CHAPTER TWENTY: A Serious Talk

"Uh...Dad, listen..."

My father flipped on the light switch before I could dispense with the bullshit excuse as to why I was just climbing into my room in the middle of the night in a torn up Spider-Man costume. My first thought was that I could possibly get lucky and he wouldn't have seen my costume in the darkness. Then I could convince him that I was just a weirdo with a penchant for climbing in and out of my own window. Well, so much for that plan...

We found ourselves staring at each other in awkward silence for a few moments, though it felt like hours. His eyes trailed downward toward my boots, and slowly moved upward while taking in the costume, or at least what was left of it. Finally he made eye contact with me again, though he didn't say a word. He just stood there with his jaw agape, probably in an attempt to make some sense of the situation. The silence was killing me. At least if he were yelling at me, I'd be able to gauge his emotions somehow. I figured the best way to break the ice was to state the obvious.

"Dad," I said, "I'm Spider-Man."

The plan didn't work. He still didn't say anything.

"I've been Spider-Man for a few months now,' I continued. "I mean, I took a break for a little while, but then I started putting the costume back on and..."

"Did you kill your mother?" he asked me, his voice monotone.

"No! I swear, Dad, it wasn't me! I was trying to save her!" I took a step toward him, but he took a step away and accidently bumped into the wall behind him.

"Just stay back!" he yelled. This time his voice was booming.

"Dad, I know what you've been hearing in the news and reading in the papers, but trust me, I did not kill her..."

I shouldn't have been shocked that this would be his reaction. The media made it seem as though Spider-Man was responsible for my mother's death. There's no reason why he shouldn't believe this was so. It would also explain why he was so upset to hear Aaron and I arguing about it.

"You...you're Spider-Man..." he said.

"Yes."

"And you're telling me it's not true what they said. That Spider-Man killed Rhonda?"

"It's not true."

"How do you expect me to believe that?" he asked, though with the inflection in his voice, it sounded more like he was just yelling it and not necessarily asking it. "So what is it that you do? You just put on this costume and run around fighting people? And then you tell me that this Spider-Man...why am I talking about him like he's a different person? You're telling me that you aren't the one responsible for Rhonda's death after I've been told for months that you are and I'm supposed to just believe it?"

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean for you to find out like this..."

"How then, Rob? Was I supposed to turn on the news and find out that the police shot you down in your costume? Was I supposed to read the paper tomorrow morning and see that you were killed by that maniac at the church tonight?"

"You know about the church?"

"Of course I know. The choir director, Sister Jennings, she called me and told me to turn to the news. She was one of the hostages that he had allowed to leave. The next thing I know, they say that he's demanding for Spider-Man to show up. I come upstairs to tell you what's going on, and you're not here! Can you imagine how scared I was, Rob? The last thing I knew, you had gone to bed. How was I supposed to react to that?"

"You're right, Dad," I said as I stared at the floor. "Tiffany called me and told me what was going on. I went down to the church to handle the situation..."

"And then the church was burned down!"

"Um...yeah. A fire was started while we were fighting..."

"And who was this person, anyway? Who was this man who wanted to meet you so badly? And was it just a coincidence that he happened to know what church you go to? Does he know who you are?"

"No, it's not a coincidence. He does know who I am..." I replied as I felt my stomach start to churn at the thought of it.

"Well, who is he?"

"His name is Norman Osborn," I said. "He's the one who made me into...into this."

There was an awkward pause. I took a deep breath, and decided to tell him everything right there.

"He's the one that killed Mom..." I said.

"Why? What had your mother ever done to him to make him want to kill her?" he asked.

"Nothing. She didn't do a thing...except try to apologize to me. He killed her because of me. This guy is beyond sick, Dad. And he did something to himself...turned himself into this creature. That's what I was fighting at the church tonight."

"Enough," he said as he turned away. "I've heard enough."

"Dad, you gotta believe me..."

"I don't want to!" he turned and screamed in my face. "I don't want to believe that any of this nonsense is supposed to be a part of normal, everyday life! Vigilantes and murderers and creatures...none of this makes any sense! I don't believe a word of it! You are not Spider-Man! No creature killed Rhonda! I refuse to believe this!"

