You guys are such heroes for waiting this out. The next probably won't be as long away, but I can't make promises because I am lame and busy.
Gwen narrowed her eyes and shredded her only sticky note as she watched Peter and Director Fury argue in the next room over.
She found she was exceedingly glad that the wall there was made of glass. That way, she caught every single one of Peter's expressions; she could manage to mouth-read a few of his words and had full view of Fury, so if he did anything to Peter, she would know immediately.
And she would not be happy about it.
As Gwen ground the now-shredded paper into tiny balls of compacted anxiety and anger, she stared stonily through the glass at Peter.
He went pale at something the director said, and was obstinately not meeting anyone's eye.
Well, that obviously wasn't very good.
Gwen gauged Fury's expression.
Angry was an expression that looked quite natural for him; that and annoyed resignation. The vibe she was getting was somewhere between those two.
However, there was a tinge of psychotic in there, which didn't exactly do anything to make her feel more comfortable that her badly-injured boyfriend (admittedly gifted with superpowers) was stuck in a room with a much taller man who likely could deal with superheroes in his sleep with his smallest finger.
Oh, now he was flinching.
Fury made a hand gesture that Gwen didn't quite see.
Another flinch.
Blanching.
Shit, Gwen thought. What was it her older brother had said about threats? He was a budding lawyer, she was absolutely positive that he'd told her something about how illegal it was to threaten someone.
"That 'shit' was aloud," Tony Stark remarked casually, glancing up for a second from his phone. "Just if you wanted to know. Don't swear around the popsicle though, he might scrub out your mouth with soap."
"I'd never do that," Steve Rogers said immediately, banishing Stark back to the screen of his phone with a glare. "I grew up in Brooklyn. I'm used to it. I lived next to a family of Australian immigrants. I'm used to it, I tell you."
"Mm… no. Old man," Stark replied cheerfully.
Gwen tuned herself out as Captain Rogers opened his mouth for a retort, turning her attention back to Peter with faint smile on her mouth.
That smile disappeared painfully quickly.
Peter nodded thickly, and then Fury returned to them.
"Now that Parker's agreed to help us find Spider-Man," Fury began, Peter trailing in behind palely, "I can get to the point."
Gwen saw Peter frown, a fractional depression between his eyebrows. But thankfully, the others were focused on what Director Fury was saying.
"Stark, I'm not even going to begin talking about the security measures at the Stark Tower-"
"They're state of the art," Stark said defensively. "Nothing should have been-"
"I'm not saying they weren't, Stark," Fury interjected. "I am aware that they are exceptional. Mostly because I have assurances from Ms. Potts and your AI J.A.R.V.I.S."
"Oh."
"But this- goblin- was still able to get crash through your building and throw an occupant out the window. Do you understand why I am concerned?"
"Yes," Rogers put in. "If a building with such extensive security can be forcefully entered, what about buildings with far less security? Banks, and minor government outposts."
"Correct," Fury said. "Stacy and Parker, I'm sure you're wondering why you're still here."
Gwen exchanged a look with Peter. "About Spider-Man?" she suggested.
"No. I can see that you two will determinedly stay involved in this affair. Stacy, you are one of our only civilian witnesses, and I get the feeling you're too stubborn to back out anyway."
Gwen shrugged. "Probably true, sir. I also work as a biologist. The goblin seems to be genetically enhanced. Maybe if we get some DNA, an antidote can be manufactured, like with Dr. Connors."
"I hope so," Fury agreed. "But you two also have a right to know the dangers of fighting this creature."
Rogers looked uncomfortably at the two teenagers.
"This was not the first attack on a larger facility. There was one other, around a month ago in New Jersey. It was hushed up, we couldn't afford a panic. It was a hospital building, and although fortunately most of the patients and staff were evacuated, there was one casualty. A sixteen-year-old girl, Kamala Khan. Her body hasn't even been found."
Gwen felt slightly sick. She remembered flicking through a newspaper, bored, around that time ago, skipping over the obituaries. Was Kamala's name in there? She vowed to find the paper online, and read about the girl, if only for respect for the dead girl.
"The goblin, or whatever the hell he calls himself, does not care who is injured. He threw you out a window because you were in the way. He killed a teenager because she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You must understand the seriousness of the situation."
"We do, sir," Peter said. "Well, I do. Gwen has to decide if she wants to stay for herself, I guess."
Gwen found herself nodding. "I'm staying involved. There can't be any more casualties. If there's even the slightest chance I can help stop him, I'll do it."
