Peter, sitting on the roof of a tall building: [dejectedly] I thought I finally had someone to talk superhero stuff with, y’know? Someone who wouldn’t judge me or tell me I’m not ready. Someone who understands the struggles of balancing a normal life and saving the world.
Stephen, sitting next to Peter: You know, I happen to know a thing or two about sacrifices and saving the world. If you want someone to talk to, I don’t really live all that far away. Just across the water from Queens. My door is always open for you, Peter. Okay?
Peter: Thanks, Doctor Strange.
Stephen: Just Stephen is fine. Or Doc.