Spider-Man sat on the ledge, resting his head against a large gargoyle. It was late evening, and the sun could still barely be seen clinging to the horizon in the distance.
"Bruce, you have the easy life, buddy," he said. "You just sit here and watch. Watch as the city lives on. But you know what I like about you? You're teflon. Sure, to most it just looks like you take whatever crap lands on you. Mostly pigeon from the looks of it. But you just wait long enough, and the rain will come and wash it off. You just roll with the punches, and sooner or later, things take care of themselves for you.
"But for me . . . not so much. I thought that all of my powers came from a freak accident, a spider bite. Turns out, the freak accident was something that happened to me before I was even born. My dad was trying to keep the world safe from Scarecrow. He spent months trying to keep it out of the wrong hands, only for it to end up in me somehow. And the one thing that everyone knows about Scarecrow is that no matter how dangerous and unpredictable it can be by itself, it's even more unpredictable as a catalyst.
"Of course, the Scarecrow in my system probably saved my life. I mean, who else gets bit by a radioactive spider and lives?"
At this point, Spider-Man stood up. "And you're the only one who I can talk to right now. Mary Jane has enough of her own problems right now, with all of the repressed memories of her real father that seeing her fake father brought up. And Victor, well, he's got girl problems, and is off in LA trying to get Natalie back. I've never been one for getting buddy-buddy with too many other superheroes. And I don't dare drag anyone else into this mess. It's not a matter of being too dangerous, it's just, who will believe me?"
Spidey glanced over at Bruce, acknowledging the gargoyle's silence as an answer.
"I figured you would say that." Spidey sighed and looked out at the city below him. New York at night was always an amazing sight. So many lights in the city, and they were always changing, especially in Times Square.
Except that Times Square usually did not spark. The squealing of tires and the crunch of metal confirmed that things were not all as they seemed.
"So much for a pep talk," Spidey said. "Nice hanging with you, Bruce, but duty calls." He immediately jumped off of the edge of the building and started webslinging towards Times Square.
The webslinger decided to play the situation cautiously, so he landed on the side of one of the buildings in Times Square to get a feel for what was going on. It became immediately clear what was causing the problem.
Standing in the middle of the intersection was a pillar of blue light that crackled. If one looked closely, they could make out the shape of a human.
"Electro," Spidey muttered. "Why now, and why here?"
There was little Spider-Man figured he could do from where he was at. Based on Electro's appearance at the party, Spidey had surmised that Electro had managed to survive the destruction of his physical body in the fight at Osborn's lab, which made him all of the more dangerous. And I left all of my special Electro-fighting web fluid in the dorm. Basically, I can distract him, but for what? The cops have made a perimeter, but none of them are brave - or possibly stupid - enough to cross it to get anywhere near him. They're probably waiting for someone with heavier firepower.
With a sigh, Spider-Man fired a line of webbing in the general direction of Electro. "Might as well wing it like always," he said, as he fired another line to swing off of the building.
"Spider-Man!" Electro shouted. "I've been expecting you!"
"I would have hated to disappoint!" Spidey exclaimed as he leapt over Electro, and landed in the street facing the villain.
"But you know your usual tricks are useless against me."
"I know. But I'm also a bit on the stubborn side," Spidey said as he fired two weblines into Electro.
Electro laughed as the webs passed through him. "Silly little spider."
"I wasn't aiming for you, electric boy!" Spidey shouted over the energy crackle in the air. He tugged hard on his webs, which had attached themselves to a car that had been parked on the side of the street. The car came crashing right where Electro had been standing, causing his energy to spread.
Unfortunately for Spider-Man, he had not detached his webbing soon enough and the charge knocked him backwards. He landed hard on the pavement.
When he stopped skidding along the road, Spidey let his head fall back to the ground. "Just five more minutes," he mumbled. He opened his eyes, but things were still blurry. The red and blue lights of the NYPD cars were starting to blur together. But then, they were blocked by a black blob.
Not a blob. Person, Spidey thought.
"Thought you might need some help," he heard a female voice saying. It was a very soothing voice, and also familiar.
Spidey blinked, lifted his head up, and shook it a couple of times. He saw Madame Web crouching next to him. "Finally taking an active role in the fight?"
"Doesn't look like I have too," Madame Web replied. "Look."
"I'm trying," Spidey groaned. "Working on this whole focusing thing right now."
When Spider-Man's eyes finally focused, he could tell that the blurs falling from the sky were actually SHIELD agents descending with specialized equipment to handle Electro's noncorporeal form.
Madame Web helped Spider-Man stand up, and they saw what appeared to be a senior ranking agent walking their way. He was tall, black, and had white hair.
"Now for the debriefing," Madame Web whispered.
"As long as I get to walk away from it . . . " Spidey replied, and then he noticed exactly who was walking towards them. "I don't believe it. The one agent I've been needing to talk to for months. Wait a minute, why aren't you doing your disappearing act here?"
"He's an ally."
"Are you a SHIELD agent?"
Madame Web shook her head. "No, but I have close ties with them."
"Agent Bridge," Spidey said, acknowledging the man walking toward him. "I'm sure this isn't a thank you for all my hard effort."
"Actually, it is. Sort of," Bridge replied. "You slowed him down for us. And unlike a lot of the superhero help we get, you didn't get in our way."
"Glad I could help. But I have a feeling you're not going to let me go just like that."
"Not quite, Peter."
"Huh?" Spider-Man asked. "Who's Peter?"
Bridge stepped closer so he voice was barely above a whisper. "C'mon, kid. We're the biggest spy agency in the world, with eyes and ears everywhere. You think you can keep your secret from us? Not when your father was one of our best agents."
"I guess you do have a point," Spidey replied.
"I know that your father has returned to you," Bridge continued. "And I need to stress to you the importance of keeping an open mind."
