"Chopper 1610, what's your twenty?"
"Three clicks from Alpha Point, Chopper 616. Ready to board."
"Copy that."
As the sun set on the city of New York a mere twenty-four hours after the destructive attack perpetrated by Flint Marko, mercilessly cut short by the combined efforts of Captain America, Spider-Man, and a tempermental talking duck that most were sure was some sort of hoax generated for internet publicity, two heavily armored helicopters swooped over lower Manhattan and made their way out towards the middle of the ocean. The pilot of the first glanced over at the Statue of Liberty and gave it a nod, customarily, as he'd been both a New York native his entire life and a proud patriot. The second merely followed, their destination mapped only on their onboard radar HUD.
"Alpha Point, this is Chopper 616. Access code E-X-C-E-L."
"Access code granted, Chopper 616. Chopper 1610, you have your's set?"
"That's a roger, Alpha Point. Access code is S-I-O-R."
"You're all clear, gentlemen. Preparing for your dock."
The radar HUD screen flashed a bright green, indicating a successful breach. And within moments, the waves overlooking fifteen miles out from the island of Manhattan began to part with a coming force from underneath. In the minute that both helicopters took to arrive to the designated spot, a massive triangular structure had emerged from beneath the water, ascending high enough to reveal itself as a multi-storied and heavily fortified station. This underwater hub was The Raft, a state-of-the-art Supermax prison designed by Stark Industries to hold some of the most dangerous individuals in America. Inside The Raft, some of the most feared terrorists of the modern age were now suffering a lengthy stay. Otto Octavius, Sergei Kravinoff, Quentin Beck, Maxwell Dillon, and Adrian Toomes, among others, rounded up the list of both superpowered and non-superpowered individuals of notoriety.
And now, one of their past co-conspirators would join them to serve out a presumed life sentence. Captured after a lengthy battle with the mutant peacekeepers known as The X-Men, The Raft had made an especially large cell prepared for the coming arrival of Aleksei Sytsevich - better known to the world as the rampaging Rhino. Sitting in the bunk of the second chopper, an electrified collar strapped around his heavily armored neck, Rhino grunted as the helicopter spun in unison with the first and began a peaceful descent. Two of the guards noted his reaction, both smirking to themselves.
"Looks like the big and bad ole' Rhino ain't too fond of his new living situation!", one sarcastically called out to the other. "Relax, big guy. Think of it more as a homecoming. A long, very overdue homecoming that you never get to leave."
"Ah, leave the freak alone.", the other said. "He's not going anywhere. He'll have years to endure that kinda hospitality from us. Sytsevich, you want a bottled water or something before we book your ass?"
The Rhino merely snorted, making the two grown men jump, their weapons immediately trained. They knew it was unwise to try and taunt the supervillain, especially as his particularly dense exoskeleton suit was still attached. Generally, The Raft's matinence staff had to spend hours getting Sytsevich out of it after a heavy sedation, as the suit was so advanced that normal methods of removing it simply weren't possible for anyone but the wearer. But rather than malice, Rhino simply looked down, seemingly accepting of his fate.
"Nyet."Breathing a sigh of relief, the guards wordlessly prepared for docking on the upper deck of the prison, giving eachother a 'You-started-it' glance the entire time. What they didn't notice, however, was the subtle de-activation of the shock collar that had been keeping Rhino at their mercy. Sytsevich smiled to himself, still playing the part of defeated prisoner as the guards led him out, weapons at the ready.
"WITH ME, PRISONER! WITH ME!", an approaching third guard shouted. "YOU'RE TO KEEP YOUR HANDS VISIBLE AT ALL TIMES! YOU ARE CONSIDERED A CLASS FIVE THREAT, SO ANY MISCONDUCT ON YOUR PART WILL BE MET WITH SWIFT RETALIATION! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!"
Rhino raised his massive hands as he stepped out, the grin on his face growing wider.
"Certainly.", the mountain of muscle replied.
"Infact, it is something I greatly anticipate."
"Now I know what you're going to say, Peter, but my mind's already made up. It's time to move on."
Still feeling the bruises from yesterday's smackdown with The Grain Goliath, I try and hide the wince of pain as I take Aunt May's hand into mine and look into her eyes. Funnily enough, I kind of knew this day was always going to come. But despite telling myself otherwise, I guess I wasn't actually at the stage of acceptance where I was ready to hear it. With my engagement leading to an actual set of nuptiuals in the coming months, things slowing down at the Bugle, and my nightly spandex party patrols coming to a comfortable repetition of normality that involves more purse-snatching than bad guy brawling, this was bound to be the last big change at this stage of my life: in three months' time, May Parker will be the proud resident of some upstate apartment that's very far away from here, and this house - the one I was raised in, the one Uncle Ben died in, and the one I spent many nights tip-toeing on the roof of on my way home from keeping my secret identity a secret - is going to be given to me and Mary Jane as an early wedding present.
