Chapter 69

  Arc 6 - Ch 2: No More Quips?

  Date: Friday, June 10, 2011.

  Location: Queens, New York

  The imposter Spider-Man was knocked backward into the hallway by Peter Parker. A tense frontation in the narrow fines of Gwen Stacy's apartment ensued as Peter raced after the figure who had ihe sanctuary of his girlfriend's home.

  Peter lunged forward, cog back his fist to deliver a powerful blow. But as his knuckles shot toward the masked face of his oppo, they were caught in an iron grip that matched his strength. Peter's eyes widened in shock behind his mask. Since donning the red and blue suit months ago, Peter had faced all manner of criminals and vilins. He was aced to overp thugs ay crooks effortlessly with his enhanced abilities. But now, for the first time, he found himself evenly matched. Straining against the vice-like grip on his fist, he wondered how this ossible.

  Twisting his captured arm, Peter broke the impostor's hold and leaped into a backflip, nding in a crouch several feet away down the narrow hallway. The doppelgauro face him, mirr his stance. A tense silence desded, broken only by Peter and the faux Spider-Man's measured breathing.

  The imposter was a mirror image, a replica of Peter's e.

  "Who are you underh that mask?" Peter asked, finally breaking the tense silence.

  The doppelganger remained mute.

  Peter barely dodged the ining blow, the imposter's fist sailing past his ear. There was n, no tingliion of ining danger from his spider-sehe missed fist opened into a hook, catg Peter by the ned yanking him off bance. Before he could react, his oppo's knee smmed brutally into his gut.

  Peter doubled over with a pained gasp as the air rushed from his lungs. The world spun dizzily around him.

  Capitalizing oer's disorientation, the false hero csped his hands together, bringing them down in a hammer strike upoer's back. He crumpled to the floor with a resounding thud.

  The momeer hit the floor, he knew he was in trouble. Getting the wind knocked out of him was nothing new but this was different. As he y there, bruised and sug air, the full weight of the situation sank in. This was no two-bit vilin to be quickly webbed up and handed over to the cops.

  He didn't have long to reflect. Peter scrambled to rise but was too slow. The imposter's foot smmed into his ribs with crushing force, ung him through the air to crash through the bedroom wall in an explosion of pster and wood.

  Agony bzed through Peter's side as he tumbled into the Stacys' bedroom, the impact jarring his already battered body. Only a luding on their bed kept him in the fight. Gasping, he forced himself upright. He had no time to catch his breath before the door splintered inwards and the doppelgaalked through.

  Peter dove into a roll, narrowly avoiding a punch that shattered the nightstand behind him. He came up swinging but the double anticipated it, blog the blow. What followed was a dizzying exge of attacks. her gave ground as they traded devastating hits. They crashed through furniture aroyed the drywall, oblivious to everything but the singur goal of destroying their oppo.

  Each of the doppelganger's blows was aimed to exploit every opening and eter dower fought back gamely, matg his double's attacks. But it quickly became clear that the imposter's aggressive tactid sheer physical power pushed him to his limits. Fists a nded with meaty thuds that echoed off the walls of the demolished room. The faux Spider-Man unched himself towards Peter, twisting his body to deliver a spinning kick aimed directly at his head. Peter narrowly ducked the strike, rolling away with the agility that had always been his trademark. But no sooner had he avoided the kick than he was relentlessly forced ba the defensive.

  The battle raged wildly around the demolished room, possessions and debris scattering as they collided. The doppelganger aimed a crushing blow as he desded, ohat Peter barely mao block despite summoning all his strength. The impact resohrough Peter's arms, reverberating through his bones.

  He found himself locked in a desperate battle against an imposter wearing his e and wielding his strength. The false Spider-Man unleashed powerful blows that Peter struggled to defend against. Peter dodged and blocked on reflex alone as the doppelganger pressed his advantage relentlessly.

  Searg for an opening, some way to shift the flow of the fight, Peter's terattacks grew increasingly desperate.

  In a moment of inspiratioer aimed his wrist, hoping to immobilize his foe. With a flick, he webbed the imposter's foot to the floor. Victory seemed at hand as the doppelgahrashed against the unyielding webs. He charged, ready to capitalize on the opening.

  But the false Spider-Man possessed shog strength.

  He tore his leg free from the floorboards, ripping a k of wood with it, still entangled with the webbing.

