Chapter 72
Arc 6 - Ch 5: Graduation
Date: Friday, June 24, 2011.
Location: Forest Hills, Queens, New York
Peter packed his backpack, including a nice set of clothes and his graduation gown. Hoisting it onto his back, he went down to the kitchen where the mouth-watering aroma of sizzling eggs greeted him. His aunt May stood at the stove, watching as her nephew entered.
"Good morning, honey," she said, her voice layered with years of affection. "I see you're up early. Happy graduation day."
Peter crossed the kitchen and kissed his Aunt May on the cheek before grabbing a plate from the cabinet. He scooped a generous portion of eggs onto two slices of crisp toast, assembling a breakfast sandwich. As he sat across from his aunt, May couldn't resist a glance at the overstuffed backpack leaning against his chair. It bulged at the seams, barely contained. She observed, "My, that seems quite a load for your big day, Peter."
A flicker of guilt passed through Peter's eyes, but he covered it with a casual shrug as he bit into the sandwich. "Oh, you know, Aunt May, just a few extra things I might need for graduation."
Peter's aunt studied him with a skeptical raise of her eyebrow as he sat across from her at the table. "Oh? I find that hard to believe, Peter. You've been going out a lot lately, and I can't help but worry. Are you sure everything is okay?"
Though her tone was gentle, Peter could detect the concern in his aunt's voice. He knew she only asked because she cared so deeply for him, and he hated to cause her any distress. With sincerity, he met her gaze. "Everything is fine, Aunt May. I promise."
May searched Peter's face, looking for any hint of deception. With a soft sigh, she nodded. Pushing for more information would be fruitless if he wasn't ready to confide in her. "Alright, Peter. I'll take your word for it. But please, don't be late for your graduation. It's an important day, and I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"I won't, Aunt May," Peter vowed, "I'll be there."
He stood, quickly finishing the last bites of his breakfast sandwich. Slinging the overstuffed backpack over his shoulder, he started for the door. But he paused and turned back to face his aunt, who watched him leave with a complex blend of love and uncertainty in her eyes.
"I love you, Aunt May," Peter said. At those words, he saw the doubts in May's expression melt into a warm glow of pride.
"I know, Peter," she replied thickly. "And I love you too."
With a gentle nod and a last lingering glance, Peter left. He strode down the alley a few blocks from his home. Shucking his street clothes revealed the red and blue of his Spider-Man costume underneath. The fabric clung to him like a second skin as he secured his bulging backpack to his back. With a flick of his wrist, webbing shot out and adhered to a nearby building. Peter launched himself upwards, webslinging across the city toward Manhattan. His destination was a small park on the island's southern end where his high school graduation would be later that morning. He planned on confining his patrol to the lower half of Manhattan so he could stay close.
As he swung between buildings, his mind drifted back to that night. He could still see Gwen's anguished face as she knelt over her father's lifeless body, and could still feel the bruising impacts of the imposter's blows. The memories ignited a simmering anger within him. Making matters worse, reports continued to stream in of a more violent Spider-Man matching the imposter's description. Peter had to be ready to confront him again, though protecting the city seemed more daunting than ever with a ruthless doppelganger on the loose. And there was Gwen to consider, still vulnerable should the fake decide to target her. The memory of Captain Stacy's funeral stung Peter. He could still see the faces of Gwen's family so clearly, and Gwen's most of all. For a moment, her eyes had held accusation, blaming him for her loss. Later she had denied feeling that way, but the guilt still clawed at Peter's heart. He had failed to stop the imposter and her family had paid the price.
Perched high on a rooftop, Peter was lost in a tangled knot of guilt and confusion. Could he still call himself a hero when those he cared for still got hurt? And if this false Spider-Man was set on harming others while disguised as himself, how could Peter be the hero he wanted to be?
With a flick of his wrist, Peter secured his overstuffed bag to the side of a skyscraper. Then he leapt from his perch, web lines catching and launching him forward into the city. However heavy his thoughts, Spider-Man had to be there when needed. The people of this city counted on him.
The wind lashed Peter Parker fiercely as he crouched atop the pinnacle of the Empire State Building. Restless thoughts swirled within his mind as turbulent as the gusts buffeting his body. His gaze fixed northward upon the sharp angles of Oscorp Tower, its jagged peaks knifing the skyline like an angular crown. To his right loomed the softer lines of the MetLife Building, its upper floors shrouded under construction tarps as the edifice transitioned into the newly christened Stark Tower. Though the sounds of the city rose from below, Peter's spider-sense remained silent. The city, it seemed, was more occupied with its daily commute than committing crimes.
Peter considered starting the swing south toward his graduation ceremony. His phone was vibrating in his pocket. Probably Gwen or Aunt May calling. But then a flash of crimson at the edge of his vision seized his attention. Something moved between the buildings on the west side with eerie familiarity.
"It can't be," Peter mumbled to himself. But as he focused intently in the direction of the Hudson River, he glimpsed the figure arcing gracefully between structures. Peter's pulse quickened. It was the imposter.
