Whaddup.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: All you legal eagles can calm down. I don't own none of this.


The past three days had gone seemingly exactly as Peter imagined they would. Feelings of disappointment, worry, and unworthiness continued to haunt him. He locked himself within his bedroom for the first day, his feelings and thoughts a complete jumbled mess. Peter couldn't think rationally for more than a minute. He felt hollow, and he moved around sluggishly. He stared at the headline of the article upon the Daily Bugle newspaper, which he had bought after all, that spoke so ill of Spider-Man. He had read the single article so repeatedly that he was sure he had sub-consciously memorized it. The line that mentioned Gwen terrified him. Although they didn't mention her by name, it was enough to frighten Peter with the mere statement that it was the daughter of George Stacy that was at the scene. He sat paralyzed with only the faint tick-tock of a clock being the only sound in the room. His phone went off numerous times, undoubtedly it was Gwen calling. He paid no notice. Aunt May would frequently come up to his bedroom to check on him, but she would retreat quickly after her questions and words went unanswered and unnoticed by Peter.

The second day Peter spent strolling around the upper Manhattan streets. He had listened to the voicemails and read the many texts Gwen had sent him. Seeing her name upon his phone screen created a painful, gut-wrenching feeling within him. He listened to her pleading words to call her back. The sentence upon the article that mentioned her ran through his mind. He paid notice to every newsstand rack he passed by. The Daily Bugle, a widely respected newspaper, was poised along the front of every rack. He scanned quickly through the newspaper. He found a short article that once again criticized Spider-Man's ability to protect the city. Feelings of anger once again burst through him.

"Hey, man. If you wanna read the whole thing, you're gonna have to buy it," the clerk told him from behind the counter.

Peter purchased the newspaper, fully knowing it would only bring him more feelings of worthlessness. He sat through the night reading the small article.

On the third day, Peter had yet to gain enough self-confidence in donning the Spider-Man suit. Gwen had not tried to contact him. Feeling suffocated within his room, even though he had cracked open a window, he decided to get out of the house once more to roam the streets of upper Manhattan. He paid no notice to the shredded pieces of newspaper that littered his bedroom floor. Although there were several people surrounding Peter as he pushed past them along the busy sidewalk, he still felt alone. Peter though that Spider-Man was someone that New York City could look up to, and cherish as their hero. Peter, every time he donned the suit, felt relevant.

Without the suit, who am I? Peter asked himself, I'm irrelevant.

Passing by a corner store, he entered in hopes of quenching his newly arisen thirst. Waiting for the cashier to give him his change, Peter shot a quick glance towards the newspaper that lay stacked upon the counter. He purchased it. Continuing his long walk, he had come upon a park with an inviting bench that egged Peter to sit upon it. He opened the newspaper searching desperately for anything about him. Satisfied he found nothing, he was about to throw the newspaper when he caught glimpse of a small article advertising the hiring of interns at the Daily Bugle. Peter initially thought it a terrible idea to work for a newspaper that constantly criticized him, but he quickly changed his mind. Working would surely occupy much of his time along with Spider-Man when he mustered enough energy and confidence to resume his duties. Lack of free time meant no aching, painful silences that whispered discouraging words and horrible scenarios into Peter's mind. He would stop by the Daily Bugle offices once school started up, which was in two days.

Peter felt the vibration of his cell phone. Gwen was calling. Feeling the initial shock and worry of Gwen having been mentioned within the article slowly dispersing, he answered it.

"Hey," Peter said.

He heard a pause at the end of the line. Peter assumed it was from surprise that he had actually answered.

"I've been trying to get a hold of you for three days. I didn't know if you even made it home," Gwen argued through the other line.

Peter sighed.

"I should have called back. Are you at home?" he asked her.

A pause.

"Yes," Gwen answered.

"I'm coming over," Peter told her before disconnecting the call.

Twenty minutes later, had Peter not stopped to evaluate his thoughts he would have been there earlier but nonetheless, he arrived at Gwen's bedroom window. Of course not wearing the Spider-Man suit, Peter had to suffer through the multiple flights of stairs before he reached Gwen's window. He accomplished it almost tirelessly and effortlessly. It had begun sprinkling outside.

Gwen hastily opened the window.

"The glider and suit are from OsCorp. They were top secret items. They were still being developed with high weapon machinery until they were stolen. Only a few people knew about the break-in. They didn't want to cause alarm," she spoke with alarm.

Peter responded with silence. Gwen, unfazed by Peter's stiff posture, continued speaking. She began pacing around her bedroom.

"He stole them from OsCorp, but how? OsCorp is a highly secured building. It would be impossible."

"Stop," Peter spoke suddenly. He placed a shaking hand upon her window sill.

Gwen, having moved a few steps away, inched back towards him.

"What?" Gwen asked. Confusion arose within her.

