It feels like you're a world away and no one can get to you. You can tear every second of a moment into infinitesimally insignificant bits, but you can't find the instant where it all went wrong. You couldn't be there even when you tried. It's always been easier to hold on to the past then to let it go. Having to move on takes a considerable amount of will that most of us don't have. You have to do what's right for yourself and hanging on to strands of what once was is not the answer. Please, for the sake of yourself, just let everything go.

When Gwen returned home the evening her father was murdered, she crawled through her bedroom window, slunk across the floor, and wrapped herself into a ball in the corner of the room. Droplets of blood fell from her superficial wounds, but everything seemed superficial now; meaningless. She fought against every muscle in her body to control the weeping, but no matter how hard she tried, tears kept sweeping across her cheeks. A sharp, burning sensation drilled into the side of her temples as a headache started to build. She couldn't imagine a worse time than now to experience one of her sickening apparitions.

She was still on that rooftop surrounded by an abyss of rain clouds. The Lizard had disappeared long ago and she could feel herself fading through the loss of blood. Even now, her stomach was torn open displaying a river of glistening blood. Was this her death? Was she going to die here? If only the world was as simple as she wanted it to be, perhaps she could have rested in peace.

From the thin air around her, a dim figure appeared before her. Her suddenly blurred vision made it impossible for her to discern anything beyond the lengthy red cloak that draped around the character.

"Gwen?" someone called out her name in both realms.

"Wha…?" she struggled to lift her head from the floor.

"Gwen?" the voice repeated.

"What?" she choked on her dry throat but managed to push her torso upright.

"Gwen…" it was May, and her voice sounded broken. "Are you okay?"

"What's going on?" Rubbing at her sore eyes, for a single moment, Gwen had forgotten everything.

May pulled the hood back on Gwen's disguise and removed the girl's mask. "You're bleeding," May stared at the hole that went through Gwen's shoulder.

"I know." Gwen let her gaze drift to the open window. "It doesn't matter, does it? He's dead, isn't he?"

"It wasn't your fault, Gwen," May spoke in a hushed tone in an attempt to soothe Gwen.

"Let me guess," Gwen felt an uncomfortable crack in her neck as she began standing. "They're blaming Spider-Woman again?"

May's lip started quivering as she rose to her feet with her daughter. "I know it wasn't you," May strained to push the words from her mouth.

Gwen, in a state of lethargy, wrapped her arms around May's narrow frame. "I fucked up," she whispered. "I- I couldn't save him. It was… I let him die."

"You didn't." May did not return Gwen's hug, instead, her eyes drowned in a pool of tears. "I don't know what happened, but I know you didn't kill your father."

"The Lizard," Gwen felt a hint of rage at the mention of his name. "He killed my father."

"We should get you cleaned up." May pulled away from Gwen's grasp and gave up an injured smile.

May held onto Gwen for support as they made their way to the bathroom, but Gwen knew it was only because May wasn't capable of letting go. The two made their way to the bathtub where May eventually released her grip so the girl could sit down on the tub's edge. Gwen solemnly watched her step-mother riffle underneath the bathroom sink and remove the EMS kit hidden in the corner of the cupboard. Supplies in the kit were running low from the recent overuse. They were expensive, too, Gwen thought to herself. On average they would put Gwen two-hundred or more dollars out of pocket for a decent one.

Gwen huffed out a small smirk.

"What is it?" May made her way back to the tub and kneeled on the floor next to Gwen.

"Nothing," Gwen gave a week shrug. "Just thinking about stupid shit."

May scanned Gwen's body spotting the myriad of gunshot wounds. Most of the bullets that were fired at Gwen had only grazed her, but May cringed at the one that had pierced her forearm and the other that had gone cleanly through her shoulder. Despite the painful appearance of these wounds, Gwen gave no indication that she was in physical discomfort. To Gwen, these were minor inconveniences compared to what happened to her father. Most of what you could imagine is a minor inconvenience when you compared it to death.