The thing is, I'm torn. While I am very grateful to be getting this, given that MJ and I barely fit into my current apartment without bumping elbows on the way to the one bathroom, it doesn't... feel right to be accepting it from her, after all the years that her and I both spent struggling to pay the darn hunk of brick off. I mean, the entire reason I became a photographer (of myself, but that's irrelevant) was to help May out with the bills after Uncle Ben passed. And then the years went by, I moved out to go to college, and we eventually pulled through all of the financial woes. Now she's leaving, and there's not a thing I can say - or even want to say - to really stop her.
"Firstly, pretty lady, I bet you a dollar that you have no earthly idea of what I was going to say.", I retort, kissing her on the forehead.
"And secondly, why now? I mean, I knew you weren't going to live here forever and I don't think my impending walk down the aisle has alot to do with it, all things considered. Are you sure you're ready for a move like this?"Chuckling to herself at my chivalry-is-not dead act, which always kills, she composes herself and takes my hand in hers, reversing the hand-holding scenerio that was already in place.
"Honestly, Peter, I was ready to move a long time ago. I just tried to tell myself that I was being selfish."I raise an eyebrow.
"Selfish?""I know, it's silly to think that way now, but I really did feel like I owed it to Ben - and to you - to stay here for the rest of my days. Just to hold onto the memories for as long as I could."A look of sadness comes over my face. I had absolutely no idea she felt like that. If I'd have known, I would have encouraged her to do whatever she felt she had to do a long time ago. Even though I'm not thrilled with the idea of being quite a bit more than an afternoon web-swing over from visiting, now, I would've understood. To be honest, I couldn't wait to get out of here when I did, and I was perfectly happy under this roof.
"But the more that time passed, the more that I realized that the memories we cherish will never leave us. Not really,", she goes on, wistfully.
"Watching you grow into the fine young man that you've become. All of those years that Ben and I had together. The friends we've made, the girls you were seeing..."I smile. Now
that's a topic I didn't expect to get breached.
"I mean, I wasn't that successful in the dating department...""Oh, shush. You had a gaggle of girls coming to the front door."A gaggle, huh? Not the term I'd have used, or even expected to hear aloud in a conversation, but we are a couple generations seperated...
"And that was even before you met Mary Jane. Why, I remember when you were sneaking off to speak to that Betty Brant woman when you were far too young to be associated with her in any way, much less in that way..."I'm sure that my face is turning bright red right now, but I'm so dumbstruck by the revelation that she even knew I was sneaking out to see Betty that everything else is basically white noise. I could be impaled by a Goblin Glider and probably not notice it. She really
knew about that?
"Not that I was ever judging, mind you.", she mercifully corrects.
"But I do remember you chasing quite a few girls before you went off to college. And of course, there was Gwendolyn. That poor, sweet child.""Yeah.", I say, solemnly.
"There isn't a day that goes by that I don't remember her, too."She places her other hand on mine, empathizing. We've both seen our share of loss, over the years. And we've both shared in it.
"Of course, dear. And nobody blames you for that. That was an awful way to lose someone, and given how close the two of you were, I doubt you've completely gotten over it. Wounds like that never truly heal. But the point is, you weren't always the wallflower that you claimed. And I loved watching you mature into the confident person that your uncle and I always believed you could be."Gratefully, I smile back. It's nice to let her think that I just naturally came to be that way, but the truth is, had it not been for the intervention of a genetically altered spider bite and an astonishing set of superpowers, I might still be fumbling over myself to try and talk to girls. The fact that I even managed to convince MJ to stay with me is a feat that I consider a heck of alot more impressive than beating up The Sinister Six singlehanded, any day of the week. Sometimes I wonder if being Spider-Man made me become a better Peter Parker, and sometimes I wonder if it was actually the reverse.
Then again, we're steering a little away from the main subject at hand. Not that I don't absolutely live for the opportunities to talk to my aging aunt, who's been like a mother to me since I was three, about the sordid details of my insane lovelife. But we were discussing the reasons behind her decisions to move, last I checked.
"I appreciate that, Aunt May, and believe me. You're the most unselfish person I've ever known, so don't ever think that you owed me anything by staying here."Staring at the photo of the three of us from when I was thirteen - me, her, and Uncle Ben - I smirk as fond memories of him come flooding back to me all at once. It gets a little easier to live with every day, but I won't deny that I miss him just as much as the night I lost him. And the guilt over how I lost him has never truly gone away, either. It's what gets me into that glorified onesie every time that someone's in trouble.
"But I still don't get it. You had years to make this decision, and yet now you're ready to move to... where did you say, Amsterdam?""Albany.", she corrects.
