His words landed softly, a warm counterpoint to the cold anxiety I'd been carrying. Trying counts. It wasn't some grand solution, not a magic bullet to fix balancing superhero life with a relationship, but it was... grounded.
"Wow," I said, genuinely surprised. "That's... actually really good advice, Bobby. For a guy who communicates primarily through ice sculptures and puns."
He smirked, the serious moment dissolving back into his usual playful energy. "Hey, I contain multitudes, Peter. Besides, someone's gotta keep you grounded. You spend too much time hanging from buildings, you start to lose touch with reality."
The mood lightened considerably after that. The weight I'd been carrying felt a little less crushing, and we slipped back into comfortable banter.
"Speaking of losing touch," I said, shaking my head, "Your old costume. The one with the weird fur collar? What were you thinking?"
Bobby groaned dramatically. "Okay, low blow! At the time I thought it was cool, Pete!"
"Just classic red and blue web-slinging perfection on my end."
"Yeah, 'perfection'," he scoffed good-naturedly. "Says the guy who thought 'Spider-Man' was a catchy codename. Seriously? You couldn't go with something cool? Like... Web-Knight? Or Arachnid Avenger? Or maybe just Gary?"
"Hey! Spider-Man is iconic! Instantly recognizable!" I defended, though I was laughing. "Besides, 'Iceman'? Not exactly intimidating. Sounds like a guy who sells popsicles."
"Better than sounding like a guy who gets stuck in drains!" Bobby fired back, and we both chuckled. It was easy, this. This back-and-forth, tearing down each other's questionable fashion choices and superhero names. It felt... normal. A rare luxury.
A waitress approached with the bill. My hand instinctively shot out, reaching for it.
"Nope, I got it," Bobby said, grabbing it first.
"Nuh uh, my invite," I countered, trying to snatch it back.
"Relax, I'm gainfully employed now, sort of. Besides, you probably blew your lunch money on web fluid components," he teased.
"And you probably spent yours on extra-strength windshield wiper fluid for your ice slides!" I shot back.
We wrestled over the small check presenter for a moment, a silent, friendly test of reflexes. Bobby was strong, even recovering, but I had... well, webs. While he was distracted trying to pull the bill towards him, I subtly shot a tiny stream of web from my wrist under the table, snagging a twenty-dollar bill from my wallet tucked into my jacket pocket. A second later, another nearly invisible thread stuck and pulled the twenty towards the waitress's hand as she stood nearby, waiting patiently with a practiced smile. She looked atbthe bill confused as to how it got there before smoothly pocketed the money.
"Alright, settle down, boys," she said, taking the bill presenter from Bobby. "Looks like someone already took care of it."
Bobby blinked, looking confused, then turned to me suspiciously. "Wait a minute... did you...?"
I gave him my best innocent grin, shrugging slightly. "Me? What? Couldn't be. Probably just some friendly neighborhood benefactor who likes to pay for heroes' coffee."
He stared at me for a second longer, then shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You're impossible, Pete." But there was no heat in it, just amusement.
"Someone's gotta be," I replied, standing up. "Ready to brave the mean streets of Brooklyn?"
We stepped outside into the cool, crisp air of the evening. The streetlights were on now, casting long, yellow pools on the sidewalk. The city hummed around us – distant sirens, the rumble of the subway, the chatter of passersby. We walked together to the corner, the easy silence between us comfortable.
"Well," Bobby said, stopping at the intersection where the subway entrance yawned below. "Guess this is me."
"Thanks, Bobby. For... everything. The coffee, the chat. It helped."
He gave me a genuine, warm smile. "Anytime, Pete. Seriously. You ever need to talk, or just need someone to rag on your questionable fashion choices, you know where to find me. Or just... call. Seriously."
"Will do," I promised, meaning it.
He clapped me lightly on the shoulder. "Alright, stay safe out there, you web-slinging weirdo."
"You too, you human ice cube."
With a final nod, he headed towards the subway stairs, disappearing into the flow of evening commuters. I watched him go for a moment, the smile lingering on my face, then fading as the earlier conversation came back into focus. Elaine. The balance. Trying.
I turned, walking slowly down the street, away from the cafe, towards a less populated alley. The familiar weight of the city's needs settled back onto my shoulders, but this time, it felt... different.
Ducking into the shadows of a narrow alleyway, I shucked off my jacket and backpack, revealing the familiar red and blue suit I wore underneath my civilian clothes. The mask felt like a second skin as I pulled it on, the lenses whirring softly.
Up on a high rooftop, perched on the ledge like a gargoyle, I looked out over the glittering expanse of Manhattan. The city lights stretched to the horizon, a breathtaking, complex organism of lives and stories. Down below, I could see couples walking hand-in-hand, friends laughing, families heading home. Normal lives. Lives I was sworn to protect, but also lives I sometimes felt utterly disconnected from, especially when it came to my own.
Elaine. Her face swam into my mind. The way she smiled, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she was amused. The way she looked disappointed, trying to hide it, when I had to cancel again. Bobby was right. I couldn't be perfect. I couldn't undo the inherent conflict between the two halves of my life. But I could try harder. I could stop running from the conversation, from the fear of hurting her or losing her. I could try to be more present, even when I was exhausted or scared. I could try to be more honest, even if the whole truth was impossible.
It wouldn't be easy. Nothing about this ever was.
Alright, Parker. Bobby gave you some decent advice for once. Now actually listen to it.
With a deep breath, I pushed off the ledge, the familiar rush of wind greeting me as I plummeted for a split second before shooting a web and swinging out into the night. The city lights blurred beneath me. There were patrols to run, crimes to stop, people who needed help. That wouldn't change. But maybe... maybe I could find a way to be better at the other stuff, too. For Elaine. For Bobby. For myself.
Yeah. Trying counts. And I had a lot of trying to do.