Hello, Spiders. So. I have to apologize for not updating this for FOREVER. Despite the wonderful amounts of reviews and suggestions, I've been strangely stuck with this series of stories. But, I guess that stickiness is somewhat broken because, hello here's an update! I hope this one is good because I think I've gotten a little out of the groove of the Spider-Man Fanfiction world. This is the dive back in!

Enjoy and PLEASE review!

The warm spring breeze caressed her face gently as she stepped out of the building. She smiled and breathed in the city air, closing her eyes and opening her arms wide to the night sky. She danced around the large pavilion that was the roof. Something inside of her felt wonderful and she couldn't quite figure out why. All she knew was that her soul felt like it was about to fly out of her and explode like a firework in the stars. She let her arms fall gracefully to her sides, opening her eyes, and sighing.

"Having fun?" a voice, amused, asked.

Gwen Stacy spun around, her hair fanning out behind her. A tall masked figure, clad in red and blue stood before her.

"Peter!" she exclaimed, smiling and running towards him. She wrapped her fingers around his forearms, looking into his masked face. "Don't do that. You scared me to death."

"Sorry," Peter mumbled, though Gwen could tell that he was smirking at her. She swat his shoulder lightly. He winced and Gwen's eyes widened.

"Peter, what—"

But she couldn't go on; she was just now realizing her boyfriend's appearance. The shoulder that she had just touched was, to her dismay, covered with a darker red than that of the suit. It was a red that dripped down his arm and remained on Gwen's fingers after she touched him. The suit was torn in multiple places: on his chest, his hands, his neck…he was standing with his weight shifted more on one leg; the other was bent limply inwards.

"Oh my god…Peter—"

"Gwen," he said, holding her shoulder gently. "It's okay."

"No," Gwen breathed. She reached up and gingerly extracted the mask from his head. He was wearing a mixed expression of anxiety and guilt. A bruise was rising on his left cheek and he had a black eye. Gwen reached up and lightly touched her fingertips to his face. "No, it's not, Peter…"

But she didn't say anything more than that. She turned briskly and took him by the hand, leading him to the patio furniture that had been set up.

"Lie down," she ordered, pointing at a long reclining chair. Peter knew not to argue. He stretched out on the soft chair, letting out a deep breath. He was secretly very thankful to get off his feet. Gwen was reaching underneath the wood table, where she had attached a small first-aid kit. With a sigh, she pulled a chair up next to Peter.

"What was it this time?" she asked quietly, opening the kit and resting it on the chair beside her.

"A few robbers," Peter began, slipping the worn gloves off of his hands. "Just some petty theft…"

"Mmhmm…" Gwen narrowed her eyes disbelievingly, reaching behind Peter's neck to unzip the suit. He watched her anxiously as she began to pull the spandex down.

"And—" he tried quickly, before she could see the burns on his chest. It was too late.

"Holy crap!" Gwen gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. He had two giant, raw burns that spread over his shoulder, neck, and chest. Gwen had to blink and look away; she hadn't seen him this beaten up since the Green Goblin and even then…it wasn't this bad. She knew what this meant. This meant that there was another villain.

"Gwen, I know this looks bad, but it doesn't feel as terrible as you'd think." Peter said, reaching out to touch her face.

"Oh, really?" Gwen asked skeptically, turning to him. Peter smiled softly.

"No, actually, it hurts like hell," he shook his head, eyes glinting. Gwen smirked despite herself. Their eyes met and Gwen found that she couldn't look away. She moved his hand on her cheek to her lips and kissed his palm tenderly.

"Peter, who did this to you?" she asked, reaching into the first aid kit without taking her eyes off of Peter's. He sighed, his eyebrows beginning to pinch together with worry. He looked away from Gwen, down at the concrete, unsure of how to explain.

"Do you remember that article I told you about a few days ago? The one about the technician who got electrocuted backstage during a show?" he started. Gwen nodded. Peter lifted a hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes. "Well, there must have been something, I don't know, radioactive in whatever it was electrocuted him because…he didn't exactly die."

