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Gwen loves her city, but sometimes her city doesn’t love her.
Honestly, she’s not surprised. She blames herself enough for Peter’s death - is it any wonder that the city blames her too? If she had told him, if she’d been there for him, if she hadn’t fought him so hard… If she had done anything different, would he still be alive?
Miles wonders why she doesn’t invite any of them to her dimension. He’s too polite to ask, but she knows it crosses his mind every time the subject comes up of whose dimension will be the host to the next Spider meetup. And she’d love to show them her dimension, show them the parts of her New York that mean the most to her. The park where she would sit with Peter and Em Jay as they laughed about homework. The venue where the Mary Janes played their first concert. All these parts of her life that changed her forever.
But she doesn’t even dare consider it, not when the tv screens and the billboards read ‘Spider-Woman: Vigilante; Criminal; Murderer.’ Sure, the others know that it’s her fault her Peter Parker is dead, but they don’t know what really happened. They don’t know how she drifted away from him before he died, how she prioritized being Spider-Woman over her best friend who needed her. They don’t know that it could have been different, if only she had tried harder, trusted her friend more. So she sits on top of the tallest building in New York, her legs dangling over the edge and her heel tapping a nervous beat against the wall, reading the signs that call for things to change.
Stop the Spider-Woman...
Call 1-555-FOR-PETER if you have information…
And then there’s the board that just shows Peter’s face. His glasses that she never saw him without, his smile - not the smile that he saved for her and Em Jay, but a smile that tugs at her heart nonetheless.
No. If she shows them her city, then they’ll know the truth. They’ll know it’s really her fault . And as much as Gwen values honesty, truth, trust - she can’t bear the thought of losing the only other family that’s ever really understood her. Prompted by that thought, she gently touches the watch around her wrist. Miles’ face pops up; then Peni’s, then Peter B’s. And that’s when she swipes the screen away, climbs to her feet and leaps off the building.
When she gets home, somewhere past 10pm, the billboards and the neon signs the only thing lighting her path, she finds her dad waiting in the lounge, the television on some news channel that, for once, isn’t calling for the downfall of Spider-Woman.
Knowing that he’s been waiting up for her, Gwen places her backpack on the floor and takes a deep breath. She’s trying to build up the courage to approach him, but before she can do anything George Stacy says, “Where have you been?”
She blinks. Usually she’s always got an excuse: “oh I was with Em Jay, we were rehearsing for next week’s concert, I was at the library…” Before Peter died, she used to say she was with him. Maybe that’s why her dad is so desperate to catch Peter’s murderer. Because he knew how much Gwen loved him.
“I wasn’t really anywhere,” she says. She doesn’t have the heart to lie completely to her father tonight. “I was just walking around the city. The lights are so pretty in the dark.”
“Gwen.” Her father’s voice carries the same tiredness that it always does, the tiredness that she causes. “It’s dangerous to be out this late at night. You know what could happen.”
Gwen squeezes her left arm self-consciously. “I know, dad. I’m sorry.”
Her dad pats the couch, a silent invitation for her to come sit beside him. She does. “You know I love you,” he says, turning to face her. The light of the television highlights his features in blue, then red. “The city is so dangerous these days. After what happened with Peter… well, you know how bad it is.”
Her nails dig into her palm. “I know, dad.”
“Are you alright?” he says, his voice soft and gentle, like he would be a trustworthy confidante. Like if Gwen told him her secret, told him the truth , he wouldn’t hate her. “Your mother was always… She would have known what to say. But I’m trying, Gwen. I can’t help you unless you let me.”
Gwen nods. Her palm is stinging. “I know, dad.”
He surveys her with a sad look. She knows he wants more from her, more than her cold dismissal and rejection, but she’s done enough thinking for tonight. She’s not going to reveal her deepest secrets while her heart feels on the verge of breaking.
