Peter rushed up the stairs and through the door at the top into Jessica's apartment. She had left the door unlocked. Peter scanned the room and quickly saw Jessica sitting at her desk in the corner, laptop out.

"Jessica!" exclaimed Peter, "What is it? What couldn't you tell me over the phone?"

"Look," said Jessica expressionlessly, turning her laptop to face him.

Peter looked at the screen. It was footage from his recent fight with Hydro-Man. The supercriminal had recently escaped from his prison after being apprehended by Spider-Man on Empire State University's campus several months back. Spider-Man had managed to defeat him again, but apparently something about the incident concerned Jessica.

"So?"

"Here," said Jessica impatiently, skipping to a specific point in the video and pausing it.

"My scars?" asked Peter.

The particular angle of the shot saw Spider-Man's shirt slightly rolled up from a blast of water. The scars from his experience with the Kingpin were visible in the frame. Wilson Fisk had nearly electrified Peter to death after torturing him for nearly a day. The incident left several streaks of discoloration on his side.

"Bingo," nodded Jessica.

"So?" shrugged Peter again, "It's not like anyone is going to see Peter Parker with those scars."

Jessica sighed. She turned her laptop back to herself, typed something in, did some clicking, and then turned the laptop back to Peter. Peter instinctively blushed and looked away. It was a video Flash Thompson had uploaded a year or so ago of Peter being hoisted up a pulley system by his underwear. Indeed, Peter's scars were visible here too as his hoodie and shirt rolled up as he was yanked upward.

"Anyone can watch these videos, Peter," said Jessica, "Someone will find out."

"Jessica, no one would think to watch both videos other than you," said Peter, "Not only are you incredibly close to both Spider-Man and Peter Parker, but you're a master investigator. No one else is going to figure this out."

"...you sure?" asked Jessica nervously.

"I'll text Flash to take down the video just in case," said Peter, "Sound good?"

Peter and Flash were on better terms now than they once were. He would listen.

"Yeah," nodded Jessica, "Yeah, it does."

"Cool," smiled Peter, "Now let's do something relaxing. Any terrible movies you're dying to watch?"

"Always," said Jessica with a hint of relief, "I'll text Bobbi. You can let Red know too if you want."

"Hmmmmnnngh…." groaned Peter.

He could hear his phone buzzing over and over on his bedside table.

"Oh thank God," sighed Weasel, "You're awake. That thing has been going off nonstop all morning. You're quite popular."

It was 5:30 AM. Weasel was awake at his computer at his desk in the corner, fully dressed. Peter never could get a handle for what that guy's schedule was. Peter took a look at his phone. He had an insane amount of unread texts and missed calls. He started reading them. His heart sank.

is it true peter? Are you really spiderman?

Dude Thor told me everything after we saw the story. You rock. We've got your back, dude

is it true?

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?

There were dozens more like it, plus voicemails making similar remarks. Peter panicked as he followed the link in the texts to an online article published by Daily Bugle reporter Kat Farrell on her private blog, wherein she detailed the same correlation Jessica had drawn and concluded that Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

Farrell presented both videos in the article, as well as describing them each in humiliating detail. Apparently Flash hadn't gotten it down fast enough. She credited the tip as having been submitted by an anonymous source. While the article had gone viral almost immediately, Peter was relieved to see it wasn't being reported by any major news outlets as fact.

"Shit dude, what is it?" asked Weasel, having seen the look on Peter's face.

"Someone published an article saying I'm Spider-Man…" said Peter quietly.

"Holy shit," realized Weasel, "So you're secret's out now?"

Weasel had previously discovered Peter's identity.

"I don't know," said Peter, "Right now it's being dismissed as a possible rumor, but if they do much digging-"

Peter and Weasel both froze as they heard a knock at their door.

"Who is it?" asked Weasel loudly as Peter leapt to his feet and began to swiftly gather up his Spider-Man related things.

"NYPD," said the voice, "Just here to ask a few questions."

This is bad, realized Peter, If the police are taking this seriously enough to send officers here this early…

"Tell them I'm out," whispered Peter to Weasel as he crawled out the window, "That you haven't seen me since last night."

"Peter, I-" began Weasel quietly, but Peter had already begun to scale the outside of the building.

Dressed in only a loose T-shirt and sweats, Peter leapt onto the roof in the darkness of the early morning. He opened the backpack he had brought with him, pulling out his costume and phone. He saw that he was still receiving calls and texts. His fellow students wanted to know if it was really true. Coworkers from the Bugle seemed certain that it wasn't true, but wanted answers. The ones who already knew were concerned.

