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The ride down to the RIPeter’s Spider-cave was a silent one. Gwen leaned against the wall of the elevator, her arms crossed over each other. Peter B. huddled close to the adjacent wall, his shoulders hunched and his hands balled up in the pockets of his jacket. He kept his gaze trained straight ahead.
As soon as the doors slid open, Gwen pushed herself off the wall and slipped out into the basement. The heavy footfalls of Peter trailed after her. She set her pace towards the enormous computer screen that took up almost the entirety of one of the walls, hoping that Peter would go find something else to occupy himself with. However, his long shadow remained in the corner of her eye. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d take the hint and go away.
Gwen collapsed into the padded chair in front of the computer. Her head was still pounding and her back ached something awful from that hit she’d taken earlier. Peter remained silent, but Gwen felt the chair tilt back a little further as he rested his weight on top of it.
Determined to ignore him, Gwen plugged in the passcode and clicked through folders to reach the data files on missions. She quickly created a new one and began plugging in details.
Peter B. and Gwen...mission: Doc Ock confrontation...villain: escaped...mission: failed...injuries sustained:
The cursor blinked at Gwen in an accusatory manner. It was no big deal, nothing even worth documenting. She typed none before moving on to the mission summary. She wasn’t even able to begin typing before her chair was spun around so forcefully, she almost fell out of it.
Peter was staring down at Gwen, one arm still clutching the armrest of the chair, the other resting on his hip. She would have laughed at the stance, if it wasn’t for his expression. Deep lines, that made him seem older stretched across Peter’s forehead. His lips were warped by a sharp scowl. The worst part of his expression was his eyes.
They were dragged down by dark shadows and rimmed red from a combination of being up all night and the tears he’d shed earlier that night. He was by no means in good shape, yet, despite all of that, he still managed to look concerned for her. And Gwen—well she hated that. The old man should be worried about himself.
“Really, Gwen?” he asked, his tone thick was and frenzied, “no...injuries...sustained?”
Peter made a special point to draw out every syllable.
Sick of being scrutinized, Gwen ducked under Peter’s arm and slipped out of the chair. He could have stopped her if he wanted; no doubt his Spider-Sense would have alerted him to her action beforehand. Yet, Peter just let her stalk away from the computer. She could still feel his eyes on her back.
Gwen didn't have to answer to him. She was just as much Spider-Man as he was.
“So that’s it then?” Peter shouted. “ You’re not even gonna try and explain yourself! This whole thing must be some kind of joke to you!”
At that Gwen’s pace stuttered, but she forced herself to keep going. Peter clearly didn’t understand. This gig was anything, but a joke to her. That’s why she’d taken that hit for him because she’d seen first-hand what happened to people she couldn’t protect. Peter was right, this wasn’t a joke, not even close. It was life or death.
The elevator went blurry as tears began to push at her eyes. With a growl, Gwen swiped a hand across her face. She could cry all she wanted later, but not now; not in front of him. That was the last thing she needed Peter to see.
She’d reached the elevator when Peter’s voice echoed across the basement once more.
“Miles always tells us not to quit on things and I know you take everything that kid says to heart! If he were here right now, you know he’d be telling you the same thing I am!”
A pause and a sigh, the sound of Peter shifting his weight from foot to foot. This time, when he spoke, it was in a quiet sort of way.
“Don’t run from this, Gwen. I’ve tried it and it won’t end well.”
Peter’s voice got softer towards the end of his sentence. He was speaking the same exact way that her Peter used to. The sound of it wrapped around Gwen’s heart and squeezed so hard that it stole her breath away.
She never learned. This was how they got you. Gwen should have blocked him out, should have slapped her hands over ears and not stopped until she’d gotten out of this room with Peter. Now, she was stuck.
Gwen’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She was most certainly going soft. Miles had talked to her about opening up more, but it was just so hard.
As if sensing her distress, Peter walked crossed the basement to stand beside her. His hands twitched by his sides.