He began to storm toward the door. I had to force him to get a grasp on all of this, as terrible as it made me feel. Reacting impulsively, I fired a web at the door, which slammed it shut and held it tight. He stopped and stared at the door in shock. He took a step back and turned to me, his expression begging for an explanation.

"Dad, I need you to believe this. Just hear me out. Please," I pleaded with him.

After a moment's hesitation, he took a seat on my bed. I slumped against the wall and ended up sliding downwards into a sitting position. I looked down and noticed my mask laying on the floor beside me. I picked it up and stared into its eyes.

"I agree, Dad. This is crazy. About as crazy as it gets," I said. "Some of what they say in the media is true. Most of the rumors about my abilities are true. Some are complete bull."

"Like what?" he asked. He was noticeably making an attempt to calm down.

"Well, I can climb walls, shoot webbing, I have what you would call 'super strength', I'm really flexible and faster than the average man...all those things they said were true. A lot of what they said was not true."

"Such as?"

"Well, for one thing, I can promise you that I do not eat people! I dunno who came up with that rumor but I oughta sue 'em!" I took a deep breath before continuing. "Also, I do not lay eggs. And I am not trying to buy out the Eagles and have their name changed to the Philadelphia Spiders."

"I'm not worried about all of that, Rob," he said. "I mean, I am, but what's more important is...why? Why do you do any of this?"

"Because..." I stared at my mask and thought long and hard about my response. "Because of power and responsibility. That's why I asked you about it. At first, I just did this as an impulse. I had powers, I figured it was something I could do. But the motivation wasn't really there. Until you and I had that talk. After that, I realized what I had gotten myself into. I knew I was in this for the long haul. This is something that I have to do, Dad."

There was another pause between us. I had expected him to yell at me some more, but maybe he was finally starting to understand. He cleared his throat and then looked up at me.

"Who else knows?" he asked.

"Tiffany knows. So does her mom. I haven't told Angel or Brian yet." I paused and gave it some thought. "Also, this guy named Nick Fury knows, but as far as I can tell, he's on my side."

"Who is he?"

"Some kind of government super-weirdo. Keeps tabs on the whole country, I think. Like some kind of National Security Agency on steroids."

We found ourselves sitting in silence once again. This was obviously a lot to take in, and I was disappointed that it didn't go as smoothly as the time I told Tiffany about all of this. I cleared my throat, cracked my knuckles, did anything to pass the seconds by. Eventually he spoke up.

"You're hurt," he said.

"Yeah, sorta..." I said as I rubbed my shoulder, which was still sore. Though, considering the beating I had taken, I'd say a sore shoulder was a blessing. "I'll live, though."

"So this...creature you say you fought...did you beat it?"

"Not exactly. It's...a very long, complicated story," I took a deep breath, leaned my head back against the wall, and closed my eyes. "Truth be told, this is probably the toughest fight I've been in since I became Spider-Man. And this is coming from a guy who fought a man-sized lizard."

"...what?"

"Everybody reacts that way when I tell them that..." I said with a chuckle.

"Son, I'm still having trouble getting a grasp on all of this. This is...a lot to take in..."

"Can't say that I blame you, Dad."

"I don't understand why you feel you need to do this. What makes this your responsibility? It can't just be because you have these...abilities."

"Well," I opened my eyes and looked at him. "It's hard to put into words. Maybe I want to make sure our family's legacy is a good one. Keep up your good example, ya know? I mean, you're a civil rights officer. You defend people you don't even know, just because you can. That's something to be proud of. But then you look at the other members of our family...one was a drug addict, and one sold drugs. I guess...I want to balance things out. I have the ability to help people, so there's no reason why I shouldn't try."

"I...I can understand that, Rob," he said as he stood up and walked toward me. I stood up as well.

"I'm sorry you found out this way, Dad," I said.

"Robert," he said, and he put a hand on my shoulder. "You're a good son. I'm glad you turned out the way you did. I don't know if you know how very proud of you I am."

Wow. I think we just had a Moment. This feels so Cosby Show, I thought.

"Thanks, Dad," was all I could say.

"We'll discuss this tomorrow. Today has been very long, and I think we both need to get a good night's sleep before we can speak seriously about the situation," he said.

I responded with a nod, and he nodded back. He took a step back toward my door, but paused when he saw the giant spider web that was still holding the door shut. I guess he forgot it was there.