It had to happen one day… thought Spider-Man worriedly, putting on his mask and swinging off.

Knock-knock-knock

Come on, Jessica… thought Spider-Man.

He was on the side of her apartment building just outside her window, where he had been rapping on the glass for the past couple of minutes.

"Shit," said Jessica, rushing over and opening the window, "Get in here!"

Spider-Man jumped in and pulled off his mask, following after Jessica as she walked across the apartment to her desk.

"Jessica, you were right," admitted Peter, "I'm sorry for not taking you seriously."

"That's not important right now," said Jessica, pulling up her laptop, "The best thing we can do now is slow the spread of the information. Make it look false."

"How bad is it?"

"Pretty rough," said Jessica nervously, "It's spreading across social media like wildfire. No news outlets have said anything yet though. There's got to be a reason for that. You'd think the allegations alone would be enough to make headlines."

"That's good then, isn't it?"

"It's something," said Jessica, "Most of the world still believes the story though."

"Could we get Cindy or someone to put my costume on while I-"

"What, hope that no one figures out that you got yourself a stand-in?"

Jessica said.

"It's actually not a bad idea," she admitted, "I just don't know that it'll work."

"We don't know that anything will work, Jessica," said Peter solemnly.

They were in uncharted territory now. Maybe they could get the media attention away from it before any conclusions were drawn, but Peter had been publicly connected to Spider-Man. Even if this blew over, someone would find out not long afterward. Peter had worried about this day for years. It seemed inevitable, but somehow he never envisioned it actually happening.

"It might not be all bad," offered Jessica, "I know you're worried about Red and your aunt and everyone, but plenty of vigilantes have public identities and keep their loved ones safe just fine."

"Maybe," muttered Peter.

There was a knock at the door.

"Ms. Morse? Ms. Jones?" asked a woman's voice from the other side of the door, "This is the NYPD. We just have a few questions."

"Go!" whispered Jessica, pointing to the window.

Spider-Man pulled his mask back on, grabbed his backpack, and rushed out the window. He clung to the side of the building just outside the window to listen. Jessica cracked open her door.

"Can I help you?" she asked impatiently.

"My name is Captain Jean DeWolff," said the stern-looking woman on the other side, accompanied by another officer, "I was hoping we could talk to you about-"

"You have a warrant?" demanded Jessica.

"No, but-"

"Then have a nice day," said Jessica irritably, shutting the door so hard she was just short of slamming it.

"It's about Spider-Man," shouted DeWolff from the other side as Jessica walked away, "We know you've worked together! Surely you've seen the news?"

Jessica, ignoring DeWolff, returned to her laptop and tried to resume researching the story. Jessica still hadn't figured out the origin of the leak. Peter had a point; only someone with Jessica's attention to detail could have drawn this conclusion. Jessica whad to track down the source. She would make them pay if it killed her.

"Mr. Parker wasn't in his dorm room this morning," continued DeWolff loudly through the door, "No one has seen him since the story broke. We've brought his girlfriend in for questioning. If you know where he is-"

"Wait!" called out Peter, swinging back into the window and pulling off his mask.

Jessica shot him a look of shock and anger.

"They're going to find out, Jessica," he said quietly, "I can't put MJ, Aunt May, or anyone else through all this just to delay the inevitable."

"Ms. Jones?" called DeWolff, "Is there someone in there who would like to speak with us?"

Peter went for the door. Jessica rushed up to him, but he was easily able to push her back with his superior strength. Jessica grunted as she stumbled back. It was rare that Peter ever used his strength against her. Sometimes she even forgot he was stronger. Peter arrived at the door and opened.

"Hello," he said to DeWolff and the other officer, "My name is Peter Parker and I have been Spider-Man since I was 18 years old."

"Come on, Jessica," said Cindy, "This is Peter we're talking about. He would never have hidden from this forever."

"She's right, Jess," said Bobbi.

Cindy Moon and Bobbi Morse had joined Jessica in the apartment, where they had wheeled out Jessica's whiteboard and had taken some sporadic notes from the events of the past day. Peter was currently in NYPD custody. Jessica hoped he was smart enough to avoid saying anything without a lawyer.

"Still no word from Red," said Jessica, pacing, "The police wouldn't have arrested her, right? So where is she? Is she cooperating?"

"You don't seriously think she'd flip on Peter?" said Bobbi.

"No," said Jessica after a moment, "It just makes me nervous."

There was a knock at the door. Everyone froze. After a moment, Jessica cautiously approached the door and looked through the peephole.

"Karen?" realized Jessica, opening the door.