One of the only good things about meeting an alternate version of her dead best friend was that she already knew him like the back of her hand. Sure there were a few key differences between this Peter and hers (take age, for instance, this Peter had been allowed to grow old) but they had far more in common. From the way Peter's hands were twitching, she was almost certain that he wanted to hug her or comfort her in some way, but he just didn’t know how.
Good, Gwen thought to herself. Sure, she’d talk with Peter, but she wasn’t gonna make it easy for him either.
In the end, Peter settled on saying, “forget the data log, we can get back to that later. Why don’t we grab something to eat?”
He gently nudged her shoulder and said, “I know you must be hungry and your body needs some nutrients after…after a fight like that.”
He was going easy on her and Gwen hated him even more for it. He was making it harder and harder for her to stay mad. He’d mentioned something about there being a Gwen Stacey in his universe before; maybe he knew her like the back of his hand too.
Gwen nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. She reached out and hit the button for the elevator and the doors glided open. She stepped in and retreated to the back. Peter followed, sparing her one more worried look before turning to face the doors.
The line at the pizza place had been long, but as soon as one of the workers spotted the two Spider-People, he’d abandoned his mop and bucket to take their order. Gwen and Peter had three boxes of pizza in less than three minutes.
They considered eating there, but all the people staring and listening to them would have made it almost impossible to have a real conversation. So that was how they’d ended up on a rooftop, their legs hanging high above the skyscrapers and streets of Brooklyn.
Lately, Gwen had taken after Miles, wearing jackets over her Spider-Woman suit. In her universe, this time of year was pretty cold, but in Miles’, warm weather had lingered late into Autumn. Gwen shrugged out of her pale pink parka, instead choosing to enjoy the crisp breeze that would occasionally pass through the spot.
A sharp twinge in her stomach reminded Gwen that she was indeed hungry, so she tugged off her mask off and started on her first slice of the pizza.
If Peter wanted to have this conversation so bad, well then he could start it. Apparently, the older man was in no hurry, instead, happy to munch on his pizza and look out into the city. She couldn’t blame him; it was nice to look at.
Miles’ Brooklyn looked absolutely alive at night. Glass buildings captured the dark of the midnight sky in its depths. Neon fuschias and bright blues lit up every corner of the city in the form of street signs and advertisements. Pops of yellow won out in taxis and street lamps and the lights in the rooms of people who were still up at three-thirty in the morning. It was loud too, but not in an overwhelming way. More in the way that reminded her that thousands of other people were out there living their lives.
At first, Gwen was grateful for the silence but then it began to eat at her. How long were they just going to sit here? When would the conversation begin? Peter was just opening the third box of pizza when Gwen decided she couldn’t take it anymore.
“I just don’t see why we have to make it a big deal!”
Peter’s head whipped up with wide eyes. His hair floated for a bit before settling just above his forehead in that way her Peter’s used to. Gwen turned her attention to a neon sign across the street.
“I mean, yeah, I took a pretty nasty hit, but,” Gwen reached up to tentatively feel the back of her head, “it’s already healed over. What’s done is done, so I just don’t understand what there is to talk about.”
A long sigh blew past Peter’s lips and Gwen couldn’t help, but sneak a glance at him. He was slouched even further than usual and he’d placed the slice of pizza in his hand back into the box before turning his body completely towards her. They made eye contact for a few seconds before Gwen hurriedly dropped her gaze to her lap.
“The problem isn’t that you took that hit, although...I really wish you didn’t.”
Gwen couldn’t help but wince.
“Kid, the problem was that you took that hit for me. Doc Ock was aiming for me, you saw it coming and so did I and I was 100% ready to take it, but then you just came flying in out of nowhere and...and…”
“And you just didn’t know what to do,” Gwen finished for him.
She was confident that that’d be the right answer, but the scowl that flashed across Peter’s face said otherwise.