His grip on the skyscraper's ledge tightened fiercely. He could not allow the impersonator to terrorize the city any longer. Launching himself off the Empire State Building into the open air, the cityscape blurred into streaks of color as he rocketed westward, propelling himself toward the fake web-slinger.
Peter's gaze followed the figure as it swung and leaped over the rooftops. It was heading in his general direction, not having noticed him yet. But then he realized the doppelganger was following a black figure. A motorcycle sped eastward below, the rider leaning low against the wind. Though the distance made identification difficult, Peter knew in his gut who it was.
Mirage.
His earlier resolve wavered at the thought that the imposter could be following Tyson. Was Tyson their next target? Would they ambush his friend as they had his girlfriend?
Peter closed in on the imposter, and he saw the costume was different from the red and blue of his own. The imposter finally noticed Peter's approach and changed directions, breaking off from following Mirage to swing northward.
Peter cursed under his breath but did not hesitate to pursue.
The imposter took long, sweeping arcs between the buildings. Peter had to push himself to keep up. He tried to anticipate the imposter's movements, but they were too erratic, too unpredictable.
Peter swung even faster, narrowing the gap between them. He finally caught up to them in East Harlem, far north of where the chase began. The imposter flipped and spun midswing to fire another webline, this one aimed directly at Peter. Peter dodged it but had to wrap his webline around a nearby lamppost. It yanked him off course making him fall behind. Peter cursed as the imposter took advantage of his distraction to swing even further ahead.
Peter couldn't let the imposter escape. He had to stop them, no matter what.
He swung faster and faster until he was almost level with the imposter. Reaching out, he fired a webline, hoping to catch the figure off guard.
But the imposter was ready. They twisted in midair, avoiding Peter's web and firing one of their own.
He couldn't dodge in time. The webline wrapped around Peter's chest, pulling him back, and knocking him off course. He tumbled through the air, barely able to control his descent. He hit the ground hard, the impact jarring his bones. He lay there for a moment, stunned and disoriented.
The imposter landed next to him. Peter quickly rose to his feet, remembering how the imposter had beaten him while he was down in their last confrontation. But this time the imposter didn't attack him with unrestrained aggression.
Peter blinked in shock as he took in the figure before him. This imposter was not the same one he had grappled with previously. The costume was all crimson, save for a small golden triangle on the chest. That chest left him stunned.
This Spider-Man was no man at all, but a woman.
Her ample bosom and shapely hips made that plain enough, though the narrow waist cinched between them left no doubt. She had cropped brown hair and didn't wear a full mask. Only a delicate domino mask barely concealed her identity.
She tilted her head, studying him as he stood wary and defensive. "Why are you coming after me?" she asked.
Peter did not lower his guard. "I thought you were the one who attacked me. But you're a woman… It wasn't you, was it?"
"No," she replied.
Peter pressed on, unrelenting. "Why were you tailing Mirage?"
The Spider-Woman grew defensive, her full lips pressing into a line. "I was going to introduce myself. Mind your own business, Spider-Man."
Peter fired back accusing, "My business is Spider-Man, and you're the second faker I've run across. Who are you and why are you copying me?"
She drew herself up, her eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not a copy of you. I'm me."
Peter had an unfortunate tendency to let his mouth run away with him, and his latest quip seemed to have struck a sensitive nerve with the female imposter before him. Sensing an advantage, he pressed further, taunting her.
"What's wrong, girl?" he jeered. "You're sending me some mixed messages here. I can't quite figure you out. You've got a costume just like mine. You were following my friend back there. So what's your deal?"
The imposter shifted, her posture radiated danger, hands clenching into fists at her sides as she glared venomously at Peter. When she spoke, her voice was a low growl promising violence.
"Call me 'girl' One. More. Time. And so help me..."
Despite the threat, Peter interrupted the imposter's tirade. "You aren't a girl?" he asked, unable to keep the skepticism from his tone. He held his hands mockingly up against his chest as if he were holding up a pair of non-existent breasts.
When Peter curled his fingers in a squeezing gesture, the imposter launched herself at him with sudden, startling speed, one fist already cocked back and aimed squarely at his face. Only Peter's enhanced reflexes saved him, allowing him to dodge the blow at the very last second. The imposter landed gracefully, poised on the balls of her feet, eyes blazing with unrestrained fury as she glared at the costumed hero. With another burst of speed, she hurled herself at Peter again. He called upon every ounce of his agility to stay a half-step ahead of her relentless assault, dodging and weaving desperately to avoid her strikes.
In a brief opening, Peter lashed out with a punch, only to have the imposter dodge it, showcasing reflexes that matched his own. With each passing moment, Peter realized this fight was unlike any he had faced before, except when fighting the other imposter. She was his equal in speed, agility, and fighting skills. Still, Peter knew he could not keep dodging forever without the assistance of his spider-sense which had again failed him.
Peter let loose a powerful kick, aiming for the Spider-Woman's midsection. But to his astonishment, she effortlessly caught his leg in midair, spinning, she swept his leg. Peter landed hard on his back, the impact jarring his senses. He rolled to his feet, his body humming with adrenaline as he prepared for the next assault. But it never came.