"Open mind about what? I thought you were on my parents' side."
"I am, as far as the official word regarding their deaths. However, Richard Parker has gone off the grid too many times over the last twenty years for me to blindly trust him."
"Times?" Spidey wondered.
"Excuse me?"
"You said ‘times'," Spidey repeated. "Like you've known for sure that he wasn't dead for a while."
"There are a few details I myself did not know when we last spoke, and maybe a few that I kept hidden from you. It wasn't a safe time back then."
"And now?"
"You're close enough to the truth that holding back would just make you too much of a liability," Bridge answered. "So, you want answers? Here's what I know. Even before your parents' alleged death, your father had started what was bordering on an unhealthy obsession with Scarecrow. SHIELD had hoped to use their death as a deep cover for them, but things got messy." Bridge glanced back at the agents behind him. "Look, that's all I can tell you now. I'd recommend you drop any investigation you might be pursuing. But, if you do insist on finding out the truth, be careful." With that, he turned and ran back to his troops.
"Huh," Spider-Man commented. "This night is just getting more and more interesting."
"And it's not over," Madame Web added, grabbing Spidey's hand. "Come with me." With that, she created a misty portal and within a second, the two were standing on a roof above Times Square, both in civilian attire.
"Hey, not cool," Peter said.
"Relax, Peter. We're safe up here, and you know it."
Peter let out a deep breath and felt his shoulders relax. "There's been one thing bugging me since I saw you earlier. You seem awfully familiar, and even though you can be annoying as hell, you do have a calming influence."
"Thanks," Madame Web replied, smiling. "By the way, you can call me Cassie. Seems only fair for you to know my name since I know yours."
"Cassie. That's a nice name. Short for anything?"
"Cassandra."
Peter bobbed his head, taking the information in. "Do you have a last name, or is that asking too much?"
"Actually, that's not really as easy a question as you think," Cassie replied. "You see, I was adopted, and I never really got along with my parents. Plus, with their last name, there is a dreaded irony."
"Oh come on, how bad can it be?"
"My last name is Webb. With two b's."
Peter chuckled. "I can see why you want to ditch it. But what about the adoption part?"
"Well . . . my birth parents, I found out, weren't married at the time that I was born. They weren't ready to start a family at that point, so I was adopted. But they went missing about six years later, shortly after they gave birth to a boy. And I'm not sure if he would be comfortable letting me use his last name."
Peter paused and looked at Cassie. His brain was taking the pieces thrown at him and trying to put them together. But he was starting to get a headache because he was refusing to accept the conclusion that he was coming to.
"Why am I feeling like I'm in the middle of the last Star Wars movie?" Peter asked.
"The power is strong in my family," Cassie said, somewhat sarcastically as she paraphrased the movie. "My father has it. I have it – "
"Don't even say it!" Peter exclaimed.
"Peter, I've been wanting to meet you for a long time. And when I was finally able to, I couldn't reveal myself."
"This is too much. Everything's turning upside down and inside out on me," Peter whispered, with tears starting to form in his eyes.
"Hey, it's okay," Cassie said, walking over and hugging Peter. "I'm here. And no more revelations tonight."
"Thank you," Peter replied, putting his face on her shoulder, and returning the hug. "And sis?"
"Yeah?" Cassie chuckled slightly, not used to be called that.
"Does this mean you're done being cryptic?"
"Yes, Peter."
Victor Cranston did not know how to feel. For one thing, he was nearing exhaustion from staying up all night. Even for the heir of one of the richest men in New York City, it still took time to get a trip to Los Angeles put together. The time difference was not even enough to help Victor out.
Part of him was excited at the thought of seeing his girlfriend, Natalie Casswell. He was remembering all of the great memories the two had shared, not only during their relationship together, but also as childhood friends.
However, the more realistic side of Victor envisioned a less joyous reunion. Since she had gone off to the west coast nearly two months prior, Natalie had not kept up the regular contact that should have been expected. Victor simply got tired of pleading to her voicemail or e-mail inbox.
He carefully walked down the hall of Natalie's dorm, feeling like a complete outsider. It was bad enough when he had to go to a classmate's room in another dorm at ESU, but here, he was in the middle of a completely different culture. Fortunately, Natalie lived on the first floor, so he did not have to suffer through any potentially uncomfortable elevator or staircase situations.
Victor cautiously made his way to a door marked as "186," where he heard laughter on the other side. He raised his fist to knock on the door, but paused for a moment. In his head, he quickly played through two possible outcomes, knowing that neither would happen exactly as how he envisioned it. It took every ounce of effort he had to keep his telepathy at bay, because he did not want any possible truth to get in the way of his optimism. Finally, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
The laughing calmed down as Victor heard someone making their way to the door. Slowly, the door opened, and for the first time since August, Victor laid eyes on Natalie.
"Victor," Natalie said, surprised. "Um . . . you're here."
For a brief second, Victor could see his optimistic version of the next minute play out, but that was quickly shattered within two seconds. From somewhere within the room, he could hear a masculine voice call out, "Hey! Who is it, babe?"
Natalie looked back into the room, and then back at Victor. Victor put his hand on the door and slowly pushed it all the way open, allowing him to see the entire room, including the male sitting on the bed, with a shirt that was unbuttoned.
"Brett," Natalie started, "this is Victor – "
"I guess I'm the ex," Victor interrupted, seeing the fear creep into Brett's face.
"Hey, man," Brett interjected, throwing his hands in the air. He did not get to finish whatever thought was trying to pass through his lips before Victor turned and walked out.
Natalie looked at Brett apologetically. "I'm sorry, I have to take care of this," she said before quickly rushing after Victor.
Next issue: It's the ultimate decision for Victor and Natalie, while Peter tries to comprehend everything he has learned!