  Peter's haymaker met oy air as the doppelganger spun and unleashed a powerful roundhouse kick. The blow caught Peter full in the chest, ung him across the room to crash painfully into the building's outer brick wall. The kick shattered the remains of floorboards stuck to his foot, freeing him pletely.

  Before Peter could rise, the imposter advanced, wielding his web-shooting powers in a mockery of Peter's failed tactic. The false Spider-Man bound one of Peter's hands to the brick wall behind him. Peter struggled in vain against the imposter's webs, desperate to free himself, but the false Spider-Man was relentless. With a quick flick of his wrist, he fired more webbing, eng the free haer had been using to try and free his trapped one.

  Now, Peter found himself with his wrists bound together and still attached to the brickwork.

  The webs formed a tight inescapable bond, like handcuffs made of the stro cable. The webbing was too resilient, but Peter refused to submit. Brag his feet against the wall, every muscle in his body straining, letting out a guttural yell as he fought against the adhesive. With a final heave, the webs tore free from the wall, though his hands remained hopelessly bound together in webbing.

  With his hands still tied, Peter had to adapt.

  As the false Spider-Man rushed ier backfliped, narrowly avoiding a knockout blow. He nded in a crouch, bound hands held defensively in front of him. The doppelganger pressed the advantage, raining down blows on the vulnerable hero. Peter blocked and dodged as best he could, but his restraints slowed him.

  And theer heard it. A low chuckle emerged from his oppo.

  The doppelganger was ughing at him.

  Peter's predit amused him as he tinued his beat dow his jaw, ign the pain. He had to find a way to turn this around, and fast.

  The blows rained dowlessly upoer Parker, punishing him mercilessly. He could only blod dodge as best he could against the savage onsught. But the restraints binding his arms slowed him, aer found himself being battered like a training dummy.

  The doppelganger's low, cruel chuckle echoed with each devastating strike as he amused himself with Peter's helplessness. Jaw ched, Peter ighe blossoming agony and focused.

  In a moment of desperatioer resorted to a cssic Spider-Man tactic...

  He taunted his foe.

  "Why don't you take off that mask?" he goaded, affeg a mog bravado. "Let's see how pretty you are uhere."

  The barb momentarily caught the doppelganger off guard, his rhythm faltering. Peter had been hoping for just su opening. Seizing the opportunity, he put his pn into motion as the imposter roared in rage, charging straight for him. Even bound as he eter's reflexes took over. He leaped over the oning doppelganger, exeg a tight ied half-twist in midair.

  As he nded directly behind his foe, Peter snaked his bound arms around the attacker's ned locked his legs around the torso in a vice-like grip.

  The sudden grappling hold shifted the fight's dynamitirely. Leveraging his strength, Peter squeezed, attempting to choke the doppelganger into submission.

  The doppelgahrashed violently, seeking to dislodge Peter. But he g on with relentless determination, his survival instincts overing exhaustion and pain. The two grappled furiously. But where the doppelganger was driven by rage, Peter was fueled by grit and desperation. For now, it was enough to keep him locked on.

  Peter Parker's arms burned with exertion. The imposter's struggles grew weaker, its movements more sluggish, until finally, it went limp ier's grasp. Warily, he loosened his grip, ready to react if it showed any signs of fight left.

  But the imposter remaiill.

  Peter untangled himself with slow, pained movements, his body battered aen from the brawl. As he pulled away, the heavy silehat had desded on the room was shattered by a raw, anguished sob.

  His head jerked up. Gwen.

  Ign the screaming protests of his abused muscles, Peter limped urgently toward the living room. The sight that awaited made his heart ch. Gwe on the floor, cuts and bruises marring her skin, cradling the lifeless body of her father. Captain Stacy had been impaled by a wood beam from the a et when the imposter knocked him through it. His blood stained Gwen's hands as she clutched him.

  Peter moved clrief and guilt settling heavily on his shoulders. He had failed. The captain was gone, leaving behind a yawning chasm of loss evidenced in Gwen's wreng sobs. Peter's bound hands prevented him from reag out to offer any fort.

  There was nothing he could do.

  Captain Stacy was dead.

  And at that moment, standing uselessly nearby, Peter had never felt more powerless.

  The grief that permeated the room alpable, a heavy weight that pressed down on them all. Gwen turned her tear-streaked face toeter, lips parting as if to speak when her eyes went wide with arm. That subtle shift in her expression was the only warning before disaster struck.