Fury looked impressed.
"I don't doubt your commitment," he said, looking doubtful, "but you're required to sign contracts and agreements pledging your silence on these matters to civilians, and breaking these contracts will result in your incarceration on any S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Do I make myself clear?"
Peter and Gwen nodded.
Stark, in the background, said disgustedly, "You didn't need is here for that!"
Fury's head whipped around to glare at Tony Stark. "You're here," he said, glowering at Stark and Rogers, who was looking very serious, "to be informed that one of your priorities is making sure that no harm comes to these two."
"I'll do my very best to see no harm come to them," Rogers swore immediately. "Spider-Man as well." He eyed Fury darkly. "I still don't understand why you had to lie and say he was a threat."
Gwen smiled faintly. Although she disliked his part in Peter's initial capture, he seemed to honestly regret that part he played. She wouldn't immediately forgive him, of course, but further exposure to the old captain would surely improve her perspective of him.
Peter looked a fair bit happier as well.
Well, it was proof, or evidence, at least, that another of his heroes regretted their actions. Stark had already made it clear in Peter's weeks of employment, and now that Rogers had…
"Rogers, that conversation was over weeks ago," Fury said wearily.
"And if you had been honest, that conversation would not have been needed," Rogers replied stiffly.
"Excuse me," Gwen interjected, stopping the two soldiers mid-argument, "but is that all? Our families will be worried, and we'd like to go back home."
The two seemed to forcibly calm themselves, and Peter and Gwen were dismissed.
"I'm dropping you off," Gwen insisted as they walked together- or rather, she walked slowly and he tried to limp quickly. "You're injured, and I've called my mom. Your phone, if you remember, is splintered on the floor of Stark's lab. You think my apartment's walking distance from here?"
Peter rolled his eyes, but he couldn't actually disagree. He made a valiant attempt though, which Gwen shut down as quick as possible.
Which wasn't as quickly as she'd hoped, by the time they'd finished bickering they were outside his house in Queens.
"I can just drop in, and then you walk you to-"
"Walk me where? I'm getting a taxi, Peter, shut up."
With that she pulled him to the door, kissed him, and walked away.
"I'll see you, bug-boy," she called behind her, "go stew on the sofa and watch Star Wars or something."
She listened as his front door was wrenched open, and the soft oof as Aunt May tackled him in a hug.
Once at home, after wading through frantic mothers and little brothers, Gwen barricaded herself into the safety of her room, sighed deeply, and flipped open her laptop.
"'Kamala Khan'," she repeated to herself softly as the loading bar trickled full almost painfully slowly. "'Kamala.'"
The loading bar was only half-full, and Gwen cursed laptops and how notoriously dodgy they were, and instead grabbed her phone as it binged with a message.
Hi
Wonderfully articulate, Peter, she thought with a smile.
I told u to sit on the couch like a good little sick boy and watch star wars
She replied quickly, chancing another look at her laptop. The bar edged fractionally closer to 100%. Sigh.
Bing.
i am
She sent back,
which one? what happened?
She could almost feel him coming up with a sly reply.
Bing.
U know if anakin hadnt fucked up theyd have all been happy
Another bing.
padme's dead now
Bing.
u like watching ewan mcgregor cry right u bawled thru the impossible
Bing.
oh look luke and leia are separated now and obiwans in exile this is great
Gwen stared at her phone, enraged, as Peter documented the rest of the tragic ending of her favourite movie ever, and quickly sent back:
HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME READ THIS WITH MY OWN TWO EYES YOU MONSTER
I AM NOT TALKING TO YOU GOODBYE MISTER
Then she added,
I know for a fact u cry when aslan dies in narnia shut up
She imagined Peter cackling on his couch, then putting on the old BBC Narnia and crying, and she switched her phone off and focused on her newly loaded home screen.
It was almost painfully easy to Google 'kamala khan', as if the poor girl was just some word rather that a living, breathing person who'd been alive just over a month ago.
The results were meagre, nothing really about her death, just a simple obituary stating her death, and a small Islamic prayer.
What she did find, was that Kamala had been an avid fan of the Avengers. She'd been the admin or co-admin of several fansites, she'd written fanfiction, and her twitter was just filled with adoration for superheroes.
Poor girl.
Her heroes hadn't saved her.
Gwen laid back on her bed, and felt awful.
Seriously you guys are so great and patient I love y'all.