Peter scanned his surroundings as he tried to locate his elusive opponent. Checking every shadow, every rooftop, every window, he failed to spot her. He strained his ears, listening for the slightest sound that would give away her position. But he was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. The Spider-Woman had fled.
Peter tried to make sense of what had just happened. Who was this Spider-Woman, and why was she so interested in Tyson?
With Spider-Woman having vanished, Peter fired a webline and began swinging south. As he flew between the buildings, the vibrations of his phone against the skintight fabric of his suit alerted him to another incoming call. Swinging to a brief halt on a secluded rooftop, he answered the phone, immediately recognizing the urgent tone in his friend Tyson's voice.
— Rogue Replacement —
After wrapping up the interview with J. Jonah Jameson, Mirage exited the Daily Bugle building. He mounted his motorcycle, revved the engine, and set off toward the southern tip of Manhattan.
As Mirage maneuvered his motorcycle through the streets, the vibrancy of Midtown gave way as he reached the East Side. He pulled into an alley and threw his clothes over his costume. Remounting his bike, he got on the FDR Drive South. His destination was the East River Park Amphitheater, a scenic venue on the lower eastern edge of Manhattan. Its open-air setting, with the East River flowing quietly by and the Brooklyn skyline across the waters, offered a picturesque backdrop for the day's festivities.
He found a place to park his motorcycle and approached the amphitheater on foot. The distant sound of a crowd of soon-to-be graduated seniors gathering began to mingle with the river's gentle lapping.
Tyson weaved through the crowd of graduates toward a familiar platinum-blonde head. Felicia Hardy stood near the edge of the makeshift stage, looking radiant in a form-fitting black dress. She held her graduation gown draped over her arm. Tyson could not prevent the smile that tugged at his lips. Reaching her, he circled his arms around her waist, carefully avoiding skin-to-skin contact. Felicia placed her hands over his arms, mimicking his embrace. Tyson laughed softly and leaned in, his lips hovering above her ear.
"You look beautiful," he murmured.
Felicia chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "You're just buttering me up because of all the work you've got me doing."
Tyson mock pouted and released her. "It's not all work, you know." His voice dropped even lower. "What about the special project we've been planning?"
Felicia's emerald eyes glimmered mischievously as she leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You're right, just enough fun and games to keep me entertained." She narrowed her gaze though her full lips curved upward. "Tonight, while you're out dancing the night away on your date, I'll be slipping through the shadows, retrieving what you want."
She sighed exaggeratedly, leaning forward ever so slightly and arching her back to accentuate her cleavage. "It didn't use to be like this between us, you know," she added, a hint of wistfulness in her tone as she peered up at him through long lashes.
Tyson couldn't help but roll his eyes, though his gaze lingered for a moment on her cleavage. "Oh please, don't act like you don't enjoy a good heist."
"It's true," she admitted with a laugh, "I love the thrill of it all. The danger, the planning, executing everything flawlessly..." Her voice trailed off, nostalgia washing over her striking features. She lived for the intoxicating adrenaline rush that came with every successful score.
Tyson studied her thoughtfully for a moment, taking in the anticipation evident in her body language. As much as she pretended otherwise, he knew this was more than just a job for her. It was a chance to challenge herself, to revel in putting her skills to the test. And despite her flirtatious act, he knew that when it came to heists, Black Cat was all cunning, every bit as professional as she was daring.
"Just try not to have too much fun without me," he said.
Then a sudden, familiar scent caught his attention. The mix of sparklers and bubblegum that he'd come to associate with only one person.
He said to Felicia, "I'll be back."
He walked away from the crowd of graduates to where the families were entering the park. He reached the edge of the seating area just in time to catch a vibrant yellow blur that launched into his arms. Laughter escaped him as he spun the smaller figure before setting her down gently.
"Hey Jubes. Thanks for coming," he said, his voice tinged with genuine warmth.
Before him stood Jubilation Lee, better known as Jubilee. Her presence was as dynamic as her personality. She was a stark contrast to the more muted tones of the graduation crowd, her bright yellow coat, undoubtedly her trademark, hung loosely over a simple, yet chic ensemble. Her hair was cut in a stylish, choppy bob that framed her youthful face. Her eyes, alight with joy, scanned Tyson with an amused glint. Jubilee's energy was palpable, a vibrant force that seemed to dance around her, mirroring her ability to conjure dazzling plasmoids.
Jubilee was not the only one to arrive for his graduation. Trailing behind her was an assembly of some of the most formidable mutants from Xavier's Institute.
Jean Grey approached with Logan and Ororo Munroe behind her. The skies seemed to calm deferentially at her entrance becoming a picturesque blue with scattered fluffy clouds.
"Well, don't you look all grown up," Logan rumbled, clapping a heavy hand on Tyson's shoulder. His grin was fierce yet proud under his stubble and wild hair.
Jean's smile lit up her face. "We're so happy for you, Tyson." Her voice was warm and rich with sincerity.
