Gwen Stacy's remarkable spiral into insanity Chapter 7: Gwen gets slapped by dramatic irony, a spider-man fanfic

Author's Note: Firstly, thanks to all of you for over 1000 views! It means a lot that you are reading my work, and I won't understate it with another unfunny 'joke'. Thanks :). Secondly, yes this is a day or two late.. r than I usually post because, surprise, surprise I procrastinated! Thirdly, new chapter go read:

Gwen gets slapped by dramatic irony.

Her usual backstreets route had been blocked off by police investigation.

Obviously.

So, instead of the glorious racket of lovesick pigeons intermingled with her favorite heavy rock; Gwen got to hear all the woeful tales of corporate melodrama and emphatic cursing that came packaged with the high street. And she didn't even have her music to distract her because Gwen had been too busy having a figurative heart attack to grab her headphones that morning. Not that her mind wasn't busy enough already. Trying her hardest to concentrate on where she planted her feet rather than the constant stream of self-loathing spouting out of her ears, Gwen fiercely meandered towards her apartment block.

Gwen could dwell on that day's events, but she was all too tired of life's bullshit.

She wanted to figure it all out, to solve it like some simple algebraic equation. To get this ordeal out of the way so she could return to her normal, boring-ass life that seemed so distant now. It wasn't like Gwen to not have all the answers. She'd had her taste of the thrilling unknown and she'd very much like to take that back now.

No more fever dreams.

No more stabbing reminders.

No more violence even if Flash absolutely deserved it.

Occasionally, Gwen caught sight of her scabbing knuckles swaying shakily by her side and all at once the shock would return. Cracked pavement swam beneath her as she perfectly pictured the disorientation on their faces, the pool of red dying the off-white floor- it wouldn't leave her alone. She'd shift focus to the lady trying to cover up the pink milkshake stain on her shirt with her groceries, but somehow the memories would always worm their way back into her mind, like a disease. An insatiable, rapacious disease.

"Get out of my head." she mumbled roughly. A young man sideways glanced at her, but she didn't care. Her eyes were fixed firmly to the ground. All she needed to do was get home so she could wallow in her pity privately. Maybe Flash had been right - Gwen was pathetic. The second she experienced anything other than mundanity, her mind had crumbled into a puddle of anxiety. Maybe that's because of the way she was raised - follow your premeditated path with precise focus and you'll be guaranteed success. That was the way her parents did it, so that's the way Gwen should do it too; no going off the beaten track. And that was how she'd planned to go about achieving success - even if it killed her - but then along came the bright idea that got her into this mess in the first place. What else could she do but crumble?

Even under the stress of everything, something had still definitely been off since this morning. Gwen's world was wonkier than it had ever been. Impulses crackled along her spine even as she stepped off the curb and over the inky tarmac, tugging at her brain in five thousand directions. Gwen Stacy wasn't supposed to be able to stick to the ceiling. Gwen Stacy wasn't supposed to be able to sense something before it happened. Gwen Stacy wasn't supposed to be able to pummel someone into a locker with a single punch.

For now, home could wait.

The girl wandered down the nearest alleyway, the pang for answers getting the better of her. The comforting texture of bricks ran along her fingers. Pebbles slid under the grip of her sneakers. Crows encircled the gray clouds, cawing in some sort of strange melody. Gwen tried to find a rhythm. A beat. A pulse that wasn't her own heart pounding beneath her ribcage. Nothing. Just another dilapidated, creaking warehouse that wavered in the breeze before her as she came to a stop. Chains hung like cobwebs from the corrugated metal roof. Shadows slept in the corner hidden by long abandoned construction tools. Rust crept along the frail beams, accompanied by gardens of moss gnawing at its base. It wasn't perfect, but she'd found somewhere reassuring enough to figure this all out.

If Gwen couldn't solve her problems by logic, then she'd have to do it by trial and error.

A few LED lights flickered desperately in the background as Gwen glowered at the brick wall before her. There were only two ways this could go, and both seemed as terrifying as the other. This one mistake was bleeding into everything around her and sooner or later, it would have to come to a head. Whether she'd go mad with regret before that, was another question entirely. Adrenaline rippled through her like a shallow wave. This was ludicrous. Absolutely insane. But after everything that had gone down recently, Gwen had to resort to the insane for answers.

"Fuck it."

Tentatively, she positioned her hands on the wall, the roughness clinging to her palms. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath, closing her eyes, as if that would make what she was doing any less absurd. Nobody was watching. Without wasting another moment, she lifted her right foot to the wall, found a crevice in the brickwork to grip onto, and began to climb.

A chill seeped through her t-shirt.

Her trembling hand reached further up the wall.

