The Amazing Spider-Man of Young Justice (Season 1)

Image

New York Bank, November 22nd, 09:30 EST

The cold had settled into the city like it wasn't planning to leave anytime soon. Aunt May and I were sitting in the lobby of the bank, waiting for our appointment. The place felt like it was from another world—marble floors, tall ceilings, and chandeliers that didn't belong in our part of Queens. It smelled like the past, like old money and people who had never known what it was like to have an overdue rent notice sitting on their kitchen table. Aunt May had one of her scarves wrapped around her neck, and I could see her rubbing her fingers together absently, the way she did when she was nervous. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but deep down, I was just as anxious.

It wasn't like I could swing my way out of this one. This was the kind of thing Spider-Man couldn't punch or web up.

After what felt like forever, a loan officer called us into his office. The nameplate on his desk said "Mr. Brooks." He looked like the kind of guy who spent his whole life in places like this—starched suit, thinning hair, serious expression. His office smelled like ink and fresh paper, like contracts and formalities. He didn't look at either of us as we sat down, just shuffled some papers on his desk before finally speaking.

"Thank you for coming in, Mrs. Parker. Mr. Parker." He nodded at us. "I've reviewed your application, and I'm afraid we're going to have to discuss some... issues with the request."

Aunt May leaned forward, her eyes hopeful but patient. "Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Brooks. I know it's a lot, but we were hoping for a little help, just to get back on our feet."

She always had that soft way of talking, the kind of tone that made people listen, made them want to help. I've seen it a thousand times—how she could make even the hardest person reconsider, if just for a moment. But this wasn't the kind of fight you could win with kindness. I could see it in Mr. Brooks' eyes before he even spoke.

"I understand your situation, Mrs. Parker," he began, his voice professional but stiff. "However, after reviewing your financial records, I'm afraid we can't approve the loan at this time."

Aunt May's smile faltered for just a second, but she held onto it, refusing to let her worry show. "Could you explain why?" she asked, still calm, still sweet. "Maybe there's something we can do to adjust?"

Mr. Brooks nodded, glancing at the papers again. "Your income, while steady, is not sufficient to cover the amount of the loan you've requested, given the other expenses you're dealing with—such as your mortgage, and the medical bills from your late husband's treatments. The bank has strict guidelines on debt-to-income ratios, and unfortunately, your current situation places you in a higher risk category."

I could see Aunt May's hands tremble ever so slightly as she gripped the edge of her purse. It was a tiny movement, barely noticeable, but I saw it. I hated seeing that. I hated seeing her try so hard to keep everything together when it was clear things were falling apart. She'd already been through so much since Uncle Ben died. We both had.

"I see," she said, her voice quieter now. "But isn't there anything we can do? I've always made my payments on time, and I'm sure if we could just get some help..."

Mr. Brooks shook his head, though he tried to sound sympathetic. "I understand, Mrs. Parker, but the bank has certain policies in place. Given the outstanding debts, and the fact that your mortgage still has several years left, we can't approve any additional loans at this time. I'm truly sorry."

Aunt May sat back in her chair, her face still wearing that small, polite smile, but I could see the disappointment in her eyes. I could see how much this was hurting her, even if she didn't want to show it. She'd been trying to keep everything together for so long, and now it felt like things were slipping further out of her control.