A small early 2000s car raced through the streets of New York City, a police car chasing behind them, their lights flashing and their audio system demanding for the car theft to pull over. To no surprise, the car thief didn't listen. Spider-Man swung above the streets while Aureate flew ahead of the stolen automobile in search of a safe opening to stop and stop the man. He knew it was only a matter of time until the man's reckless driving caused an accident and hit an innocent bystander.
When he turned a right into a narrow street, devoid of New Yorkers, Raleigh dived down. He eased on his thrusters, and a few feet ahead of where the car was racing, Raleigh's feet slammed onto the ground. His knee's burned from the landing, but he faced his attention on the car in front of him.
For a split second, Raleigh caught sight of the man inside the driver's seat before he thrust his arms forward, and their sights were blocked from one another by glaring gold. The color trailed over the front of the car, seizing it and securing the front wheels in place. Raleigh's feet slid across the asphalt and his left shoulder cracked, striking pain under his skin and across his side. He bit his lip (drawing blood) until the pressure subsided and the car came to a full forced stop.
Inside the car, the thief pushed off the steering wheel. Blood gushed from his (now curved) nose. He groaned and opened the driver's side door, tumbling out of it and onto the mostly bare streets. His head rolled, looking for the culprit that stopped his stolen car. He stopped when his eyes met with a smiling ravenet superhero.
"Hello!" Aureate waved with his right hand, a beaming grin lighting the area. He pointed to the white car beside the guy, noticing the red and blue lights nearing. "Did you steal that car, sir?"
The man glowered at the golden hero and felt around in his back pocket for his gun. He drew out the small silver weapon, the barrel of the gun raising to aim at Raleigh, and instead of being frightened, the teenager just sighed.
"I'll take that as a yes, then."
Before the man could do anything to Raleigh, the hand holding the gun was suddenly grasped by something sticky and was yanked upward. The gun slipped out of his hand and fell to the asphalt, and the man's other hand was also grabbed in the same sticky material. His body sailed off the ground, and Raleigh watched as he bounced between the two buildings.
Spider-Man crawled on a thin web from one building to the next and narrowed his eyes on the alarmed and frankly upset criminal. Peter tutted under the mask and shook his head. "You shouldn't steal things, Mr. Criminal Man. Have fun in prison!"
The red and black hero swung away, and Aureate followed him as the cop car arrived and skidded to a stop behind the stollen vehicle, gawking at the strung-up criminal.
A minute later, after flying through the streets of New York City, Raleigh turned off his boot thrusters and landed harshly onto the roof of a small pharmacy building facing Madison Square Garden. He scratched at his shoulder, his face pulled tightly into a pained expression. The tape that Trystan had helped him put on his shoulder was supposed to keep the muscles and everything still, but he ignored Trystan's one request of keeping weights from crashing into his arms, so it hadn't done anything. And now the tape had slipped off of his sweaty skin, and the strain was tearing at his muscles.
"Your shoulder?" Peter asked.
"Yeah..." Raleigh nodded and dropped his hand. He looked down at the civilians and tourists walking around. A few, mostly older children, pointed up at him and Spider-Man, gawking and yelling at their exhausted parents about the two superheroes. Since they could see his mouth, Raleigh smiled at them and gave a little wave. He looked back at Peter and narrowed his eyes. "I swear, Peter Parker, if you tell me to lay low because of my shoulder, I'm going to throw you into a brick wall."
"Totally wasn't gonna say that." Raleigh watched Peter, and the eyes on the Spider-Man mask closed as he threw his head up. His hands waved in front of him. "Okay, maybe I was gonna say something like that."
Raleigh snorted. "It doesn't matter, anyway, because we should probably head back home. I'm sure Trystan and May need help prepping for that dinner-lunch... thing."
Even though he couldn't see Peter's face beneath the mask, he was sure it was pulled into a grimace. It was their first shared family meal since both Peter and Raleigh came out to their respected guardians as dating one another. And while nothing had really changed between the adults and teens, both Peter and Raleigh were could already predict that the meal would still be somewhat awkward.
"This is breaking news." A robotic voice echoed through the chaotic streets, and both Peter and Raleigh faced the noise. Their eyes latched onto the giant screens plastered onto the side of Madison Square Garden. The image on the screens flickered from the words BREAKING NEWS to a male news anchor sitting behind a clean desk. The image zoomed in on the reporter's face as he began talking. "We come to you with revelations about last week's attack in London. An anonymous source provided this video. It shows Quentin Beck, aka Mysterio, moments before his death. A warning, you may find this video disturbing."
Raleigh shared a confused and panicked glance with Peter, turning back to the screens. He had no idea what was happening or what they were about to be shown because as far as he knew, there shouldn't have been any cameras on the bridge that Peter didn't eventually reclaim with E.D.I.T.H.'s help.
