Chapter Text
As one might expect from an inner city public school, Midtown's buses were in contention with gas station bathrooms and the inside of a trash compactor for the dubious honor of 'Nastiest Place on Earth.'
It wasn't a place for people who were faint of heart or nose, but Gwen and Peter weren't either of those things. Not that there was any alternative even if they were, of course. But, regardless, growing up in old NYC, if nothing else, bestowed a strong constitution. And they'd long since grown accustomed to the rancid stench that permeated the air, the sticky feeling of the seats and floor, and the way the bus rattled and shook every time it hit even the smallest of potholes, which was a lot.
The bus driver hit another pothole hard enough to nearly send the kids on the back row tumbling to the front and Gwen careening into Peter, nearly falling into his lap. Peter laughed, a bright and cheerful sound that was music to Gwen's ears, as he helped her upright with the hand that wasn't tightly clutching his backpack to his chest.
"Thanks, Peter." Gwen said, trying and failing to keep a blush off her cheeks and play off the butterflies in her stomach and the way her heart raced as she pulled her shoulder-length blonde hair away from her eyes.
"Don't mention it." He said with a smile that was somehow both shy and self-assured at the same time, something Gwen didn't understand how anyone could pull off, let alone a fourteen year old boy, as he adjusted his glasses. "Reminds you of the Cyclone at Coney, doesn't it?"
"Obscene lack of safety features, smell of vomit, and the occasional near-death experience?" She asked as she shifted into a more comfortable position. "Yup. Just like the Cyclone."
Peter laughed, but it quickly gave way to a scowl as a piece of crumpled paper bounced off the back of his head. Neither of them needed to turn around to know who it was.
"Hey Parker!" Flash Thompson called, and Gwen resisted the urge to groan.
Flash and his cronies had been picking on Peter, and to a lesser extent, her, for years, and it had only gotten worse when they entered high school. But, as usual, as soon as Gwen started to move to confront him, Peter grabbed her wrist, shaking his head.
"Just ignore him. He's not worth it."
Gwen frowned deeply, but reluctantly nodded. She knew he was right, of course, that retaliating against Midtown's youngest star football player wasn't worth the trouble, and that Peter wasn't one to make a fuss. And, if she was being honest, she has absolutely no idea what she would actually do if Peter didn't stop her. Sure she had some choice words in mind, but she already knew that wouldn't do anything but make it worse for the both of them. She knew it, but that didn't mean she had to like it.
In fact she hated it. Hated that the school never did and would never do anything about it. And that without the school on their side, neither she or Peter could do anything about it, as even if they did retaliate in some way, which was a terrible idea, the school would undoubtedly take Flash's side in whatever ensued. Hated that she had to watch it play out nearly every day, and couldn’t do anything to fix it.
"Yo, I'm talking to you, Penis!" Flash called again, throwing another crumpled paper. It flew right past Gwen's head, missing by a mile, but she flinched anyway, though her abysmal reflexes sent her in the wrong direction and closer to the projectile's path, ironically.
"Penis Parker! Penis Parker! Penis Parker!" The other jocks, Flash's cronies, chanted as the bully tossed a balled up piece of paper that bounced off the back of Peter's head and into the seat behind them.
"It's fine, Gwen." Peter whispered, a frown on his lips as he kept his eyes firmly forward, and Gwen finally noticed that his free hand, the one that wasn't gripping his backpack, was still holding onto her wrist, and in complete contrast to the white-knuckled death grip his other hand had on the backpack, his hold on her was so gentle she'd barely felt it, and she wondered if he even realized he was doing it. And again Gwen's face heated up, in spite of how hard she tried to push the feelings down.
"Alright, alright. Cut it out back there." The teacher chaperone that Gwen had honestly forgotten existed, an overweight and middle-aged man with greasy, slicked-back hair that Gwen was pretty sure taught a language class, called from his seat at the front of the bus.
Flash glared at him, then turned to the jocks behind him and gestured with his hands and eyes, telling them to knock it off.
The teacher looked away, apparently content, as the chanting subsided, and Flash went back to whatever it was he was doing, but not before throwing another balled up piece of paper at Peter's head, and he sighed as it bounced off the back of his head, before finally releasing Gwen's wrist, and her heart sank a little when she felt the absence of his touch.
"Sorry." He muttered, looking away from her and out the window, and she felt a pang of disappointment in her gut as he did.
