'No,' Peter thought as he stared at the number on his phone screen. 'Not anymore. Time to end this charade.'
He opened his banking app and set up the transfers. Anonymous payment directly to the hospital's billing department for the full surgery cost.
Mortgage paid off completely with a cashier's check. Trust fund established for Uncle Ben and Aunt May with enough money to keep them comfortable for the rest of their lives.
All of it structured to be untraceable back to him directly if anyone bothered to investigate.
Then he closed his phone and walked downstairs to the kitchen.
Uncle Ben sat at the small kitchen table. Bills spread out in front of him in organized piles. Calculator sitting beside his right hand.
His face looked tired. Worn down by stress and worry. Aunt May was at the hospital right now for her pre-surgery consultation with the specialists.
"Uncle Ben," Peter said from the doorway.
Ben looked up from his paperwork. Forced a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hey, Pete. How was school today?"
"Fine." Peter walked into the kitchen and sat down in the chair across from his uncle. "We need to talk about something."
Something in Peter's tone made Ben pay attention. He put down the pen he'd been holding. Set the calculator aside. Gave Peter his full focus.
"What's wrong?" Ben asked. Concern creeping into his voice.
"Nothing's wrong. But I need to tell you something important." Peter kept his voice calm and even. Adult tone from a teenage body. "My inventions. The patents I've been filing. They made more money than I told you."
Ben's expression shifted. Concern mixed with confusion. His eyebrows drew together. "How much more are we talking about?"
"A lot more," Peter said simply.
"Peter, I don't understand—"
"The mortgage is paid off," Peter interrupted. His voice stayed level. "The hospital bills for Aunt May's surgery are covered in full. All of it is handled."
Ben stared at him. His mouth opened but no words came out. He looked like someone had just told him the laws of physics had stopped working.
"What?" Ben finally managed to say.
"I made seventy-five million dollars, Uncle Ben." Peter let the number sit in the air between them. "Real money. From real inventions that I created and patented. All of it legal. Clean...and Mine."
The words hung in the air of the small kitchen. The refrigerator hummed in the background. Somewhere outside a car drove past on the street.
Ben's face went through several emotions in rapid succession. Shock that made his eyes widen. Disbelief that made him shake his head slightly.
Worry that creased his forehead. Then something else. Something that looked almost like fear.
"Peter," Ben said slowly. Each word careful and measured.
"That kind of money... that changes people. That kind of money makes you a target. Don't reveal it easily unless you're ready okay?" He believed Peter.
"I know," Peter said. He leaned forward slightly. "That's exactly why I hid it. That's why I kept it secret from you and Aunt May. I wanted to stay normal. Stay safe. Stay humble and grounded like you've always taught me."
"But you're telling us now," Ben said. His voice had a question in it.
"Because Aunt May needs surgery. Because I saw you sitting here looking at second mortgages and payment plans." Peter's voice softened slightly.
"Because I can't watch you struggle and worry when I have the power to fix everything. The power to make all these problems disappear."
Peter leaned forward and placed his hands flat on the table. "Money doesn't change who I am, Uncle Ben. I'm still the same person. The same kid you and Aunt May took in. I just have resources now. Tools I can use to help people. Starting with the two people who matter most."
Ben rubbed his face with both hands. A gesture of someone trying to process impossible information. "Seventy-five million dollars."
"Yes," Peter confirmed.
"From inventions you made in high school," Ben said. Statement not question.
"And before high school," Peter added. "I started filing patents when I was younger. Through legal proxies and shell companies."
Ben looked at him. Really looked at his nephew sitting across the kitchen table. "You're not like other kids, Peter. You never have been. The way you think. The way you talk. The way you solve problems. Sometimes I forget you're only fifteen years old."
"Sixteen in two months," Peter said automatically. A small habit.
Ben almost smiled at that. Almost. "Right." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. Okay. I need some time to process all of this. But Peter... I need you to promise me something."
"Anything," Peter said without hesitation.
"Promise me this money won't change what really matters. Family. Values. Helping people because it's the right thing to do, not because you can afford to." Ben's eyes were intense. Serious. "Promise me you'll stay the person your Aunt May and I raised you to be."
Peter met his eyes without flinching. "I promise. The money is just a tool, Uncle Ben. Like a wrench or a computer. It's not who I am. It doesn't define me."
Ben nodded slowly, while still processing the information. Then he stood up from his chair. Walked around the table with deliberate steps. Pulled Peter into a tight hug.
"Thank you," Ben whispered into Peter's hair. His voice was thick with emotion. "For saving May. For taking care of us. But mostly for staying you through all of this."
Peter hugged him back. Held onto his uncle. "Always," he said quietly.
They stayed like that for a long moment. Uncle and nephew. Family.
Then Ben pulled away and wiped at his eyes quickly. "Your Aunt May is going to cry when we tell her," Ben said. His voice was lighter now. Almost normal. "You know that, right?"
"I know," Peter said.
"And then she's going to lecture you about hiding things from family. About how we're supposed to share burdens together."
Peter smiled. A real expression this time. "I know that too."
"Good." Ben sat back down in his chair. Looked at the bills spread across the table.
Then he started laughing. The sound was slightly hysterical. "Seventy-five million dollars. My nephew is richer than anyone I've ever met in my entire life."
"It's just numbers on a screen, Uncle Ben," Peter said.
"No, Pete." Ben's expression turned serious again. "It's not just numbers. It's freedom from worry. It's security for the future. It's power to change lives." He paused. "And with great power—"
"Comes great responsibility," Peter finished the familiar phrase. "I know. I won't forget. I promise."
Ben nodded. Satisfied. "Then I trust you. Completely."
Those four words meant more than any amount of money ever could. More than seventy-five million. More than anything.
Peter stood up from the table. "I should start making dinner. Aunt May will be home soon from the hospital."
"Let me help," Ben said immediately. He got up and joined Peter at the counter. "And Peter? Thank you. Really. From the bottom of my heart."
Peter just nodded. Because what else could he say to that?
Later that night, after Aunt May had come home and been told everything. After she had cried and lectured and cried again. After dinner and dishes and family time. Peter lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling of his room.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He picked it up and checked the screen. Text message from an unknown number.
"Impressive patent sale. Very impressive. We should talk soon. —N.O."
Norman Osborn.
Peter's jaw tightened. His fingers gripped the phone a bit harder. 'Of course he noticed. Of course someone like Norman would be tracking major patent sales in his field.'
He deleted the text message. But the message itself was crystal clear even after deletion.
The world was noticing Peter Parker now. And not all of that attention would be friendly or well-intentioned.
'Fine,' Peter thought as he set his phone back down. 'Let them notice. Let them all see me. I'm ready for whatever comes next.'
He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. New problems to solve. New threats to handle.
But tonight, his family was safe. Uncle Ben and Aunt May would never have to worry about money again. That's what mattered most right now.
Everything else could wait until morning.
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