when the hero comes to the one who believes in him¹

SEASON ONE PROLOGUE

The small, quiet bar, located in one of Manhattan's old districts, where there were still nine or eleven-story buildings to be found, was quiet and half-empty.  On Tuesdays, there were few people here, and the stage, where the local singer usually sang, was empty.  In silence, among the dim lamps and black walls, there were eleven tables for three and five people, and next to the bar there are seven more seats - an ideal place for those who would like to drink in silence, thinking about something of their own, or chat quietly in a small  company, celebrating an important day.

True, now the room was barely a third full - most of the regular visitors were either at home or at work, and souls wandered into the room.  This place was known to few, but occasionally those who needed peace and a glass of stronger alcohol also wandered here.

At a corner table at the far end of the bar sat a thin young man, most likely a student at some New York university, taking occasional sips of whiskey that had warmed up.  He didn't have a snack, and his dark brown, almost black eyes were fixed on the wall behind the bartender - from time to time the young man shuddered, looking around, as if hearing his own voice, but then calmed down again and looked only ahead.  This did not surprise either the bartender, who looked sympathetically at the brown-haired man, or the two regulars of the bar, the two technicians of the Brooklyn Bridge, who came to take a break from their shift - more recently, after a small war between Hammer-Tech and Oscorp, many were  so lost, pensive, sad.  Too many had to bury loved ones, relatives or just friends in the war of robots and super-soldiers, with whom neither the army nor the police could do anything, and only Spider-Man, the Friendly Neighbor, could at least somehow calm down the mercenaries of both corporations.

-Peter, you have to go, - the man approached with sympathy looked at the young man, his gaze on the wall.  -I know it’s hard for you to go home, but it’s quite late, and it’s an hour and a half to get to Queens.-  You may be late for the train.

-Thank you, Hank,- the brown-haired man said quietly, in one gulp chanting a quarter full glass of whiskey, and putting a half-hundred bill on the table.  - I'll stop by tomorrow, okay?

- Maybe you can rest, Pete?  the man asks quietly.  Having opened this bar, O'Connor would never have thought that he would take care of a boy who would be suitable for his sons.  A student, scientist and just a good guy lost all the people close to him - his aunt, only relative, fiancee and best friend during the "Robot Incident".  - Let’s just rest at home tomorrow?  Get enough sleep, take a walk around the city, go somewhere?

-What for?  - the guy smiled bitterly, looking at the man.  - Why do something if it's pointless?  It's easier for me to come here and drink than to plan something again, do something and create something.  This is pointless, because these creatures can come again and destroy everything ... And I can not save anyone ...

-Pete ... I don't know what about your aunt, but Gwen would hardly approve of such an attitude,- the man said, shaking his head.  During the six months that they came to this place, Hank perfectly studied both teenagers - the laconic, slightly embarrassed and quiet Peter, and the cheerful, perky and sociable Gwen.  - I don't know what will happen next.  Nobody knows, but don't make them look at you reproachfully after you met there in Heaven.  This is not a matter of giving up on your life, forgetting yourself in alcohol.  God always has a plan, for everyone, for everything.  And trust me, if you've lost Gwen, it's not the end of your life.  This is just a test to prove to Him that you are worthy.

-You should go to church,- the guy said with a grin.  -You would make the best priest in all of Manhattan.  Okay, you won't see me here tomorrow, I promise.

-And don't get involved in anything, Parker!  I will worry!  - Immediately noticed the man, looking as the young man walked out the door.  Despite the fact that the whiskey was not divorced, thin, but wiry, the brown-haired man held himself confidently - this was another oddity in the piggy bank of the guy who was always quiet.  - I hope he will be all right.  Protect him, Lord, he has had quite a few trials in this world, give him happiness, because he deserves it like no one else ...

Muttering a word of advice to the young man under his breath, Hank quickly took his empty glass, fifty dollars, and walked towards the bar.  The evening was not over yet, so it was not worth relaxing, although his main headache was gone.

Leaving the bar, Peter Parker, a Columbia University student and personal assistant to Curt Connors, was depressed.  Three months have passed since Norman Osborn and Justin Hammer started a small get-together in one of the largest cities in the United States.  Robot fighters, controlled by Detroit corporations, attacked Oscorp, simultaneously creating chaos in three of the five boroughs of New York, where the production facilities of the Osborn brainchild were located.  Three days later, all sorts of criminal gangs crawled out of all the holes, which also brought their valley into the ongoing chaos, and then Kingpin joined the case with his gang of mutants and thugs.  The police, already unable to cope with Hammer's mercenaries and Oscorp fighters, turned out to be practically powerless, and the city's superheroes - Spider-Man, Daredevil, Deadpool and the Fantastic Four could not help everyone, everywhere, which ultimately led to huge civilian casualties.  As a result, when the ongoing chaos began to threaten Manhattan, the army and SHIELD got involved in restoring order.  before quietly observing the agony of the law enforcement, it was too late for many of the city's civilians.  In Brooklyn, Queens and the Bronx, a fifth of the population died, which simply led to the outrage of local residents, especially at the moment when Justin Hammer and Norman Osborn were acquitted, blaming the organization "Hydra" for everything.  In the protests against the local authorities, which were not always peaceful, some part of the population died, and worst of all, the families of those surviving police officers who had to take part in the suppression of the real riots, including the Stacy family.  And if Peter first lost his aunt, who was driving to work, then George Stacey, his daughter and wife.

It was then that Peter broke down, on the night of April 11, the young man realized that life is shit in which everyone is swimming.  It was on that night that Spider-Man disappeared from the skies of New York, leaving the city's residents alone to deal with their problems.  Having settled in the now empty apartment of his aunt, in which he used to live with Gwen, Peter began, first to fall behind on the course, and then simply stopped showing up at the university, preferring alcohol to communicate with people.

"There are you, son,"a quiet voice, which was heard behind the guy, made the young man turn around.  A tall, slightly thin blond man with a short hedgehog of hair and square glasses came out of the shadow that a lighted lamp post gave.  George Stacy, current New York City Police Chief.  "And what have you brought yourself to, Pete? Do you think my Gwen would like the view I see now?"

"She’s gone, Mr. Stacy,- the teenager said gloomily, looking at the asphalt. "She died when those creatures attacked your house.  Gwen won't see me again, and I won't be able to look at her.  You know that very well, sir.

"i know, kid, - said the man quietly, approaching the teenager.  "it's howl from the fact that I will no longer see my daughter and wife, but I do not slip into a state of a pig, Peter!  Why can I do this, and you, whom my girl called “he looks like you, father.  Give him a chance ”, can't you !?  Do you really have that much respect for her?

"Why should I live, George,- the guy whispered quietly, instinctively embracing the man who shared his grief with the guy.  - Why live if she is not around?  I lost everyone, parents, uncle, aunt, Gwen ... Why should I live, strive for something if this life takes away from me everyone I love !?  And most importantly for what?  I didn’t do anything bad, I just tried to live ..."

"I don’t know why I’m doing this either, son," said George quietly, looking at the guy.  The young man crying into his shoulder seemed to the man the dearest of all, because he truly grieved for the same people whom the man himself had lost.  "Let's go home, you need to sleep it off, rest, and you don't need to drink….