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It’s only when they get to headquarters that Gwen realizes how badly everything hurts.
Adrenaline. What a joy, isn’t it? She immediately misses it. Now she’s here with her stupid injuries, this stupid medical kit, and her stupid broken suit—
“All good?” Jessica peeks her head in. “You looked a little rough back there.”
Gwen lights up a little, sits up straighter—it’s the cool Spider-Woman! She swats away some of the antiseptic that Miguel gave her, which knocks the bottle and—um, she should pick it up again—
“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” Jessica says, chuckling, as she takes a seat in front of Gwen. “You look like you kinda need it.”
“Right! Right. I was… picking it up, of course,” Gwen holds it up nervously. She's so making a fool of herself. She's been Spider-Woman for so long, what is this? “I'm sorry. I'm a bit nervous.”
“I can imagine,” she says, grabbing a bit of cotton from her. Before Gwen can interrupt with noonono I can do it myself I've done it before, Jessica simply disinfects the cuts for her. “Damn, we have to get your suit fixed. You didn't bring any spare ones with you, did you?”
Gwen sighs. “No, I… I only had an extra one at home. And—not like I'm coming back anytime soon.”
Jessica’s mouth twists into a frown, her eyes softening up.
“I'm sorry for what happened back there,” Jessica says kindly. “That was your dad, wasn't it?”
Gwen lets out another sigh, deeper this time. She wants to lie down on the floor and not get up from it for a good week. Her ears hurt, still. If she closes her eyes too long, she can hear the gunshot over and over, about to be arrested.
“Yeah,” Gwen admits. “It’s not—he’s not usually like that. I… he thinks I killed my best friend, and I didn’t. Obviously... I could never… but he doesn’t get it. He’s—he’s a good cop, he was trying—”
Jessica chuckles, “Gwen. There is no such thing as a good cop,” she says. She grabs her other arm, beginning the cleaning once again. “You don’t need to make excuses. It’s tough, it’s your dad, but he’s a cop and he tried to throw you in jail.”
The gunshot goes off in her head again. Gwen closes her eyes. It’s—her dad wouldn’t have killed her, would he?
Maybe the fact she’s questioning it should be a red flag in itself.
“I didn’t kill my best friend,” Gwen says out loud. It still weighs on her, the murder accusation. Has been on her shoulders for so long now. “I would have never done that.”
Would she?
Peter’s lifeless body was in her arms, and really, couldn’t she have handled it better?
“Of course you didn’t,” Jessica says matter-of-factly. The small gasp that leaves Gwen is involuntary. “Who could ever believe that?”
Well, no one had ever told her the opposite so far. And—she hadn’t—she hadn’t had anyone to tell it to, either.
“You’d be surprised,” she says, trying to force a laugh out. Jessica joins in. “I, so… thank you. For taking me in.”
“You have potential, kid. These things we’re doing here, I think you’re going to fit right in.” She squeezes her hand briefly, aiming for reassurance, and it melts away some of Gwen’s worries. “Miguel can bring you up to speed tomorrow. For now, rest and recover, okay? You’re safe now.”
“Thank you,” Gwen says, genuinely. “I had nowhere to turn to. I—I owe you guys one.”
“Nah, none of that. We’re Spider-Woman, aren’t we? Just make sure you do your part and show us the best version of it that you can be.”
Her smile turns into a grin. “You got it.”
The best version of Spider-Man that she can be.
It’s an oxymoron. There’s blood on her hands. She cannot wear this mask because she’s a murderer, no matter how much she’s trying to convince herself that she isn’t. It doesn’t send her into a panic anymore, it just… it’s like defeat takes over her body.
Still. It’s hard to keep pessimistic thoughts around Pavitr.
“All in a day’s work!” says Pavitr, finishing up the webbing on their latest anomaly catch—this time it’s the Green Goblin from Earth-7211 suddenly ending up on Earth-940. “Man, this thing is easy. I could do it with my eyes closed! Spider-Woman, check this out!” He closes his eyes and gives the Goblin one last web. “Sick, right?”