"Albany. Right.", I state, just realizing for the first time that she's talking about a 150 mile move.
"I guess I just... don't see the appeal in the timing. With the wedding coming up, I figured you'd want to be close by. And at your age, a move can be pretty daunting.""Oh, I'm not that old.", she argues.
"And as far as the wedding goes, you know me well enough to know that I'll be just as apart of that process as I would be if I were still right here, Peter."She sighs.
"But times change. And frankly, while it hasn't been easy to accept this, New York just isn't safe enough for someone like me to live in anymore. Not with those horrible 'super-criminals' running about, trying to hurt innocent people without a care in the world. And that dreadful Spider-Man...""Yeah... he's the scariest one, that's for sure.", I say just before I can bite my tongue.
"But I mean, you're still here, right? Nobody's going to knock this place down while I'm around. So if safety's your concern, you can..."Annnd... there it is. Immediately, the tingling at the base of my skull starts back up again, blaring like Ozzy Osborne trying to pass a kidney stone. Before I can properly scan my surroundings and make sure that I
haven't just made the most unfortunately timed proclamation in the history of the world, my phone goes off to the melody of 'The Itsy-Bitsy Spider'. Quickly pulling it from my pocket, I don't even bother to check who it is, knowing that my Spider-Senses are still flared up.
"Hello?""PARKER!", the voice of the Grim Reaper of fun himself - better known as J. Jonah Jameson, responds.
"WHAT ARE YOU, STUCK IN TRAFFIC ON THE ONE-OH-FIVE?! THAT BIG AND GRAY FREAK 'THE RHINO' JUST STARTED ATTACKING THE RAFT PRISON ISLAND! AND YOU'RE CHARTERING A FERRY OVER THERE AND GETTING PHOTOS OF IT, PRONTO!"My eyes widen. Rhino? Attacking The Raft? That's... admittedly bold, even for that cumbersome cueball of a creep. I look back towards Aunt May, who's worried, as she often is whenever I get these calls. I hate getting them infront of her, because she knows that it means that I have to go and do something dangerous. Thankfully she doesn't know exactly
how involved in these stories that I actually am.
"Uh, sure thing, JJ!", I stammer.
"Ferry. The Raft. Rhino. Got it. I'm on my way there.""DON'T WASTE TIME TELLING ME ABOUT YOUR TRAVEL PLANS, YOU MEANDERING MILLENNIAL!", he barks back.
"GET YOUR BUTT UP THERE AND GET ME A FULL PAGE SPREAD OR IT'S YOUR JOB! HELL, I'LL EVEN BET THAT BLASTED WEB-SPINNING TERRORIST IS MAKING HIS PRESCENCE KNOWN AS WE SPEAK! GET ME THOSE PICTURES, PARKER!"With a slam of his phone, our conversation is suddenly cut short.
Oh, Spider-Man's going to make an appearance alright, Jonah. He just hasn't made it there as timely as you've so very keenly predicted, given that he's still in Queens and trying to think of a million excuses to give to his Aunt for running off.
"Duty calls, Aunt May. Jonah wants me to take some pictures of a new mall opening or something.", I say with a laugh, trying to play off the actual danger.
"You know how ole' flat-top gets if I don't get just the right pose down before the ribbon's cut!""Peter,", she says, standing up with me.
"You and I both know that there's no mall opening in town."Pausing as I grab my camera, I look back at her, sheepishly.
"Would... you believe it if I told you it was some other harmless, danger-free zone that I'm blanking on?"She gives me the 'look'. The one that used to mean I was going to have to spend the rest of the week in my room for lying. Boy, do I not miss getting the 'look'. Finally, I look down and sling the camera over my shoulder.
"I'll... I'll try and be careful, alright?", I apologetically state.
"Believe me. It'll be in-and-out. Nothing I haven't done a million times before.""I know. And that's what worries me. You're always so quick to rush into danger..."She doesn't even know the half o the irony in that sentence.
"But I know it's your job. Still, I'll never stop worrying.""Well, think of it this way, pretty lady.", I begin, giving her a goodbye kiss on the cheek.
"In a few months' time, you won't have to hear any more of my excuses."She laughs.
"That's at least one positive, dear."Waving goodbye as I head out the door, I immediately leap over the side fence and race my way down the accompanying back alley that I used to use to begin my nightly swings into the city proper. Shedding my clothes, revealing the layer of red and blue underneath, I web up my duds and pull on the gloves, reach back, and slip the mask over my face. Sorry to do it to you, Aunt May...
THWIP!"But Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man's got a prison date!"
It's only until I'm in the air that I realize how profoundly of a weird way it was to put that.
Man. I pray to God that those aren't my famous last words.
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