"Did you see him?" Gwen asked flatly as May got up to wet a cloth in the sink.

"I didn't need to." May tried to contain her frown. "I've seen enough dead people for a lifetime, I'll tell you."

"I wish I hadn't seen him." Gwen's face burned with hot tears. "There was nothing left in him; everything was gone. There wasn't a piece of him in there."

May squeezed the damp cloth as hard as she could until she felt her own fingernails dig into the palms of her hands. "I didn't think that this would happen. Being an officer is a dangerous job, but my husband… And Peter… They were already taken from me. I didn't think God could punish me anymore."

"Nobody is punishing you, May," Gwen responded.

"But it feels that way, doesn't it?" May stopped strangling the cloth and turned to Gwen. "It's not how it works, I get it. But that's not how it feels."

"The grand, stupid motivation of most people," Gwen scoffed. "How you feel; it's how you feel. Fuck, people need to get over it."

"What else is there?" May frowned. "How we feel; it's who we are. It's the most important thing there is."

"That's bullshit," Gwen bolted up from the tub to yell at May. "I'm fucking tired of feeling the way I do all the time! I'm tired of losing everyone all the time! I'm tired of being this- of being this fucking monster!" With a closed fist, Gwen struck the mirror above the sink causing a spiderweb crack to spread through it. "I'm tired of being Spider-Woman," she let out with a final sigh.

The violent act caused May to flinch in response, but she relaxed before continuing to speak, "I will always be proud of what you've done. The people that you've saved and protected; everything you've done as Spider-Woman. You can't forget that people still need her."

"What if I don't need her?" Gwen slowly sat back down on the tub's edge. "People hate me and despise me. These people don't want me and they don't deserve me."

"No one can force you to be Spider-Woman." May crouched next to Gwen and started patting her open wounds with the damp cloth. "And no one could blame you for not wanting to be her anymore… But you became Spider-Woman in the first place for a reason."

"I did it for Peter." Gwen placed a hand over May's. "He said that I was blessed and I should do something good with that. I never wanted to be Spider-Woman."

"What do you think Peter would say?" May continued to gently pat the girl's shoulder wound.

"Something altruistic, probably." Gwen lowered her chin. "I don't want to give up, but it feels like there isn't a point anymore."

"It's your choice."

In books, in movies, in TV, in anything cliché you can think of, funerals are typically covered in the darkness of storm clouds and it may or may not be raining, but probably was. However, this was not the case at George Stacy's funeral. The sun was beaming down on the crowd of black-clad mourners and they could feel the heat of the summer penetrating their clothing. There wasn't a lone cloud in the sky and the endless singing of delighted birds could be heard from everywhere in New York.

Gwen didn't bother to get dressed up like the rest of the folk at the funeral. No, instead she wore a navy-blue pullover that was two times too big for her and a pair of grey leggings accompanied by worn, filthy sneakers. It was difficult enough for her to give a shit and go to a stupid fucking funeral let alone get dressed up for it. What did it matter to her? The man was dead and whatever it is that they were burying that day was not her father. But people's sentiments over materialistic bullshit always got the better of them.

Terry Lee, among many other officers of the NYPD, attended George Stacy's funeral that morning. The last time he had spoken to Gwen Stacy was on the night of her father's death. After reading further into the reports from Pachuag Research Lab, it stung Lee even more knowing the amount of suffering Gwen had already gone through. It was difficult to fathom God punishing someone as much as he had punished Gwen. But that wasn't really how God worked, was it? Her Spider-Woman powers were a blessing for sure; although, it was impossible to say if Gwen Stacy thought the suffering was worth it.

Lee was standing next to Gwen when he attempted to console her. With the best intentions at heart, he carefully wrapped his one arm around the young girl's shoulder as the priest offered a few words above the grave.

Gwen's head snapped in Lee's direction with a wicked scowl. "Don't touch me," she growled in a low tone.