Yet it was the arrival of Professor Charles Xavier himself that underscored the day's true significance. The professor sat in his distinctive yellow motorized wheelchair as he joined the assembly. Tyson had avoided speaking to Xavier since the fateful events at Alkali Lake nearly a year prior. He harbored no regrets for his actions that day, having killed Jason and gained the unstable mutant's powers of illusion for himself. But he remained troubled that he had to manipulate the professor to accomplish his ends. Believing it necessary at the time, however, the shame of using Xavier still lingered.
The greeting Tyson offered Ororo was marked by deep respect. With Logan, his manner was more relaxed.
But when Jean met Tyson's gaze, she felt his power attempting to take hold.
She relaxed her mind, trusting him enough to let him in.
And suddenly there was silence.
Jean Grey often struggled beneath the ceaseless cacophony of thoughts and feelings bombarding her mind through her telepathy. Regardless of how hard she concentrated, the sounds of others' thoughts remained whispers in her head. But in Tyson's presence, she found peace. His illusions allowed him to mute the tumult of nearby minds that was her constant companion. The relief was significant. This gift elevated Jean's opinion of him, making him one of her favorite friends.
Tyson approached Xavier, "Professor," he said, "thank you for coming."
Xavier's eyes crinkled with warmth as he looked up at the young man. "Congratulations, Tyson," he said, "Many young mutants have difficulty completing secondary school among non-mutant peers. By all accounts, you've done very well."
Xavier studied Tyson, his wise blue eyes missing nothing. Though left unspoken, the decision Tyson had made at Alkali Lake still hung between them. The Professor's presence now subtly conveyed his acceptance of Tyson's chosen path. He had always championed peaceful coexistence between mutants and humans. Perhaps he saw in Tyson's actions a reflection of his ideals, though realized through unconventional means.
Tyson appreciated the unexpected turnout of his friends. "I didn't expect all of you to come, but I'm happy to see you all," he admitted. "It's not that big of a deal though. It's just high school. Pretty much everyone graduates high school."
Logan snorted but spoke with a hint of amusement in his gruff voice. "It's not just that, bud. We've seen what you've done here. Stopping the Green Goblin, helping out with the Stark Expo, and whatever that thing was in Harlem."
Ororo chimed in, "And you're representing mutants well. We listened to your interview this morning on our way over. You've become the face of mutant representation."
Tyson looked between them, taking in their earnest expressions. He had not considered himself to be a symbol. Nearly all of his decisions beyond the one at Alkali Lake had been made with the consideration of his own drives, or perhaps the overall picture, not necessarily considering what was best for mutants.
Professor X's knowing eyes met Tyson's. "Intention or not, that's the way things have worked out," he stated.
Tyson mulled over the professor's words. He hadn't intentionally sought the spotlight, but he recognized the weight of responsibility that came with being a visible representative of mutant-kind.
"With all the deeds you've done here, none of us can complain about you being the first name that people think of when it comes to mutants," Storm added.
Her words struck a chord within him, reminding him of the broader implications of his actions and the far-reaching consequences of his choices.
Logan's voice was laced with pride as he said, "We're proud of you, kid."
"Thank you," he replied.
Jubilee added, "And after this ceremony, we'll party!"
Tyson asked, "Everyone?"
Jubilee's infectious laugh cut through the emotions stirred by their discussion. "No. Maybe a late lunch with everyone. But the old folks probably wouldn't enjoy the rave."
Tyson looked at Jean, but she shook her head causing her red hair to swing gently, "Jubilee has been pining over this date with you for months. I couldn't come along as third wheel."
Jubilee yelled, "Jean" in mock outrage. She blushed but straightened up meeting Tyson's gaze unabashedly.
Tyson said, "I have promised this for months. It'll be just us. We'll have a great time."
The authoritative voice of a teacher called out for the graduates to gather.
Tyson glanced at the assembled mutants and said, "That's my cue. I'll see you all afterward."
The ceremony was nothing more than a formality to him, but what came after was more exciting. Tonight, he and Jubilee would head out to that underground club, and Felicia was set to embark on a heist.
Tyson reached his assigned spot in line amongst his fellow graduates, absently smoothing the front of his robe. As he settled into place, the blonde behind him tapped his shoulder. It was his lab partner, and friend, Gwen Stacy, her face was drawn with worry. Physically, she'd healed quickly after her ordeal with the imposter Spider-Man. Though she bore no visible scars, shadows lingered in her eyes. The death of her father had struck their family a grievous blow, not to mention, that their home was left in ruins. However, it appeared her current distress wasn't related to that.
"Have you seen Peter?" she asked without preamble.
Tyson glanced around the sea of mortarboard caps surrounding them, taking advantage of his height. He inhaled deeply, checking for Peter's scent, but it wasn't present. Shaking his head, he answered, "He's not here."
Gwen mirrored the motion. "No. Aunt May hasn't seen him, and he won't answer my calls."
Concern rising, Tyson pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Peter's number, listening to it ring once, twice, three times before a distracted voice answered on the fourth. "Pete? It's Tyson. Where are you, man? Graduation is starting any minute now." Tyson said anxiously. He could hear the wind rushing past through their connection. He assumed Peter was on a rooftop or swinging through the city somewhere as Spider-Man.