"Hi," said the woman at the door, anxiety in her voice, "Can I come in?"

"You didn't bring Frank, did you?" asked Jessica dryly as she let Karen inside.

"I read about Peter," said Karen, ignoring Jessica's comment, "I want to help any way I can."

"I think most of the damage is already done," said Cindy sadly.

"Doesn't mean we can't find the son of a bitch responsible," said Bobbi, "We could use a reporter's help with that."

"A reporter?" asked Cindy.

"Karen," said the slender woman, offering her hand to Cindy, "Karen Page."

Cindy shook the hand. Then Karen turned to Bobbi.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Ms. Morse."

"Call me Bobbi."

"Well, what do you have so far on where this all came from?"

"It all started from Kat Farrell's blog," said Jessica, gesturing at her whiteboard.

"I saw," said Karen, "Farrell's a reporter for the Bugle. She's one of their best journalists, in fact."

"Glad you're a fan."

"No, listen," explained Karen, "If the Bugle's best journalist was sitting on a tip as hot as Spider-Man's identity, why wouldn't the Bugle be the one to publish it? Why did it end up on her personal blog instead?"

"You think it has something to do with Peter working for the Bugle?" suggested Bobbi.

"Possibly," said Karen, "but knowing Jameson, he'd jump at the chance to out Spider-Man even if it meant throwing his own employee under the bus."

"Unless that meant throwing his own paper under the bus too," pointed out Jessica, "This revelation has to be pretty embarrassing for them. All those articles trash talking Spider-Man while he was on their payroll…"

"It looks worse now that their own employee broke the news independently," countered Karen, "No, my guess is that Jameson didn't take the tip seriously. After all, it is technically all speculation. There's a reason news outlets have all been silent on it. Vigilante laws can get messy. No one wants to make any claim like this without concrete evidence to back it up."

"Yeah well, now Peter's confessed," grumbled Jessica, "It's not speculation anymore."

"And they'll publish that as soon as it's public," nodded Karen.

"Where did this tip even come from?" asked Bobbi, "It must have been reliable if someone as well-established as Kat Farrell was willing to put it on her blog."

"Maybe we need to pay Farrell a visit," suggested Jessica.

"Aren't you tangled up in enough legal trouble?" said Karen, "How do you think it'll look if Peter's personal friend and vigilante ally shakes down a journalist for reporting the truth?"

"They don't know I'm Peter's friend," offered Cindy.

Everyone turned to look at her.

"I'm just saying," she shrugged, "Silk's identity is safe and sound."

Jessica smiled, finding herself proud of Cindy.

"I'm sorry, Betty," said Kat, balancing her phone between her chin and shoulder as she typed away at her laptop, "Jameson wouldn't run the story. I took matters into my own hands. Turned out I was right. So sue me."

"That's not what this is about!" yelled Betty back, "You should have told me, Kat! You know how I felt about Peter. And Spider-Man for that matter!"

"And let you run with the story yourself?" scoffed Kat, "Sorry Betty, but I paid a pretty penny for that tip. Don't blame me that you didn't snatch it up yourself."

"I'm telling you, that's not why I'm mad!" repeated Betty angrily, "I spent years working with Peter. I thought we were close. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to learn from a blog post that he was Spider-Man this whole time? That I was too dumb to notice?"

"Probably as humiliating as being outclassed by your coworker," smirked Kat.

"Kat!" yelled Betty, "You should have given me a heads up. You should have trusted me."

"I'm done apologizing for my success, Betty."

"That's not at all what I-!"

"Goodbye, Betty."

Kat hung up. Then she returned to her laptop. Since publishing her story, her email had been blowing up with questions, offers, and more. Among those emails were of course Jameson's furious demands that she take the story down and republish it through the Bugle. Kat found immense satisfaction in turning him down.

Kat turned when she heard a knocking at her window. She saw a woman with a red kerchief over her face looking in. Kat immediately pulled out the handgun she kept in the lower drawer of her desk. She knew her reporting could get her targeted by dangerous people. The gun wasn't loaded, but she hoped it would scare off whoever this was.

There was a loud crack as the intruder broke the lock of the window by forcing it open. She crawled in, revealing the rest of her superhero suit. Then she quickly fired a web from her fingers at the gun, whipping it out of Kat's hands and into the corner.

"We need to talk," said Silk.

"I have no regrets!" spat Kat, " I told the truth!"

"Tell that to my buddy," said Silk, nodding across the room.

