After 1 week

Timeline: April 29, 1990

It's been a week since I broke free from that icy prison, and every day feels like a reminder of the 38 years I lost. As I try to adjust to this new reality, sadness weighs heavy on my heart.

Mary's gentle voice brought me back from my thoughts. I looked at her and felt comforted by the warmth in her eyes. They were like pools of honey, holding both worry and care. It felt like she was wrapping me in a hug with just her gaze.

"Hey, Michael," she said softly. Her words were like a soft melody. It felt nice to hear her voice, like a warm blanket on a cold day.

As Mary reached out to touch my face, I felt a tingle run through me. Her touch was gentle, like a soft breeze on my skin. It made me relax and forget about everything else for a moment.

"I'm okay, Mary, really," I reassured her, trying to sound convincing. But deep down, I knew she could see through me. She always could.

"I'm heading to school now, Michael. You be careful, alright?" she said, her voice filled with warmth and concern.

I nodded, watching her go with a mix of emotions. I wished I could tell her everything, but some things were too heavy to burden her with.

Before she left, I held her hand tightly, not wanting to let go. "Tell Mark I'll be at school tomorrow," I said, my voice sounding a bit sad. It was hard to let her go, knowing she brought comfort on me just by being around.

With a final hug that lasted a bit longer than usual, Mary headed out the door. Watching her disappear down the hallway, I felt a bit sad. Being alone in my room, the weight of my thoughts pressed down on me like a heavy burden.

Thinking about my father, who sat quietly in the living room at 90 years old, I couldn't shake the urge to visit my mother's grave. Her death on July 2, 1978, still weighed heavily on my heart. unaware that her son was alive and well.

I couldn't shake off the guilt eating away at me, the voice in my head blaming me for what happened. If only I hadn't become Spider-Man, if only I had waited for Peter to grow up into the role himself, perhaps none of this mess would've happened. But now, I couldn't find the courage to continue as Spider-Man. It was too risky, too dangerous.

Tomorrow, I would return to school, going by the name Michael Wilson, but it's a whole different me. It's hard to explain, but it's like I'm living a new life.

My dad had set up this plan to preserve my identity as Michael Wilson, while the world believed the original Michael Wilson to be dead. It had to be this way because I'd been stuck in ice for 38 years. Remembering those years made me feel really sad and hurt.

My dad quietly opened my bedroom door and came in. He looked at me with sad eyes and asked, "Michael, wanna go see Mom?" His voice sounded tired but caring, like he really wanted to be there for me.

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. tears starting to well up in my eyes.

We walked to the car together. The engine started up with a familiar sound. We didn't say much as we drove to the cemetery. Each mile reminded me of good and bad times.

At the cemetery, it was quiet. We found Mom's grave. It had her name and the dates she was born and died. I felt a lot of things standing there, I felt a mix of feelings. Guilt for being away from her all those years. and I wished I could go back in time. But most of all, the love for the mother who brought me into this world.

Placing her favorite red chrysanthemums on her grave felt like a small gesture, but it was important to me. Mom always loved those flowers. As I set them down, a gentle breeze rustled through the trees, almost like a comforting embrace.

Dad stood beside me, silent but supportive. We both took a moment to remember her, each lost in our own thoughts.

Standing there in silence, I quietly asked for forgiveness for all the times I let her down. Even though I knew she couldn't hear me anymore, but it felt like she was still with me, offering comfort when I needed it most.

And as I stood there, lost in my thoughts and memories, my father's question caught me off guard. I turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. He seemed worried as he looked at me, wanting to know what I was thinking.

"Michael, are you really, really sure you don't want to be Spider-Man anymore?" he asked, sounding gentle but also a little worried.

I looked at him, realizing how serious his question was. He wasn't just asking casually; he really cared about me and wanted to know what was best for me. He understood that I was in pain.