"Did you see the newspaper from three days ago?" he asked.

Gwen immediately turned rigid. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yes," she told him.

Peter nodded.

"They mentioned you," Peter stated.

"I know," she told him. Gwen refused to meet Peter's glare. She ran a hand along her arm.

"This is serious, Gwen," Peter told her.

"Peter, it's a three day old article. A single reporter wanted a direct quote from me. That's hardly any damage," Gwen protested.

Peter shook his head. "It still doesn't – What? A quote? They came to your apartment?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter. I didn't say anything. They left with nothing," Gwen told him.

"What if they had mentioned you by name? What if you had done more than push past the boundary and argue with a reporter? What if I had been yelling out in pain or knocked unconscious?" Peter asked her, clearly vexed by the situation.

"You were knocked unconscious. I was scared, Peter. I wasn't thinking," Gwen argued. She threw her hands up in desperation.

"You weren't thinking," Peter repeated.

He continued speaking with no hesitance. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

"It could have been much worse. Reporters could be knocking down your door right now asking you if you have any affiliation with me. Your name would be on the headline of every newspaper and tabloid in this damn city," Peter told her.

His words seemed almost slurred as he solely spoke what came to mind. He inhaled deeply, attempting to catch his breath.

"People cannot know that we have any sort of affiliation. You can't be involved with me, Gwen."

Hurt was visible upon Gwen's face, but she soon hid it with an emotion of annoyance. A strand of hair removed itself from behind her ear. It fell in front of her face, but she was too bothered to notice.

"You've said that more times than I can count."

Peter didn't know how to continue to move about the situation. He sat himself upon the edge of Gwen's window sill.

"I can't just let you be involved with me knowing what is capable of happening. I can't let anything happen to you, Gwen," he told her, "This –"

Peter paused.

Gwen stiffened quickly. Her eyes glazed over with anger.

"What? What were you going to say?" she asked.

Peter stood in silence. The rain continued pounding against the window behind him. Thunder rumbled off in the distance.

"Say it, Peter. Tell me more about that stupid promise. Tell me how you're going to leave me again. Walk away right now, but contradict yourself by telling me you wish it could be different," Gwen told him.

As Peter stared into her pained, tear-filled eyes, he tried to think only of the reason he was putting himself, as well the girl he loved, through so much pain. The image of Norman floating upon his glider over the building was permanently framed within Peter's mind. The Green Goblin was overlooking the entire commotion. He had seen Gwen battle against the tight hold of an officer, and he had seen her yelling at the young reporter defending Spider-Man. Norman could very well choose Gwen as his next victim to torture for the very well sake of it. Peter held on tight to this image. He tired to rationalize within his own mind that this was enough reason to cut ties once again with Gwen.

"I want to be with you," he told her.

Peter wanted nothing but to be with Gwen, but reality itself was pulling them both apart. It was upsetting to Peter that Gwen had yet to see his true intentions. He was only looking out for her safety.

It boggled Peter's mind that he felt so strongly for a girl. He had never imagined himself to be so involved with a girl as he was with Gwen. In the past, had Peter known he would date the girl he had fawned over since his freshman year, he would make absolutely sure to not be a boy who cared nothing for anyone but themselves in a relationship. He had witnessed such relationships at Midtown High School. The girl was always left with a broken heart and unanswered questions. To Peter's disappointment, he had become just that.

Gwen scoffed. "That's what you keep saying. It's starting to lose its credibility."

It took as much power as Peter could gather to not break down into a complete unfixable mess before Gwen. He struggled to keep his face empty of emotion.

I'm no good for you, Gwen, Peter thought.

"This - this was a mistake," Peter said.

The words tasted vile as they escaped from him. Studying Gwen, Peter knew his words had done their purpose. He knew she deserved better than what he had put her through. His words, although a complete lie, would be the driving force for Gwen to rid herself of Peter Parker from her life. She could then resume her life as the well-educate, brilliant, gorgeous girl that had no knowledge of the existence of Peter Parker that he had grown so fond of.

Gwen lifted a clenched hand and pressed it against Peter's chest. Tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill.

Peter, careful not to hurt her, held her moving fists within his own hands. He was incredibly stronger than her. She attempted to remove his hands from hers.

"Leave," Gwen told him defiantly. Her words seemed force as though she was aching to say something entirely of a different nature. She released the hold on his shirt. She wiped her tears, yet the tear streaks were still visible upon her cheeks.

Peter's face held no emotion, but within his mind, words wishing to be said were thrown every which way.

I'm so sorry, Peter tried to tell her.

Peter felt an invisible, undeviating wall of tension suddenly spring between the two of them once again. Gwen shut the window angrily after he exited her bedroom. The rain hit hard against him. Gwen spared Peter a small look before shutting her blinds. He thought he saw traces of anger and hate, yet also love, and he wondered how that could be.