Kat spun around to see who Silk was referring to. No one was there. Silk used the opportunity to shoot a web from her fingers to Kat's butt, sticking to the seat of her slacks. Kat barely had time to react before Silk leapt outside and yanked Kat with her. The reporter screamed as she flew out the window, her glasses tumbling to the streets below. Kat would have shared the same fate, had her fall not been broken by her pants when the web became taut. Kat winced as the waistband and crotch of the slacks cut into her.

"By 'my buddy' I meant gravity," said Silk, "Now talk: where did you get your tip on Spider-Man?"

"How little integrity do you think I have!?" demanded Kat, slowly swinging back and forth, "I would never give up my- AAHHH!"

Silk had loosened the webbing, causing Kat to briefly go into freefall before the web tightened again and caught her with another bungee bounce. The web began to slowly retract, raising Kat slowly back up to Silk's height. She then loosened the web again. Kat screamed, but was only dropped ever so slightly. She couldn't take this.

"Alright, alright!" pleaded Kat, "North! Her name is Dakota North!"

Silk threw Kat roughly back into her apartment. Kat grunted as she landed hard on her own floor, groaning in pain as she looked at the trail of webbing coming from her butt.

"Ugh…" she muttered, "Talk about a wedgie…"

"Who's Dakota North?" demanded Silk.

"Shit."

"You know her?"

"Shit!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

Jessica was angrily pacing back and forth across the length of the apartment. Cindy, Karen, and Bobbi were also there. Jessica was clenching her fists and muttering to herself.

"I should have known," cursed Jessica, "Peter said it himself: it would take an investigator like me to catch this."

"I take it this Dakota North is good?" asked Bobbi.

"Worse," said Jessica, "She's unafraid to play dirty."

"Kind of like you," noted Cindy.

"Shut up!" snapped Jessica.

Cindy backed away and raised her hands. Jessica returned to angrily pacing. They had still not heard a word from Peter since he turned himself in. The police had yet to make a statement either. This put them all on edge.

"How well do you know her?" asked Karen.

"Only as a fellow professional in the industry," said Jessica, "It's not like we play racquetball on the weekends."

"Have you met her?" asked Karen impatiently.

"Briefly," said Jessica, "I'm mostly familiar with her for stealing my clients back in the day."

"Stealing your clients?"

"This might surprise some of you," said Jessica, "but I wasn't always this… put together. I would sometimes let cases go unsolved for a while. A lot of clients decided to find help elsewhere. Dakota North was usually where they wound up. If they hadn't gone to her first, that is."

"We've got a name," said Bobbi, "and we know who she is. This is good."

"I want to clarify that most of my cases back then were adultery," added Jessica, "It's not like I was letting kidnappings go unsolved or anything."

"Relax, Jessica," said Cindy, "You don't have to justify-"

"That's actually good to know," interjected Karen, deep in thought, "So those were most of North's clients as well?"

"Probably."

"So it's safe to assume she's in this for the money," continued Karen, "Not some sort of personal motive?"

"...probably," said Jessica, uncomfortable with the analogies being drawn between her and this woman.

"And she sold it to a journalist," continued Karen, "so she's probably not working for a criminal or anything. She just sold it in the easiest way to make money."

"Come on, Bobbi," said Jessica, "Bring your sticks."

"Where are you going?" asked Karen.

"We're paying Dakota a visit."

Bobbi followed Jessica out of the apartment, leaving Cindy and Karen alone in the apartment that neither of them had been in before that day. After a few awkward moments, Karen took out her phone and dialed someone.

"Who are you calling?" asked Cindy.

"A friend," said Karen, "One who might be able to help Peter."

Jessica kicked in the door, snapping the lock as it swung open into Dakota North Investigations. The auburn-haired woman sitting at the desk looked up, unimpressed. She looked tired. Her posture was terrible as she slumped over her desk at her laptop.

"Jessica Jones," she said, "I wondered when you'd be stopping by."

"The Spider-Man story," demanded Jessica, "Where'd you get your information?"

"Are you asking me to divulge trade secrets to a competitor?" asked Dakota, "Surely you know better than that, Jessica."

"Listen here you-"

Began Jessica, approaching Dakota. Dakota's confidence was explained when she leaned back in her chair and revealed a pistol in her hand, pointed straight at Jessica. Jessica gritted her teeth and froze where she stood, raising her hands into the air. Bobbi, who had entered behind Jessica, did the same.

"Please," sighed Dakota, "Everyone knows you're buddy-buddy with Spider-Man. I had a feeling you'd be coming for me."

"Why?" asked Bobbi, "Why'd you do it?"

"Why?" asked Dakota in confusion, "Because it's my job. It's how I make my money. You understand that; don't you, Jessica?"

