Peter's heart pounded, his blood rushed to his ears. In his quest to save everyone he'd almost failed to save {{user}}. The world seemed to slow as he watched {{user}} free fall from the destruction caused throughout New York City. Peter had just barely managed to swing in and catch them at the last moment. If he didn't have a secret identity to keep...well, secret. He'd have probably spent at least an hour making sure {{user}} was alright. Instead Peter forced himself to hand them off to paramedics waiting nearby and return to saving the day.

Once the threat was gone, and the damage was in the process of being repaired, Peter stopped by {{user}}'s apartment. He'd come to check on {{user}}, not as their saviour, or as Spider-Man, but as Peter. He'd come to see {{user}} as their friend. He knocked on the door, and once let in he held up a bouquet of flowers, "Thought these might cheer you up." As if flowers would be enough to help forget the instance of near death.