There was nothing beneath her feet.

She was weightless.

Gwen opened her eyes, slowly; it took a few seconds to adjust to her surroundings. She'd certainly climbed; alright. The roof groaned a foot above her head; her startled eyes in line with the set of chains dripping from the central beam. She was hanging off the wall; in her usual clothes, empty handed, relying only on this preternatural ability. The draught intensified, blowing about loose scraps of iron nestled by the entrance. Something in her chest scrunched, forcing out the remaining air in her lungs.

Holy.

Shit.

What.

The

Fuck.

Was.

Gwen.

Seeing.

Right.

Now?

Was.

This.

Real?

Was.

She.

Hallucinating?

Her mouth refused to compute. Her tongue was bone dry. Her thoughts whirred endlessly. For once, nothing could sum up what she'd found. Yesterday evening - a simple bullying incident. Midnight - an unfortunate crime scene. The spider bite - wrong place, wrong time and she'd been poisoned. That was it. End of story. Until she tripped and fell onto the ceiling and sent the local bully flying. She thought she'd gone crazy, finally. But even that had an answer - one that she just couldn't accept. Because it meant something far larger than Gwen could understand. She hadn't been completely off her rocker, but that wasn't even reassuring anymore. This wasn't a joke, or a dream, or an illusion.

It.

Had.

All.

Been.

100%.

Totally.

Real.

Gwen dropped down to the floor, more than a little shaken up. How the fuck would she explain this to her father? Alternatively, if she kept it to herself, how long would it take for people to find out? How long before another bathroom incident occurred and she found herself grasping onto the delicate display board of nuestro intercambio escolar con España? How would Gwen explain that to her classmates, huh? She buried her face in her hands, too overwhelmed with scenarios to move from where she crouched.

Buzz.

16:14

did you hear that flash got sent to the hospital?

16:17

so i messaged liz and she's telling me you punched him in the face :0

16:17

like shit! thats so not like you

She instinctively checked her phone, even though Felicia's texts always felt like reopening a healing wound. This time, she'd poured salt on them, too. In the blur of the last 10 minutes, Gwen had let herself ignore the whole episode with Flash, and it had felt amazing. She was a worrier by nature, but now that her problems had outgrown test scores and the uphill battle to override her studying habits, that part of her had exacerbated tenfold.

16:29

not to gossip, but have you heard the rumor about you punching Flash in the face?!

She let her face fall back into the safety of her hands. Fucking hell. Why had Gwen thought she'd escaped scot-free? Felicia and company were having a field day with Gwen's bounty of fuck-ups. One by one, it all reentered her headspace. Sly tears lined her eyes. The breath in her trachea prickled. No. She couldn't be this weak again. Gwen Stacy was done with being on the edge of an anxiety attack.

Gradually, she rose to her feet, heart thumping against her ribcage. Looking around for anything to channel her emotions into, she stomped over to the nearest scrap of rusty corrugated metal. Her temper surged. She'd screwed it all up. She'd fucking broken someone's jaw. Gwen had nobody to blame but herself for not keeping control. It just so happened that it also had to be the day she developed unnatural strength, because the universe loved its irony. Maybe this whole fucking thing was just some charade by the universe to knock her off her pedestal. Maybe that's what this was. Maybe Gwen Stacy was meant to crumble spectacularly.

Well fuck the universe. Both of Gwen's shaking hands clutched the corrugated iron, her jaw wound up tighter than a steel cable, and in one go tore it furiously in two. And y'know what, fuck Felicia Hardy, too. She hurled the shreds of metal to the ground, where they crumpled against the concrete and sent a handful of sparks flying into the air. Gwen took a second to comprehend everything.

Watching the white mist of her exhale dissolve into the breeze, Gwen sensed an unfamiliar composure replace the anger. She couldn't redirect her own mistakes onto some whim of fate. She had no control over what other people spread about her. She wasn't, in reality, slipping that much. Today had just been a terrible day. That was all. As long as Gwen could get to grips with whatever powers she'd acquired; and if she could even accept the truth in the first place.

16:44

where are you? you promised you'd be at band practice tonight!

16:47

we've been waiting 15 minutes.

"Sh-"

Gwen hurriedly opened up the keyboard.

16:51

forgot, gimme 10 :|

Her mind was all over the damn place. MJ had specifically reminded her earlier that band was scheduled today and yet in the chaos of it all, she'd managed to forget. She haphazardly collected her bags and marched out of the warehouse. Gravel grazed the rubber soles of her sneakers as she recollected the memory of her humiliated rush to leave school as soon as possible after the bell. The sooner she got away, the less pestering she'd get about the whole Flash situation, and the less chance she'd have to face Felicia.

Buzz.