"Tyson, I found the imposter!" Peter exclaimed.
"You found him? Where are you right now?" Tyson asked sharply. His voice became focused and his body readied for action. He'd forgo graduation to get his hands on the imposter.
Peter hesitated, the shocking revelation still fresh and perplexing in his mind. "Not him, her. There's another one. A girl," he clarified.
The line went silent as the weight of this unexpected information settled over the conversation.
Jameson had been right.
A female Spider-Man was swinging around the city. Tyson quickly asked, "Was she Asian?"
Peter said, "What? No? What does that have to do with anything?"
After a moment, Tyson's response came as a muted, incredulous mutter, "What the fuck is going on?" Regaining his composure, his tone shifted to concern. "Look, Pete, we'll figure this out, but you need to get here, like ten minutes ago. Aunt May is worried, and Gwen is starting to freak out too. Just get here, double time, alright?"
"Alright. On my way," Peter quickly assured before ending the call and launching himself from the rooftop, propelled by a renewed sense of urgency.
Tyson tucked away his phone, his expression smoothing into a mask of reassurance as he turned to Gwen. "Pete's fine," he told her, infusing confidence into the words. "Ran into some trouble, but he's on his way."
The familiar melody of "Pomp and Circumstance" began playing throughout the amphitheater. The teachers gathered everyone's attention and graduation procession began to move, gowns swishing as the students stepped forward. Gwen's disappointment was evident in the slump of her shoulders and the downturned corners of her mouth.
"He's going to miss my speech," she said softly, sadness tingeing her voice. The importance of this moment shone clearly in her downcast eyes.
Tyson wrapped her in a hug, giving a comforting squeeze. "It'll be okay," he assured her. "You're going to do great. I for one can't wait to hear it." He gave her a playful nudge. "Bonus points if you shout out your lab partner slash local superhero."
Gwen let out a choked laugh, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Tyson gave her shoulders another encouraging squeeze. "Things are going to get better, Gwen," he said firmly. "You'll see."
As the procession began its march, Gwen took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. With her chin lifted, she joined her classmates.
Tyson took his seat as some administrator or another began to speak, but his thoughts were far away. He felt a twinge of frustration, not at Peter, but at the situation itself. It was as if the very forces of the universe were conspiring to lead them all to this moment.
The death of Gwen's father had set into motion a cascade of events that seemed to ripple outward through Tyson's meta-knowledge of how things should unfold.
This morning's chance encounter with Max Dillon.
Gwen delivering her valedictorian speech.
And Peter missing it.
Tyson mentally connected the dots, forming a picture that only he could see. This was more than coincidence, the dominoes were beginning to fall into their predestined pattern.
The events of The Amazing Spider-Man 2.
As he looked at the girl sitting next to him, he knew that Gwen herself was the final piece. The last domino to topple. And when she fell… it would mean her death.
At that moment, Tyson made a silent vow to himself. He would not let Gwen die.
Tyson's thoughts lingered on the unfolding pattern, on how the imposter Spider-Man had already thrown off the course of events how the movie unfolded, and how the presence of Spider-Woman might affect things. Above all, his concern for Gwen's safety was at the forefront of his mind. But as she stood to give her valedictorian speech, he forced himself back to the present moment.
Gwen took a deep, steadying breath before beginning, her gaze sweeping across the sea of gathered faces. Her eyes held a solemn pride as she spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed faculty, proud parents, and most of all, my fellow graduates. Today marks not just the culmination of our high school journey, but the dawn of a new chapter in our lives." She paused, letting her words resonate through the auditorium.
"As we stand on the precipice of the future, we cannot help but look back upon the path that has led us here. It was a path paved with challenges overcome, achievements earned, laughter shared, and tears shed." Gwen's voice swelled with emotion. "We have been a part of something special here at Midtown High. Why, just this year we had a dinosaur attack the school, for heaven's sake!"
A wave of chuckles rippled through the crowd at the memory. Gwen smiled but quickly gathered herself to continue, her tone growing more serious. "But we also saw brave people rise to fight the threats in this strange new world we're stepping into. First responders, soldiers, police officers..." Her voice caught for a moment before she pressed on. "All willing to sacrifice everything for our future."
Gratitude colored her words as she went on. "There's even a rumor that Spider-Man and Mirage go to Midtown. If you guys are here, thank you for saving our school from that dinosaur." At this, Gwen's gaze met Tyson's knowingly. The crowd erupted into loud cheers and applause.
Her voice carried across the auditorium with renewed vigor. "But heroism isn't limited to those with extraordinary abilities or those who look good in skintight costumes," she joked, her gaze sweeping across the sea of laughing faces before her. "Every one of us has the potential to be a hero in our own right. We all have strength hidden within us," Gwen continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. "It's a strength that may lie dormant, waiting for the right moment to emerge. And when that moment comes, it can transform us in ways we never imagined possible." She paused, letting her words sink in. "As we leave Midtown High and step into the world beyond, we'll face challenges we can't imagine right now. There will be moments that test us, that push us to our limits. And in those moments, we'll have a choice."