“Sick, yeah,” she says back as Pavitr continues to boast about his abilities. God, he had so much confidence. “How do you do it?” she asks.
“Do what? Throwing webs? You have to know that—”
“No, no. I mean, being this confident. It just seems like it comes so easily to you. I guess I’m a little jealous of you.”
“Gwen! How could you possibly be jealous of me? You’re already so cool, dude!”
“Aw,” Gwen smiles under her mask. “Thanks. But I mean it, like, you don’t—you don’t hesitate. It’s like a breeze to you.”
“Well,” he puts a hand on his chin. Behind them, the rest of the Spider-people take care of the Goblin anomaly. “I am cooler than most people. Let me think about this. How do I manage to be this amazing?”
“Take your time,” Gwen says. “I’m sure this would take you all day.”
“You’re right, I’m pretty flawless,” he says as if it’s such a struggle to be so perfect. Gwen snickers. “I guess one thing you could do is take care of your hair. It’s very damaged. Must be all those dye jobs.”
“It’s damaged?” Gwen mumbles. Is it?
“Still! It’s all about enjoying yourself!” Pavitr puts an arm around her shoulders, gesturing around them. “Look at all of that! Do you see the sky?”
“I see it!” In this universe, in fact, it’s all in shades of green.
“That’s our limit! We can do whatever we want, anytime we want, and not just that—we get to share it with everyone!” Pavitr pats her shoulder now, letting her go. “We get to spread joy like that! How would you not feel confident when you can make someone smile?”
“I just don’t think I’m good at making people smile,” Gwen admits, a little too honest. She reels it back in. “I—I mean, I’m not funny.”
“I laugh a lot with you, Gwen. Have more faith!”
“What are we laughing about?” Hobie asks, popping out of nowhere, as casual as he could be. Pavitr lights up; visible all the way even with his mask on.
“Hobie!” He extends his arms for a hug that Hobie easily receives. “You missed all the action!”
“Hey, Hobie,” Gwen bumps her fist with his, still not quite ready for the hug-greetings Pavitr is so fond of doing. “We just wrapped up over here.”
“Oh, nice. I wasn’t going to come here, but I heard you guys were around, so I dropped by to pick Gwen up. What were you on about?”
“Gwen’s a little insecure,” Pavitr says.
“Pavitr!”
“Honestly, it’s heartbreaking, she’s so cool. She’s like a tragic princess. I was telling her not everyone can be as cool as me, but she’s pretty good.”
Hobie breaks out laughing. “You’re the best motivational speaker, Pav.”
“I can’t help it!”
“It’s just,” Gwen interrupts them again. “How do you know what you’re doing, Hobie? I feel like everyone knows how to be Spider-Man, except me.”
Hobie turns his attention to her now. She doesn’t need him to take off his mask to know she’s being scrutinized. Hobie’s her age, and yet, somehow he always feels like he’s so much wiser than her.
“Nobody knows what they’re doing, Gwen. That’s the whole thing.”
“I do,” Pavitr says. “It’s not that hard.”
“Pavitr is an exception that makes the rule,” Hobie points out. Pavitr nods enthusiastically next to him. “I’d say the fact you’re doubting already makes you a good Spider-Man.”
“I feel like I shouldn’t be doubting, though. People count on me. And I’ve just—” she looks at her hands. “I’ve done… things I’m not proud of. I just can’t be sure of anything like this.”
Hobie shrugs. “If you’re not doubting, you’re one step closer to being compliant. You need to question everything, all the time. If you’re sure of everything, then they got you. And you don’t want them to get you, Gwen. Trust me.”
Gwen frowns. “But they seem to have everything under control. The Spider-society, I mean. And they’re clearly doing better than I am—”
“If a system tells you it has everything under control and its way is the best, you gotta make a run for it and trust yourself,” Hobie points the neck of his guitar at her. “That’s all the advice I got. Want to grab food together, lads?”
“Oooh, I’m starving,” Pavitr says, vibrating next to Hobie again. “You always read my mind, Hobie, I’m telling you: we have a soul connection.”