There was a part of Gwen that wanted to tell him that he could hold her hand whenever he wanted. A part of her that wanted to reach out and grab his and never let go. But she didn't. She couldn't. And the moment passed.
"For what?" She asked, forcing a smile and a laugh as she did, but when Peter didn't say anything she frowned and added, "He's an idiot."
Peter took a breath and turned back to her, and shrugged easily, his frustration at the situation seemingly gone in an instant, "Yeah, he is. It's fine, though." And with an ease that Gwen simultaneously envied and wished he wouldn't use, Peter changed the subject, like nothing had happened, "Hey, so, Oscorp. That's gonna be cool. Did you read Connor's latest paper?"
And just like that, Peter had moved past it. It was as impressive as it was frustrating, the way he could just... let it go like that. Have it all roll right off his shoulders. But that was Peter. Kind, brilliant, and so, so shy and anxious. Always willing to forgive and forget and move on in an instant.
She never could tell whether or not it was a good thing, and thinking about it always made the anger inside her at the unfairness of it all flare up again.
"Yeah," Gwen answered, forcing herself to match his change in demeanor and the subject, and trying her best to hide her worry for him, pulling her mind away from Flash Thompson, as she pushed her hair out of her face, "The one about his cross-species genetics project?"
Peter nodded, eyes lighting up, "Yeah. The implications of that are... huge, right?"
"Definitely." Gwen nodded, finally relaxing and letting the tension fade, the way Peter seemed to have done. She refused to let Flash ruin their field trip. She and Peter had been looking forward to this ever since they'd first heard about it. After all, though Oscorp's stock prices mostly came from their military contract work, they also held host to some of the most celebrated minds, the most advanced inventions, and the most state-of-the-art labs in the world. From Doctor Curt Connors, the head of Oscorp's bio-science division, to legendary inventor and roboticist Doctor Otto Octavius, to Norman Osborn himself, genius scientist, philanthropist, and founder of Oscorp, Oscorp was not just on the cutting edge of science and technology, it was the cutting edge.
It presented real opportunities for up-and-coming minds and research, ones that weren't available anywhere else, not even in the nation's top universities. Oscorp was her dream, her future, and it had been ever since she'd first picked up a science textbook. It was a place where she could do something important. Something that actually mattered. That would make a real difference.
Oscorp was the reason Gwen was certain she'd one day make the world a better place.
Today was no less than a glimpse into the future. Her and Peter's. And she wasn't about to let the likes of Eugene Thompson ruin that for her.
"I was thinking..." Peter said, snapping her out of her thoughts, and she was grateful for it.
"Always dangerous." Gwen said, with a grin, and Peter smiled at her, and again her heart did a flip in her chest.
"Very funny." He rolled his eyes, but the smile didn't leave his face. "I was going to go to the library after school. I wanted to get started on that paper for chemistry. Do you wanna come with?"
And just like that the butterflies were back and the blush was hot on her cheeks, no matter how hard Gwen tried to shove the feeling down. "Uh... um... Yeah. Sure." She sputtered out, her mouth going dry and her stomach flipping as her heart did another backflip.
Seemingly both unaffected and unnoticing of her reaction, Peter just grinned at her, and she felt herself smile. "Cool. You think your dad will be cool with it?" Peter asked, no doubt noticing that, as per usual, Gwen felt zero need to text her dad.
Gwen couldn't suppress the snort that escaped her at his words. The better question would be if her dad would even be home to notice she wasn't there. Ever since Gwen had become even moderately self-reliant at the beginning of middle school, her dad had been spending less and less time at home, instead spending his nights and weekends working overtime at the police station, putting in double and triple shifts, and dropping anything and everything he was doing if he got a call, no matter what.
"I'm pretty sure my dad would be fine if I never came home." Gwen said with a roll of her eyes, unable to stop the snide comment. "He could finally live his dream of moving into the station full time." Gwen sighed and tried to push the thoughts of her father out of her mind. "You know that paper's not due for another three weeks, right?"
Peter frowned for a second, ever the worrier, but thankfully he took her pointed change in subject in stride, and shrugged. "It's never too early to start."
Gwen couldn't help but snicker, "So says the guy who put off every English assignment he's ever had until the night before it was due."
Peter groaned, leaning back in his seat, and looking at the ceiling. "That's ‘cause it's always so boringgg... It's all just like 'what does the curtains being red represent symbolically?' Like whooo cares?" He sighed, shaking his head, and Gwen couldn't help but laugh at his dramatic display. "It's dumb."