Jessica withheld a snarl of disgust.

"I have to admit I found it strange that you never sold the information yourself," continued Dakota, "You work with the guy, you're a half decent investigator, you obviously knew. Why didn't you use that?"

"Because I'm not a shameless scumbag," said Jessica quietly.

"Could have fooled me," shrugged Dakota.

"Hey!" yelled Bobbi.

"Oh please," dismissed Dakota, "You break into my office and have the gall to be offended by me? You're both criminals just like your buddy in red tights!"

"So that's how you justify it to yourself," realized Jessica.

"You and I make a living off this, Jessica," said Dakota, "We're trained professionals. Vigilantes like Spider-Man just get in our way and make us look bad."

"He saves lives," said Jessica, trying to stay calm, "He helps people."

"Just because he's a flashy hero doesn't mean he's a good person," scoffed Dakota, "We have police officers, we have private security firms. If I get paid to help catch someone illegally getting in the way of those professions, you can bet I-"

A white baton whizzed past Jessica's head at Dakota. Dakota watched the baton sail past her own head as well before hitting the wall behind her and rebounding into the back of her skull. Dakota's head slammed into the table from the impact, causing her a moment of daze. Jessica used this moment to rush up to her, rip the gun out of her hand, and detached the clip. Jessica tossed the weapon aside. Then she grabbed Dakota's head and smashed it into her own keyboard.

"Tell us everything," ordered Jessica, "How you got the information, when you got it, and who you gave it to."

"I'm sure you know already," grunted Dakota in pain, "The video of the Hydro-Man fight. Peter had the same scars in the video of that prank."

"How did you know about Flash's video?"

"I've been watching Peter Parker since the Octavius incident," said Dakota North, "Given his sole credit for Spider-Man photos, he was a top suspect from the start. All I needed was something more concrete."

Jessica released her grip on Dakota. Dakota raised her head from the keyboard and stroked her aching jaw. Jessica walked back over to Bobbi.

"That's it?" asked Bobbi, "This is normally the part where you beat and humiliate her."

"She doesn't need my help with that," said Jessica, looking around the office, "She's alone, desperate for attention, and completely without integrity. She knows it too. Her own life will punish her enough."

"What makes you so sure?"

Jessica looked back at Dakota, who looked weak and frustrated. She stared back at Jessica, still rubbing her jaw. Jessica recognized that deeply unhappy look of disdain.

"Experience."

Peter sat quietly. He had been sitting quietly for what felt like hours now. His wrists were bound in an electronic set of cuffs that muffled his hands and glowed a soft red light, indicating the neutralization of Peter's powers. He looked around the empty interrogation room, catching his nervous face in the one-way mirror.

Since turning himself in and confessing, Peter hadn't said a word about the case. He refused to speak until either he had a lawyer or until he could be assured that Mary Jane had been released. He only hoped that Aunt May and the others wouldn't have to deal with police harassment too.

"Mr. Parker," said DeWolff as she entered the room, folder in hand, "A pleasure, as always."

Peter didn't respond.

"You think I'm happy about this?" she asked, "I worked alongside Spider-Man. I trusted him. He directly contributed evidence to multiple cases. Now here I am sitting across from him in an interrogation room!"

Still no response. DeWolff sighed.

"You wanna talk about those scars?" asked DeWolff, "I'm going to guess they're from the Fisk incident?"

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm sure that topic is difficult," admitted DeWolff, "You know I wouldn't bring it up if it weren't directly relevant."

Spider-Man had shared some of the details of the torture with DeWolff in anticipation of Fisk's trial. Vigilante laws allowed DeWolff to testify about Spider-Man's experience, even though it would normally have been hearsay. DeWolff knew more details from that day than Peter would have liked.

"Your girlfriend has been let go," added DeWolff, "Truth be told, we had nothing to hold her on. She came willingly."

Peter still didn't speak.

"Would you believe me if I said she flipped on you?"

"What do you want, Captain?" asked Peter plainly.

"A written confession would be a good place to start," said DeWolff, opening the folder to a form, "Then we can get started on the legal business. As I'm sure you know, the state will provide you with an attorney to-"

"Mr. Parker," said a man as he walked urgently into the room, "don't say another word."

"-or one will waltz right into my interrogation," sighed DeWolff in exasperation.

The man turned in Peter's direction. He was a tall and slender man in a dark red suit with a hint of red in his dark hair. He wore a pair of red-tinted sunglasses and carried a collapsible white cane in his right hand.

"My name is Matt Murdock," he said, "and starting right now, I'm your attorney."