Gwen's voice softened, but her words carried no less impact. "We can choose to stand by and let things happen, or we can choose to act. To be the hero in our own story and the stories of those around us. So I challenge you, my fellow graduates," Gwen said, her voice rising with passion. "Don't wait for someone else to save the day. Don't assume that heroism is beyond your reach. Remember that you have that strength, waiting for its moment to shine."
Tyson felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to Gwen's words. He glanced around, seeing the impact her speech had on everyone present. Parents wiped away tears, students sat up straighter in their seats, and even the most jaded teachers looked moved.
Gwen's voice grew more introspective as she neared the conclusion of her speech, "I know that we all think we're immortal. We're supposed to feel that way, we're graduating. The future is and should be bright, but, like our brief four years in high school, what makes life valuable is that it doesn't last forever, what makes it precious is that it ends. I know that now more than ever. And I say it today, of all days, to remind us that time is luck." Her words resonated deeply with her current situation. "So don't waste it living someone else's life, make yours count for something. Fight for what matters to you, no matter what. Because even if you fall short, what better way is there to live?"
Gwen's gaze softened, "It's easy to feel hopeful on a beautiful day like today, but there will be dark days ahead of us too. There will be days when you feel all alone, and that's when hope is needed most. Keep it alive. No matter how buried it gets or lost you feel, you must promise me that you will hold on to hope and keep it alive." Her words grew more fervent, "We have to be greater than what we suffer. My wish for you is to become hope. People need that."
Gwen's conclusion was a poignant acknowledgment of both an ending and a beginning. "I know it feels like we're saying goodbye, but we will carry a piece of each other into everything that we do next, to remind us of who we are, and of who we're meant to be." She paused, before finishing, "I've had a great four years with you, and I'll miss you all very much."
The applause was deafening as Gwen stepped away from the podium. Tyson felt those words resonate within him even more deeply. Gwen's acknowledgment of the dark days ahead echoed in his mind, but he clung to her wish for them to become hope. He thought of her assertion that they must be greater than what they suffer, and he felt a quiet resolve growing.
As the applause finally died, Tyson reflected on Gwen's words. He didn't memorize the movie, but he was sure this speech differed from the one he recalled. Picturing Gwen's poignant words, the part about carrying a piece of each other forward resonated with him deeply.
Tyson carried the lives and memories of everyone he touched within him.
She was right that this was just the next step. Tyson would do his best to honor her wish…
To become hope and share it with others.
And he would do his best to ensure that her goodbye speech wasn't prophetic... That it wasn't her last goodbye.
— Rogue Replacement —
Tyson and a few of the X-Men had just finished lunch at the restaurant inside the Four Seasons. Laughter and lively conversation flowed around the table as the group lingered over the exquisite dishes. As the meal ended, Tyson expressed his heartfelt gratitude to each member, ensuring they knew he had reserved VIP seating for them at his first showing of Logan's story, House of M: Wolverine.
"It's the least I can do," he said sincerely, "for all the support and guidance you gave me."
After more warm farewells and promises to reunite at the show, the X-Men took their leave. Tyson and Jubilee shared a knowing look between them; this night out was one they had been planning together for some time.
They made their way to the elevator and up to the Empire Suite. His room had been destroyed weeks earlier by the Spider-Man imposter, but now it was fully restored. The only missing fixture was the terrarium that had once contained the spider that had granted Spider-Man his powers. Tyson knew that spider was now forever lost to him.
It was an opportunity the doppelganger had stolen and one Tyson vowed he would pay for.
Tyson strode into the bedroom. Though the suite had been meticulously restored, traces of destruction remained in his memory. He dressed quickly in a simple long-sleeved designer shirt and jeans. Fortunately, the imposter had not bothered with his wardrobe, and for that small mercy Tyson was grateful. He finished getting ready in just a few minutes.
While Tyson waited, Jubilee took over the vacated bedroom to change. She emerged a short time later, her outfit a stylish blend of casual and vibrant, utterly Jubilee. The high-cut jean shorts showcased her long, athletic legs while the pink crop top drew the eye to her slim waist and bust. Over this, she wore her signature yellow jacket, but this one was different, cropped short. She styled her short dark hair making it look spontaneous yet put together. The outfit was undeniably fashionable, but more than that, it was a statement. Jubilee knew exactly who she was and expressed it unapologetically, from the cut of the shorts to the bold splashes of color she rocked.
"You look great, Jubes. Ready for this night you've planned?"
Jubilee hesitated, some of her usual vibrant energy dimming. "Not yet," she replied, her tone unexpectedly serious compared to her typically upbeat demeanor.
Tyson looked puzzled, eyebrows drawing together in concern. "Oh?"
"Girl code first," Jubilee stated firmly.
"Uh, okay?" Tyson said uncertainly, not following her meaning.
Jubilee took a moment to gather her thoughts before explaining the situation. "Illyana and I were never really friends back at the institute," she began. "But everything that happened with Azazel brought us closer together." Real concern threaded through Jubilee's voice as she continued, "Illyana's been holding something back lately. On the day we all went to the beach, something upsetting happened after you guys left the institute. She's putting on a brave face and won't tell me about it, but I can tell she's hurting inside."