Hurt by her reaction, Lee removed his arm in response. "Sorry," he whispered at her, but Gwen couldn't have been bothered to hear the detective.

Eventually, the service came to a close, and all of the parties slowly departed. They were all headed to the reception that was being held at the house that was no longer George Stacy's. After the crowd had parted, Lee noticed Gwen was still standing in the exact same spot with the exact same dour expression painted across her tired features.

"Are you coming?" Lee asked.

"No," Gwen replied without turning her head to him. "I think I've had enough two-faced assholes for one day."

"But it's at your house." Lee shuffled closer to her. "You can't avoid your own home all day."

"I have and I will." She kept her sight locked on her father's grave.

"I'm sorry about-"

Before Lee could finish, Gwen's voice cracked at him. "-I don't wanna hear it! I've heard enough sorries for a lifetime. Especially from the fucking police."

"I know," Lee sighed letting his sullen eyes drop to the ground.

"Those cops," Gwen spat while gritting her teeth, pointing in the direction of the departing vehicles. "They're all crooked fucking bastards. Police officers led my father into a trap where The Lizard killed him and where they blamed me."

"Did you kill those two officers?" Lee had to ask.

"What the fuck?!" her voice cracked again. "Lee, those two officers were responsible for my father's death. All you fucking cops are so crooked and fucked up!"

"That ain't true," Lee refused to raise his voice at the grieving woman. "You know that not all cops are like those assholes. Your dad wasn't like them. So, I'm gonna ask again, did you kill those two officers?"

"Yes, I fucking killed them," Gwen shouted directly in Lee's face. "And they fucking deserved it!"

"I thought you weren't a murderer?" Lee could feel the heat of anger move into his cheeks. "I thought you were better than that."

"I thought the NYPD was supposed to be better than that!" Gwen's shouts were starting to strain her voice. "Police are supposed to protect us. What the fuck happened? How did it get to this?"

"Bad people come in all shapes and sizes; you know that." Realizing Gwen's frustration, Lee's budding anger morphed into sorrow. She was right; what happened to New York? Everyday things got worse and worse and who was he to place the responsibility of making the world a better place on the shoulders of one person?

"Nothing ever gets better," Gwen's tone flattened out. "I don't know why I try anymore."

"Maybe it's time to give Spider-Woman up," Lee admitted. In truth, Lee knew that New York needed a defender more than ever, but the idea of Gwen going after The Lizard on her own brought him more nightmares. He was certain that The Lizard would be the death of her.

"I still need to find Connors." Gwen wasn't about to let that killer get away with what he'd done.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Kingpin has it out for you and we know The Lizard is working for him," Lee reminded her. "You can't take them all on by yourself."

"Kingpin doesn't want me dead," Gwen added. "Those two officers wanted to capture me alive."

"Even more reason not to go after him." Lee didn't want to imagine what Kingpin had planned for her. Connors had become a tool for Kingpin's destruction; did he think he could do the same to Gwen Stacy?

"I thought you were going to help me?" A hint of frustration came through in her tone. "You're the one who said things are getting worse because of Kingpin. We need to stop him."

"That was before he killed your father." Lee stared upward and squinted at the blinding sun. "You're too emotional, Gwen. You're going to turn this into a revenge mission."

"And what's wrong with that?" Her annoyance at his backpedaling was evident.

"Because I'm afraid you're gonna hurt someone… Or even worse, get yourself hurt." Lee knew he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit his personal feelings towards the situation. Gwen Stacy had lost nearly everything, but more importantly, he didn't want to lose her.

"None of that matters," Gwen almost whined at the detective. "He deserves to suffer for what he's done."

"Who?" Lee asked. "Kingpin or The Lizard? And what's your plan if you do manage to find Connors?"

"My best friend and my father are dead because of Connors!" she cried at him. "He deserves to be punished!"

