THE STORM WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO KILL. The thunder was booming so loud that it wouldn't be a stretch to say that Thor was having an incredibly rough day, and the lightning seemed to be stabbing into the ground, searching for anyone to help ease the tension. The wind was strong enough to knock over completely filled trash bins and the rain made it impossible to see, soaking anyone to the bone just by simply stepping outside. It was too dangerous to be going out.

That was exactly why Spider-Man was heading home, having gone out on his usual routine when it was just barely getting dark. It was much too late for him to be going out usually, but there had been home invasions occurring later into the night and like it or not, his aunt couldn't forbid him from keeping people safe. Especially since she wasn't there.

"Karen, remind me to ask Mr. Stark if he knows why Thor is so mad," he said, shivering as he continued along, "And can you turn on the heaters, I'm freezing out here."

"Sure, Peter, but first, do you want me to call him?" she asked, because she was Karen and, as a computer, she always tried to pick the smartest choice, but while he was highly intelligent, that didn't mean he wasn't dumb.

"No, 'cause what if he tells me not to go patrolling in the rain, then he's not gonna let me go out when the weather's bad, it's better he doesn't know, no one's reported on me yet I don't think," he explained, huffing as he shivered, making a sharp right since it was more fun when he went swinging, even though it was pretty slippery now, "And can you turn on the heaters now, I'm dying out here."

"Sure, Peter, sorry," Karen said, and he tried to tell her that it was alright, but then the heaters turned on.

He was never used to the heaters, he hadn't gone out in the rain often since he usually went right after school when it was at least a little lighter than pitch black night and he usually just did as much as he could before waiting it out, heading home was a completely different story.

Which was why, when hit with the heaters, he was momentarily shocked, his senses trying to dial in, which caused him to miss his mark when shooting another one of his webs, which caused him to fly right into a fire escape, only just barely able to angle himself so he could push off it, but because of the slickness of the metal, he wasn't able to grab onto anything else, falling into the alley behind the building.

"You're alright, Peter," Karen said as he groaned, his head spinning, "The dumpster caught your fall and your head is fine."

"Thanks, Karen," he groaned, coughing as he tried a few times to climb out of the dumpster, slipping and nearly falling face first onto the edge, just barely catching himself, "See? It's a good thing you didn't call Mr. Stark."

He sighed as he fell out of the dumpster, shouting as he slipped on the ground, the side of his head hitting the ground painfully as his arms pinwheeled to try and break his fall, and he sighed, letting his eyes slip closed for a moment just so he could wonder why the world was so cruel to him.

But it was when he opened his eyes that he would soon realize that it was a good thing that he had fallen.

He shouted when he caught sight of a masked figure lying on the ground, unconscious and sprawled against the trash, and  stomach lurched at the thought that they were possibly dead and he felt himself quickly growing sick.

"Peter, they're alive," Karen said quickly, displaying heat signatures and scans of the figure, "They're just unconscious, but there's no significant head trauma. It's like they just fell asleep."

"Thanks, Karen," Peter breathed, immediately darting forward and pulling the person out of the trash and into his arms. He didn't trust to leave the alley, not yet, but he wanted to go somewhere with more light.

As he made the careful trek over, not wanting to slip and injure both of them, he soon realized that the masked figure was in a suit just like his. He thought, possibly, that Tony had built another suit for someone, but the material was different, but still high quality. 

The mask was pure white with nothing but eye holes, same as his, but with hot pink lining on the outside, and there was a hood hanging off the rest of the suit which transitioned from white to black, hot pink lining the inside of the hood and the inside of the arms with, surprisingly, blue spiderwebs.

"Is this, what, some kind of fan?" he asked, and he wasn't sure whether to feel flattered at the prospect or terrified at the thought that, perhaps, he had caused this.

Or, maybe, there was someone else who had been bitten just like him.

Setting them down gently, he reached out to remove the person's mask, only to falter. If he had passed out, he wouldn't want anyone to take his mask off, it would've been his nightmare come true. But then he remembered that he felt them with the trash and there was no stopping it, he had to make sure that they were okay, at least try to help them breathe if the mask wasn't as breathable as his own was.

So, with his guilt lying just beneath the surface of his insistence for the greater good, he tugged off the person's mask, and it was a good thing he had set them down because, if he hadn't, he would have for sure dropped them.

His shout rang through the city block, drowned out by the rain, as he scrambled away from the body, colliding roughly with the wall, but he hardly registered any of that as he gaped down at a face he hadn't seen since before the casket was closed and lowered into the ground.

It was Gwen Stacy.

º º º

He didn't know what to think as he put the mask back on her and swung all the way back to Queens. He couldn't even remember what had happened the rest of the way, only knowing that his hold on her had to be loosened multiple times to keep from suffocating her or breaking her bones, and he could barely even remember Karen telling him that because there was absolutely no way this was real.

There was no way this was happening.

He climbed into his room, hardly caring as he hit his head and nearly tripped, only caring about getting her inside and onto the floor. He ripped off his mask, taking deep breaths as he raised his hands up to tangle in his hair, unsure whether to cry or scream or both, ready to pass out from how much he didn't understand.

"You're supposed to be dead," he whispered, crouching down so his face was mere inches from hers, tugging off her mask so he could look at her from the lights in his room, "You're not supposed to be here."

