I couldn't help it. I had to make an Amazing Spider-Man 2 oneshot. It wouldn't leave me alone, and I couldn't write anything else until this was down on paper... computer... okay, well, here it is.
The ancient cogs spun with ease, sliding in and out of the gears as simply as a child would fit the pieces of a puzzle together. That was usually how Peter Parker's mind worked. Though with much better speed, of course.
This time there were no cogs. No gears. It was a flash. A split second. That was all it took for Spider-Man to dive off of the edge and feel the rush of air plough into his face.
Because his girlfriend, Gwen Stacy, was falling and he didn't have time to fit the pieces together. All he had was a second.
The walls flew past him, a dark, smudgy blur. The various clock gears, screws and pipes were scattered around Gwen's small (and rapidly diminishing) body like a mechanical snow flake.
All he needed was an opening.
Spider-Man was the one who was falling, firing a transparent cable from his mechanised web shooters, watching (with relief) that it attached itself to her arm, wrapping around the forearm. But it was Peter Parker who was thinking without another thought, save one. Save Gwen.
He didn't think about the repercussions the sudden stop might have on her until he heard a sharp snap and thunk as the webbing straightened, taut with tension, followed immediately with nothing.
His feet hit the ground hard and he hopped once more, very lightly and approached her still form. Spider-Man was stalking towards her carefully. Peter Parker was almost shaking out of his tight spandex suit, chestnut brown eyes wide with horror and struck with mist.
He couldn't see those sparkling emerald eyes of hers, for they were closed lightly, her plump red lips slightly parted.
"Gwen?" His voice was taught with strain, repressed sobs hitching in his chest whilst his eyes remained fixated on her still form hanging precariously and just mere inches from the cold, solid ground. Just a second too late and she would have been dead. The thought made his stomach churn with sickness.
And yet she wasn't moving.
Her name fell from his lips again as he unlatched her from the web and cradled her like a china doll in his strong arms, and this time he was unable to suppress the wrecking sob from within. "No, please!"
She was supposed to stay by his side for all time. They were supposed to leave this entire mess behind; go to England, where she would study at Oxford and he would find another job in photography. They were supposed to (dare he become cheesy, but what the hell) get married and start their own family. And now that potential future was gone. Gone.
His soul was crushed. His heart was bleeding. Gwen was gone.
It was that single feminine groan that had him raising his head so fast that he potentially could have given himself whiplash, his glassy eyes now staring at her as wide saucers whilst her chest rose and fell slowly.
Her pale white eyelids flickered and a small frown creased her smooth forehead. "You're giving me a headache, Bug Boy."
If Peter could describe his joy in that single, breath taking moment it would be that he felt as though someone had stuck a tube down his throat and was promptly filling him with helium up until the point that he'd burst. He ran a red and silver web-patterned glove through her sun gold tresses, pushing strands from her eyes and smoothing it back and pressing his own lips firmly against her temple, closing his eyes and letting the salty tears fall.
She was alive. Gwen was alive!
His world was not falling apart around him.
Something cold began to creep through his hands and up his arms. The weight he held suddenly grew much lighter in his hands, and he could no longer feel the warm and supple flesh of Gwen's skin beneath his lips. Peter's joy soon spiralled cataclysmically into fear. "Gwen? GWEN!"
He tipped his head back and saw Gwen lying in his arms, but lifeless, her hair slowly dying, broken, grey and falling one by one from her head. Her creamy white skin was stretched and grey, her once supple red lips now blue. She was growing lighter and lighter by the second as Peter watched the skin of Gwen's face flake up and peel away from her, beginning to reveal the skeletal structure beneath.
Peter's hands worked frantically on her face, trying to keep her together, yet the more he tried the more rapidly she seemed to fall to pieces in front of him. Just like his life was at the minute.
"No, please!" he sobbed, fat salty tears spilling from his eyes and racing down his dirt coloured cheeks. "Please!"
He tried so hard, but she fell to pieces before him.
Now the only thing that Peter held was the skeleton of Gwen Stacy who was lying six feet beneath the cold, hard ground.
Peter would often relive that dreadful memory of his beloved falling; remember the sickening crack of her head smacking off the ground. He would sometimes believe it was that which had killed her, but he knows otherwise.
He killed her. He didn't think rationally enough. He didn't listen to Captain Stacy. He should have let her go.
Peter Parker killed Gwen Stacy.
He thinks of that every day, even though, many years later, he has locked that into the furthest and darkest corners of his mind. He's not a hero if he can't protect the people. He's not a hero if he can't protect the ones he loves.
Peter Parker, now Spider-Man, always thinks of the repercussions now, his mind working to that of a clock rather than a computer - especially now that he is facing the same situation again, the air ploughing into his face and shooting coolly past him again as he works frantically to save Aunt May from the same fate as his Gwen suffered all those years ago.
The cog neatly falls into place this time, and he thrusts both of his arms out and fires two cables this time. Each one connects assuredly to May's stomach. He smiles beneath his mask, knowing full well that this time he won't make a mistake. This time he'll save her. In the moment which he pulls on the two webs and ejects himself at full speed towards her, he briefly sees a flash of golden blonde hair flailing wildly and Gwen's beautiful face, her emerald eyes locked onto his through the pointed lenses of his mask.
The act is over in a matter of seconds. He catches her and manages to attach a web to the corner of a stray building and swing out of the line of any falling debris. He plants her safely on the ground and gives her his well-known catchphrase of "your friendly neighbour, Spider-Man" before zipping off again towards the four mechanical armed and insane scientist he once admired.
Spider-Man thinks of Gwendolyn Stacy right then, how proud she must be of him right now, even though she is gone. And Peter Parker's mouth curls underneath and stretches his mask as he flies towards Doctor Octavious with blinding speed and engages him.
So there we have it. I imagine it's dreadful, but I needed to write something based on Peter and Gwen before I could write anything else. I hope, in some way, that you enjoyed this. :)