A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for your feedback on the last chapter. A lot happens in this, so I hope you're ready!

Chapter Ten

Gwen was working on something in the lab when Dr. Rivers approached, clearing his throat behind her. She had been alone before and she jumped at the intrusion, turning around quickly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Dr. Rivers said.

"That's okay," Gwen said, her pulse racing. "I've been a bit jumpy lately."

He nodded, as if he understood. "Right. Well, I wanted to speak to you about something."

"Okay."

"Could we maybe come back to my office?" Dr. Rivers asked. She nodded, thinking the ultimate worst as she followed him through the labyrinth of hallways back to his office. He closed the door and gestured for her to sit in a seat opposite his desk.

"Is everything okay?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes. I just noticed that you've been spending an awful lot of time in the lab lately."

She swallowed hard, nodding. She had hoped he wouldn't notice, but it appeared that he had.

"And from what I can see, the work that I have given you should not be taking that long."

"Dr. Rivers, I'm so sorry. I-"

Dr. Rivers interrupted her, smiling slightly as he said, "Gwen, you're not in trouble. We've had interns use the labs for school research before."

"School research," she stammered. Her cheeks flushed. Somehow she had fallen into the perfect excuse. "Yeah, I…uh…hoped you wouldn't mind."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your work from me, I don't at all," Dr. Rivers said. "You should talk with me beforehand, though. Tell me a bit about what you're working on. I could direct you toward perhaps better equipment here that you're not familiar with."

"Better equipment?"

Dr. Rivers nodded. "OsCorp is state of the art, Gwen. There are machines here that you probably wouldn't even know where to start with. I'd be more than happy to assist you."

"Well, thank you," Gwen said. "Next time, I will consult you first."

"Wonderful," he said, rising from his seat. He gestured for her to lead the way out of the office as he asked, "Now, how are those biochemical experiments going that I had you start on yesterday?"

Gwen called Peter after she left OsCorp and told him about what had happened with Dr. Rivers.

"Maybe you should let up a bit on the experiments," Peter suggested.

"Those experiments are the only way we're going to find out what's going into the harbor," Gwen said. "I have to keep up with them."

"Yeah, but maybe take a few days off," Peter said. "If Dr. Rivers noticed, then I'm guessing he's not the only one."

"I guess I can take a few days off," Gwen reasoned. It wouldn't set her back too much, and Peter was right. If Dr. Rivers was starting to notice something off, it was only a matter of time before more people did.

"Have you gotten any other calls?" Peter asked. It had been two weeks since the first call, and he wondered if they would follow up.

"Nope. Just the one."

"That's good," Peter said. "You'd tell me, right? If you got another?"

Gwen wasn't entirely sure. Another phone call would almost surely bring an end to their investigation, and she was too invested now to give up. To humor him, though, she said, "Of course."

"Well, let me know if anything else comes up. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure. Bye Peter."

Hal Roper didn't like wasting talent. It was far and few between these days, and he could see clearly that Gwen Stacy was a skilled scientist. Only seventeen years old, he could only imagine what she could achieve past college and graduate school. He didn't like wasting talent, but when that talent jeopardized his company, there wasn't much else he could do. He sighed, rubbing small circles into his temples with his fingertips before picking up his phone and dialing.

"This is Roper," he said, voice crisp. "I need something taken care of."

Peter sat on the front steps of his house, drinking a cup of coffee as he watched cars drive past. The sun had long set, and occasionally he would see a pick-up truck inch by with its trunk heavy with discarded couches and other odds and ends. They were scavengers. People who snaked their way through neighborhoods at night, on the hunt for anything of worth that people had discarded. His Aunt had thrown away an old picture frame and he watched the truck come to a halt. A short man with a splotchy beard and baseball cap came out from the front seat, glancing at Peter for a moment before taking the frame and tossing it in the back of the truck. He climbed back into the car and it inched further down the street.

His phone buzzed suddenly, and he pulled it from his pocket. Gwen's number flashed on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Peter." The sound of her voice was enough to set him on edge. It was raw and guttural, like after someone had been crying.

"Gwen, what's wrong?" he asked immediately, switching the phone to his other ear.

"I-I need you to meet me somewhere."

"Where? I'll meet you anywhere."

There was a pause and then she said, "St. Joseph's hospital."

Not needing to hear anything else, he said, "I'll be right there."

He stood up from the stoop and walked back into the house. Aunt May sat in front of the television, some comedy playing on the screen, and she glanced up at him with a grin. Her face fell when she saw his expression.

"Peter?"

"I need to go to the hospital," he said hurriedly. "I'll call you when I'm heading back."

"Peter, what's going on?" Aunt May asked, raising shakily from the couch. "What's happened?"

"It's Gwen," he said. "I don't completely know what happened, but she called me and I really need to be there," He stepped forward and kissed her cheek. "I promise to call you when I know more."

"Goodness," Aunt May breathed out. "That poor girl. She's been through too much."

Peter couldn't agree more. He waved goodbye to his aunt and then made his way out of the house.

It should have been her. That was all Gwen could think about as she sat in the lobby of the emergency room, fingers restlessly puling at the sleeves of her jacket. It should have been her. She should have been in the car. It should have been her in the car when it careened through the red light when the brakes failed. It should have been her in that car when an SUV rammed into the driver's side, making the metal twist and crumple like tin foil. It should have been her.

Instead, it was her mother.

