This night was long.
When Kingpin's lair got ripped up from the ground, it actually wasn't even eight o'clock yet. Modern city nightlife hadn't really started. The breaking-news alerts were blasting on TV, and people far from the scene didn't even have time to get scared before they realized it was already over.
Kingpin's lair held a massive stockpile of evidence—enough to flip New York's underworld upside down. And for the politicians and business leaders who'd been in bed with the mob, their dirt was stored in a sealed archive room too. Any NYPD officer who searched the place could stumble into "surprises" in minutes.
Gwen's father realized immediately that those files couldn't be allowed to leak outside, so he demanded the building be locked down and reporters kept out.
If he handled this correctly, his career would skyrocket. But Captain Stacy would rather not have the opportunity at all. What he truly wanted was to throw every scrap of rot into the sunlight. Then he saw the joy on his daughter's face—safe, alive—and he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Gwen, go home first. I'll have a patrol car take you."
"Dad… this place is horrible." Gwen tried to sound brave. "Will you arrest all the bad guys?"
She laughed at herself right after she said it, then shook her head, eyes shining with worry. "No. Dad… be careful."
She wasn't a kid anymore. She knew her father couldn't magically embody justice and punish evil. He was only a man—doing his best to protect the vulnerable in a messy world.
Under the pulsing wash of siren lights, father and daughter hugged. Gwen heard a distress call crackle from the radio on her father's shoulder: an officer inside the building had been attacked.
"Go home, Gwen," Captain Stacy said, pulling back. "I'll handle it."
He keyed his radio and asked for details. The downed officer reported they'd been taken out by a man and a woman—too fast to fight back.
"Did you get a look at them?" Captain Stacy asked.
"No, sir. They moved like ghosts."
A Quinjet screamed in, dropping onto the roof. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had flown it personally. He picked up his two agents and lifted off.
Captain Stacy reached the roof just in time to watch them disappear into the night. He could only slap a hand to his forehead in frustration.
Gwen rode home in a police car. She'd lived through a day that felt like a roller coaster strapped to a lightning bolt. Her mother held her and cried for half an hour, then firmly demanded Gwen stay home on leave.
"Until I'm sure you're safe," her mother insisted. "Okay, sweetheart?"
Gwen thought her mom was overreacting—then again, how could anyone imagine what she'd actually been through? Gwen excitedly tried to describe everything she'd seen, and for a while her mother treated it like a nervous breakdown.
"Fine. If you don't believe me, whatever." Gwen took a hot shower, crawled into bed, and turned off the lights—then started trembling all over. If Skyl hadn't appeared, if the Spider-Men hadn't dropped in like a miracle, the outcome would've been a coin toss between death and something worse.
She didn't sleep that night.
Sometime after midnight, as she tossed and turned, she heard the fire escape outside her window tremble slightly, like a bird had landed on it. Gwen went to the window, but only saw the thin curve of the moon.
For the next two days, her mother ordered her to stay home—no exceptions. Gwen could only follow the world through TV and the internet. A classmate called and told her the school had a new transfer student, placed in their class. Gwen didn't think much of it. She just wanted her life to feel normal again.
The news stayed strangely calm. Every outlet acted like they'd silently agreed to downplay the incident at Kingpin's building. Gwen guessed someone powerful didn't want the truth escaping. Her father didn't come home for days. When he called, it was mostly to reassure her—though his words carried hints of good news he couldn't quite say out loud.
Three days later, things finally settled into a temporary "after." Captain Stacy received a public safety hero medal for outstanding performance, along with several veteran detectives. Gwen's mother attended the ceremony, and when she came home she finally exhaled, loosening her grip enough to let Gwen return to school.
Gwen crossed the lawn on her first day back and noticed a tall boy raising a camera at her.
"Hi?" She lifted her shoulders. "Are you taking pictures of me?"
"Yeah—uh, sorry." The boy smiled shyly and offered his hand. "Peter Parker. You're Gwen Stacy, right?"
"You know me?"
"I do." Peter looked dazed—like he couldn't believe she was standing in front of him—and then the happiness spilled out of him all at once. "I know you because you're… kind of amazing. I've only been here a little while, but I heard about you."
"You're the transfer student?" Gwen blinked at the coincidence. "Are you settling in okay? Want me to show you around?"
"No—uh, I mean… that'd be great."
Gwen guided Peter through campus, introducing every building and club like she had the place memorized. Peter barely listened. He just kept staring at her face, like every tiny expression was something he'd known for years.
"Sorry?" Gwen finished explaining the main building and finally couldn't help asking, "Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Oh—yeah, of course." Peter immediately pointed things out: where the faculty offices were, where the activity rooms were, what led where—exactly right.
"I didn't even explain the activity rooms yet." Gwen felt that strange familiarity sharpening into something obvious. That panicked, helpless energy around her—she'd only felt it from one person before. "You're Spider-Man, aren't you?"
"What? No. What Spider-Man? I'm not—" Peter denied it instantly, then crumbled under her look. "Okay. You got me."
Gwen grabbed his hand, delight bubbling up like she'd just found an old friend. "But didn't you leave already?"
"I was going to, but Skyl told me that if I learn portals, I can travel back and forth…" He flinched. "Sorry."
"Why are you apologizing? That's great." Gwen tilted her head, smiling. "I mean—did you come back to see me?"
Peter looked at Gwen, but what flashed through his mind was another Gwen—falling.
Two faces overlapped. And the clearest truth in the world struck him again.
His Gwen was dead.
If he fell in love with the girl in front of him, it would feel like betraying the Gwen who died.
Somewhere else, she had to be lonely.
"What's wrong?" Gwen's smile faded. "You look terrible all of a sudden."
"Sorry." Peter gently let go of her hand, then sprinted away, leaving Gwen standing there in a stunned daze.
That day, the food truck was still open for business.
The big-eater girl, Gali, was back behind the counter, happily inhaling food with a grin. The customers loved her—pretty, bright, and weirdly cheerful in a way that made people want to smile back.
Near the truck's usual spot, customers had set out tables and chairs for anyone who wanted to eat right there.
Peter sat at one of the tables. Sharing the spot with him was a red-haired woman, slowly eating a plate of spaghetti marinara. Peter recognized her: the agent who'd shown up at the Hell's Kitchen building that night. Great hands, even better composure.
Peter had assumed she might be one of Kingpin's people—waiting for revenge—so he stayed cautious.
The two of them lingered, taking their time and refusing to leave, right up until closing.
Skyl walked over. "Peter. You looking for me?"
Peter flicked his eyes toward the red-haired woman, warning Skyl without words.
The red-haired woman smiled and waved at Skyl like they were friends.
"Hello, Agent."
"Nick was right," Black Widow said, resting her cheek on her hand with a calm smile. "You really do know who I am. I came to give you a heads-up: Kingpin has called together the leaders of New York's four biggest gangs. Looks like he's planning something."
"Rats," Skyl said with a lazy wave. "Nothing to worry about. You can go."
"Don't cause another spectacle, sweetheart." Natasha stood and waved. "I'm begging you. See you around."
After she'd gone far enough away, Peter got straight to the point.
"I saw Gwen. But I can't erase the image of her dying in front of me. I can't betray my Gwen—and it isn't fair to this world's Gwen either. She's not anyone's replacement. I can't do that."
"So what do you want?" Skyl frowned slightly, then his expression shifted as a thought connected. "You want to bring your Gwen back? That's not a small problem." He paused. "But… there is a way. Come on. Let's go back. We'll rewind the timeline."
Peter stared. "What does that mean?"
"It means you get to love someone—openly, boldly, without fear."
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