NO!

Ben had recently been grappling with a profound wave of frustration—not specifically aimed at his nephew, Peter, but rather at the increasingly troubling situation Peter found himself in. Ben empathized deeply with the reasons behind Peter's attempts to distance himself from the harsh and unrelenting reality unraveling around them. Yet, despite his understanding, Ben couldn't suppress his mounting frustration and he wished that Peter would step up and offer the much-needed support to Mary Jane Watson. After all, despite the chaotic circumstances, she was still a vulnerable kid.

Ben sank heavily into his worn-out couch, his exhausted eyes locked onto the flickering television screen. The news anchor's somber voice filled the room as she reported gravely, "Yesterday, the once-celebrated billionaire philanthropists Thomas Wayne and Martha Wayne were tragically gunned down in the crime-ridden streets of Gotham. The city is reeling from this shocking loss, and the world anxiously awaits any official statement from Bruce Wayne, the sole heir to the vast Wayne fortune. This devastating incident has cast an even darker shadow over Gotham City, which once stood as a beacon of prosperity but is now rapidly descending into a lawless haven for criminals. It appears that these ruthless gangs have now set their sights on the neighboring metropolis of New York. Many concerned citizens are feeling increasingly hopeless, and officials…"

Suddenly, a loud crash from Peter's room. Ben sprang to his feet, his heart pounding with concern. He hurried to the door, flung it open, and found Peter sprawled on the floor, looking up with a guilty expression.

"What on earth are you doing, Peter?" Ben demanded, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and concern.

"Nothing, just… just checking for something," Peter stammered, clearly struggling to come up with a plausible excuse.

Ben sighed deeply, his frustration mounting as he observed Peter's awkward attempt to conceal whatever he was doing. "Peter, we need to talk. Meet me in the car; we're going for a drive." Without waiting for a response, Ben turned and walked away, leaving Peter to gather himself.

Peter slowly attempted to push himself off the ground, but his hands felt as if they were glued to the floor, trembling with nervousness. He heard Ben's voice calling from the hallway, "Peter, hurry up!" Taking a deep breath, Peter forced himself to calm down and finally managed to stand. As he reached the door, he found Ben waiting with an unreadable expression. Peter quickly put on his shoes and tugged at the laces, only for them to snap under the pressure.

Peter looked up at Ben, his nerves on full display. "I guess the shoes have gotten too old," Peter muttered, trying to mask his embarrassment with a feeble excuse, though he was taken aback by the sudden snap of the laces.

"We can probably get you a new pair," Ben replied, his voice calm but edged.

In the car, the atmosphere was thick with tension as they sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Five, maybe ten minutes passed before Ben finally broke the heavy silence. "We've hardly talked in the past few months," he said, his voice laden with a mix of sadness and disappointment.

"Yeah," Peter responded, his voice barely audible, offering only a single word as the weight of the unspoken words hung heavily between them.

"I want to make sure you're okay," Ben added softly.

"I am okay," Peter replied, his tone dismissive.

"That's good," Ben said, trying to offer reassurance. However, Peter remained unusually quiet, lost in his own thoughts on his new strength. He fidgeted with a few coins in his pocket, nervously bending them with his thumb and index finger. When they arrived at the store, Peter selected a pair of shoes similar to his old ones—the ones he used for basketball. After their shopping was done, they left the market, but Ben noticed a man following them.

As they got into the car, Ben started speaking again. "Peter, I know you're nervous and worried about the future and feel lost, but we can help you—you just have to try."

Peter didn't want to hear more; it was easier if he heard nothing at all. "With great power comes great responsibility," Ben added, trying to reach out.

"I think I'm going to walk home," Peter said abruptly. After saying that, Peter closed the door and began walking away.

Ben was about to stay in the car, but he realized he couldn't just do nothing for another nine months. He got out of the car, and just then, a man in a mask approached and pressed a gun against Ben's stomach.

"Hand everything over, old man," the robber demanded.

Ben reached into his pocket and handed over his wallet. Suddenly, a voice shouted, "Hands up!" The robber panicked and fired a shot. In response, an officer, who had been undercover, fired and shot the robber.