INT. MARTINEZ APARTMENT - NIGHT
The apartment is quiet. Leo is asleep. The only light comes from under Martinez's bedroom door. She sits at her desk, the torn newspaper article and the printed police report laid out before her like sacred relics. Her heart hammers not with excitement now, but with a deep, trembling conviction.
She picks them up. The proof feels heavy in her hands.
She walks to the living room. David is in his armchair, reading a bank report. Maria is on the couch, grading papers.
MARTINEZ
(Mom? Dad? We need to talk.)
Her voice is calm, but it carries a weight that makes them both look up. David puts down his report. Maria sets aside her red pen.
DAVID
"Everything okay, mija? You look serious."
MARTINEZ
"I need to know why you lied to me."
She places the papers on the coffee table between them. The torn article with "ELECTRO" and "S..." The official police report with its black redactions.
MARIA
(Her face pales)
"Oh, honey... where did you get those?"
DAVID
(His voice tightens)
"What is this?"
MARTINEZ
"It's the truth. The truth you didn't tell me. Spider-Man was real. He fought Electro at the Times Square electrical station on October 26, 2012. The police were there. They filed a report. He was real."
David stands up slowly. A storm gathers in his eyes.
DAVID
"You went digging. After we told you to leave it alone."
MARTINEZ
"Because you were lying! You told me it was a story! A fairy tale! But he was REAL! People saw him! He saved people! Why would you make me think it wasn't true?"
DAVID
(Voice rising)
"Because it's DANGEROUS! Because that... that time was a NIGHTMARE!"
MARIA
"David, please..."
DAVID
"No, Maria! She wants the truth? Fine!"
He picks up the police report, his hands shaking not with fear, but with a deep, old anger.
DAVID
"You see this? This 'proof'? This is why we don't talk about it. Because for every time he saved someone, there was a day like this. A battle. Explosions. People running for their lives. The city was a war zone."
He looks at his daughter, and for a moment, the angry father is gone. In his eyes, she sees the ghost of a younger man—a man who was scared.
DAVID
(Softer now)
"2012. You were just a toddler, Martinez. You don't remember. But I do. I worked downtown. Your mother and I... we'd watch the news every night. Another bridge attack. Another crane about to fall. A man in a rhino suit smashing through Queens. A man made of electricity turning off the power for half of Manhattan."
He sinks back into his armchair, the fight gone out of him, replaced by exhaustion.
DAVID
"He'd show up. He'd fight. And we'd cheer. We really did. We'd all look up. For a little while, it felt like we had a guardian angel. Someone who could fix the unfixable."
Maria moves to sit beside him, taking his hand. She looks at Martinez, her eyes full of a sad understanding.
MARIA
"He saved my school bus once. Did I ever tell you that?"
Martinez shakes her head, her anger melting into stunned silence.
MARIA
"It was 2011. A truck lost control on the BQE. Our bus driver swerved... we were hanging over the edge of the overpass. I was holding two crying first-graders, sure we were going to fall."
She smiles, a distant, wistful smile.
MARIA
"And then there was a thwip sound. And a red and blue blur. And the bus... it just lifted. Gently. Back onto the road. He landed on the roof for just a second. One of the kids, a little boy named Sam, he was sitting by the window. He said the hero gave him a thumbs-up before he swung away."
Tears glisten in Maria's eyes.
MARIA
"For that moment, he was everything. He was hope."
DAVID
(His voice is a low rumble)
"And then it changed. The fights got bigger. The villains got worse. The news stopped calling him a hero. They started calling him a 'vigilante.' A 'menace.' The city... we got tired. We were grateful, but we were also terrified. Every siren made you wonder if this was the day your building came down."
He points at the redacted name on the police report.
DAVID
"This? This 'S*** ***MAN'? This is what's left of him. The government did that. They didn't just remove websites, Martinez. They tried to remove the *memory*. They called it 'public safety.' They said it was to prevent copycats. To stop people from glorifying dangerous vigilante behavior."
MARTINEZ
"But that's wrong! He was a hero!"
DAVID
"He was a **person**! A person who disappeared! And when someone that powerful vanishes, people in charge get nervous. They ask questions they can't answer. 'What if he turns against us?' 'What if he was working for someone else?' 'What if he's dead, and someone else finds his technology?'"
He leans forward, his gaze intense.
DAVID
"So they made a choice. They decided it was less scary for people to believe it was all a hoax, a mass hallucination, than to admit that a man with the power to change the world just... walked away. They didn't want a generation of kids looking up at rooftops, waiting for a savior who wasn't coming back. They wanted you looking forward. At doctors, teachers, engineers. Real heroes."
The room is quiet. The truth hangs in the air, heavy and complicated.
MARTINEZ
(Her voice small)
"So the last time anyone saw him... it was the fight with Electro? And the Green Goblin at the Oscorp tower?"
Maria and David share a look. A memory passes between them, dark and unspoken.
MARIA
"The Goblin... that was different. That was personal. That wasn't just a fight for the city. That was... a tragedy. After that night, things got quiet. Too quiet. And then one day, we just stopped seeing him. No grand farewell. No final battle. He was just... gone."
David looks at his daughter, really looks at her. He sees not a little girl chasing fantasies, but a young woman seeking truth.
DAVID
"I didn't lie to you to be mean, mija. I lied to protect you. From the disappointment. From the questions with no answers. From wanting to live in a world that doesn't exist anymore."
Martinez looks down at the evidence on the table. The proof of a hero. And the proof of his erasure.
MARTINEZ
"I just wanted to know he was real. That good people did exist. That someone once looked at this city and decided to help, just because it was the right thing to do."
Maria gets up and comes to sit beside her daughter. She wraps an arm around her shoulders.
MARIA
"He was real, sweetheart. And for a little while, he made us all believe we could be better. That's the truth. That's what they can't redact. That feeling... of looking up."
David nods, his anger fully gone, replaced by a deep, paternal sadness.
DAVID
"The world moved on. It had to. But your mother's right. For those of us who were there... who saw him swing between the buildings on a sunny afternoon, just because he could... we remember. We don't talk about it. But we remember."
He reaches out and puts his hand over the police report, covering the redacted name.
DAVID
"Some ghosts are best left in the past. Not because they weren't good, but because missing them... hurts too much."
Martinez leans into her mother, the tears finally coming. Not angry tears. Sad ones. For a hero lost to time. For a city that chose to forget. For the weight of a truth that is more painful than the lie.
Outside, the fog has finally lifted. The skyline of New York is clear and sharp against the night sky.
No one is looking up.