“Absolutely,” Hobie agrees solemnly. “Gwen? You coming with us?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” she nods, but her head is hung up on everything Hobie said. Pavitr’s advice also paces around inside her thoughts, trying to make sense of it all. “Sure. Last one to arrive pays?”
She swings away before any of them could make a run for it, laughing, and trying to spread that joy around.
“Look at how cute you both are being,” Peter takes another photo of her and Mayday. “Look at you! Absolutely adorable!”
“I got it the last time,” Gwen says, passing him his baby. Mayday pats her cheeks before leaving her arms, making her smile again. “How was your mission?”
“Oh, pretty good. Got a version of Sandman that was just mud this time. I really want to be shocked, but honestly, I don’t think anything can shock me anymore.”
“Careful with what you wish for,” Gwen warns, shaking her head. “Now the next mission you go to, you’ll find like, a version of the Vulture that’s just a pterodactyl.”
Peter whistles. “I mean, I’m sure T-Rex Spider-Man has something to say about that.”
“God, I forgot about him.”
“See? Told you nothing shocks me anymore,” Peter tickles Mayday casually, like him being affectionate with his daughter isn’t even an effort—just something he does as instinct. “Well, I guess I’m lying. I am shocked about something.”
“What?” Gwen arches an eyebrow at him. This is definitely going somewhere.
“You accepting to babysit Mayday,” Peter sits down on the floor, Mayday settling nicely against him. She closes her eyes, tired of playing with Gwen all afternoon. “I usually ask Hobie because you’re always avoiding me.”
Gwen shuts her eyes tightly. She inhales. “So you noticed that.”
“Pretty obvious, kid,” Peter smiles. At least he’s not offended. “Want to sit down and talk to me about it? No pressure.”
“I mean…” Gwen sits down, crosses her legs. Looks at Mayday instead of at Peter. “I guess I can’t really keep putting this off.”
“You can take your time. You can also hold Mayday for support if you need to.”
“No offense, but I’ve held Mayday enough for a day,” Gwen says. Peter laughs. “My arms are tired.”
“Who’s daddy’s little heavy spider? You are!” he tells Mayday, but Mayday is a little too sleepy to actually care.
Could Peter have been a good father?
Her Peter?
He would’ve looked like him. Every time she looks at Peter, it’s a reminder that her Peter would never be this age. There was no blood pouring out of him when he died, but every time Gwen looks down at her hands, all she sees is red.
“I lost my best friend, Peter Parker, over a year ago,” Gwen confesses quietly. “I—I thought I was over it. But going back home, living with my dad, and recent events just… made me realize… maybe I’m not as over it as I thought I was.”
Peter’s mouth goes on a thin line. “I’m sorry for your loss, kid. I get it.”
“It’s not just that,” Gwen continues. She inhales. “I killed him.”
“What?”
“There was so much I could have done. I just—” Gwen looks at her hands again. Helplessness fills her to the brim. “I couldn’t save him. I was so close. And he—he died, even after I tried to interfere. It’s like…” her voice drops to a whisper. “Like I delivered the killing blow.”
Peter looks heartbroken. “I’m sorry, Gwen.”
“It’s okay,” Gwen hurries to say. This is gonna make everything even more awkward between them, as if Gwen avoiding him wasn’t enough. “I’ll—I’ll get over it, and we’ll continue like normal. I know you’re not him. It’s just, you know, thoughts are so stupid sometimes, and—”
“You’re rambling,” he says. Gwen stops immediately. It actually makes Peter laugh. “I get it. Actually, hearing you talk helped me come to terms with something else.”
“Really?”
“I knew Gwen Stacy, once,” Peter looks down at Mayday, like she could bring him comfort. Right off the bat, the words out of his mouth are like throwing a bucket of icy water on her. “She was also my best friend. And God, I loved her so much.”
“...and she died, didn’t she?” Gwen finishes carefully. “I—I keep noting that pattern in the universes I go to.”
“Yeah, she did,” Peter says. “For the longest time, I was convinced I killed her. I was so close to saving her, you know? Like, very close. That’s probably the worst part—the part where I thought I saved her, only to find out I had killed her. But you know what?”
