Reckless
At OsCorp the next day Julie, a woman in her early forties and one of Gwen's immediate supervisors, ushers her in excitedly.
"We're close," she says to Gwen, unraveling several large strips of paper full of scribble it will take Gwen most of the afternoon to decipher. Julie points emphatically at a particularly small set of scribbles, which Gwen makes a mental note to remember later when she will inevitably be pouring over it.
"Close to … ?" says Gwen, prompting Julie to continue.
"Look!"
Gwen is trying, for the life of her, but she can't figure out what any of it means. "Julie, what—"
"A preventative measure—look. Look. To make the enucleated egg and the transfer nucleus more compatible—"
"I can't read it," says Gwen honestly, but she can tell by the tremor in Julie's voice that whatever this is, it's huge. She can't help but get caught up in the excitement of it herself, and she suddenly needs to know what's going on, needs to know faster than it's going to take for her to pick through Julie's illegible handwriting. "I can't read it—"
"Here," says Julie, grabbing Gwen's arm and unceremoniously dragging her over to one of the larger mainframes in the lab, where Gwen sees an enormous and much more organized display flashing at them. It takes Gwen almost a minute to even start to make sense of it, but once she does she can't help the grin that splits across her face.
"Oh my god," she says, and Julie almost hops with impatience and excitement. Gwen stares at it in awe. "This—could change everything."
"I was working really late in the lab last night," says Julie, "with Owen, actually, and I just had this idea, and it probably only took an hour or two, but it's working. All of the theoretical trials have succeeded in every species, even humans—"
"Two hours?" asks Gwen in complete and total disbelief. She is floored. She still isn't sure if she understands all of this. "You did this in two hours."
Julie's eyes are so wide they look like they will pop out of her skull. "I don't think we're going to get permission to run any real trials for at least a month," she says, as if she is trying to manage Gwen's excitement when clearly she is trying to contain her own.
Gwen nods appreciatively, still scouring through the plans. She can't blame OsCorp for being especially cautious these days—they endured a lot of public scrutiny after Dr. Connors's transformation, not just for their development of an extremely dangerous bioagent but for the thoughtlessness of sticking something as perilous as the Ganali device on top of the roof of a building in the most densely-packed city on the continent. It took almost a year of damage control before they could pick up their abandoned projects, let alone begin new ones. Gwen was lucky to have been assigned to this department, because at least the restrictions weren't as brutal since everything could be tested with computer programs.
At least, it could until now.
Gwen knows that the success of this project will invite a lot of controversy. While OsCorp was upfront about jumpstarting it, Gwen doubts that anyone was counting on them succeeding this soon. Even Gwen can't help her shock. With this kind of technology they could clone virtually any species. They could clone humans. They could likely even grow organs without human hosts.
They could save millions of lives—this is the beginning of something that will change the face of modern medicine, of the lifespan of the average human all over the world. And Gwen is lucky enough to be one of the first witnesses to it.
"Congratulations," says Gwen, turning to Julie, who probably hasn't slept all night but looks as if she could run up a mountain.
"Thanks," says Julie, beaming, "but I couldn't have figured it out without all the research you and Owen have been scouring through—"
"Yeah, yeah," says Gwen cheekily, "I'm sure we were a real help."
It should probably bother her that Owen was there all night to be a part of this when she wasn't, but Gwen certainly will never spend the night in OsCorp, especially if she would be running the risk of being in there alone with Owen again. She feels badly to be relieved that he probably won't be in today, seeing as he stayed up all night, but it's nice to think she'll be able to get some work done without him awkwardly staring at her from across the room.
She sits down and grabs her notebook to start taking notes, barely coming up for air for the next three hours. It's brilliant, it's overwhelming, how everything is changing—the project, Peter, her very outlook on life—it almost scares her, she thinks maybe she has been asleep all this time, because she finally feels like she's waking up.
