The next morning Peter tried calling around to find me and apologize.
"Hi, you've reached Mj and John. We can't reach the phone right now, so sing your song at the beep. Beep."
"Hello, uh... Mj. I figured Cate's with you. I wish you could just pick up the phone. I want to make sure she's alright and I have no idea what's going on, or uh, I don't know if you gave her the messages or what... Cate, if you're there and you can hear this I just want to talk to you... Okay." He took a deep breath. "Call me, please. Bye."
I had been listening to every message as I sat in the kitchen with Mj and little John. The second he said bye, I felt badly and I just wanted to talk to him. So I picked up the phone. But he'd already hung up and I sighed hanging up my end. Mj rubbed my back sympathetically. She was well informed of what had happened last night at dinner. She was not a happy best friend.
Peter back at the apartment started to walk away from the phone when it rang. He rushed back to it hoping it was me.
"Hello?" He asked quickly.
"Mr. Parker?"
"Yeah?"
"This is detective Neil Garrett from the 32nd precinct. I'm calling on behalf of Captain Stacey. He would like you to come down to the station to speak with him."
Peter agreed and went down to the station, to find Aunt May had been called in to. The pair were brought into Captain Stacey's office.
"Originally, we thought that this man, Dennis Caradine." Captain George Stacey placed the mug shot photo of the white haired man in front of them. "Was you're husband's killer." Peter and May looked at each other. "We were wrong." Those words spilled from his mouth and Peter and May's eye widened and looked back at George.
"What?" May said shocked.
"Turns out Mr. Caradine was only an accomplice. The actual killer is still at large." George took out another piece of paper.
"What are you talking about?" Peter said highly confused. He looked at the paper he'd slid to them and recognized the man as the one we fought off in the armored bank truck.
"This is the man who killed your husband." Peter stood to his feet with the picture in his hands. "His name is Flint Marko. He's a small time crook who's been in and out of prison." George explained.
"You've got this wrong." Peter stated.
"Two day's ago. He escaped. Evidently, he confessed his guilt to a cellmate. And we have a couple of witnesses who will corroborate the story."
All Peter could think about, was how the scene would have played out in his head. As Flint mercilessly killed his uncle for the car.
"Would you put these photos away, please." May said sadly.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Parker. I know this isn't easy. But please, be patient with us. We're doing our job. We will catch him." George said. The last bit pissed Peter off.
"No, you're not doing you're job." He turned around. "My girlfriend and I watched my Uncle die, and we chased down the wrong man. And now you're telling me there's been suspicions for two years? Witness? W-why weren't we told about this?" Peter demanded angrily.
"Settle down, son." George said calmly.
"No! I have no intention of settling down! This man killed my Uncle and he's still out there!" He yelled throwing the picture down and walking out.
May called my cell and informed me of what happened and about Peter's strange outburst. She was really worried about him. I needed to go home anyways and get clothes, so I left Mj's to go see Peter. I was concerned about it too. Peter hardly ever had outburst's like that and I couldn't believe that someone else had killed Ben Parker.
Peter stood brooding and tapping his finger inside the lonely, empty apartment. His girlfriend was pissed at him, his Uncle's true killer was on the loose. He was filled with so much anger. He placed the scanner on loudly and listened in to every call. Only unlike the usual Peter Parker he wasn't going to responding to any of the calls unless it pertained to Flint Marko. When I got to the apartment, the door was locked, so I knocked.
"Peter?" I said softly. "It's Cate. I'm not here about what happened at dinner. So, please open the door."
Peter sighed and removed himself from his position and walked over to the door. Unlocking it and pulled open the sticky door.
"Aunt May called me. She told me what happened. She's really worried about you... I'm worried about you." I said softly and placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes for a second before pulling away and his expression was almost blank.
"Well, don't be I'm fine." He said.
"Well, I just don't want you to do something stupid." I said and before I could explain he spoke up.
"Like try to find my Uncle's killer?" He scoffed.
"I'm not saying that. I just need you to be safe. And I don't want you to do something you'll regret, like what we did to Dennis..." I sighed.
"He had a gun on us. He had a gun pointed at you. I made a move, and he fell." Peter stated and he walked away from me angrily.
"Yes, I'm aware. I was there and I'm not accusing you of anything. But, I also know how much guilt we both felt when we saw he died, regardless of what happened to Uncle Ben." I spoke softly.
"10-22, auto at 556..." The police scanner said loudly and I sighed.
"Can you turn that thing off. For just a minute." I asked politely. Peter gave me harsh look and only walked only turning it down slightly.
"Peter, I'm here because I care about you. And I know that you made a mistake and you feel guilty, but... I wanna be here for you..."
"Okay. I get it. Thank you." He said rather harshly. "But, uhm." He cleared his throat. "I'm fine and I don't need your help." I looked at Peter and clicked my tongue.
"You know I'm a hero too. I don't know if you've forgotten about that lately or what, because your ego has suddenly become to big. But, even Spider-Man needs help sometimes. We need help sometimes... Like how I've needed you and you've suddenly disappeared on me." I shook my head slightly and grabbed a duffle bag from under the bed.
"What are you doing?" He asked. His voice and demeanor changing from angry to soft and concerned.
"I'm gonna find some place else to stay for a little while. I think it's clear that we need to just simply get some air." I stopped grabbing some clothes and looked at him. "I still love you, Peter." I zipped up my bag hoping maybe he'd fight for me. To stop me. But, no words left his mouth. I struggled with the door for a minute and popped it open, leaving the place that had been my home for the past two years.