"In the court of law, as it should be." Lee could feel his heartbreaking at the sound of her grief. "Killing him isn't the answer."

"Are you going to help me or not?" Hot tears came from her red eyes. "I thought you were going to help me?"

"Fine." As much as Lee didn't want to, he also owed Spider-Woman a whole lot. All of New York owed her a whole lot, not that they ever cared about what she had to sacrifice to protect them.

"I've lost so much," tears continued to roll down her face. "I just want this one thing."

"You have to make me a promise." No matter what Lee owed her or what she deserved, he still needed to protect her. "You can't kill Connors. Question him, fine, but don't throw your life away for that asshole."

"I promise." But her words meant nothing to either of them.

When it rains, it pours, even on a sun-filled Saturday. Detective Terry Lee wasn't sure that giving Gwen Stacy any information on Connors was a good idea, but the world wouldn't stop for his personal feelings. Or it shouldn't have to. However, this was the tip of the iceberg and a large problem presented itself to the unfortunate detective. Detective Terry Lee had been suspended from duty, indefinitely.

Lee reported for duty that afternoon not expecting anything new, but he left ten minutes later not expecting to serve the NYPD again. The Miller Twins, those long-forgotten boys who had murdered two innocent girls, suddenly, for no reason, offered the NYPD some privileged intel that they had kept secret for several months. Why hadn't they mentioned it until now; who knows? But it was enough to get Lee thrown out of a job he'd spent the entire thirty-two years of his life working toward. Those thirty-two years he was hoping to be half the man his father was.

The long-forgotten boys told the NYPD that on the night of their capture, Spider-Woman had clearly been conspiring with the detective. The boys described the conversation that Lee had with the Spider-Woman and that it was obvious the two had known each other for a while. Again, the question was why did the boys hold onto this information as long as they did? In the end, it didn't matter. Gwen Stacy was on her own now.

"What, wha- why?" this was Gwen's response after Lee had called her to inform her about the incident. After he spoke to her at the funeral, Gwen took the rest of the day to walk back home in hopes the reception was over by the time she returned. And when she did make it home, the place was empty minus May who was passed out on the living room sofa from wine and endless nights of crying.

"You need to stay away from me," Lee felt a stab in his heart as he spoke these words to her. But what were his other options? If he continued to communicate or help Gwen Stacy, those who were keeping a close eye on the now-retired detective would certainly become suspicious. Gwen had gone through enough, the last thing he wanted was for her to end up in jail because of him.

"I- I can't- I can't believe you're saying this to me," Gwen was bewildered. After everything they had been through together, he decides to abandon her now of all times? "Why are you doing this?"

"Don't call me again, Gwen," Lee reiterated. "Don't visit; you can't come here."

"Wha- wha- why are you doing this, Terry?" She was gasping for air. How could she find Connors without him? She didn't even know where to start. The man didn't have a Facebook page, a twitter account, a fucking Instagram, and it wasn't like she could look up the fucker in a phone book. "I need to find Connors."

"You need to stop." Lee knew that sometimes everything you worked for came to a catastrophic halt and you had to live with that fact.

"I'm not going to stop looking for Connors," she growled over the phone. "Fuck Connors, I'll go after Kingpin himself."

"Gwen, please," his voice was low and his tone was weak. "Save yourself and stop this. You're not a murderer. I beg you to not do anything you'll regret."

In her rage, Gwen hung up on Terry. The amount of loss was becoming unbearable which caused her to scream at her bedroom's ceiling.

A few moments later, she heard a soft knock at her door. "Gwen?" spoke May through the door. "Are you okay?"

"I am one-hundred-percent, not okay," Gwen mumbled back.

The door slowly squeaked open. "I know," May said as she poked around the edge of the frame. "I know."

"What am I supposed to do?" Gwen sat down at the corner of her bed, resting her chin in her hands.

"I think you should do what's right for you," May sat down beside her. "You can't do this forever; you have to take a break, Gwen. You're going to wear yourself out."