  Without his spider-sense, and dulled by exhaustioer reacted too slowly. The imposter behind him seized the opportunity and smmed a brutal blow against the back of Peter's head. Stunned, Peter could do nothing as the false Spider-Man unleashed a barrage of punches directed at his face.

  The room had been filled with quiet m only moments before. Now there was only the siing thud of flesh striking flesh as the imposter ruthlessly attacked. Then, silence desded, broken only by a chilling ugh from the fake hero.

  "I 't believe you fell for that," the pretender jeered, his voice dripping with cruel mockery. "Pying dead has to be the oldest tri the book." The arrogand disdain in his words cut through the heavy silence.

  Peter y unmoving, finally succumbing to the repeated blows. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth to pool on the floor. The imposter stood over him, fists still ched, as Gwen looked on, helplessly horrified.

  The impostor Spider-Man stood over the unscious Peter.

  "Who's prettier now, Peter?" he sneered, his voice dripping with pt.

  "Think that'll heal in time fraduation pictures?" His ughter was a chilling sound, undersg his brutal as, and the disdain in his words.

  "Oh, no more quips?"

  The imposter waited for a response, but when none came, he finished, "Didn't think so."

  Across the room, Gwen Stacy observed the horrific se unfolding before her in helpless horror. It was like a nightmare made real. But even as she watched, Gwen could feel her strength rapidly fading. The adrenalihat had sustained her through the initial shock was gone, leaving her armingly lightheaded.

  Gng down, Gwen saw the crimson trail left in her wake as she had crawled across the gss-strewn floor of the living room. The realization of her dire situation came too te. Darkness crept into the edges of her vision. With a soft sigh, she slumped to the floor.

  Kaine surveyed the aftermath, gleeful, but his celebration of triumphing over Peter faded when he realized noone remaio join in. The still forms of Mr. Stad Peter y where they had fallen. And Gwen...

  Kaine's demeanor shifted as he took in Gwen's dition.

  Her blonde hair fanned out, her body was limp and unmoving. She bled from multiple cuts, but e ceration on her quadricep was the worst. The sight pierced through his frenzied haze in a stark realization.

  "Oh no. Gwen. What did they do to you?" he murmured. His voice was ced with sudden , trasting his previous brutality. His mind scrambled for justification. "This was their fault," he said to himself. "If Peter hadn't e, if your father wasn't home, none of this would have happened." The twisted logic absolved him, or so he thought.

  Kaine approached Gwen's prone form, movements now gentle, iions shifted. Carefully lifting her, he whispered a promise, "Don't wwen, I'll save you."

  In his mind, he had recast himself as the hero, willfully ign the grim truth that his as had directly led to her peril. His mind spun as he tried to figure out what to do . He was no doctor, and Dr. Warren was the only one he knew. However, Warren specialized iiot medie, and Kaine khe stist would likely lock him up forever if he brought Gwen ba this dition.

  Especially after what had happened with his st b assistant.

  Leaving her on a hospital doorstep briefly crossed Kaine's mind, but the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. It seemed too detached, impersonal, after everything that had transpired between them. As much as he hated to admit it, guilt was creeping in, crag his facade. In his indecision, Kaihoughts circled back to Peter Parker against his will. What would Peter do in this situation? Who would he turn to? The answer came grudgingly.

  Tyson.

  Parker's friend had proven reliable in crises before. Swallowing his pride, Kaine realized Tyson was his best option to get Gwen the help she needed, even if it meant relying on someone he sidered an adversary.

  Having made his difficult choice, Kaine held Gwen as gently and carried her to the window. With the injured girl secure in his arms, he unched himself out into the night, web-slinging across the city toward downtown and Tyson's apartment.

  The st rays of the setting sun paihe evening sky in vibrant hues as Kaine arrived at the baly of Tyson's downtoartment with the limp form of Gwen still cradled carefully in his arms. During their journey across the city, she had not stirred, and her tinued unsciousness added another yer of worry to Kaine's already anxious state of mind.

  Finding the apartment dark, Kaine's initial knock went unanswered. Growing frustrated and desperate, he pounded on the gss door until it shattered. The sound echoed through the silent interior.

  "That ought to get his attention," he muttered, unaware of the irony that his method of seeking help was tinged with the same aggression that had defined his earlier as.