The feed swaps from the clear crisp image of the news anchor, and onto a fuzzy and glitchy recording of Quentin Beck. The man's face was scrapped and cut up, and instead of the mo-cap suit he had actually been wearing that afternoon, he was in his Mysterio costume. He appeared panicked.
"I managed to send the Elemental through the rift, but I don't think I'm gonna make it. Spider-Man and Aureate attacked me for some reason. They have an army of weaponized drones, Stark technology. Spider-Man is saying he's the only one who's gonna be the new Iron Man, no one else."
Raleigh couldn't tear his eyes off the screen, even when he felt people's eyes boring into him and see the shine from their phones directed at him and Peter from the corner of his eyes.
The feed changes again, this time to a video taken from the left side of Quentin. Where his illusioned self struggled to remain propped up against the wall as he squired in apparent pain—Raleigh knew (at that exact moment) the real Quentin hid, preparing to shoot Peter in the side of his head. Spider-Man and Aureate were just in the frame of the camera, their uniformed legs being the only thing revealing that they were even there.
"Are you sure you want to commence the drone attack?" E.D.I.T.H.'s robotic voice asked over the video feed. "There will be significant casualties."
"...End this." Raleigh's voice crackled through the video and Peter shuffled on his feet.
"Do it," Peter said. "Execute them all."
The sound of gunfire and explosions struck through the screens speakers, supposedly happening somewhere off-screen from what the video frame was showing. This time Raleigh unwittingly took a single step back. The pain that had been in his shoulder had somehow traveled up to his head, pounding against his skull.
None of what he was seeing was right. E.D.I.T.H. had never said anything about a drone attack, nor anything about casualties.
None of this is right. Peter would have never agreed to E.D.I.T.H. if she claimed she was commencing a drone attack or that people would be casualties. And Raleigh wouldn't have been telling Peter to end it. This entire video was a lie, but it made them sound like they wanted to end people and execute them when they had been doing the complete opposite. They did everything to save them.
The video returned to the reporter in the news studio. He continued. "This shocking video was released earlier today on the controversial news website TheDailyBugle.net."
The head of The Daily Bugle news website, J. Jonah Jameson, flashed on the screen. He was an older man, with a heavy mustache perfectly trimmed above his lip, and deep wrinkles across his face showcasing the amount of stress and anger he has dealt with throughout his years. Papers were scattered out in front of him on his desk and under his microphone, while The Daily Bugle logo popped up beside his head and his name over the messy desk.
"There you have it, folks, conclusive proof that Spider-Man and Aureate were responsible for the murder of Mysterio, an interdimensional warrior who gave his life to protect our planet and who will no doubt go down in history as the greatest superhero of all time," Jameson emphasized his words with his hands.
Raleigh felt sick. Murder... Them responsible? He didn't—They didn't kill Beck—that was all his own doing. This isn't right. This really isn't right. The sense of panic that hadn't been with Raleigh for a few days swept over him. None of this is right. They didn't do anything wrong—They didn't—And Quentin was a coward and a liar. He wasn't a hero.
"But that's not all, folks," Jameson continued. "Here's the real blockbuster. Brace yourselves."
The video feed switches back to Quentin, who was now appearing more frantic by looking out the Tower Bridge windows. "Spider-Man and Aureate's real—Spider-Man and Aureate's real names are P—"
The video cuts off, going black as pixels glitched over the top of it. Raleigh's chest was tight, and his head pounding turned into waves of vertigo as he stared at the blank screen. He couldn't tear his eyes from it—he couldn't do anything except stare and hope that the feed broke and that Video-Quentin couldn't reveal the one secret Peter and Raleigh have tried desperately to keep hidden. The one secret that gave them the ability to have that normality that they needed. It was the only thing they wanted.
The video crackled in its return, and Quentin stared into the camera, straight at them. "Spider-Man and Aureate's names are Peter Parker and Raleigh Ridley!"
Both of their yearbook pictures appeared on the screen, side by side, their faces everywhere for the whole world to see.
Raleigh's rigid stance gives out as his hands fly to cover his nose and mouth, while sharp, hot needles prickle into every inch of his body. And behind him, Peter's palms pound into his head temples as he blurted the only thing he could at that moment:
"What the fu—"
Just like that... In a blink of an eye... All that they knew and had, crumbled in front of them as people took in the words of Quentin Beck. As people came to the conclusion that Spider-Man and Aureate were murderers... No, no, that's not right... As people came to the conclusion that Peter Parker and Raleigh Ridley murdered innocent civilians (and they killed the one person who sought to stop them.) They weren't heroes. There was no way they could be heroes... Peter and Raleigh were now, to the world, everything they fought against—they were villains.