spike from his arm. "You're persistent, but this ends now." He launched a barrage of crystal shards that pinned Prowler's cloak to the fence. The villain grunted, struggling to free himself as Diamondhead charged forward. Prowler managed to tear away from the pinned cloak, rolling to the side, but Diamondhead anticipated it. He slammed a crystal fist into Prowler's midriff, sending the masked thug sprawling onto the grass.
A gasp escaped Prowler's lips as he landed. Diamondhead advanced, towering over him. "Give me one reason not to hand you to the authorities right now," Albedo growled, voice resonating with Diamondhead's rumble.
Prowler glared through his visor. "I'm just doing a job. Kingpin pays well. You're the ones messing in his business."
Diamondhead glowered, raising a fist. "Then you can explain that to your new cellmates." He pressed the baton's stun charge into Prowler's chest. The villain jerked, limbs spasming, before going limp. Diamondhead carefully canceled the form, reverting to normal. He checked Prowler's vitals—unconscious but stable. Perfect.
He dragged the inert figure to the side door, mindful of potential watchers. Theresa opened it, peering out with her sidearm drawn. Peter and Mary Jane hovered behind, anxious. Aunt May stayed in the living room, worried but trusting Albedo's skill. Albedo nudged Prowler's unconscious form across the threshold. Theresa stepped aside, letting Albedo deposit him unceremoniously on the floor.
"Prowler," Albedo muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Hired by Kingpin to kill you, Peter. Good thing he wasn't up to the task." He shot Peter a concerned glance. "We need to turn him over to someone we can trust."
Theresa holstered her weapon. "Let me handle that," she said, voice clipped with authority. "As deputy director of S.H.I.E.L.D., I can take him into custody. A few loyal agents remain in my circle. We'll ensure Kingpin's involvement is exposed. Maybe we can clip his wings for a bit."
Peter nodded slowly. "Please do. I'd rather see him behind bars than have to worry about another assassin next week."
Theresa grabbed a small communicator from her belt, contacting a S.H.I.E.L.D. retrieval team she trusted. She kept the conversation coded, presumably to avoid tipping off factions that might still be loyal to Tony or compromised by Kingpin. Albedo admired her competence; she had the decisive air of someone used to operating under tight constraints.
While they waited, Mary Jane fetched rope to secure Prowler more thoroughly, though he was out cold. Aunt May peeked around the corner, eyes wide at the unconscious villain on the floor. She gave a shaky sigh of relief that Albedo had handled it swiftly and that no one else was hurt. Peter moved to her side, gently guiding her back to a chair, reassuring her that all was fine.
Soon, a discreet S.H.I.E.L.D. van pulled up to the back gate, two agents in unmarked uniforms stepping out. Theresa greeted them quietly, handing Prowler over, giving instructions for high-security transport and interrogation. The agents nodded, respectful of their new superior, and hauled the limp villain into the van. Within minutes, the vehicle disappeared into the night, leaving Albedo's property calm once more.
After that short storm of chaos, the group gathered in the living room. Mary Jane brewed a fresh pot of tea to steady everyone's nerves. Aunt May settled in the recliner, weak from the excitement. Peter paced the floor, tension still radiating, though tempered by Theresa's presence and the knowledge that the immediate threat was gone.
Albedo stepped closer to Theresa, arms folded. "You're sure you can keep him locked up without Tony or someone else overriding you?"
Theresa nodded confidently. "As of now, my S.H.I.E.L.D. clearance trumps Tony's local authority. He stepped down from a directorial role after the fiasco with the Thor clone, though he still wields influence. But legally, I hold more clout. Prowler's not going anywhere unless I say so."
Aunt May, from her chair, mustered a warm smile. "Thank you, dear. You might have saved us from another tragedy tonight."
Theresa returned the smile, eyes shining with genuine warmth. "I'm just glad I found you in time. I… I didn't know if you'd accept me, Aunt May, or if you'd be suspicious."
Aunt May waved a frail hand. "We've learned not to push away family, especially after all we've endured. If you truly are Peter's sister—well, we have plenty of time to learn each other's stories."