  Stepping into the dark apartment, Kaine's eyes struggled to adjust to the ck of light. Making his way to the entryway, he found the switd flicked it on.

  "Tyson?" he called out tentatively.

  Only silence greeted him.

  The apartment was empty.

  Tyson's absence left Kaine frustrated, the person he had relutly pinned his hopes on was o be found. He paced the length of Tyson's darkened apartment while Gwen y unscious in the ter of the living room, he entrance.

  "Why does Peter get it so easy?" Kaine burst out, his voice ragged with frustration. The empty room offered no reply but silence. He had hoped to enlist Tyson's aid with Gwen, but the man was o be found. Kaihe bitter sting of abando. Once agaier seemed to have all the support and resources he could ask for, while Kaine was left to fend for himself.

  Kaihoughts spiraled downward into rese. Tyson's absence was no act. The man was spiring against him, i on stealing Gwen away.

  "I k," he growled under his breath. "He's trying to take her from me." Rage boiled up inside Kaine, blinding hot.

  With a wordless cry, he shed out, smashing his fist into the nearby terrarium.

  Gss exploded outward, shards skittering across the hardwood floor with a musical tinkling. Kaine's chest heaved as he stared down at the wreckage, but the act of destru did little to calm the storm inside him. He was adrift, lost in turbulent waters of anger, jealousy, and despair. Somewhere beh it all y for the unscious girl at his feet. But as Kaine resumed his pag, muttering to himself, his thoughts were ed by the injustice of his plight.

  He had trusted Tyson, and ted on his aid in saving Gwen, only to find himself abandoned in his hour of need. Now she y unscious and helpless while Kaine faced impossible odds alone. He muttered angrily to himself, cursing Tyson's hat backstabbing coward had probably phis betrayal from the start.

  He wao leave Kaio fend for himself. So be it.

  But there would be a price to pay.

  "If Tyson refuses to help me save Gwen, then I'll make him regret it," Kaine growled, his voice ced with cold determination. "I'll take away everything he loves. His home, his possessions, everything."

  Kaine's gaze fell upon the ruins of the gss terrarium.

  Even the empty fish tank must have meant something.

  He looked around realizing that this apartme a great deal to Tyson. He remembered having Thanksgiving dinner here when Tyson had gathered those closest to him.

  With vicious satisfa, he set about destroying everything in sight, overturning furniture, tearing paintings from the walls, flinging gssware and valuables. The once pristine suite became a war zoterly demolished by Kaine's urained rage. His message was clear.

  Tyson had failed him, and now he would lose everything.

  When the suite y in shambles, Kaine paused to admire his handiwork. Then his gaze fell upon Gwen's motionless form, and sadness pierced his heart.

  "I tried to help," he whispered. "It's their fault, not mine. I tried to be the hero."

  With a resigned sigh, Kaiurned and headed for the baly. Without looking back, Kaine fired a webline and swung away into the night.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Waiters in crisp uniflided between tables, as Tyson and Natasha ehe restaurant ihe Four Seasons. After Stark's afternoon ceremony, they settled on dessert. They were led to a secluded booth in a far er of the dining room. The table was adorned with fine a and delicate gssware that caught the soft light. Their presence was marked only by the gentle k of silverware and murmured versation, the intimate setting gave a measure of privacy from the other patrons.

  After pg their order, and receiving their drinks, Natasha leaned in. "SHIELD has reactivated Project PEGASUS," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Barton was assigned as one of the guards." Tyson raised an eyebrow, at Natasha's revetion.

  "PEGASUS had been shut down for years. Whatever they've got going on, it's important enough t in Hawkeye as extra security," she tinued. "This lines up with what you said was going to happen."

  Tyson lifted the wine gss, his thoughts turning inward as he swirled the ruby liquid pensively. A distant look clouded his mismatched eyes, betraying that his mind arsing the implications of Natasha's revetion.

  This was what had been weighing heavily on her mind.

  "Yoing to leave," he stated, his voice tinged with resigned certainty. It wasn't a question. Tyson had already accepted the iable truth, knowihoughts after their earlier kiss.

  Natasha felt pelled to expin her decision, wanting to y out her rationale. "You said that when things go down, I'm on a mission, undercover. Fury just offered me a mission to iigate stolen Stark Industries ons in Russia. I don't have to take it..." she trailed off, torween her sense of duty and her desire to stay.