Gwen bit her lip.

"Let me guess," she said, lacing her fingers around Peter's. "He mutated somehow and can control electricity?"

"Pretty much," Peter confirmed, running his hand through his hair and messing it up even more. "He was sort of blue-ish and glowing. It was…weird. It was like he was electricity."

Gwen watched him wide-eyed. He stared ahead into space, his thoughts muddled. There hadn't been a villain so dangerous or threatening since the Green Goblin. The mere idea of another entity as powerful as the Goblin was enough to send shivers up and down Peter's spine; after what that monster had done to Gwen…after what had almost happened to her….

It had been two months since the Goblin had flung Gwen off of the bridge. Peter and Gwen hadn't openly spoken about it, but the incident had been in the back of their minds every day. Peter hadn't been able to leave Gwen's side for an entire week, until she had urged him to go, telling him that the city needed him. He was reluctant at first, but eventually, they both got back into their regular routines. Though, Peter had learned a new kind of fear since almost losing Gwen. It absorbed him constantly, the terror of losing the one person he loved the most and had vowed to protect.

"You have to be really careful, Peter," Gwen murmured, obviously thinking along the same lines as him. "These burns aren't normal looking…they could have killed you…"

Peter didn't say anything; he didn't know what to say. She pressed something gently onto one of Peter's burns and he jolted.

"Ack!" he exclaimed. Gwen gave him a look.

"Oh, don't be a baby. If you can handle sustaining a wound, you can handle being treated," she said shortly. Recovering from his shock of pain, Peter sat back and chuckled slightly at her seriousness. Gwen paused in the act of gauzing the burn and tried not to smile. Peter cupped her face once more in his hand and tilted it up to him. He leaned forward.

"Peter, your burns…" Gwen said softly, though her eyes were already closing.

"I don't care…" he breathed, his nose bumping against hers. Gwen almost lost herself as his lips brushed against hers. She started to slowly lower the gauze, but stopped herself. She opened her eyes and reached a hand up to an un-bruised part of Peter's face, stopping him. His eyes opened slowly.

"Gwen—" he began to plead. Gwen smirked and shook her head.

"Cool off, bug boy," she whispered, kissing his cheek and pushing him gently back to a lying position. Peter rested his head back, sighing dramatically. He watched Gwen intently as she bandaged both of his major injuries. Gwen could feel his eyes on her, but she worked determinedly on his wounds. If she looked anywhere else, she would have lost her focus. When she finished, she sighed at him and sat up.

"There," she said. Peter grinned at her, leaning forward again eagerly. Gwen breathed a laugh at him. "Peter…"

"Gwen…" he said, so quietly and so tenderly that the hair on Gwen's arms tingled. She smiled softly and moved her face to meet his. Their lips met gently, sort of brushing each other, at first, before the kiss deepened steadily. Peter's arm snaked around her lower back, pulling her towards him, and his palm cupped the base of her head. Gwen pushed her fingers through his thick, messy hair, loving the feeling of his mouth on hers. She tried to put all of her feelings into that kiss: the surge of joy she had felt when she had first stepped onto the roof, her relief that he was alive and, most of all, the love she had for everything about him. Sometimes she thought it bothered her that he was Spider-Man, that he always had to run off in the middle of dinner or leave her alone in bed to go save the city. But even that was something she loved about him. The things she thought she couldn't stand were really just the things she loved the most.

Peter felt a soft moan rise from somewhere in his throat. Gwen seconded the noise, holding him close, as if to never let go again. Overcome with emotion, Peter suddenly held Gwen around the knees as well as the back and swung her onto his lap.

"Peter," Gwen gasped, releasing his lips, momentarily. Peter returned them quickly.

"What?" he asked, mid-kiss. He moved to press his lips against her neck, drawing a contented sigh from Gwen.