Jubilee clarified further, "Everything seemed fine that day, right? But Illyana confessed that you two haven't talked since then." Understanding dawned on Tyson's face as he grasped Jubilee's concern for her friend. "I don't want to come between you two," she confessed, "I don't want our date tonight to ruin any of our friendships."
Tyson gestured for Jubilee to sit next to him on the couch. As she settled beside him, Tyson said solemnly, "This isn't your fault, Jubes. It's mine. Illyana and I..." Tyson hesitated, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to say. "Remember when the institute was attacked? I said I knew the attack was coming because I saw the future when I had Jean's power..."
He paused, a silent struggle playing across his face as he wrestled with how much to reveal. But Jubilee was one of his best friends and had supported him since the start. "I left out a lot about what I saw. There was more that I didn't tell anyone. So much more." Jubilee's attention was fixed unwaveringly on Tyson, her expression a mix of concern and intrigue as she waited for him to continue. The room seemed to shrink around them, the enormity of Tyson's admission drawing them closer together in shared secrecy. "I saw events, some years into the future," Tyson admitted. "Illyana told me she went on a date, and I got so angry," he said, a note of shame entering his voice.
"Umm, that explains some things… But you've gone on dates too, with Felicia and Natasha. Illyana even encouraged you to go out with me tonight. I thought you guys had an understanding about that?" Jubilee said, pointing out the apparent contradiction, though her tone held no accusation, only confusion.
With a small shake of his head, Tyson clarified, "It wasn't that she was seeing someone. Sure I was a bit jealous, I mean who isn't jealous a little when they hear their ex is with someone new? But more than that, it was about who she was seeing."
He revealed, "That man was in my vision of the future. He's dangerous, Jubes. Like Magneto level dangerous."
Probing deeper, Jubilee asked gently, "You didn't try to talk to her about any of this, did you?"
Tyson's frustration and regret were palpable as he insisted, "I didn't get a chance to. She was so upset when she realized I wouldn't join her for another year that she just stepped through the portal and left me there." He continued, "I was so angry about it, I even threatened the Sorcerer Supreme, the head sorcerer." With a tone of resignation, Tyson finished, "But like you said, I've been dating around too. I don't have any right to say something about who she sees. And so much has been going on this past month, I've just been upset and avoiding talking to her about it."
He sat silently with a faraway look after finishing his admission.
Suddenly the silence was broken by a bubbling laughter.
It was incongruous with the somber mood permeating the room. So much so that Tyson had a stupidly confused look on his face.
As she calmed, her eyes sparkled with amusement as she regarded him. "You know, sometimes I forget just how oblivious you can be," she teased, though her tone held no malice. "I play you up in my head to be this big superhero celebrity now, but you can be so dense. It hasn't changed since the institute. These clues are in front of your face and yet you miss them."
Tyson just stared at her, bewildered by the sudden shift in her demeanor. He searched her face, trying to understand what he had missed. Sensing his confusion, Jubilee threw her hands up in mock exasperation, as if the answer should be obvious.
"Tyson, Illyana isn't dating that guy anymore," she explained gently. "They went on a few dates, but it didn't work out. She told me he seemed more interested in her power than her. Had you just talked to her more, you would have realized that."
Tyson stared at Jubilee, stunned into silence as her words sank in.
Jubilee could tell he remained unconvinced. So she broke Tyson from his thoughts by saying, "Illyana isn't straight, you know."
"What?" Tyson whispered.
He searched Jubilee's face, trying to understand what she was saying. "Jubes, I promise you, she's not gay. We..."
Jubilee held up her hands to interrupt him, blushing slightly. "Yeah, I know, she told me all about it. No need for you to go into details too."
She spoke slowly and clearly, spelling it out for him. "Trust me. Romantically she's just not interested in most men. Probably from what she went through when she was younger. Think about how she acted toward you when you first arrived at the institute."
Silence descended once again as Tyson absorbed this. He didn't have access to Illyana's memories, but there were flashes that he remembered from when they touched. He'd spent more time with her imprint than anyone else. He thought about Illyana's abduction as a child, and her cold disinterest bordering on disdain when he arrived at the institute. The pieces clicked into place.
"Goddammit, missed that one," Tyson admitted with a hint of chagrin.
"So oblivious." Jubilee's laughter rang out again, her amusement evident in the playful way she teased him. "If Illy was here, she'd probably try to kiss me before she tried to kiss you." She tilted her head. "How is it that you get all of someone's memories but don't realize they're pan?"
"Pan?" Tyson repeated in confusion.
Jubilee patiently explained, "Illyana isn't against men exactly, but because of what happened to her, she doesn't usually pursue them. Something about you is different for her, something she loves. But she doesn't consider gender when she looks at attractiveness."
Tyson blinked looking side to side as he processed Jubilee's words and understanding dawned. He tried to justify his oversight. "When I touch someone, I get the broad strokes of their life, but I need to focus on specifics to absorb things. In this case... Honestly, I'm not sure how I missed that. Maybe it's because I didn't actively recall any memories where she showed interest in any women. Or anyone besides me. Or maybe because I'm only interested in women I didn't pick up on it?" He shrugged helplessly.