"Dad..." I started, trying to find the words to explain how much I was hurting. My mind was filled with memories of my time as Spider-Man—both the good and the bad. There were moments of victory and moments of sadness, times when I felt like a hero and times when my heart was heavy with sorrow.

Part of me really wanted to go back to being Spider-Man, to wear the mask again and swing around the city, saving people. But another part of me was scared. I couldn't forget the mistakes I made before, and I knew being Spider-Man meant risking my love ones again.

My father listened quietly, his expression a mixture of understanding and empathy. He knew better than anyone the struggles I had faced, the burdens I had carried, and the scars I bore both inside and out.

"I know you worry about me, Dad," I finally admitted, my voice tinged with uncertainty. "Being Spider-Man... it's complicated. There are risks, there are sacrifices... and there's always the fear of what might happen if I make the wrong choice."

My dad put his hand on my shoulder, making me feel more calm. "Michael, being a hero isn't always easy. But sometimes, the tough decisions are the ones that matter most. Remember, in this world, there's no such thing as always winning. Sometimes, you need to experience losses to grow."

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My dad's words sank in deeper as he continued, "Those wrong choices you make can make you stronger in the future. That's why you shouldn't let fear hold you back, Michael. Face your challenges, learn from them, and keep moving forward."

"Just like you always remind me," my dad said, a hint of pride in his voice as he looked at me.

"Yeah," I responded, feeling a sense of agreement wash over me. "With great power comes great responsibility," I added, my voice filled with both acknowledgment and a hint of sadness.

...

After saying our final goodbye to Mom, we walked away from her grave, leaving the peacefulness of the cemetery behind us. As we made our way back to the car, the heaviness of everything we'd experienced lingered in the atmosphere. Walking alongside my dad,. Being with my dad brought me comfort. Despite the sorrow of our trip, there was a sense of closeness between us, tied to the memories we shared.

...

As we drove home, the sun was shining brightly, over the bustling streets of New York City. Even though it was still early, the streets were busy with people going about their day.

Suddenly, our drive was disturbed by a loud screech and a crashing sound, like a metal colliding. My dad skillfully pulled the car to the side of the road, and we both looked to see what had caused the commotion. Despite being 90 years old, my dad still possessed surprising strength thanks to a serum boost he received back then.

Emerging from the chaos was a figure that sent a chill down our spines: A man he looks like Mister Sinister from the Marvel comics yeah maybe it is him. Even though it was sunny, his appearance seemed to darken the day, sending shivers down our spines. His ominous presence was so strong that we could feel it from far away.

"Sinister's returned," he declared, his voice cutting through the noise of the accident with a chilling clarity. His words felt like a cold shiver running down my spine, spreading an ominous feeling in the air.

"After SHIELD and Wolverine forced me into retreat, I swore vengeance," Mister Sinister's voice echoed through the streets, his words carrying a promise of retribution that sent a shiver down my spine.

As the commotion unfolded, the people on the streets reacted with a mixture of fear and confusion. Some pedestrians froze in their tracks, their eyes wide with shock as they watched Mister Sinister's menacing figure emerge from the wreckage. Others started yelling for help, getting louder and louder.

"Help! Someone, please help!" cried out a woman clutching her child tightly to her chest, her desperate pleas echoing through the street.

As chaos erupted, everyone noticed something missing: —the reassuring presence of S.H.I.E.L.D and the vigilante heroes who often swooped in to save the day.

"Where's S.H.I.E.L.D? Where are the heroes?" muttered a man, his voice filled with frustration and fear as he looked around for help.

Then my dad looked at me, he said, "Michael, it's time for you to decide. Do you want to go back to being Spider-Man and save the city, or do you want to stay as regular Michael Wilson?"

As my dad talked, I felt really mixed up. Part of me wanted to be Spider-Man again because it makes me who I'am. But on the other hand, the memory of past mistakes and the fear of putting my loved ones in harm's way made me hesitate. "

I thought hard about my choices. Being Spider-Man was a big deal. It meant it could put my family and friends in danger. But it also meant I could help people, stop bad guys, and make things better for everyone.

