Author's Note: Betcha thought I was gone, huh? You were kind of right. I've emigrated to AO3 lol (more at the end)
Gwen faces the music
Early morning Blondie was the way to go when your whole life now revolved around making it in and out of school as quickly as possible.
"One way, or another-"
The sweet sound of music pouring down her ears helped her keep her mind off of the tween girl side-eyeing her as Gwen applied a thick layer of foundation, followed by a dusting of blush. Just to, y'know, add some much needed life to her face. Never once in her life had Gwen pictured herself being that girl who does her makeup on the crammed 7am metro, but here she was. Panicking. And in urgent need of some caffeine.
"I'll get'cha, I'll get'cha-"
Was her physics homework done? Not even close. Had she assessed the comments on her DT coursework? Not fucking likely. But had she used up every last drop of time to obsess over her power fantasy? Absolutely: in fact, Gwen didn't regret it one bit. Why? Because in ten years time, what was going to be more important? A life saved, or one projectile motion worksheet left unsolved?
It was only once, after all. Miss Munroe wouldn't mind. Right?
"Aaaa-nd if the lights are all down-"
Sc-r-r-e-e-e-ch.
Everyone lurched forward as the train pulled into Midtown station with a grating squeal. Nothing like some burst eardrums to wake someone up in the morning, just in case the phlegmy bark of the indifferent commuter across from you didn't already. Some invisible magnet drew everyone to cluster around the comically small compartment doors; with Gwen herself slipping into the crowd behind the tween and a clearly under-caffeinated businessman.
"-I'll see who's aro-ound-"
One blink later, and Gwen was scooting past a gaggle of freshmen blocking the sidewalk with their oversized and understuffed rucksacks, dodging a spilled frappuccino for good measure.
"-One way, or another-"
Gwen quickened her already lively pace to overtake a vaguely familiar guy with large headphones and arms full of textbooks.
"-I'm gonna win ya-"
It's not that she particularly wanted to be in school, but a habit was a habit and the only way she was going to go get anything done from now on was by reserving her home desk for Spider-Woman and the school library for panicked homework between lessons.
"-One day, maybe next week-"
Despite the bracing October winds, her turtleneck- winter coat combo was slowly roasting her alive, made all the worse by the fact that she wouldn't dare take anything off.
"-See who's hanging o-out…"
She stomped up the steps to the entrance, overly aware of the heaviness of her breaths as she took out her earbuds and shoved them into her inside pocket. Having already removed her gloves on the way, Gwen pressed her thumb against the scanner and waited a few seconds for the buzz to sound.
The automatic doors glided open, and Gwen was met with eyes.
Eyes everywhere.
Eyes in front of her.
Eyes beside her.
Eyes above her.
Itchy and scalding and strangling and-
The back of her neck suddenly twinged as if she'd severed a nerve.
The pit of her stomach opened up to a bottomless chasm.
Her lungs were not enough.
What'sGoingOnWhat'sGoingOnWhat'sGoingOn
Every muscle in her body pulled taut at once, and Gwen had to fight the urge to cling onto the ceiling. Panic. Panic was consuming her and she didn't know what was happening except for directionless panic and a searing pain on the back of her neck.
Eyes.
WhyWasEveryoneLookingAtHerWhyWasEveryoneLookingAtHerWhyWasEveryoneLookingAtHer
And then the world paused for a second, and righted itself; like it was resolving some weird glitch. Nobody was looking at her - everyone was either buried in their lockers or turned away, chatting with their friends. Nothing had even happened, it was just Gwen standing right in front of the entrance for an uncomfortable amount of time.
"'Scuse me," someone mumbled as they shoved past her. Right. She was in the way. Gwen's head spun as she made her way to her locker, the neck pain lingering like the sharp sting of a paper cut. Just her body adjusting to the bite, nothing she wasn't getting used to-
Gwen flinched again, her tote bag slipping into the crook of her elbow.
Bom bom bom bom!
The irritating jingle of the intercom echoed down the corridor, almost smug at the way it frayed her nerves. She was really fucking done with this level of jumpiness. Why was her body working against her? They were supposed to be on the same team. Gwen let out an exasperated sigh as she scooped up her physics textbook.
The announcement murmured dully in the background.
Agony was dripping down her spine, seeping into her abdomen.
Her periphery constricted to the few strands of untucked hair by her face.
All at once, everything quietened.
The textbook slid right from her hands and landed with a thud on the floor.
"Can Gwendolyn Stacy please make her way to the Principal's Office at once? Thank you."
Principal Morita's office occupied this odd energy, somewhere between a hospital and a public library. The cinder block walls and sleek white desk juxtaposed the overstuffed bookshelves and a large Howling Commandos movie poster hanging directly behind the desk. Gwen could hardly hear a word of Principal Morita's greeting over the buzzing of the lights and her own disembodied breathing. Eventually, he gestured for her to sit, right under the scrutinising glare of Captain America.
Gwen wasn't sure whether the placement was intentional or not, but either way she was not about to ask.
"-been called into my office?"
Her eyes flickered blankly to Morita's tired face, "Sorry?"
He hummed noncommittally, adjusting the angle of his screen, "Do you know why you have been called into my office?"
"Yes, sir."
She rubbed the knuckles on her right hand, where scabs had already formed and withered away. Truth be told, Gwen had been expecting this talk since last Wednesday, but Morita's strange hesitance to call her in had given her this false hope that the Flash incident had been nothing but a bad dream after all. Flash was off for some other reason. The dent in the locker was caused by some kid taking out his rage on a poor, defenceless hunk of metal. The other students weren't actually looking at her, she was just paranoid.
"And that is…?"
"I punched Eugene Thompson in the face." she whispered hoarsely.
"You did. Care to explain why?" Morita grabbed the nearest pen and notepad, gazing at her expectantly.
Gwen trembled in her seat, searching for an answer stashed somewhere in her memories.
But there wasn't one.
"He-"
Not one that was any better than something Flash himself would say.
"I-"
Not one that justified a broken jaw.
"Well-"
Not one befitting the daughter of the NYPD Chief of Police.
"Miss Stacy?" he prompted, "You're a good kid. I know you wouldn't do something like this without due cause." He leaned forward and lowered his voice, "If Flash did something, just tell me and I'll be able to sort it out-"
"No." her mouth moved before she'd even realised it, "Flash didn't do anything exactly, I just- I just couldn't take his teasing anymore and I lost control. I don't-"
Her gaze fell to her lap, "I just- snapped, sir."
Morita swung back in his chair, sighing deeply. For a few agonising seconds of silence, Gwen thought she might be expelled. Worse things had happened to better kids, after all. It's not like she didn't deserve it; if she'd punched him any harder, she could've-
What, Gwen?
Killed him?
Just like that?
And then what?
Jail?
A Trial?
An actual, long prison sentence?
Gwen suddenly and forcefully had the urge to throw up. Oh god. How close had she come-
"Miss Stacy."
"Sir?" she didn't dare look up, in case the tears welling up in her eyes spilled over.
"I'm sure you're wondering why I made the choice not to call you in sooner," he opened a drawer next to him, retrieving a stack of papers, "-and that is because I've had-" he licked his fingers, counting each page, "-exactly twelve separate emails from students with their accounts of what happened."
Gwen's head snapped up, her brows furrowing as Morita tossed the printed-out emails in front of her.
Please do not expel Gwen Stacy.
To
Dear Principal Morita,
I am emailing you because I believe that Gwen Stacy should not be expelled because of the incident at the lockers earlier today. Flash has been picking on people since Freshman Year- including Gwen- and until now has not faced any punishment for it. At lunch, me and many others witnessed him insulting her and winding her up just to get a reaction out of her. I really empathise with Gwen and fully believe that she should not be expelled for snapping in that way, especially after tolerating his abuse for so long. I really hope this email can change your mind as Gwen is one of the smartest people I know and expelling her would completely ruin her chances of getting into college. I understand the gravity of what she did, but at the same time, this wouldn't have happened if you had punished Flash for his continual bullying.
Yours Sincerely,
Miles.
Disbelief pounded in her chest.
The Hallway Incident 10/12 /21
To
Dear Principal Morita,
This email concerns the incident that happened earlier today between Gwen Stacy and Eugene Thompson. While I doubt that my input will make any difference towards her punishment, I hope that this gesture can at least persuade you not to expel her. As a first-hand witness, I can confirm that Eugene was purposefully provoking Gwen by insulting and intimidating her as has been his usual behaviour for the last 3 years. Therefore, I am prepared to defend Gwen's physical retaliation as I believe it is justified given Eugene's torment of her. She is a good friend of mine and an integral member of our band, so I know that she would only act this way under extreme duress. I am aware that the School Board stresses 'Zero Tolerance', but given the lack of attention towards Eugene's cruel behaviour, I feel that Gwen's case should be an exception. You must understand that implementing this kind of double standard sets a dangerous precedent. Thank you for understanding.
Yours Sincerely,
Cythia Moon.
"Now, I'm sure you know that we do not assess situations based on popularity, but I'm going to be honest with you here Miss Stacy - I've never had so many students email me after an incident," he admitted. Gwen slowly flicked through the rest of the sheets, her cheeks flushing at the sheer volume of students willing to come to her defence.
"Seeing as they all broadly make the same points, it has become clear that Mr Thompson's behaviour has been an issue that we as a faculty have unfairly overlooked for the last few years. Something like this was bound to happen eventually."
A Defense of Gwen Stacy
To
Dear Principal Morita,
I strongly believe that the actions Gwen Stacy took during the fight in the natural sciences corridor were justified…
My Account of the Hallway Fight
To
Dear Principal Morita,
Earlier today, I witnessed the fight between Gwen Stacy and Flash Thompson and I would like to use this opportunity to report Flash's constant bullying…
the fight earlier
To
Dear Principal Morita,
I would just like to say that whatever punishment you give Gwen, Flash deserves a thousand times worse…
"And on top of all of this, I have received a very curious email from Mrs Thompson imploring me to spare you from expulsion," he clicked into his emails, reading one aloud to Gwen's surprise.
"I have had the pleasure of coming across Miss Stacy at a few Parent-Teacher Meetings, and given her reserved and considerate attitude, I truly believe that if she has taken the action against my son that he described, Eugene must be the one at fault for provoking her."
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
He turned back to look at her, "Of course, she did condemn your choice to punch him in the face, but with everything I have received as of late, I have come to the conclusion that it would be a disservice to expel you, Miss Stacy."
She wouldn't be surprised if this was a dream after all. Furrowing her eyebrows, Gwen swallowed, "You're not expelling me?"
"Not unless you want me to, of course," Morita chuckled.
"No sir."
"Of course it's not all policy scandal rearing its ugly head, Vice Principal Charles and I just couldn't fathom losing a potential valedictorian to a poorly judged reaction." he slouched into the crook of his swivelling desk chair.
"Between us, we have decided that a month's after school detention, a fine to replace the locker and a reflective essay is more than justified given your actions. By no means take this as a mercy," he lowers his voice, "I expect 5000 words at the minimum." he snickers at his own 'joke', or whatever it is supposed to be.
Gwen, in the meanwhile, had not taken a single breath in the last minute. She had herself utterly convinced from the moment she stepped in here that she would never be coming back. It had been difficult enough believing anyone had come to her defence, but a penalty that light? Gwen was half-tempted to bite back with some sort of remark telling Morita he was going soft. That apparently there was a justification for violence, as long as you caused enough of a stir.
No different from the regular course of criminal justice, then.
"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." the words fell from her mouth, almost like she was grovelling. Hot tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes: the embarrassing remains of a once useful instinct. Maybe Flash was right in calling her pathetic, because that was exactly how she felt right now.
"I'll send an email with the details by the end of today," he nodded towards the door, already preoccupied with something else, "And I hope I don't see you in here again."
"You won't, sir." she mumbled, trying desperately to not blink. Gwen rose shakily from the chair and made a beeline for the door. A single tear rolled down the side of her nose, which she hoped Morita had not seen. Where was the nearest bathroom?
The bell for first period had rung some time ago, judging by the mercifully empty corridor. For once, Gwen had no desire to go to class. Not when her heart was crawling up her throat in some useless attempt at fight or flight. She could already imagine every person in her monday Algebra class taking a pause from their silent calculations to gawk up at her uncharacteristically late entrance. Ned pestering her for details for the rest of the lesson. Betty glancing over at her every couple of minutes. Jason being entirely unsubtle at the back, gossiping to Abe and Charlie about his insane theories.
She'd never skipped before, but there was a first time for everything.
Gwen made for the bathroom, adrenaline-fuelled tears dripping from her face as she pushed open the door and darted into the first open cubicle. The air smelled like sulphur and fish and strawberry scented vape? but none of that mattered because every shallow breath hitched in her throat, staccato and mucusy. Gwen shoved her bag to the floor, her keyrings clattering against the heavily graffitied stall door.
As soon as she was alone, the panic began clawing at her chest.
YouFuckedUpYouFuckedUpYouRuinedYourChancesInCollege.
Gwen had to close the door. Now. She scrabbled for the sliding lock, yanking it shut.
Bang!
The mechanism came off in her shaking hands. The door swung open, smacking into the neighbouring stall and pouring sparks across the linoleum.
ShitShitShit.
Damn it, super-strength. Just another thing she had no control over. Gwen let out a half-sob, half-retch at the mess she had become.
YouRuinedYourRecordYouRuinedYourRecordNobodyWillWantYou.
She sank into an undignified crouch between the toilet and the wall, not in the mood for giving a shit about germs. Her bag slumped, spilling its contents all over the floor.
WhatWillHerFatherSayWhatWillHeSayHeWillBeDisappointedInYou.
But at least she hadn't been expelled. There was that much.
WhatIfTheSchoolBoardForcesHimTo?
WhatIfMrsThompsonPressesCharges?
WhatIfShe'sCalledToTrial?
Gwen squeezed her eyes closed, green squares of the harsh LEDs lingering in the nothingness. Hot tears slid down her arms as she covered her face with her hands.
WhatIf-
"Uh, y'alright in there?" asked a concerned voice, "Oh my god, Gwen!"
Footsteps rushed towards where Gwen was squatting. The overly-sweet scent of vape washed over her. Quickly, she tried to wipe away the mucus streaming from her nose.
"What- what happened? Did somebody hurt you?"
"N-No." Gwen murmured, sniffling. She drew in a deep breath that was unfortunately mostly vape, trying to gain some sort of composure.
YouHurtSomeoneYouHurtSomeoneYouHurtSomeone-
"Gwen, Gwen. Look at me. Okay? Just-" she shoved a tissue into Gwen's hands, patting her reassuringly on her shoulder.
Overwhelming cringe surged through Gwen as she recognised Liz Allen's high pitched voice attempting to console her. Felicia would certainly hold this over her head later.
"M'fine, Liz. Don't- Don't worry about it."
"Um, no. It's not fine. You're skiving, cryin' on the floor." Liz sternly pointed out.
"I said I'm fine! Leave me alone. You should be in class too." She bit back, shaking Liz' hand off her. There was no doubt in her mind that Liz was only doing this to convince herself she was a good person.
Liz retracted her hand, gasping dramatically, "Is- is this about Flash?"
"I-"
"You got called into Morita's office didn't you?"
"Liz-"
"Oh fu-uuck," she breathed, "You got kicked out?"
"No. No. Liz-"
For one brief moment, Liz' gaze flickered to the locking mechanism clutched in Gwen's grip. Her brows furrowed, a glimmer of confusion in her eyes. Before she could comment, Gwen cut her off, "Liz!" she snapped.
"I don't know how or- or why, but I haven't been expelled. Now please, just-" she trailed off, a slight tremble in her voice.
"Morita actually fuckin' listened to my email?" Liz murmured.
"Your email?" Gwen looked back at Liz, who had pulled her phone out and was scrolling through her emails.
"Yeah, I-" The other girl triumphantly tapped the screen, handing her phone to Gwen.
"Dear Principal Morita, I'm sure you have heard about the fight between Gwen Stacy and Flash Thompson earlier today, and I just want to say that what she did is entirely justifiable-" she read in broken disbelief.
"Wait, you emailed Morita defending me?!"
"Yeah. I was there, Gwen. I hate that dick just as much as you." Liz retorted, "God am I glad he's outta here for the next few weeks."
"-you, though?"
"Yes, Stacy. Me. I might not talk to you, but that doesn't mean I won't defend your stupid ass." she snatched the phone back from Gwen's trembling hands.
"Oh. Um. Thank you?"
"You're welcome, Stacy. Just- stay outta trouble next time, yeah? I don't wanna have to email Morita again."
Br-r-r-i-i-i-i-n-g.
Liz smirked, stuffing her vape deep in her pocket jacket, "Better be off. Wouldn't want to be missin' class now would I? See you around, Gwen." she grabbed her purse off the hook of the stall opposite and flounced out of the bathroom.
"Yeah, see you Liz-"
Once again, Gwen was left practically alone somewhere she shouldn't be. Her thoughts had quit screaming at her, for now at least. All there was left was the sound of her juddery breaths, the buzzing of the lights and the signature stink of a high-school toilet. An odd feeling rose in her stomach. Lifting some of the guilt off her shoulders. Clearing her mind. Gwen wouldn't call it pride, but she wouldn't deny that either. It's just-
If someone like Liz- who barely interacted with Gwen aside from throwing a few snide looks her way- was willing to back her up; then she must be doing something right. Clearly she wasn't about to defend impulsive acts of violence, but if not that, then what was it that inspired so many responses?
Surely they didn't all really care about Gwen and her future. Not all of them had it out for Flash that much, or they would have gotten to him first. Obviously none of them would justify breaking someone's jaw in any other context (actually, Gwen wasn't so sure about McKeever, but everyone else was pretty anti-broken faces).
Then what?
What exactly had Gwen done to deserve this?
YouHadNoControlOverYourPowersYouDidn'tMeanToHurtHimThatBadly.
It'sHisFaultHeChoseThatDayToPickOnYou.
EveryoneStoodUpForYou.
(EveryoneExceptForPeter.)As she sat against the grubby wall, listening to freshmen run through the corridors to Period 2, Gwen finally had to resign herself to one simple fact. She'd taken Flash down a peg. She'd dealt with those muggers. And people were thankful for it.
Electricity crackled down the back of her neck.
She could make a real difference here.
Author's Note: Holy fucking shit, I uploaded a chapter? I'm just as surprised as you are. I suddenly just had the motivation to finish this chapter a few days ago and have been writing furiously ever since (damn, go me!). So yeah, here it is. 8 months of work. You can tell, can't you(?)
This chapter's an interesting one. On the surface, it's got fuck all to do with Spiderwoman stuff, but underneath, it's still got fuck all to do with Spiderwoman stuff. I joke. It's an attempt (emphasis on attempt) at power and responsibility. Gwen, whether she liked it or not, used her powers irresponsibly and is now facing the consequences (which, let's be honest here, are extremely lenient). At the same time, she also gets to learn that her powers can have a huge impact on people. and that whatever she chooses to do with them will either cause damage or help others (or both at the same time). In other words, we're getting there, folks!
You may also recall my promise to talk about my move to AO3 at the top there. If you're expecting some grand monologue about preferences and morals and techno-cultural nuances, um, why? It's really not that deep, I just like their tagging system better, plus there's a bunch of really good stuff on there. My account over there is called levitatinglemmings (I'll put a link in my bio if ffn lets me). This is the only fic on there at the moment, but if you look the author's note on this same chapter, you'll find some more details on my misadventures between uploads (and my reckless ambitions, I suppose). That's right readers. I'm sending you on a scavenger hunt! Have fun, and a wonderful day, night, week, month and year wherever you are :)
TL;DR- Gwen Stacy is way more relatable than she ought to be. Except I haven't got the excuse of having brutally maimed someone for feeling guilty.