  Tyson interrupted softly, "But it tracks with my vision." His quiet statement aowledged the e between what he knew would happen and her new assig, validating her ination to accept it.

  His mind raced for alternatives, unwilling to let go so easily. His voice carried hope as he proposed, "The school year is almost over. I could e to Russia for the summer."

  But Natasha slowly shook her head, red curls boung in dissent. "That's sweet, but you have too much to do here," she tered gently.

  Uerred, Tyson persisted, "Felicia aeam hahe acquisition of Trask Industries."

  Yet Natasha quickly pointed out the fw in his pn. "Felicia already has her hands full running your other operations. Plus, there are Mirage's shows that only you put on."

  Tyson found al to that, his role as Mirage was irrepceable. "Will you go after Dreykov now that you know he's alive?" he asked, "Or look for Yelena?"

  Natasha's gaze dropped to the table, her firag the rim of her wine gss. He leaned ba his seat, studying Natasha's face. He could see the flict brewing behind her emerald eyes, the struggle between duty and personal desires. The mention of Dreykov and Yelena seemed to stir something deep within her, a mix of emotions flickered across her face.

  "I could," she said slowly, lifting her eyes to meet Tyson's. "But it would be years earlier than you said I do." Tyson nodded, uanding. Yet he could see the longing in Natasha's eyes, the desire tht wrongs ae with her sister. Natasha took a sip of her wine, using the moment to gather her thoughts. "It's not just about timing," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "If I go after Dreykov now, I might not be prepared. If she's being trolled, like you mentioned, I don't have a way to break that."

  Tyson listened ily, noting the subtle shifts in Natasha's body nguage. Her shoulders tensed slightly, and her grip on the wine gss tightened.

  "There's also the risk of ging too much," she tinued. "If I aow, based on what you've told me, who knows how it might affect everything else? The future you've seen could be pletely altered."

  Tyson nodded, aowledging the validity of her s. He reached across the table, his hand c hers in a gesture of support. "It's your decision, Nat. Whatever you choose, I'll back you up."

  Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, grateful for his uanding. "I appreciate that," she said softly. "But I think... I think I o let things py out as they're meant to. At least for now."

  "Or I could e with you," he suggested, "Fair shot I could override the mind trol on Yelena. Or at least mitigate it."

  Natasha sidered his words, touched by his offer of support. Yet she slowly shook her head.

  "You o stay here," she replied firmly, though not unkindly.

  Tyson searched her face, looking for any sign of doubt behioic features. But Natasha's mind was made up.

  "Alright," he ceded, though his torayed his lingering . "But the offer stands if you ge your mind. Just call me."

  Natasha's lips quirked in a hint of a smile. She reached across the table, her hand c his in a brief, meaningful squeeze.

  "I know," she said softly. "And thank you. But this is something I o do on my own. I know I fix this, but if you e, who knows what will happen."

  Tyson turned his hah hers, the prote of his gloves allowed their fio iwine. "I uand," he murmured. And though relut, he did uand her o face this alone, and he couldn't bme her.

  Natasha's closing remark sealed the argument.

  "Besides, after graduation, you promised the girl on the phohat you'd hang out."

  Tyson's frown deepe the reminder. He had indeed promised Jubilee that they'd hang out post-graduation. Even though he'd invited her te's debut show in April, and spent the day with her in Monaco, Jubilee's excitement for their post-graduation pns alpable even through the phoyson knew he couldn't disappoint her.

  He slumped ba his chair as the weight nation pressed down upon his shoulders. "What about us?" he asked.

  Her eyes, usually so guarded, flickered with vulnerability. "You know there isn't another person who I feel for the way I do about you," she fessed, but she pressed on. "From my memories, you know how missions go."

  Her gaze drifted away, lost in the ghosts of her past. The silehat followed was deafening, filled with the weight of their unspoken fears.

  It was Natasha who finally broke the silence. Her voice carried a note of resolve as she stated, "There will be time to figure things out whehing is settled and we know we're all safe." A hint of optimism threaded through her words. "o rock the boat so soon... Besides, if your vision holds, I'll return ihan a year."

  "So, where are you taking the girl from the phone for your date? Some grand adventure?" Natasha asked. Her question carried a pyful lilt as the aroma of their freshly arrived desserts enveloped the table.

