Author's Note: I've decided to start writing fanfics again (YAS!), so this is an updated version of a story I started a while ago. Also, in addition to posting on FFN, I'll be updating this story on Wattpad. Just search for "Spider-Man: Hidden", and you'll find me. Updates will probably be posted there before anywhere else. So, without further ado, sit back and enjoy. :D

A bright flash of pounding light filled a terrified Peter Parker's eyes. Thick torrents of blood poured from a dark, cold body as the sounds of sirens and a rhythmic heartbeat belittled the powerful noises of the city. He could feel the rough concrete clawing and scratching at his bare hands. His vision started to become hazy with tears, but with each teardrop the motionless body started to become clearer. Peter could start to make out a face, a familiar face, but suddenly, piece by piece, everything began to fall apart.

A shocked Peter Parker slowly opened his eyes. The terror was all a dream, a nightmare. He pushed aside the messy pile of sheets and blankets that accumulated during his sleep-induced panic attack and stood up to stretch. His eyes gazed over to his alarm clock; it was six thirteen. He swung around.

"Gw -" Peter stopped. He was all alone.

Wondering as to where his wife went off to, Peter walked sleepily down the hall, and peeked his head around the corner into the family room. Gwen was dead asleep on the sofa. Her long, golden locks were strewn all around the cushions, her plush, pink lips were slightly parted, and her soft, pale arms gently cradled a throw pillow. Peter smiled; he always thought she looked so beautiful while she slept. In fact, he always thought she was beautiful. No matter what. Peter quietly walked over to the recliner and grabbed a blanket that was draped over the headrest. He carefully swaddled Gwen in the quilt, trying extremely hard not to wake her. Peter lightly stroked her hair. Memories blasted through his mind. He never knew he would end up this lucky, and to think he almost lost her on that fateful night four years ago. After a couple seconds, Gwen's eyes slowly started to open.

"Morning," Peter said softly before kissing her on the forehead, "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

The

"No, no. It's fine," Gwen said with a smile.

"You sure?" Peter laid himself down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her snugly against his body.

"Yeah," She said as she rested her head on Peter's chest with a sigh of relief. She looked up at the clock. "Surprised you're up this early."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, um... It was a slow night, I guess."

"Really?" Gwen said sarcastically looking back at Peter. "You didn't even realize I fell asleep in here, not in our bedroom."

"Yeah," he paused. "I guess just sitting around all night wore me down. All I really had to do was stop a couple thugs from stealing a twelve-pack from a bodega on 8th and 22nd. Y'know, now that I think about it, I should have come home a lot earlier than I did."

Of course, "a slow night" wasn't the actual reason Peter was up so early. The real reason was that god-awful dream that he had just experienced, but he saw it as too petty of an excuse to use.

"I hope you consider that a good thing," she joked.

"Yeah. Course, I do." He paused to bring her in closer.

The two sat quietly for a while, both embracing each other's warm and inviting company.

"I really wish you would've, though." Gwen said, breaking the silence.

"Huh?"

"I really wish you would have come home earlier last night, that's all." she said as she squirmed closer against him.

Immediately, a look of guilt shot across Peter's face. He placed his hands on both sides of Gwen's head, and raised it toward his own so he could look into her eyes. How could he have been ignoring his loving, selfless wife for so long? He felt so dumb.

"Gwen," he began, the lump in his throat already forming, "I promise. I will be with you all night tonight. Just us. No criminals, no thugs, just us. What can one night hurt, right?"

Gwen started to laugh. She pulled Peter's hands off her face.

"What?" Peter asked, "Wait, what did I say?"

"It's really funny you'd say that," she started excitedly, almost ignoring Peter's previous question.

Peter raised his eyebrow a bit, wondering what she was up to.

"I was thinking we could go out tonight," she continued. "Maybe we could stop by a small restaurant, then go ice skating or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds great. I mean, I'm up to it, I guess," he paused for a split second. Gwen peered into his eyes, amazed with the same goofy awkwardness she fell in love with in high school. "If you're up to it, that is. I mean, of course, you're up to it. You were the one who asked me to –"

"You don't have a clue what this is about, do you?" Gwen interrupted.

"Nope," Peter replied immediately.

"It's your birthday, remember?"

"Oh, yeah! It is, isn't it? How the hell could I forget my own birthday?" Peter shoved his face into one of the pillows.

Gwen laughed a bit. "Maybe it was those bodega thugs," mocking Peter.

Peter lifted his face from the pillow smiled sheepishly.

"Maybe," he answered with a laugh-like tone just before he dove in for a kiss.

When their lips finally separated, Gwen stood up and picked up a hairpin off of the coffee table.

"I'm going to cook you breakfast, that okay?" she said while she pulled her hair up into a messy bun.

"Yeah, but you know you really don't have to."

"No, my treat." She walked out into the kitchen, and Peter soon followed.

"At least, let me help."

"No. Today's your day, and I'm not going to let you ruin it." she said as she reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the jug of orange juice.

Peter grabbed her by the waist and spun her around. She squealed in surprise.

"You're too good to me." he gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I really don't know what I'd do without you."

Peter smiled and gave her another kiss. He turned around, grabbed the remote, and powered on the kitchen TV.

– As you can see, it's a little frosty out there this morning. Nineteen is the low for today, while thirty-one is expected at the high, and it doesn't look like it's going to get any warmer this weekend. We're expecting temperatures to reach the single digits by the end of next week, so be prepared and stay warm. Back over to you, Pat. –

– Thanks, John. Spider-Man was spotted last night at a series of arson fires occurring at apartment buildings scattered throughout the city. For Daily Bugle News, here's Kelly Branson. –

Gwen looked up from the eggs she was preparing.

– That's right, Pat. There were three suspected arson fires last night. The first of which broke out here on 5th Avenue. Spider-Man was quick to help, and maintained to help evacuate twenty-five people here alone. Twenty minutes after the FDNY subdued the blaze, two more fires broke out within five minutes of each other. One on West 34th Street and the other on East 88th. Luckily, no one was killed, and only four were injured. The suspects, a group known as the Maggia, are still at large. If you have any information about this crime or witness any other suspicious activity, please contact the NYPD. –

Peter turned off the TV.

"Slow night, huh?" Gwen sarcastically asked.

"As usual." Peter said with a joking smile.

After eating, the two went through their daily morning routines. They both showered, brushed their teeth, got dressed, and, as usual, Peter walked Gwen to her subway station and kissed her goodbye before she left for work.

Once Peter made sure she was safely on the train, he walked back up the stairway and ran into a nearby alleyway. Past the dumpsters and over a couple of fences, Peter shoved his clothes into his old army-style backpack and put on his mask, boots, and gloves. He threw on his pack and shot up a cold brick wall.

Peter plopped down on a ledge, pulled out his modified police scanner, tuned through the channels, and listened attentively. It always brought back a small bit of nostalgia; so many memories.

– Calling all officers, repeat calling all officers. We have a robbery in progress at the Metropolitan Commercial Bank on Park. I repeat all officers, we have a –

Peter jumped up and stuffed his scanner into his bag. He threw it against a nearby wall, and shot it with a blast of webbing to secure it there. He pounced off the building, and anchored a thin line of webbing onto the glass of a nearby edifice, and swung toward Park Avenue. Peter had no idea about the amount of trouble he was about to get himself into.