“No, no it was more than that, Gwen. I think—I think that it was—unfair...if that makes any sense.”
“No,” Gwen said, with a snort, “it doesn’t make any sense at all. If I’m understanding you correctly, you’re saying it was unfair of me to take a hit for you. If anything I did you a favor.”
“Well, what if I don’t want any favors?” Peter shot back. He ran a frantic hand through his hair and Gwen spotted a little string of cheese get tangled in the strands.
“How would you feel if that were me taking the hit for you! You would hate it, Gwen! You would hate it!”
Peter jumped to his feet and began to pace a little ways down the front side of the building. The sounds of the city dominated their space again. When Peter turned back around another breeze came through and his hair whipped around his face The lights of the city shone behind his body so that he was almost glowing with righteous energy.
“Don’t fight my battles for me,” Peter said, yelling to be heard. “I want all your energy to go into keeping yourself safe because yes, you’re Spider-Woman, and the whole city’s depending on you!”
Peter paced back up the side of the building until he was standing right side up again. He was turned away from her now; his arms were stationed firmly by his side and for once he was standing up straight. He looked every bit like the Spider-Man that existed in the comics.
“But...but Gwen—we need you too. I’ve lost so many people and I don’t think I could stand to lose another.”
Yes, Peter was tugging at her heartstrings, but losing people was part of putting on the suit. If anything, it was unfair of Peter to request this of her, to keep himself alive at his benefit. Gwen’s hands tightened around the concrete of the ledge. She let her head hang so that her hair would hide the anger in her expression.
“It’s my life Peter,” she said, her voice was little more than a whisper, “I do what I have to and if that means that I’ll die, well then so be it.”
“And I understand that.”
Gwen’s head whipped up to face him and, all of a sudden, Peter was looking at her again. His jaw was set as he pushed the pizza box aside to sit next to her.
“I swear that I do. There’s a reason superheroes and sacrifice start with the same letter.”
Peter reached over and hesitantly placed his hand on top of hers. Gwen didn’t move her hand away.
“All I’m asking is that you take care of yourself too. Spider-Woman’s job is to take care of all the citizens right?”
Gwen nodded.
“And last time I checked,” Peter said, “Gwen Stacey is a citizen too. She’s a real-life breathing person with family and friends that care about her and would hate to see her go. Spider-Woman has to keep Gwen Stacey safe because she still has her whole life ahead of her.”
Peter gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“Don’t you agree?”
New York City blurred beneath her and all the lights began to dance. Colors came together like brush strokes on a canvas and it looked as if Gwen was falling into the sky. She blinked and her Spidey-Sense enabled her to track her tears as they fell down into the city streets.
“Okay,” she said, voice thick and not sounding very much like herself.
“Okay?” Peter asked, his voice twinging with confusion.
“Okay,” Gwen repeated, “as in, okay, you got through my thick skull. Nice job.”
A laugh hiccuped from Peter, his shoulders jumping with the movement. Gwen gave his hand one more squeeze, which Peter returned before standing and pulling her to her feet.
“What time is it, anyway?” Gwen asked, with a yawn and a stretch.
Peter pushed up the sleeves of his jacket and glanced at his watch.
“It’s four o’clock in the AM now. If you’re up for it, we could swing by Miles’ place and see if he wants the rest of this pizza. He must have been extra hungry after his exhibit. Plus, I can’t believe I'm saying this, but I’m actually kind of full.”
“Wow. You full?” Gwen teased poking at Peter’s stomach, “I didn’t even know that was possible.”
Peter crossed his arms over himself and a pretend pout settled across his face.
“You youths can be so mean.”
“Not all the time,” Gwen said. Then in a spur of the moment decision, she reached over and wrapped her arms around Peter, enveloping him in a hug.
“Thank you for what you said” she mumbled, “it was something I really needed to hear.”
“Well, someone's gotta watch out for you kids,” Peter said, with a gentle pat to her back. "I'm glad that someone gets to be me."