Her dad leans away back against the couch. And the moment, or what existed of it, is broken. “Has Miss Watson organised any more concerts?” he asks, the familiar tilt to his voice that says he disapproves of Em Jay’s influence on Gwen, but he won’t say anything because he wants Gwen to have something that makes her happy.
She smiles, but her heart isn’t in it. “She’s negotiating for a show at the Stadium.”
“Send her my well-wishes,” he responds. He turns back to the television, and the conversation’s finished.
Gwen considers leaving him be and heading back to her room, but there’s a part of her that craves the warm safety of her father. Even if she can’t tell him the truth, can never tell him the truth, right now he loves her and he would do anything to protect her if she asked. But her demons are ones she has to fight on her own. She turns to the TV.
The commercial break is just finishing, and then the familiar face of Jameson appears on the screen. Gwen almost walks away then and there, but her dad says, “Ugh, this guy. I admire his propensity for truth, but he could do with a little less ranting.”
It’s clearly said in an effort to get a response from Gwen, but the words only feel like a punch to the throat. A reminder that, yet again, the people she loves would hate her if they knew the truth.
With a sick feeling in her chest, she doesn’t respond and focuses on the screen. The only thing that could make her feel worse is if Jameson was running another Spider-Woman persecution night.
Well. Don’t tempt fate and all.
“We have to get her off the streets,” Jameson declares, his hungry gaze locked on the camera. “She’s a danger to the public. We can’t let Peter Parker’s death be in vain!”
And for a moment Gwen thinks that this is fine, she can handle this if only not to leave her dad hanging, and then Jameson speaks again.
“Midtown High has generously sent us this video of Peter, in which he gives a presentation on the ideals of freedom and truth in the world.” The screen switches, and there’s Peter, standing uncomfortably in front of the class.
Gwen remembers that day. Their teacher insisted on filming each presentation so that the students could “look back on it later in life”. She’d thought it was stupid; why would she care about one school project when she was older that she hadn’t even particularly liked? But right now, she’s just grateful that there’s another piece of Peter Parker out there, another piece of proof that he was real and he had a life and he wasn’t just a nameless victim of her mistakes.
Her memories are interrupted by Peter’s voice. “My uncle Ben always used to say: ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’” He turns his head and the reflected light on his glasses fades away. Now she can see his eyes. “That’s the most important thing he ever taught me. It’s your job, your duty, to use the power you have for good.” It feels like he’s looking directly at her, like the person on the other side of the screen is real and alive . “You might not know your own power, but believe it. You might find a way to change the world.”
“Gwen?” She doesn’t realise until her father says her name that there are tears streaming down her face. Her breathing is coming in shaky gasps, her fingernails digging tightly into her palms.
“Gwen?” Her dad sounds worried now. There’s a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
And before she can even think about it she’s throwing herself into his open arms, burying her face in his chest like a little girl. “I’m sorry,” she sobs, clenching her fists into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“Gwen.” Her dad’s voice is soft, nurturing, but there’s an awkwardness to it that’s always there whenever a situation gets too emotional. “It wasn’t your fault.”
You don’t understand , she hisses inside her head. It was. “I miss him,” she says instead, her voice shaking through tears.
Her dad’s arms wrap around her, a comforting hand resting heavily on her back. “I know,” he says softly. “He was a good boy.”
He was more than that , Gwen thinks, brushing a frustrated hand over her eyes. He could have been so much. There was so much good he could’ve given to the world, and she took that away in one fell swoop. The Collider incident proved that; Peter Parker was a prodigy anywhere he was.
“I wish things were different,” she murmurs softly, and she means it. If she had never been bitten, if Peter had been bitten instead of her, then maybe he would still be alive. The idea of giving up Spider-Woman - the idea of losing the interdimensional family she’s found herself with - is a terrifying one, but right now she misses Peter so much that she wishes with all her heart that things had turned out differently. He deserves this, not her.
The watch on her wrist is cold against her skin.