"I can't give up," Gwen released a labored sigh. "I can't just let them get away with murdering my father."

"Gwen, you're going to kill yourself trying," May placed a hand on the small of the girl's back. "You have to stop."

"What?" With a look of confusion, Gwen turned to May. "You can't think it's okay that- that thing gets away with killing my father; with killing the man that you love?"

"I find that it would be harder to lose both of you."

Gwen's frown deepened as her frustration reached its peak. "No," she replied sharply. "Fuck that, I'm not… I'm not giving up." her words faded with her breath.

Everyone reaches a breaking point, and Gwen Stacy was one step away from reaching hers. The first thought that occurred to her was to contact Harry Osborn. He had asked for her number at some point, but she couldn't remember how long ago it was. By now, the wounds that The Lizard had inflicted upon her were barely visible; no scars would be left behind. That was the power of Spider-Woman; no one had to see the amount of struggle and danger she tangled with on a semi-regular basis. This was all next to point of her original idea of contacting Harry Osborn.

He had asked for her number, and roughly one day ago the young man had sent her a message as promised. The message was unspecified, just asking to meet for coffee at someplace at some time. Gwen figured Harry wasn't a dense man. He had to have known that George Stacy was her father; it was easy enough to put two and two together. George Stacy was a police Captain, so he was considered an important individual by the public eye. This, Gwen did not care for and would have refused any press an interview if May hadn't already swatted those unrelenting swine away.

Through all of Gwen Stacy's reasoning, she realized that contacting Harry Osborn to ask him questions about Curt Connors would likely come off as odd, to say the least. Not only would it be remarkably odd, but it could also lead Harry down a path of suspicions he may not have previously considered about Gwen Stacy. Why would Gwen inquire about a random scientist employed at Oscorp? And if she brought up The Lizard, how does Gwen know there's a connection between Oscorp, Connors, and The Lizard? These weren't typical questions a normal person asks another person on a first date, or whatever it was that it was. Talking to Harry Osborn was out of the question, but maybe there was one last sliver of hope for Gwen. Or so she thought.

"He sold everything and that was that," these were the words that the real estate agent said to Gwen when she arrived at Stephen's now-vacated penthouse apartment. It was no secret where the man lived; Strange had no qualms about making his privilege known through social media. Although, his accounts had shown no signs of activity since the day of his accident.

"He sold everything?" the disheveled Gwen asked rhetorically. Gwen was no one's sight for sore eyes in her current disposition. She had resorted to wearing clothing that was stained and too large for her and showering only happened when May shoved the hapless girl into the bathroom. All of this was obvious to the agent who wondered what a wretched creature was doing searching for someone like Strange.

"He sold everything," the petite yet older woman reiterated her prior statement.

"Where'd he go?" Gwen rubbed at the greasy strand of hair plastered to her forehead.

"Why would I know?" the agent shrugged at Gwen in annoyance.

"Okay, then who knows where he is?" Gwen rolled her eyes at the tacky agent.

"No one knows where he is," she replied while she tugged at the bottom of her waaaay too-tight skirt, in Gwen's opinion. "And if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Oh, man," Gwen let out a sarcastic response. "Good thing you added that extra insult to be a big cunt."

"Wha-?" the agent was baffled by Gwen's brashness.

"Oh, piss off," Gwen waved at her. "Why the fuck did he sell all his shit and leave?"

"Are you even a friend of Stephen Strange?" the agent scoffed and followed it with a downturned mouth.

"Yeah," Gwen nodded. "Me and the Doc go way back. So, what happened?"

"I think if you were a friend of Stephen you would very well know what happened to him." The agent took an uneasy step forward and made a shooing motion.

"Alright, alright," Gwen flipped around and arched her back away from the woman. "I'm going. I'll just have to find Stephen Strange myself."

As fate would have it, she did find Stephen Strange.