The next day Gwen meets Mary Jane for a quick breakfast at one of the coffee places near campus. MJ sits and politely listens to Gwen ramble on about the project at OsCorp even though it is glaringly apparent that she has no idea what Gwen is talking about, but Gwen can't stop herself from spilling over the brim with excitement, and almost twenty minutes pass before she even comes up for air.
Mary Jane's eyes are wide. "So this … is kind of a big deal," she says at the end of Gwen's impassioned ramblings.
Gwen beats a hand against the table animatedly. "This is a big deal, an enormous one," says Gwen. "I bet there will be world-renowned scientists visiting our department, I bet the media coverage on this will be international, not to mention all the insane things this research could lead to—"
"Gwen!"
The sound of Owen's voice makes her stomach twist before she even recognizes that it's him. She stops mid-sentence but doesn't turn around, even though it's absurd to pretend that she hasn't heard him.
"Gwen—hey, Gwen."
Gwen sighs.
MJ points a little less-than-subtly behind her. "Uh, that guy's trying to—"
"I know," says Gwen lowly. She forces her expression to stay pleasant, then turns around and says, "Hey, Owen."
Owen's hands are practically shaking. Gwen wonders if he has even slept since he and Julie spent that night at OsCorp. "Did you hear about the project? Oh, of course you did, but isn't it awesome?"
"Yeah," says Gwen, less than enthusiastically. She can sense MJ staring at her from across the table, perturbed by her sudden change of heart. She pointedly doesn't look over at her friend.
"Hi, I'm Mary Jane," says MJ, loudly, extending her hand to shake Owen's.
Owen looks up, with that same bewildered, mouth-wide-open expression that men usually have the first time they meet her effusive friend.
"I'm—I'm Owen."
Gwen cringes. It's not that she minds that MJ is drawing the attention away from her—in fact, she would much rather have Owen pining after MJ and all of her red-headed, navel-exposed glory than pining after her while she's trying to get work done—but now that MJ has put on her friendly A-game face, the odds of Owen leaving any time soon are zilch.
MJ beams at him. "Nice to meet you, Owen. So you work with Gwen?"
"Yeah," he says, his face getting kind of blotchy and red.
"Gwen was just telling me all about your project—why don't you pull up a chair? I'd love to hear more about it."
Gwen tries to suppress a groan, watching her friend go into action. As far as she knows MJ has never cheated on Richard, but that certainly doesn't stop the girl from noticing a prospect when she sees one. She checks the time on her cell phone, wondering how long she has to endure this to seem polite, or if she should just extricate herself now with a flimsy excuse.
She looks up at the television screen, hoping to distract herself. She reads the running script under the reporter, only half paying attention until she sees the word SPIDERMAN in big letters. She squints at the television, wondering what he's gotten himself into now—it isn't even ten o'clock in the morning.
"Earth to Gwen."
Gwen dismisses her friend with a wave, staring at the screen. "I can't hear it," she says.
"What's going on?" asks Owen, following Gwen's fixed gaze to the television.
"It's Spiderman," says MJ, and Gwen doesn't have to look to know that her friend is rolling her eyes. "Gwen is totally obsessed with him."
Gwen doesn't even have the heart to deny it. "It's the middle of the day," she says, mostly to herself.
"You like Spiderman?" says Owen, sounding almost defensive.
Gwen shushes him. She still can't hear anything over the din of people gabbing over their breakfasts. On the television there seems to be a badly-filmed reel of Spiderman chasing after someone, but the person is all in black, incredibly agile, and indistinguishable. Just when it looks as though Spiderman is close to apprehending the man, he turns around, stopping just for a beat, and throws something that emits a thick, fast-growing smog and the image becomes impossible to see.
The video was taken not too far from here, about halfway between campus and OsCorp. Gwen is on her feet before she even realizes she intends to run.
"Hey," says MJ, grabbing her arm. "What are you—"
"The police—they're going to get him," Gwen stammers, "someone has to do something."