Theresa bowed her head slightly. "I'd like that."
Peter joined them, standing next to Mary Jane, who handed him a steaming mug of tea. He eyed Theresa with a curious mix of wonder and relief. "So… we have a sister. I can't even process it all. But for the first time in a long time, it feels like we have a little hope." He glanced at Albedo. "And maybe… maybe I can breathe again, now that we're not criminals on the run."
Albedo smiled. "Finally, a silver lining."
Peter sipped the tea, exhaling. "Still, this fight isn't over. Kingpin, old enemies, all the uncertainties of post-Civil War tensions—there's a lot to handle. But at least we've got a shot at rebuilding."
Mary Jane squeezed his arm gently, nodding in agreement. Aunt May let out a small, tired chuckle. "One day at a time. That's how we'll do it."
Theresa's phone vibrated. She checked a message, then looked up. "They have Prowler secured. He's being questioned. Hopefully we can trace the Kingpin's contract. Meanwhile, you and Albedo are both free from legal persecution. That means you can operate more openly—within reason, of course."
Albedo inclined his head. "That's a relief. We might need that freedom soon enough if more criminals come knocking."
Peter drained the last of his tea, setting the mug aside. "In fact, I think… maybe it's time for me to suit up again." He caught Mary Jane's gaze, noticing the hint of concern. "I won't rush off into danger, but I can't keep hiding forever. If Kingpin and others are after us, I'd rather meet them on my terms. Enough of letting them pick the battlefield."
Albedo nodded, a spark of determination lighting his eyes. "And if you need backup, you know I'm in."
Theresa gave a small, approving smile. "Just be careful. Officially, S.H.I.E.L.D. can't endorse vigilante actions, but off the record, I'll do what I can to keep you out of trouble."
Aunt May studied them both. "Well, be mindful not to overdo it, Peter. But if it's truly what you need to regain your sense of purpose, then… I trust you."
Mary Jane's worry flashed across her face, but she forced a supportive nod. "All right. I guess we'll settle in for the night, and tomorrow we figure out the next step. Maybe even find you a new job or some alternative, now that Jameson's lawsuit is dissolved or soon to be."
Peter gave her a grateful look. "Yeah… guess I'd better freshen up the résumé." He turned to Albedo. "We owe you so much. Let me know if there's anything I can do in return."
Albedo shook his head. "Having you all safe is enough. But… maybe you can help me keep watch in case Kingpin tries something else. That's all I ask."
Peter smirked. "Deal. I'm your friendly neighborhood caretaker for a while."
The tension in the room lifted, replaced by an unspoken acceptance that they'd weather the storms together. Albedo grabbed the spare set of black-and-red gear he wore for nighttime patrols, exchanging a nod with Peter, who rummaged for his newly re-stitched Spider-Man suit. The chapter of cowering in fear was ending; they were ready to face threats head-on again.
Theresa watched them, arms folded, a small smile gracing her features. "I'll be in touch. And if you need me… well, you know how to contact me. Meanwhile, I'll handle the Prowler situation. Let's hope it puts a dent in Kingpin's operations."
Peter extended a hand. "Theresa… thanks. Sister. I… want to keep talking about our parents. About everything. But for now, thank you."
She gripped his hand in a firm clasp, eyes misty. "Absolutely, brother. I'm not going anywhere."
Aunt May approached, leaning on her cane. "Be safe, all of you. This old heart can't take much more stress."
Mary Jane slipped an arm around Aunt May's waist. "I'll stay with her, keep watch. You two do what you must."
Albedo and Peter exchanged a final glance. Then they headed for the door, stepping into the cool night. The stars above offered a faint glimmer of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest times, light remained. As they walked side by side, Albedo in his black-and-white vigilante suit, Peter adjusting his mask, a weight lifted off them both. For the first time since the Civil War ended, they felt the stirrings of a new beginning. They had each other's backs, and if fate demanded further battles, they would answer together, determined not to let the aftermath of the war define them. And so, they vanished into the darkness, ready to meet whatever challenge arose next.