  Tyso out a weary sigh, his broad shoulders slumping in resignation. He didn't o voice his thoughts aloud, his body nguage spoke volumes.

  Natasha reached out to grasp his rge hand in her slender one, a reassuring squeeze. She leaned in, pnting a brief, tender kiss on his cheek. The fleeting tact created a bridge, allowing Natasha's emotions to flow into Tyson's mind, enveloping him in a cascade of her thoughts and feelings.

  "It's okay. Everything will be okay," she murmured. Her assurance wasn't just empty ptitudes. Tyson could sehe ear vi behind her words and see her stoic acceptance of their challengiy within her memories.

  Natasha had mastered the art of partmentalization, a necessary skill in espionage and covert ops. It was her way of g, of preserving some small sembnce of normalcy. And with her kiss, Tyson too could partmentalize his feelings. He took a moment to gather his scattered thoughts before responding. Though difficult, he khat going their separate ways was the best option for their futures.

  Shaking his head slightly, he finally answered her earlier question, traces of humor now tempering his voice. "You don't have to refer to her as 'the girl on the phone'. You met her at the opening for House of M, remember?"

  "I know," Natasha replied, "but it's nostalgie to tease you about her like this."

  Tyson's eyes glinted with amusement as Natasha gently ribbed him about his mysterious phone panion when she was his teacher and spying on him.

  "She's got this fasation with the underground rave se tely," he expined, "Wants to check out one of those pop-up, word-of-mouth dance parties. The kind that doesn't pay much attention to things like age limits if you know how to find them."

  Natasha said, "Ah, to be young and rebellious. I practically hear the muted thuds leaking from some abandoned warehouse oy's outskirts."

  He rolled his eyes. "You're sounding like my teacher agai, you'll tell me stories about how ba your day…" Tyson joked before tinuing, "I told her we could hit up any club iy. I'd use my abilities to bypass the lines and slide right into the VIP se if that's what she was after. I even told her we could meet Jay-Z at the 40/40 club." He shook his head. "But no, she has her heart set on this rave. Wao pn the whole night herself... almost like a date."

  He let out a small huff of ughter at the paradox. "It's funny that you and my ex call it a date, but Jubilee? She refuses to put that bel on it."

  Natasha took a thoughtful sip of her wine, pting his words. There robing note in her voice when she finally asked. "You don't think she's actually into you in that way?"

  "It's not that simple," he crified, "I've borrowed Jubilee's powers before, so there's no doubt she's attracted to me. I felt it through her memories."

  He let out a small huff. "But there's more to it. She's outgoing, sure, but there's a shyness buried ioo, a hesitation that holds her back... And then there's her friendship with Illyana to sider. Maybe she's trying to navigate that, to respect what the two of us once had."

  Natasha listened ily, focused on Tysohe rim of her wine gss as she took a thoughtful sip. The crimson liquid left a faint stain on her full lips as she set the gss down with a soft k against the table. There robing note in her voice when she finally responded.

  "Retionships, especially those just starting or rekindling from the past, be plex," she said. "Perhaps Jubilee is being cautious, not just out of respect for your history with Illyana, but also due to the uainty of stepping into what might feel like uncharted emotional territory for her." Natasha leaned forward, her elbows resting on the white tablecloth. "It could be lingering respect for your past love, as you said, or even uainty about where she truly stands. Not just with you, but within the broader text of your mutual friends. Voig how she feels aloud could alter your friendship in ways she might not be ready for."

  With a small shake of her head, red locks swayily across her shoulders, Natasha tinued, "However, uanding her feelings through borrowed memories and navigating them in real life are two very different things. It's ohing knowing how someo in the past or is feeling in the moment. Quite ao truly uand why they act the way they do."

  "Your power spoils you. The rest of us don't have the luxury of knowing how everyone else thinks and feels with a siouch."

  "I know, I know," he sighed. "It's just... With my abilities, I read people so easily. Their thoughts and feelings all e through crystal clear with oouch."

  Natasha took another sip of wine before responding. "Perhaps instead of fog on bels, you should trate on what you and Jubilee truly want from each other," she said pinly. "Direct, ho unication cut through the most tangled webs." Setting her gss down, Natasha met his gaze. "Remember, the bravest thing in aionship is to let your true feelings be known."

  "I had to practically drag a universal threat out of you just to get your real feelings into the open."