Suddenly, I remembered what my Uncle Chris used to say: "Spider-Man never gives up, even when things get tough."

With newfound determination, I looked into my father's eyes, a strong resolve burning within me. "I won't let fear rule my decisions anymore," I stated firmly, my voice unwavering. "I may not have all the answers, but I'll do whatever it takes to protect this city, to stand up for what's right." Then, with a deep breath, I added, "Because I am Spider-Man."

With people panicking and not noticing me, I swiftly ducked into a nearby hiding spot and quietly whispered, "Hero on."

....

Meanwhile

As 10 years old Peter Parker stood scared, he saw danger all around him. He desperately needed someone to help, but there was no one like S.H.I.E.L.D or other heroes nearby. Everything was chaotic and scary. He felt like he was going to lose hope as the bad man's power destroyed the building and things fell towards him.

"Spider-Man, please save us!" Peter thought desperately, his heart pounding in fear as he waited for help, hoping against hope that someone would come to their rescue.

As Peter closed his eyes, ready to face what seemed like his end, he felt a sudden gust of wind and strong arms embracing him, pulling him away from danger. When he opened his eyes again, he couldn't believe what he saw. He was being held by someone wearing a black suit, with bright blue eyes, and a dark blue spider symbol on their chest.

"Spider-Man!!!" Peter cried out, tears running down his cheeks in relief. He couldn't believe his eyes as he looked up at the legendary hero who had disappeared from the city 38 years ago. Seeing Spider-Man, his childhood idol, standing there amidst all the chaos, filled Peter with a deep sense of thankfulness and admiration.

When the people saw Spider-Man in his classic black suit with blue eyes and a dark blue spider symbol, they couldn't believe their eyes. They gasped in amazement and whispered in shock as they realized it was the legendary hero who had vanished 38 years ago. The sight of him sparked a mix of awe and disbelief among the onlookers, who couldn't believe they were witnessing his sudden return after so many years.

Some people couldn't believe what they were seeing. They blinked, trying to make sense of it. Others just stared, their faces showing how amazed and hopeful they were to see their hero again after so long.

"Is that... Spider-Man?"

"No way, it can't be! He's been gone for decades!"

"I thought he was just a legend... but look, he's real!"

"It's him... Spider-Man!"

"After all these years... he's back!"

"I never thought I'd see the day... Spider-Man, our hero!"

People who saw Spider-Man couldn't hold back their tears. They were so moved because they realized their city had its greatest hero back again.

"Stay there, Peter," Spider-Man commanded, his voice firm yet reassuring as he gently set Peter down.

"How did you know my name?" Peter Parker asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and wonder.

"I just know," Spider-Man replied mysteriously, his tone suggesting there's more to it than meets the eye, as he refocused on the chaos around them.

Peter's thoughts raced as he tried to understand Spider-Man's mysterious answer. Then, he remembered something his Uncle Ben had told him: Spider-Man knew everyone's names in town even he remembers Uncle Ben.

Before Peter could think more about what he remembered, Spider-Man interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. "Now, go, kid. I'll take care of this," Spider-Man said, his words giving Peter a sense of confidence he hadn't felt before.

With a nod of understanding, Peter obeyed, his steps guided by trust in the hero before him. As he hurried away from the scene.

"Who are you? You can't be Spider-Man. I thought he was just a made-up story, a myth, a legend," Mister Sinister said, sounding shocked and a bit scared as he looked at the person standing in front of him. "And anyway, Spider-Man vanished 38 years ago."

Michael Wilson, feeling determined and with a clear purpose, stood tall and looked directly at Mister Sinister. "Well, if I'm not Spider-Man, then who am I?" he replied confidently, his voice steady and sure. Then, without hesitation, he said, "I am Spider-Man."

To be continued

The End of Book 2 Part 1