"You're hurt," she said breathlessly. "It might get worse."

"I…Don't…Care." Peter said again, kissing Gwen on the lips in between each word.

"I do," Gwen said a few moments later and, soon after that, they parted. Gwen kissed his forehead before moving back to her chair. They looked deeply into each other's eyes for a while.

"I love you," Peter murmured suddenly, stroking her cheek. Gwen smiled, her insides warming up pleasantly.

"Peter," she whispered, her heart pounding. "I love you, too."

Peter stared at her for a few seconds before a small smile appeared on his lips. His eyebrows scrunched together, his head lowered, and he let out a very long, constricted sigh. Gwen tilted her head at him. He was nervous about something and she could tell it had nothing to do with whatever evil was running around the streets of New York.

"I…" Peter began, his voice shaking slightly. "I've been thinking about…something…for a long time."

Gwen nodded, waiting for more. Peter took a long pause before continuing.

"Gwen, I…I love you more than anything," he said. "I knew from the moment that I met you that you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with." He gazed at her fondly. "I've never met anyone like you, Gwen. You're smart and tactful and just…you're everything to me. We've spent almost five amazing years together and…I don't ever want it to end."

Gwen held her breath, frozen with anticipation. Was he…?

"And when Osborn…when he nearly killed you…I just realized. I realized that no matter what I do, no matter what you do, there's always going to be something that could take us away from each other. There's no way to stop that…and…" Peter faltered, biting his lip, his eyes alight with honesty. "That terrified me. It still does. Every second of every day, it scares me how easily either of us could…" he shook his head quickly. "But then, I thought, who cares about what I can't control? I mean, it's bad and all but…as long as you're putting one-hundred-percent into all that you can control, you're doing something right. So, that's what I want to do. Give it my all. Give us my all."

Very slowly, still holding Gwen's gaze, Peter slid off of the lounge chair and onto the pavement of the roof, landing carefully enough to avoid further injury to his sprained ankle.

"I've wanted to do this for a really, really long time," he said in a hushed voice, a small smile on his lips. "And I didn't imagine being beaten to a pulp when I did it, either, but…I don't care. I love you, Gwen, and…"

Biting his lip, Peter reached into the tiny pocket in his shoe and pulled out a ring with a small diamond encrusted on it. Gwen's eyes widened as she gaped at him. Peter's smile grew.

"Will you marry me?"

Gwen let out a gasp and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Oh my god, Peter," she breathed, tears suddenly pricking her eyes. "Oh my—yes, yes, of course!"

Peter looked slightly surprised, but pleased.

"Really?" he asked, as Gwen flung her arms around his neck.

"Yes, really, you dork!" she half-laughed, half-sobbed. "What, did you think I'd say no?"

Peter just grinned as he hugged her in return. He buried his face in her hair. Gwen's fingers were shaking. She ran them up and down the back of his neck, holding him even closer.

"Do you want to put the ring on?" Peter asked after a few minutes. Gwen shook her head.

"No," she whispered, smiling through her tears. Peter smiled bemusedly and was about to ask her why not, but she answered before he could. "I'm not letting go of you."

Peter laughed, relieved. He didn't quite feel like letting go of Gwen anytime soon.

"And it's been in your shoe for who knows how long," Gwen added, her voice thick from crying.

"Almost a week," Peter informed her, his voice muffled by her shoulder. Gwen froze suddenly. She held onto his neck, but backed her head away so that she could look at him.

"You've had that in your shoe for a week?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"Almost a week," Peter corrected, smirking. Gwen gave him a look. "What?"

"Nothing," Gwen said dismissively. "It's just, you've come home bruised every single night this week and nearly got killed today…and the whole time you had that with you…in your shoe."

Peter shrugged.

"Never know when the time is right," he said.

Gwen stared at him for a few seconds, pensive. She shook her head slightly, smiling.

"You are an amazing man, Peter Parker."

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