The other car was in the shop, and when her mom told her she was taking her car for some errands after dinner, she thought nothing of it. Yes, it was technically Gwen's car, but her parents paid for the car and insurance. She never minded them taking it now and then.

"Gwen."

His voice pulled her from her thoughts and she looked up, eyes bone dry as they met Peter's. She had cried enough that day. So much, in fact, that she wondered if it was even possible to produce more tears. She used up her daily quota. In the past few months, she felt like she had cried enough for a lifetime.

"She's still in surgery," Gwen said, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth. "There was a lot of internal damage from the accident."

"What happened?" Peter asked, sitting down next to her. She could see that he went to take her hands, but then pulled back.

"There was an accident," she began slowly. "My mom was driving my car and the breaks failed. She went straight through a red light and an SUV hit her."

"Gwen-"

"But it's strange," she interrupted, her voice beginning to tremble as she continued. This was the point she couldn't get past for the several hours she sat alone in the waiting room. "We just had my car checked a few weeks ago. My warranty was about to end, so my mom had me bring it in. Everything checked out. The brakes were fine."

What she was suggesting was ridiculous. Yet, at the same time, he knew she was right. He went to speak, but she cut him off again.

"They did this," she said softly, staring ahead listlessly. "They warned me to stop my research, but I didn't. I refused to stop, and they did exactly what they said they would."

"Gwen, you had no way of knowing they would do this."

"But I did," Gwen said. "They told me what would happen. This is my fault. All of this is my fault."

Her numbness developed into searing pain, and she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her waist as she squeezed her eyes shut. When she was a little girl, whenever she was afraid she used to close her eyes. She believed that if she closed her eyes, whatever was happening would stop. It was a childish notion, but she held on to it. She felt his arms envelop her and she leaned into his warmth, her head pressed against his chest.

"This is not your fault," he murmured. "It's OsCorp. And they will pay."

"No," she said fiercely, pulling away. "Don't do anything foolish."

"Gwen-"

"I won't have you getting hurt," she said. "I can't have that on my conscience, too."

"They need to be taken down."

"And we will," she said. "But this isn't going to turn into some revenge attack. We'll work together and do it the right way."

"And what way is that?"

She sighed, rubbing her hands on her thighs. "I haven't worked that out yet."

Peter glanced around the waiting room and asked, "Are you here alone?"

Gwen nodded. "My brothers went home with my grandparents. I said I wanted to stay longer."

"Do you want me to drive you there?"

She shook her head. Her bangs poked at her eyes and she swiped them to the side wearily.

"I just want to go home," she said.

Peter nodded. "Sure. I'll take you."

The Stacy apartment was eerily silent. He walked behind Gwen, glancing around the empty living room before following her up to her bedroom. She sat heavily on her bed, shoulders slumping. She glanced at the window nervously, like a small child daring a peek at the closet at night, before turning her attention back to Peter.

"Will you be alright?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'll be fine. You should head back. It's late."

"Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"I'll be fine," she repeated, shaking her head.

"Alright. I'll, uh, call you in the morning." He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Call me if you need anything tonight."

She nodded and he turned around and walked down the stairs. Just as he reached the front door he heard the hurried patter of footsteps on the stairs. He turned around and Gwen was at the foot of the staircase.

"Gwen?"

"Stay," she said, voice strangled as she asked for the help that she always claimed she didn't need. "Please stay."

"I thought you said-"

"I know what I said, but I was lying. I'm trying to be okay, but I'm not. I'm really not. And I'm scared. I don't think I've ever been this scared in my life, Peter. I don't know what's happening or how to stop it. But I do know that when you're here, I feel just a little bit less like my world is imploding. So, please…please stay."

"Okay," he said softly. "Let me just call Aunt May."

She nodded, her cheeks flushed from her outburst. She leaned against the banister, fingertips rubbing at the grainy wood. He called Aunt May and made a quick explanation of everything that had happened. When he hung up Gwen was looking at him with an almost timid expression.

"Aunt May says hello," he said.

She nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked. "Something to drink? My Aunt May drinks a lot of tea during stuff like this. I could make you some."

Gwen smiled softly, but shook her head. "I think I just want to go to bed."

"Sure. Of course. If you have some blankets, I'll sleep down here on the couch."

Gwen went over to the closet and pulled out a blanket and pillow. She asked him if that was enough, and he nodded.

"Thank you for staying," she said, avoiding his gaze. "I really appreciate it."

"You don't have to thank me," he told her. "I want to be here."

She finally looked at him, and the tenderness in his eyes made her stomach flip. She handed him the blanket and pillow, stepping back.

"Well, good night."

"Good night, Gwen."

She walked back upstairs, shutting the door. She changed into her pajamas and then slipped under her covers.

He couldn't fall asleep. It wasn't surprising when he thought of everything that happened. They tried to kill her. Anger rose in his chest, but he forced the rage to abate. She didn't want him to go out for revenge, and he would honor her wishes. Even if he thought she was wrong.

He heard someone softly walking down the stairs. He sat up and Gwen walked toward him, a sheepish look on her face. She didn't say anything, even when he asked her what was wrong. Instead she sat on the edge of the couch and gently pushed him back toward the cushions, stretching out beside him. She wrapped her arm around his torso, curling up against his body.

"Gwen-"

"Please don't push me away," she murmured. "Not tonight. Please."

He reached in between them and tugged the edge of the blanket from under her. She watched him as he pulled the cover over her, tucking it under her chin.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He hesitated before pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep," he murmured. "I'll be here."

A/N: Feedback makes me very, very happy. So, please leave some love!