Gwen chuckled, shaking her head at her friend's antics. "But sure, might as well start the chem paper now." She snorted. "Still, pretty sad we don't have anything better to do on a Friday night."
Peter shrugged and looked out the window. "I dunno." He said, looking out over the cityscape. "I don't think there's a whole lot I'd rather do." He hesitated for a moment, as if deciding something, before turning back to look at her and adding, "There's something I've been wanting to tell you about. Something important."
Gwen swallowed thickly, trying not to let herself hope. She failed. "Really? What's up?" She asked, her heart beating faster as her mind raced.
"I've got something I've been-" He began, only to be cut off by the bus driver swerving suddenly, and then hitting the brakes, throwing them into the side of the bus before sending them face-first into the seat in front of them.
"Hey, what gives!" Gwen heard Flash shout from behind her, but Gwen was too busy being thrown around to care, a sharp burst of pain shooting through her head as her forehead smacked against the metal frame of the bus seat in front of her.
Peter had only barely managed to avoid the same fate, managing to hit his shoulder against the seat in front of them instead, his glasses nearly falling off his face in the process, and Gwen felt his free hand grab her shoulder tightly, steadying her.
"Hey! Watch it old-timer!" Flash shouted up at the driver, and for the first and hopefully only time Gwen found herself agreeing with Flash as she rubbed the throbbing bruise forming on the left side of her forehead, between her temple and her hairline.
The bus driver, an old man who Gwen had been sure would keel over and die behind the wheel at least twice before, glared back at them. "Sorry, kids." He snapped, sounding about as sorry as he was young, and not even bothering to slow down. "Traffic."
"Everyone alright back there?" The teacher called, and the two of them, and everyone else, answered with varying degrees of discombobulated affirmation.
"You okay?" Peter asked, his voice heavy with worry.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." Gwen said, shaking her head and pushing herself up and back into her seat, and Peter nodded. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Peter said, rubbing his shoulder absently, but smiling reassuringly, "You sure you're okay, though?"
Gwen waved him off, trying to ignore the pain in her forehead that was receding quickly, but still did hurt. "Yeah. I'm fine."
And before Gwen could even begin to ask what he'd wanted to tell her, the bus lurched to a halt, and the teacher, who looked a bit green around the gills, stood up and addressed the class.
"Alright, listen up." He said, his voice thick and nasally, "We're here. Everybody off. Remember, stick together, no touching anything without the guide's permission, no talking to anyone without the guide's permission. Try and wander off, I will know. If you need the bathroom, let me know first. Oscorp has been giving Midtown tours for a while now, and admin thinks it's absolutely essential that we not give them a reason to revoke our privilege. Anyone who makes trouble is going to have a lot of fun explaining why to Mr. Davis, who I know will have no qualms about doling out severe consequences, no matter any... athletic affiliations." The teacher was openly and pointedly glaring at Flash and his crew. "Understand?"
They all muttered a response, but apparently the teacher was satisfied with their apathetic answer, and so the class filed out of the bus and into the bright light of the pale early autumn sun, the wind and fresh air a relief after the stifling heat of the bus. It was a touch chilly, but not more than could be expected from mid-September in New York.
The tower itself was the tallest in the area, and one of the tallest in the city, standing at ninety-five stories. The dark green-tinted glass glimmered in the sunlight, reflecting the surrounding shorter skyscrapers, a dark steel honeycomb pattern of hexagons covering its surface.
Gwen had seen the building hundreds, if not thousands, of times before, but as they approached the entrance, and the glass doors slid open, revealing the fancy interior, the large, circular receptionist desk in the center of the lobby was flanked by a small waiting area, with several couches, coffee tables, and chairs, and two matching security checkpoints that separated the waiting area from the elevators beyond, Gwen couldn't help but feel like she was really, truly, entering a new world.
"Wow." Gwen couldn't help but mutter, and she didn't have to look to know that Peter was feeling the same awe and amazement.
"Woah." Peter echoed, his voice soft, and as they approached the receptionist's desk, their class crowding into the small waiting area.
"Welcome to Oscorp." The receptionist, a young woman with brunette hair and a polite smile, said. "You must be the group from Midtown."
"Yes ma'am." The teacher, whose name Gwen still could not be bothered to learn, answered, and the woman smiled.
"If you’ll wait here for a moment, we'll get you on your tour very soon."
Gwen could almost feel Peter vibrating with excitement beside her, and she had to admit, she felt much the same. This was a dream come true.
This was the first day of the rest of her life.