Gwen tilts her head.
“I just heard you say you killed your best friend, and I just couldn’t believe it. I’ve been where you are, kid. I know that guilt is inescapable. But take it from me—you tried to save him. And, I guess, take it from a Peter Parker—he would never blame you for this.”
Gwen puts the heel of her palms against her eyes, forcing herself to not cry. Peter immediately reaches out, but Gwen doesn’t let his hand fall on her. He’s too fatherly, and that wound is one she hasn’t even begun to dissect. One thing a time.
She stays quiet until her voice settles again. Peter, dying in her arms. He had just wanted to be special, like Gwen, when he had already been so special. He didn’t even sound mad, he didn’t even sound like he hated Spider-Woman, he had just… wanted to be special.
“Thank you,” she finally speaks up when she finds her voice. “That—means a lot. And, um, as a Gwen Stacy—I would never, ever blame you, either. I’m sure—I’m sure she didn’t.”
Peter smiles and it makes him look older than usual. “Yeah. I realized that today.” Peter looks at her again. “You sure you don’t want to hold Mayday again? I tell you, she’s got healing properties.”
“I’m good,” Gwen says. “Thanks, Peter. For real. I was—I just thought—this was on me. I could not be a good Spider-Man if I had this blood on my hands.”
“Oh, kid, if we stopped being Spider-Man because of the people we couldn’t save, none of us would be here,” Peter shakes his head, chuckling. “It’s gonna hurt a lot, Gwen. You’ll remember every single person you won’t save. But you’ll save so many. And so many people will be happy you exist. At the end of the day, there's no formula for being Spider-Man. We’re just doing what we can.”
“We’re just doing what we can,” Gwen repeats. It rings truer when she repeats it. “Thanks, Peter. I wish I could repay you.”
“You can always babysit Mayday more,” he grins a little. “But Hobie’s a better babysitter. He’s convinced Mayday is a secret anarchist icon.”
“Is she?”
“I don’t know. He makes a solid case each time. It’s hard not to believe him.”
Gwen chuckles, lighter than she’s felt in ages. Now that she’s around Peter, she realizes she’s missed him—he’s like the lamest teacher in the world, but she’s a tiniest bit fond of him. The same way you’d be fond of your ex-middle school teacher.
At the same time, it makes her wish Miles was here.
Gwen inhales again as Peter continues talking. One thing at a time.
Maybe she should’ve started from the beginning.
“What’s your secret?” she asks Miles as they reach a clock tower. “What’s your secret to being Spider-Man?”
“Oh!” Miles pipes up, brightening up. “How so? Like, how I swing, or…?”
“No, no, how you’re just… you,” Gwen says. She gestures at all of him. “You just… seem to embody being Spider-Man. You make it look effortless. Like you’re just… that much of a nice person, you know?”
“My God, Gwen, that’s too nice,” he rubs his neck, clearly embarrassed. But Gwen is being genuine. She looks at him, expectant, like he could finally spell it out for her what exactly she needs to do. She’s trying to forgive herself, she’s trying to forgive what she’s done to Peter, she’s trying so much. And yet it’s not enough. It’s not the best version of Spider-Man she could be. “Honestly, I… It’s gonna sound silly, but I just do my own thing. You know? My way—and that’s what makes me happy. It’s probably not what you wanted to hear, but—it just is how it is, I guess. I don’t like being tied to expectations too much, and I fall into that like, a lot—buut, I’m really just trying to live according to what makes me happy. No standards to reach. Or at least I try to.”
Miles just had such a knack for making the most complicated things sound easy. Sound natural, even. Gwen breaks into a huge smile, and Miles smiles back nervously, as if he doesn’t understand what he just did.
It’s probably what everyone’s been trying to tell her. But God, it always feels so nice when it comes to Miles.
“That was a great answer, Spider-Man, thank you,” Gwen tells him, bumping his shoulder with her own. “I owe you a lot.”
“I’m happy to help,” he says, genuinely as he can only be, and Gwen feels herself smiling even wider.
Maybe, if she kept trying, she could also figure out what her way was.