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Peter patrolled Queens and spotted men assaulting a couple. He intervened immediately.
The night was unusually quiet until Peter noticed a commotion down a dimly lit alley. As he approached, he saw several men threatening a couple who looked terrified. Without hesitation, Peter rushed toward them, his heart pounding with urgency. He shouted for the attackers to stop and positioned himself between the couple and their assailants.
“Didn’t your parents teach you not to harass people?”, asked Peter quipping.
The confrontation drew the attention of passersby, some of whom called for help while others watched in alarm. Thanks to Peter’s swift response, the couple had a chance to escape the dangerous situation. Afterwards, Peter checked on their well-being and made sure law enforcement was informed about the incident.
Peter knelt beside the shaken couple, his mask still on but his tone gentle. “Are you both okay?” he asked, concern clear in his voice as he scanned them for injuries. The young woman clung to her boyfriend’s arm, eyes still wide from the ordeal. Peter waited patiently, giving them a moment to catch their breath.
The young man managed to nod, breathing heavily. “We’re all right, I think. Just scared,” he said, voice trembling slightly. Peter offered a reassuring nod, trying to put them at ease.
The girl found her voice, smiling shakily. “Yes, thank you, Spider-Man. We didn’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.” She wiped away a tear, her gratitude evident. The boyfriend echoed her thanks, still glancing nervously over his shoulder.
Peter waved off their thanks with a modest smile. “Don’t mention it. I’m just glad I was nearby,” he replied, glancing around to make sure the attackers were gone. “Make sure you stick together and get somewhere safe. If you ever need help, call out. Someone will listen.”
The couple exchanged a grateful look before the girl squeezed her boyfriend’s hand and nodded. “We will. Thank you again.” They hurried away, glancing back one last time, relief flooding their faces as they disappeared into the night. Peter watched them go, satisfied that they were unharmed, before swinging away into the shadows, his thoughts lingering on the encounter.
Peter just swung away from the scene. He ended up at the roof of his old school, when he suddenly felt there was somebody else there.
He spun around, tensing, his senses tingling. The moonlight revealed a familiar figure standing near the edge, her red jacket bright against the night sky. Wanda gave him a small smile, her hands tucked into her pockets as she watched him with a knowing gaze.
“Ms. Maximoff?”, asked Peter surprised.
“Call me Wanda”, said Wanda.
“Wanda”, repeated Peter. “What are you – I mean, it’s quite a surprise to see you.”
“I don’t know”, admitted Wanda. “But this place, this spot feels peaceful.”
“I usually come here when I’m overwhelmed myself”, said Peter.
“I see that, Peter”, said Wanda, which surprised Peter.
“How do you –“, began Peter when Wanda interrupted him.
“My magic protected me from Strange’s memory wipe spell”, said Wanda. She knows about what Peter had gone through. Having his identity exposed, being treated as the bad guy.
“And how have you been, Wanda?”, asked Peter out of curiosity. He has seen in the internet about what happened in Westview, the mind control, the bad things people said about Wanda. He didn’t believe Wanda would be capable of the cruelty they accused her of.
“Good, I suppose”, said Wanda. She didn’t feel like deserving of Peter’s compassion. She did horrible things, harmed people, killed people, almost killed a kid. While Peter was clean of guilt.
“You know, I don’t really believe the things people say about you”, said Peter.
“I harmed people because I was selfish to let go of my children”, said Wanda, almost tearing up. “I chased a girl for her powers, I harmed people, fought Strange, almost broke the multiverse.”
“You know, I was going to say the same thing”, said Peter. “I fought Strange, almost broke the multiverse because I was selfish too.” Well, technically, he wanted Ned and MJ to have a chance at a future.
Wanda looked at Peter, her eyes searching his face for judgment but finding only understanding. For a moment, the weight of their mistakes seemed lighter, shared between them. “Maybe that’s why we ended up here, together,” she said quietly, “trying to find peace in a world that keeps reminding us of what we’ve done.”
“I almost killed the man who killed my aunt”, said Peter, recalling the fight at the Statue of Liberty. “Then, another version of me from the multiverse stopped me from going down that road.”
“I lost my children”, said Wanda. “Well, they weren’t actually real, they could only live in the Hex. Then, I fought another witch who wanted my powers, and after depowering her, I dissolved the Hex. My kids, Vision. They were all gone.”
“Sorry to hear that”, said Peter sympathetically. He could understand the context of the Hex. Without it Wanda’s kids and Vision couldn’t live. But wait, wasn’t Vision dead before the Hex? Maybe it was a magic version of him, perhaps.
Peter hesitated, thinking of May and all the sacrifices that had been made. “Grief can make us do things we never thought we’d do,” he said quietly. “But trying to hold on to hope, even when it hurts—that’s something I get.” He offered Wanda a tentative smile, hoping to reassure her that she wasn’t alone in her regrets.
Wanda stared at her hands, tracing invisible lines over her palms as she tried to steady her voice. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever forgive myself,” she admitted quietly. “Every day feels like a battle between what I’ve lost and who I want to be.”
“You don’t have to fight it alone, Wanda,” said Peter, his voice gentle but filled with conviction. He leaned forward slightly, trying to meet her gaze, hoping she would see the sincerity in his eyes. “I know how it feels to carry the weight of guilt and loss, to wake up every day haunted by the past. But you don’t have to face it all by yourself. I could be your friend if that’s what you want.” He paused, searching for the right words. “Sometimes, having someone who understands—someone who’s been through their own darkness—can make it a little easier. You don’t have to be alone in this. I’m here, and I want to help if you’ll let me.”
“I’d like that, Peter”, said Wanda, feeling for the first time how the weight on her shoulders has been lifted. Peter’s probably right, she doesn’t have to be alone in this. Peter’s another kindred soul.
A gentle silence settled between them, filled not with shame, but with a sense of hope neither had expected. For the first time in a long while, Wanda could see a path forward—one where forgiveness might someday be possible, and where friendship could help heal old wounds.