Tyson let out a slow breath as the realization settled over him. He had misunderstood Illyana's intentions and feelings. Now that he knew the truth, Tyson would need to call her to talk through this misunderstanding.
"There's no way around it. I owe her an apology for ignoring her. Things escalated quickly, I let my anger get the best of me." He grimaced as he recalled, "I threatened the Sorcerer Supreme too. That's another conversation I'll need to have."
Jubilee's response was simple. "Probably," she agreed, still smiling.
Seeking to steer the conversation back to the present, Tyson asked Jubilee for reassurance. "But tonight was supposed to be for you." His brow furrowed with concern for her feelings, despite his earlier obliviousness. "So are we good now?"
"I know it seems like we cleared the air, but I gotta ask. Where do things stand with Felicia and your hot teacher, Natalie?" Jubilee asked directly, searching his eyes with an earnest desire for honesty.
Tyson nodded, wanting to be fully transparent with her. "Felicia is a great friend and business partner, but we don't have a committed relationship. We hook up when we're both available, but it's casual, no strings attached. Mostly we collaborate on projects and House of M business, but it's often over dinner," he explained, defining the loose boundaries of their association.
His tone softened as he continued, "As for Nat... I care about her a lot, but we have an understanding too. We're not officially dating or anything like that. She's out of the country on assignment right now, and like Illyana, she'll be gone for months."
He paused, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully, before adding, "I even talked with Nat about you recently. She was supportive, and said I should be more open and honest moving forward." Tyson's words conveyed the depth of fondness he held for Natalie, alongside an acceptance of their current long-distance circumstances. He was being as candid as he could, hoping to shed light on the true nature of these relationships.
Jubilee took in his words with a thoughtful nod, her expression morphing into a playful smirk. "So... friends-with-benefits and yet another ex-girlfriend. Your little black book is kinda full." She gave him a gentle, teasing nudge. "But I think we're good here. Girl code has been satisfied."
Jubilee's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer to Tyson. "If the hot teacher told you to be honest with me… Then tell me something honest," she challenged, her tone playful yet expectant.
"I've been looking forward to spending time with you," he admitted, his voice softening. "You're pretty much my best friend. I love being around you, you're fun and supportive, and I should have found more ways to hang out this year."
"Not bad," she conceded, but she wasn't quite finished. "Are you sure you want to go out with me when you have someone like Felicia as friends-with-benefits? Have you seen her? She's hot enough that when she looks at me, even I'm questioning."
Tyson let out a rich genuine laugh. "If I knew it was like that, I might have invited her," he joked, then quickly added, "Just kidding. Tonight is me and you… And stop acting like you're not gorgeous. Have you seen yourself? You easily give Felicia a run for her money."
"Back when I came to the institute. Do you remember the Professor had you come in and give me the tour?" His expression grew thoughtful as he continued, "I was thinking about it… And I don't blame him. You never realized it. Look at my arrival from this way. Xavier retrieves a powerful mutant who his friend, slash, nemesis is hunting. He can't make me stay at the institute, so he needs to give me a good reason to hang around. So what did he do? He brought you in and had me spend time with you. He must have thought that spending time with a girl like you might make a good enough impression to convince me to stay."
Jubilee gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. "The professor used me as a honey trap?" she asked incredulously. Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed at Tyson accusingly. "Are you messing with me?"
"Didn't I invite you into my room that day?" he asked.
Jubilee shrugged, amusement and realization dawning on her face. "And now here we are. You've got me in your apartment. We've come full circle, like this was all part of your master plan."
Tyson found himself drawn to the playful glint in Jubilee's eyes, the way her smile lit up her entire face. She had always been attractive, but sitting here now, he was struck by her beauty. Jubilee, for her part, felt a flutter in her stomach as she looked at Tyson. She'd harbored a crush on him for so long but had always pushed it aside, convinced he saw her as just a friend. Now, with his honest words and eyes on her, she wondered if there could be more.
Relieved and buoyed by Jubilee's easy acceptance, Tyson seized the moment of understanding between them and revisited his earlier question, now with a hopeful undertone. "Ready for that date now?"
"Oh, so a date it is then?" Her words echoed Tyson's own in a playful challenge. She reached for his arm, enthusiastically saying, "Let's go."
They exited the Four Seasons lobby arm-in-arm. Stepping out into the evening, the city's vibrant lights greeted them, matching the excited energy thrumming between the pair. They approached one of the black taxis idling along the curb, and Jubilee eagerly gave the driver the address for the underground rave.
The taxi stopped in front of a dingy warehouse on the west side. Its peeling paint and grime-streaked windows didn't hint at the supposed party within. But they could pick up the muffled sounds of music. Tyson paid the driver and exited, stepping onto the curb and scanning the dark street. Jubilee emerged from the taxi with a bounce in her step, clearly eager to continue their adventure into the night.
"This way," she said, grabbing Tyson's hand and pulling him down the narrow alley alongside the warehouse.