"Rob..."

"Yes, Dad?"

"Get this off the door or you're grounded."

"Yes, Dad."

I walked past him and tore the webbing off of the door. He patted me on the shoulder as he exited my room.

"Goodnight, son," he said.

"Goodnight, Dad," I replied.

With that, I closed the door and collapsed onto my bed. He was right: it was a long day. Longest day of my life, truth be told. And I had entirely too much to think about. I didn't look forward to having the talk with him in the morning, but at least the ice had been broken. For the moment, I just wanted to get a good night's sleep. It occurred to me that there was still school the next morning, and knowing him, he'd make me go anyway. Being a superhero would not be an excuse for skipping school, in his eyes. I wasn't even worried about taking a shower or taking off the costume, at this point. I just shut my eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.

And then the phone rang.

"Goddamnit!" I yelled as I jumped out of the bed. I do mean "jumped" literally. I was actually stuck to the ceiling as a result. Falling back to the floor, I picked up the phone.

Who the hell would be calling me this late? I wondered.

"Hello?"

"Rob, oh my God! Are you alright? What happened? I thought you were killed!" It was Tiffany, and she was talking very, very fast.

"Whoa whoa whoa, Tif! Slow down!"

"Baby, are you okay?" she asked as she struggled to slow herself down.

"Yeah, I'm fine...ish."

"I'm sorry I'm calling so late. I've been watching the news this whole time, and you didn't call me so I thought something happened to you. I was gonna wait until tomorrow to see you at school, but I was too worried."

"It's cool, babe. I appreciate the concern."

"Is it true what they said? Did he really kill all those police officers?"

"Yeah, it's true," I shut my eyes and tried to shut out the mental image of him tearing through them.

"The last thing they said was that a helicopter crashed into a building, and then you both disappeared."

"It's a long story, Tif, and I promise I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. But right now there's an even bigger story."

"Bigger than this?"

"Yeah...my dad knows."

"Knows what?"

"He...knows."

I could hear Tiffany gasp into the phone.

"How...how did he take it?"

"He...uh...he took it. That's all I can really say."

"Rob, what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna go to sleep. That's all I can think to do at this point. There's entirely too much to tell you about. No way I'm gonna be able to tell it all in one night."

"Oh, okay..."

I was about to hang up, but then something hit me.

"Wait a minute..."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Tif. You said there was something you wanted to talk to me about, didn't you?"

"Oh, that...it can wait, Rob. You've been through a lot today."

"That's no excuse. I gotta stop making you take a backseat to this crap. You're my lady. You're Number One to me. I always got time for you."

"Rob, that's so sweet. And thoughtful. But this news is too big for tonight. I really think we should wait until tomorrow."

"Big news?" I asked. "Okay, now I'm really interested! C'mon, is it good news or bad news?"

"Um...depends..."

"Can't be any worse than everything that happened today. Besides, you obviously have been wanting to get this off your chest for a long time."

"It's not something I can just say over the phone..."

"Tell me, woman!"

"Rob, no!"

I was taken aback by that. I don't think I had ever heard so much force in her voice before. Whatever it was she wanted to talk about, it was damned serious.

"Tiffany...is it really that bad?"

She didn't reply. At first there was silence for a few seconds. But then I could hear a faint sound on the other end. She was crying.

"Tiffany, baby, talk to me," I said. I was starting to get worried. "Do you want me to come over? I'll swing right by."

"No, Rob...don't..." She began to cry even harder. "Just...just go to bed. I'll see you in school tomorrow. We can talk then..."

"No, Tiffany. Tell me what's wrong."

"Rob...you love me, right?"

"Of course I do. Why would you ask that?"

"I mean, no matter what...we both love each other..."

"Absolutely. There's nothing the two of us can't face together," I said.

"Rob, I love you so much...I wanted to tell you before but there was always something happening...and you were doing so much good for people, there was no way I could put all of this on you..."

"Tiffany," I said, trying as hard as I could to keep my voice calm and reassuring. "Just tell me."

"Rob..."

I could hear Tiffany trying to compose herself. She took a deep breath, paused, and then spoke. And no Spider-Sense could prepare me for what she said next.

"I'm pregnant..."

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY