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Gwen Stacy is mad at her boyfriend. Correction— she is pissed at her boyfriend. Stupid Peter Parker and his stupid pretty face, he's always shown up to their dates at least a little late, but this is the first time in a while that he's fully missed one. And on their anniversary no less! Granted, it's only been their first year together, but in college? Where people shot between partners like they were trying on clothes? Staying together that long meant something.
...Or so she had thought. As she paced around the room, chewing on her knuckle like she usually did when she was nervous, she checked the alarm clock on her bedside table in her dorm. 10:47. Nearly 5 hours since they were supposed to meet up at Luigi's for pizza, and then go on a 'Night straight out of your wildest dreams', as Peter had put it.
She spent the whole afternoon texting him, asking where he was, how late he was going to be, or if he'd even show up at all. She didn't bother pulling that stunt that women on TV did where they'd 'test' their boyfriend by not bringing up the anniversary at all, instead just springing it on them at random the day of. She knew better, and she knew that Peter had a terrible memory, always wrapped up in that head of his. That stupid, cute head where all his dumb genius thoughts were…
No. She was being angry right now, she can't get caught up thinking about the things she likes about him. Instead, she opts to think about the things she hates. She hates that he always shows up late, apologizes, and then just does it again some other day. Apologies from Peter were about as empty as they were frequent. She hates how he always looks genuinely remorseful with every apology, too, her secretly wishing that there’d be some hint that he didn't actually care.
But he did, which only made it hurt more. What could possibly be so important? She knew he had the Bugle, and his aunt's declining health, and would even occasionally volunteer at F.E.A.S.T., but those excuses fell through when she did even the slightest amount of digging. Gwen would ask Peter's aunt May if he'd visited, or check the Bugle byline the next day, or the volunteer lists at the shelter. She hated going behind his back to find out what he was doing, but she needed to know what he was actually up to.
And then a particularly nasty thought reared its head once again, loud enough for her teeth to scrape a bit of skin off her knuckle, though she didn't care.
He could be cheating on her.
There's no way he was cheating, right? The thought had crossed her mind many times before, like it would for most girls when a boyfriend was being sneaky for an extended period of time. But... Peter Parker, Midtown High's biggest loser and ESU's top student? Peter Parker, the nicest guy she knew, who would always dote on her, kiss her gently, going as slowly as she needed, never pushing her past her comfort zone, and always trying to take up as little space as possible? That Peter Parker? There's no way. There was no way. There is no way.
...Right?
She checks the clock again. 10:50.
Gwen silently decides that she's going to give Peter another 10 minutes before she goes to bed with a break-up text. It hurt, and she knew it'd hurt Peter, too, but she couldn't take it anymore. The lies, the going behind her back, the feeling that there was something her boyfriend wasn't telling her. After her father's death, Peter was the person she felt closest to. Sure, there was their small circle of friends, but none of them had the bond that her and Peter did. They both knew what it was like to lose a father... a mother.
Gwen idly wipes at the tears trickling down her face. She checks the clock again. 10:59. One more minute for Peter to do something, anything, that could possibly help save their relationship.
She waits. 60 seconds of silence, the only background noise being the small rotary fan she'd set up in the corner, spinning away at its job. 30 seconds left.
...20 seconds.
.....10 seconds.
'Peter, please, do something...'
11 o' clock.
She sighs, a hoarse, pained thing that broke into a pitiable laugh, as she stands up to go use the bathroom. She leaves her dorm to walk down the hallway, making her way to the stalls. A few minutes later, she comes back to her dorm, ready to finally lie down and text Peter her true thoughts.
...Or, she would've liked to, had it not been for the red and blue clad vigilante laying on the ground, half-dead, in her bedroom. She bit back a scream, not wanting anybody to come rushing in fear that they'd see him and turn him into the authorities. He's saved her life far too many times for her to do that to him.
Not to mention, he'd saved her father's life many times as well. Not the one time it counted, of course, but he'd still tried. She's seen the news, and she's seen how hard he's fought to make sure nobody gets hurt in his battles against these people that want him dead. Now, here he was, slick with blood, covered in massive gashes that went across his whole torso, a dagger-like blade jammed into his right shoulder.
It's hard to tell with the mask, but she thinks to herself that he must've noticed her. Her thoughts were confirmed as he weakly extends his hand out to her, calling out, "...Gwen..."
Instantly, fear shoots through her. She knows how strong he is, how fast he is. And even if she's never seen him hurt a civilian, why would he suddenly be in her room, and why did he know her name?
That thought cuts itself short as more words crumble out of his mouth, "...Mask... Help me take... this mask off..." She's confused, but cautiously makes her way over to him and knelt down, before freezing in place, staring into the glass eyes on his mask.
Did Spider-Man just make a Star Wars reference? In her bedroom? While he was dying? She looks at him with a puzzled expression, and whispers, shocked, "Peter?"
He coughs, and it sounds like there’s blood in his mouth, "No, Gwen... your line is 'But you'll die'," he says, and she can almost see the stupid grin on his face under the mask. She reached her hands up to where she thought the bottom of the mask was, pinching the fabric in her fingers and pulling it up, and revealed the face of her gorgeous boyfriend, battered like she'd never seen before. A particularly nasty cut was going up the right side of his face, with a purpled bruise sealing his left eye closed.
"Tell your sister... you were right about me..." he says, coughing up a bit of blood onto himself. Only Peter Parker would try and crack a joke while he was bleeding out in front of her.
Gwen Stacy, while slightly charmed, is sobbing, ignoring his stupid reference in favor of trying to pick him up to move him onto the bed as best she can with all the proportional strength of a STEM major. Laying him down with a grunt, she rushes over to the emergency first-aid kit that each dorm had, cracking it open for the first time since she'd moved in. Rushing back to him, she starts to pull off his outfit, blood sticking it to him like paste. Peter grimaces as she pulls his suit off, revealing his damaged body. She knew he didn't really like how he looked (which was insane to her, he was carved like a model), but this was life or death, damn it! Starting to fill up cotton balls with rubbing alcohol, she says, "This is going to sting," dabbing at his larger cuts and gashes before covering them with gauze pads and wrapping him in so much wound tape that he starts to look like he's cosplaying some obscure anime character.
Then she moved to the giant dagger in his shoulder. Pulling it out, she dealt with the wound for a couple minutes, the two of them in silence. Holding the blade in her hand, she wondered what it even was? It was clearly made for stabbing, but there was no handle, and the patterns on it made it look almost like… a feather?
Pete apparently saw the confusion on her face, clarifying with, "Vulture... kidnapped his granddaughter... got her back, but... almost killed me..."
Gwen was in so much shock from what was going on that it almost didn't register that her boyfriend almost died trying to save a kidnapped girl. She was so desperately trying to keep him alive, that she'd forgotten to be mad at him. And now that she knew where he was, she didn't know if she could ever be mad at him again. She sobs, her breath hitching, and flings herself onto Peter, holding on like he was going to disappear, trying not to hurt his probably already broken bones.
"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, Peter..." She looks up at him, teary-eyed and desperate, "Can you forgive me?"
He looks at her, perplexed, "Um... I think I—" another cough, more blood, "urgh... I think I should be the one... apologizing to you, Gwen..."
Oh. Right, he hadn't been there for her entire breakdown where she was planning to break up with him. She figures they should have a talk about that, but right now, Peter just almost died, and she wants to hold him.
Peter shifts so that he's on his side, facing away from her, which Gwen took as an opportunity to wrap her arms around him, pulling him into her. He flinches at the touch, but settles in, continuing his thought process, "I've been... lying to you for... basically the entire time you've known me..."
Gwen nods against his shoulder, and says, "It's okay, Pete. I mean, I would've preferred to know, but... well, we can talk about it in the morning," she nuzzles her face into his shoulder a bit more, "And... I'm glad there are no more secrets between us."
"Yeah..." Peter says solemnly, "No more secrets..."
Get up…
Get up.
Get up!
“GET UP, SPIDER-MAN,” the scream pierced Peter’s ears as he lay crushed underneath the scrapheap that used to be a truck. Spider-Man could barely make out what was in front of his eyes, only shapes. Black, shiny, ground with white lines, tall gray lines with yellow flares on top, green triangles on one of the gray lines, and a few colorful blobs dotted here and there on the ground. As he stood up, lifting the scrap off his shoulders and rubbing his forehead through the hole in his mask, his vision cleared.
Parking lot, lampposts, cars, and Vulture.
… Vulture.
The old man yelling at him from across the abandoned parking lot had perched himself atop a lamppost, glaring down at his enemy. The right wing of his suit that acted as a stabilizer was unable to let him properly fly for more than a few minutes after Spider-Man had shredded it. A young girl squirms in his left arm, she couldn’t have been older than 14. Tears streak down her face, as small hands desperately claw at the arm her grandfather was restraining her with.
“What’s wrong, Spider-Man? Giving up already?” Toomes taunted him from his perch, surely grinning underneath his beak-shape mouthpiece. He continued, “Unfortunately for you, my getaway ride has been destroyed,” he flexed the wrecked wing to show off the damages, as if Peter had already forgotten, “So I expect some recompense. While I know I have nothing to gain monetarily from you, I’ll surely make up for it in… satisfaction.”
Parker could sense the evil grin from his first enemy. As Peter struggled to his feet, he quickly checked his webshooters to see how much fluid he had left. One full cartridge in the left, half a cartridge in the right. He can make this work.
“Well, Spider-Man? What do you think?”
Oh, he was still talking. Now was as good a time as any to get in a quick retort, “I think…” he coughs up a bit of blood into his mask, “I think that you need to clamp your beak, ya geriatric buzzard.”
Adrian narrows his eyes in response. Good, that’s what he needs; frustration. Wasn’t the cleverest joke, could’ve used some more work, but he was unconscious less than two minutes ago, and clever isn’t what he needs right now. He needs Toomes off his game and annoyed, because annoyed means not thinking clearly.
“So, Toomesy,” Peter says, knowing he hates that nickname, “How’s about you let the girl go, and you walk away with most of your teeth?”
“Not a girl. Modern society has poisoned his thoughts, and his mother only encouraged them! I intend to raise him PROPERLY, hopefully better than I did so with his mother…” Oh, so that’s what this was about. Peter grits his teeth under his mask, blood pumping through his veins even faster now. He can’t let this girl get taken away by Vulture, he can’t let one girl go her whole life without becoming who she is.
Especially when Peter knew that this girl would get to live the life he would never be able to. He can’t let that fate be taken from her.
“And you never were the greatest at doling out threats, Spider-Man. Only two of us will leave this place alive, and you’re not going to be one of them.”
Vulture drops from his perch, letting the girl fall out of his arms as she collapses onto the ground, wrists and legs tied together. Peter Parker rolled his shoulders, and leapt at Toomes, ignoring the biting pain in his limbs as he went in for the first jab.
Gwen Stacy feels her boyfriend's breath hitch, then hears him stifle a sob. Was… was Peter really trying to make himself look strong, right now of all times? He was just bleeding out on her floor a few minutes ago, admitting what was surely his deepest secret to her, and he really felt the need to put on a faux machismo? She couldn't take that, and she wouldn't let him do it, either.
"Peter," he stiffened in her arms, "I heard that. You don't have to hide yourself from me anymore, okay? You can... you can cry," she says, half-questioning to herself if she's ever seen Peter cry. He sniffles in her arms, and a sob explodes out of him, shaking like it’s the first time he's cried in years. And as far as she knew, it might be. She ran her fingers through his curly brown hair, whispering small praises to him, telling him he did a good job, that there was nothing to worry about, and that she would protect him.
It felt silly, telling Spider-Man of all people that she could protect him, but she meant it. She would do anything to protect her Peter, and she won’t let anything come between th-
“Gwen… Can I tell you something else?”
Her body tensed, terrified that Peter was about to admit that he's been cheating on her on top of being Spider-Man. She dispels the thought, logicing it away with the fact that he probably wouldn’t be able to keep up two jobs, college, superheroing, and two girlfriends at the same time. So, she nods her head into his neck, letting him know that it was okay to continue.
“I don’t think I like being Peter.”
Spider-Man's fist slams into Toomes’ gut first, gripping his right shoulder to hang on while they fly through the air. Then he reaches for his helmet, trying to pull it off to get a proper shot at his head.
“GAH! Get off of me, Spider-Man!” Vulture claws at Peter’s hand, trying to leave deep enough marks that he’d wince and let go.
“Just trying to get a look at your cute little nose, Vulchy,” Spider-Man says, as he grabs the beak-shaped mask with one hand, ripping it off with what strength he has left. He can feel his energy pouring out of his side in bursts of crimson.The moment the beak comes off in his hand, Vulture spins midair, trying desperately to shake the spider off. Peter keeps his grip on the old man steady as they twirl just a few feet above the pavement. This is my chance, Spider-Man thinks, his hand shooting out for the Vulture’s neck, but his claws dug into the spider’s wrist just as he almost got him. It’s fine, Peter thinks, I broke one wing, he can’t make it too far away, I just need one good hit.
One good hit, and the two of them are careening into the concrete below.
One good hit, and he can go home.
Spider-Man rips his hand out of the Vulture’s grip, talons scraping gashes into his hand as he kicks off his chest, launching himself backwards into the air. In the same motion, his left shooter fires a string of web at Toomes’ chest, yanking him in to reintroduce fist to face. But moments before he can make one good hit, a feather-blade launches out of the Vulture’s still-functioning wing, piercing into his shoulder, splitting clean through his left clavicle with a SNAP! Peter’s fist pounds into the old man’s head as they scream in unison, crashing into the ground of the parking lot together. Just before they hit the ground, his right hand instinctively wraps around the back of Adrian’s head so his neck doesn’t break on impact. He’s a monster, but even he doesn’t deserve his skull to split open in front of a supermarket.
Peter huffs and puffs, rising to one knee and staring down at the unconscious old man in front of him. Tearing the wings off his suit, and webbing his first enemy to the wall of the store, Peter can’t help but feel… disappointed in him. Disappointed, but not shocked. Of course, Adrian is old, stuck in his ways, and honestly it probably should’ve already said a lot about his character in the first place, considering his willingness to dress up in a stupid outfit and fly around the city robbing and assaulting people. But, Peter can’t help but to see the best in everybody regardless, and really didn’t think his old foe would stoop this low.
Right, his granddaughter. Spider-Man dashes over to where Vulture left her, underneath the light pole, tied so she can’t escape. Untying her wrists, he speaks softly, “You doin’ alright, kid?” He waits for a response as he moves to her legs, “Nothing? That’s fair, you’ve been through a lot. You uh, got a place to go back to?” he asks, hoping she says yes. It’s not that F.E.A.S.T. is bad, it’s just that it hurts every time he has to bring someone back there, knowing they’ve got nowhere else to go. Thankfully she nods her head, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
“Alright, that’s good. Mind telling me where it is?” he asks, to more silence as she pulls her knees up to her chest. He sits down next to her, about a foot away in case she needs the space. They stay like that for a moment, before Spider-Man pipes up again, as he so has a habit to do.
“He didn’t, um, do anything else to you, did he?” Spider-Man looks at her with concern as he asks it, but she shakes her head no, curls bouncing on her face. He breathes a sigh he didn’t know he’d been holding, and immediately winces through his broken ribs. She looks at him with her own concern, but he assures her, “This is nothing, you should see the other guy.”
That got a small chuckle out of her. That’s good, keep them laughing, keep their mind off things. After another few seconds of silence, she clears her throat to say, “So how are you not, like, dead?” and points to the huge piece of metal sticking out of him. He looks at it like it’s the first time he’s noticed it.
“Huh. Must be adrenaline,” he says.
“That can’t be good for you,” she responds.
“Probably not, but what can ya do?”
“...Go to the hospital?”
“On a salary like mine? You’ve gotta be kidding, kid.”
She chuckles again, “You get paid to do this? I mean, I guess that makes sense, I just always kind of thought it was a volunteer thing.”
“Oh it is, I just have another job. Well, two other jobs. And college.”
“You’re in college???”
Whoops. He probably shouldn’t have let that slip, but whatever, there are a lot of people in college in New York who could have two jobs and also be Spider-Man. The amount of people who could do that and still function is a lot lower, but there was no way this teenager could, or even would, narrow that down! Probably.
“Um. Yeah, I am. And honestly? Probably not gonna be worth it in the long run,” he says, staring up at the stars.
“Jeez, I can’t imagine doing everything you do and still having time for a normal life. I mean, how would you even do anything for yourself, or spend time with anybody?” she said, and just like that Peter remembered what day it was.
“Damn it.”
“What?”
“It’s my anniversary. I’m so dead.”
“Oh jeez, I hope I’m not holding you up!”
“Nah, don’t worry kid, I’m just waiting for the energy spike so I can swing you home. Unless you’d rather I call you a taxi?”
“With the condition you’re in I don’t think it’d be safe for either of us if you swung around with a second person.”
“That’s actually entirely fair. I’ll call you a cab then,” he said, pulling out his phone to order a good ol’ fashioned reliable NYC taxi that will surely be there on time. Also probably the cops to pick up the kidnapper. Finishing up the order, he looks back over at the girl to see her still shaking. Quick, Parker! Think of something relatable to the youth to lift her spirits!
“How about them sports,” great job Parker.
“What?”
“Never mind. You got a name, kid?”
“Oh, it’s, uh, Daisy,” she says, standing up to lean against the light post and nudging at rocks with her shoe, trying desperately to seem calm while sweating bullets.
“Cool, my name is Spider-Man,” Peter says from his sitting position, one hand over his snapped ribs.
“...I figured.”
Peter thinks for a minute on what to say, mulling over options in his head. Relating to interests wouldn’t help as he doesn’t know this girl at all, talking about the situation would probably make her feel worse, and it’s not like they have anything identity-wise in comm—
Oh.
“Hey kid, you wanna know a certified Spider-Man secret?” he begins, already starting to regret it.
“Um, sure?” she says, clearly a little hesitant.
“Alright, but you gotta promise to keep it a secret.”
“Okay, I, um, promise.”
“I’m serious! This is big. Not like, secret identity big, but it’s big! I don’t wanna see this floating around on the internet or something, and no sharing with friends either! This is a big one, alright kid?”
“Okay, okay, I get it! I solemnly swear I won’t tell anybody your ultra secret Spider-Man secret,” she says, giggling a little bit.
“Alright. Just so you know, I’ve never, uh, told anybody this thing before. So it’s a little odd trying to get it out but… uh…” he hesitates for a moment, before blurting it out immediately.
“I think I want to be a woman.”
The parking lot went quiet, seeming to halt even the wind with her words, as Spider-Man spoke to an audience of one.
“...Really?” Daisy finally spoke.
“...Yeah,” Peter responds.
Daisy looks at her with tears in her eyes, leaning down and pulling Peter into as soft a hug as she can so as to not disturb her broken bones. She speaks softly too, so that nobody else in the empty parking lot can hear her say,
“That’s beautiful, Spider-Woman.”
Gwen held her new girlfriend tightly in her arms, kissing the top of her head over and over. Peter ugly cried into her chest, her girlfriend stroking her short, choppy brown hair.
She loves her. She still loves her, even though she's a failure of a boyfriend and a superhero and Gwen told her to shut up while she was still talking, calling her an idiot if she really thinks that.
Gwen didn’t really understand entirely, but she still loved her. She’s met people like her before, and while this was probably going to take a while to get used to, she was willing to make the journey with Peter. Or, not Peter?
“Hey Pe— uh, babe?” Gwen Stacy hates pet names, but she can’t think of anything else to call her girlfriend right now that won’t be hurtful in some way.
“Yes, Gwenny-Gwen-Gwen?” Ms. Parker, on the other hand, loves pet names, especially stupid ones that get Ms. Stacy to groan.
“Ugh, I just wanted to know if you had a name in mind, you dork.”
She thinks for a little bit, wiping the sniffles from her nose and sobs from her eyes. She doesn’t have a name picked out.
“I guess I haven’t…” she says, almost embarrassed.
“Wow, Ms. Parker, procrastinating yet again? Tsk tsk tsk…”
She chuckled, curling back into Gwen and thinking of her future if she kept up with this. How would she get HRT? How would she come out to May, and Jonah, and her friends? How is she gonna pick out a new name for herself? Peter started to stress a bit over the potential difficulties she’d face, but then she looked up at her girlfriend, blonde hair perfectly framing her bright blue eyes and gap-toothed smile, and she realized she didn't need to worry. Not right now, at least. She had Gwen to support her.
How could she forget? Spider-Man and Gwen Stacy have all the time in the world.
They’ll just have to cross those bridges when they get there…