Even Owen is looking at her as if she has lost her mind. "Gwen, even if the police do get to him, what are you going to be able to do about it?"
My dad, she almost says, because even after all this time her first impulse is to rely on the one person she knows will always be on her side. She bites back her frustration and embarrassment for reacting like this, for not being able to do anything. She looks up. Spiderman hasn't emerged from the smoke, but there are police cars everywhere, she can see their lights reflecting in the smoke on the screen.
Gwen pulls her arm out of MJ's grasp. "Somebody has to stand up for him," says Gwen. Suddenly she hates this city, this city full of people who don't deserve Peter, full of people who sleep soundly at night under his protection but will only idly stand by and watch as the police try and shoot him down every chance they get.
MJ has always been one to get swept up in the moment. "I'll come with you," she exclaims, already bustling toward the door.
"Uh—"
Gwen can hear Owen behind them, his feet shuffling hesitantly. She doesn't look back to see if he's following them. She tears off into the street. Usually she would assume she and MJ were an even match for each other athletically, and she is the one in flip-flops while MJ is in sneakers, but Gwen immediately leaves MJ in the dust.
"Hey, wait up," MJ calls behind her.
Gwen hears her, but she also hears something louder, something more demanding: the rush of adrenaline that seems to be screaming in her ears, the slap of her sandals on the pavement, the sound of Peter's voice all those years ago, croaking the words, I can't lose you.
He's in trouble now. She feels like she can sense it, the same way Peter claims to be able to sense danger from a mile away.
She hears someone panting next to her. "Where to?" Owen asks.
Gwen stares at him incredulously for a moment, but he's serious. His posture is set and his face looks as determined as if it was all his idea to go crime-chasing in the first place. For once Gwen is grateful for his odd, unwarranted devotion to her. She gasps out the street names and he nods, then takes off with an agility and speed she will never be capable of no matter the circumstances.
She keeps running, darting between pedestrians, cutting corners and darting past cars. She can hear people gasping or yelling at her after she passes but she doesn't care. She never bothers to look back and see if MJ is still following.
It probably takes her less than ten minutes to run to the scene, but it feels like an hour. She knows she's getting close long before she arrives because the smog has dissipated over the entire street. There are huge crowds of people waiting to see what has happened, and a police barricade that they are paying very little attention to. It isn't difficult for Gwen to shove her way forward. She is crazier and far more determined than any of these rubberneckers.
She coughs. The smog is filling her lungs. She pushes forward, jumps the barrier. Immediately she feels someone's arms around her. She turns around, sees an officer that she actually recognizes as one of her father's friends and says, "Let go of me, right now!"
He is too astonished to hold her and she tears forward. She sees two figures in the smoke—one of them is unmistakably Peter, she can tell just by the curve of his spine, by the familiar way he hangs his head. He is staggering. He is hurt. Gwen rushes toward him, hearing the heavy thumps of footsteps behind her, and opens her mouth to scream "don't shoot," but someone beats her to it.
She looks up, her lungs still tearing in their effort to gather clean air, and that's when she finally can see the two of them: Owen is propping up Spiderman with one shoulder and holding up his other arm with a commanding hand in the air.
"Don't shoot!" he yells again.
His eyes flit over to Gwen's and Gwen can't help the horror that seems to wrench all the muscles in her stomach. She can't believe she has done something so stupid, letting this boy get involved in something that is way over his head. He is standing in front of thirty armed men for her. He is literally putting himself in the line of fire on her word alone.
It occurs to her that maybe this is the kind of guilt Peter has had to live with since the day her father died.
"Hold your fire," someone yells.
A shot goes off and Gwen shrieks, whirling around at the noise. It's all happening so fast and by the time she turns around, both of the boys are down on the ground. Gwen can't reach them fast enough, it feels like living in a dream, the kind of dream where she commands her legs to move her but they are suddenly detached and out of her control—it feels like slow motion, it feels like agony, and she can't help but think that no matter which one of them has been shot, it is all her fault.