  Natasha regarded him frankly. "Maybe with Jubilee, you step out from behind your abilities for a night. Just be Tyson. No powers, no expectations. And see where hoy takes you both."

  He let out a shh, shaking his head. "How you give such good retionship advice?"

  Natasha's mouth quirked up. "What I say? Years of training i of reading people." She lifted her gss in a mock toast.

  Tyso his gss down, his rge hand dwarfing the delicate stem. He leaned forward, his broad shoulders hung slightly as he met her gaze.

  "Why are you tellihis?" he asked.

  Natasha's expression softened. "Because I care about you, Tyson," she said, "And I want you to be happy, even when I'm not around."

  Her words struck him with ued force.

  He searched her faoting the siy in her eyes and the slight tension in her jaw that betrayed her flicted emotions. She tinued, "You're not the impulsive, unsure boy who robbed the Federal Reserve. But there is still so much ahead that will test your limits."

  "You showed me the future. You showed me my death."

  Tyson opened his mouth to protest, to remihat they would fight to prevent her fate, but she pressed a fio his lips, halting his words. In that brief tact, she shared fshes of her innermost thoughts; feelings of acceptand resolve.

  "I know," she tinued, dropping her hand. "But the truth remains. I may die. And if my life is the price to save tless others, I will pay it gdly. It's my choiake." Her jaw tensed with determination. "You said it's the choice I did make. It's the one I will make again if needed... And when that moment es, you will let me make it."

  She emphasized, "You will let me go."

  Tyson shook his head, unwilling to accept that sario, but no words escaped him.

  Natasha's gaze hardened. "You will." She repeated.

  "Even if it's you holding my arm as I hang over that cliff," she stated with finality. Then her features softened once more.

  "And if that day es... I don't want you to face the future alone."

  Tyson was in awe of her ability to challenge him while plete support. "Thank you for your hoy," he said finally, his voice thick with suppressed emotion. "And for believing i means more than you know."

  "Don't think I missed how you didn't say, Yes, or Okay, there." Natasha pointed out, before her lips curved into a coy, almost pyful smile as she stated matter-of-factly, "Of course I believe in you. And besides, I don't know why yetting all emotional about this. I'm not even yirlfriend."

  Her teasing words and sly expression briefly lifted Tyson's somber mood, drawing a chuckle from his throat. Her ability to read him and kly when he needed a bit of lightness never ceased to impress him. With just a few precisely chosen words, she had made whatever challenges awaited seem far away.

  As the waiter cleared the remnants of dessert from their table, Tyson asked with a hint ret. "So, when do you leave?" He tried to sound nont, but there was an unmistakable wistfulness in the question that he couldn't ceal.

  "Tomorrow," she replied bluntly, the single word revealing the fleeting nature of their time together.

  Tyson looked at her ily, his mismatched eyes searg her face as he asked the obvious follow-up, "So tonight is your st night in New York?"

  Natasha's gaze smoldered like emerald embers, veying the promise of the night ahead. Her lips curled sensuously, hinting at the delights to e. She lifted her wine gss and fihe burgundy liquid iion. The resonant k of empty gss meeting table punctuated the sultry exge.

  "Yes," she purred, her voice low and throaty. "Do you want to spend it talking in this restaurant?"

  The invitation ione was unmistakable. Tyson needed no further persuasion. He left a generous gratuity oablecloth, not waiting for a check. Taking Natasha's hand, he gently pulled her to her feet, uncealed desire sm in his mismatched eyes.

  Her rich, melodic ughter filled the space between them as he led her to the elevator, exuding an intoxig joy and thrill at the prospect of the night ahead. As the doors slid closed, the plexities of their lives faded into the background, and all that existed was the passion of the present moment.

  Author's Note

  I sidered rew Arc 6 so that Chapter 69 would be a lemons chapter. But it just didn't work ht. It will forever remain a missed opportunity and I apologize sincerely.

  Behind the Ses

  - Chapters 68-70 were drafted as a single chapter sihey happen throughout a siernoon. But they o be split duriing as it was far too long. I debated heavily which of these ses to start this chapter with. Ultimately I decided to leave them set 'mostly' ologically. The order seen here is the inal se order from the first draft. I did think it flowed better as one long chapter, but by splitting them I could tinue posting weekly chapters. Otherwise, you'd get one long one followed by a one-month gap before the chapter.

  Support Plug

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  For Arc 5, every chapter had its own cover image.

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