She was still passed out, not responding, and Peter felt himself shake as his throat closed and tears welled up in his eyes as he hovered over Gwen's body, the exact same way he had before, but this time she was alive, and it didn't make sense, he had watched her body be lowered into the ground, he had held her right after she died, it didn't make sense.

He was so close to holding her, but he knew it wasn't right. He knew it wasn't right to take off her clothes to change her into something dry and warm so she wouldn't wake up sick and uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn't have, so he pulled on his mask and asked Karen what he should do.

"We should call Mr. Stark," she said, and he shook his head furiously.

"No, he can't know about this, not until I figure out what's going on," he said, his voice breaking at the end as he started to cry, shaking heavily as he stared down at her from where he was standing, "Karen, should I change her into some dry clothes, I-I don't want her getting sick, she—she always used to say that I shouldn't be running around with wet hair, but she's soaking and she wouldn't like it—"

He broke down then, sobbing openly as he sank to his knees, falling back and curling in on himself as he stared at her, "What is happening?"

"I don't know, Peter, but you should probably change her into some dry clothes so she won't get sick, you're right, it won't be good if she stays in those longer than she already has," Karen said, and he sobbed, feeling his stomach lurch.

"She's not awake, I don't have permission, I don't—" he took a deep breath, "Would this be a time when it's okay that I don't ask, 'cause she was always big on making sure people were equal and she was always going on about women's rights and—"

"Peter," Karen said softly, "I don't have the answer to that, but you found her unconscious in a pile of trash in a dark alley in the pouring rain. Do you think this is an extreme circumstance?"

Peter sighed. "She's supposed to be dead. I'm pretty sure this is impossible."

Karen didn't say anything then; it was clear Peter had made up his mind. He sighed as he tugged off the mask and made his way towards his closet, grabbing his favorite sweater and sweatpants; if he was going to do this, he would at least give her his best clothes.

He winced as he reached out, searching at the back of her suit where there was most likely a zipper of some kind, finding it finally and closing his eyes as he lowered it, feeling the suit loosen as he did. Only opening his eyes for a brief moment to make sure he was holding on to the right part of the suit, he screwed his eyes shut and peeled it off her, feeling his face warm when he bundled it into a ball and threw it into the corner where he usually put his own suit, going cross eyed from how much blood was rushing to his face at the sight of her only in her underwear.

"I'm sorry, you know I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to..." he whined, huffing as he reached over and guided her into the sweater and sweatpants, lifting her up and onto his lower bunk bed, pulling the blankets around her and fluffing the pillows, "Okay, you just...just stay there."

He sighed as he made his way to the bathroom, peeling off his suit and adding it into the same pile where hers was, jumping into the shower and trying to scrub off as much of the grime from the dumpster as he could, still feeling it on his skin despite having been wearing the suit when he fell in.

He hoped she wouldn't wake up to the feeling in the morning, but he knew he would have to wash his sheets and both their suits once he had the chance. 

Her suit. He scoffed as he held his head under the stream of water. Gwen was just the girl who wanted to change the world with her work ethic and six-inch heels, there wasn't any reason at all for her to be in a suit like that.

There wasn't any reason she should be out of the ground.

He hardly registered turning off the water and toweling off, only coming to when he was dressed in his pajamas and climbing to the top bunk, burrowing under his covers despite the summer, shivering for reasons other than the cold, falling into a too light sleep.

º º º

Gwen didn't know where she was.

She woke with a start, looking around as she clutched the blankets around her, feeling as if she had just slept in a dumpster for most of the night, and she smelled just as much too. Or, perhaps, it was the room she was in, wrapped in a blanket that wasn't hers, nearly hitting her head against the bottom of the bunk bed she had never been in because no one she knew had a bunk bed.

She looked around, taking in the posters and LEGO figurines, and was about to make a break for the door when she felt a pair of eyes on her, her senses screaming at her and she whirled around to look to her right, screaming when she saw the boy staring at her.

Peter Parker.

"It's okay, it's okay!" Peter cried, but he didn't look right, he wasn't wearing his glasses and his hair was shorter in the back and more gelled on the front, but it was him, and he shouldn't be there, "Calm down, it's okay!"

"No, who the hell are you?" she demanded, trying to escape, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned her down, which only made her struggle more.

"My name is Peter Parker, you're supposed to be dead!" he cried, staring down at her now opened eyes, "What's your name, because there's no way you should be alive."

"I ain't telling you that!" she cried, ripping away from him, but she didn't try to run, instead just pressing herself up against the wall, staring at him as she curled into a ball, her heart racing, "You sure you're Peter Parker?"

"Yeah," he breathed, "My name's Peter Benjamin Parker, I'm gonna be a senior at Midtown Tech. I live in an apartment with my aunt in Queens."

"What-what about your uncle?" she breathed, quivering like a leaf despite how much she wished she could be strong, "Where's-where's Ben?"

Peter let out a shaky breath, shuddering as he did. "He died in my freshman year."

Gwen choked, shaking her head as she raised a hand to her mouth. "No. No, you're not my Peter, you're not—My Peter is supposed to be dead, he died he—"

"Yeah, well, you're here and my Gwen died earlier this year," he snapped, and he didn't mean to, she could see he didn't because he was now ducking his head and turning red with his shoulders up to his ears the way he—the way her Peter—did.

She just stared at him, shaking her head. "There's gotta be some mistake, I—I'm not dead."

"Yeah," Peter sighed, reaching out to grab one of his pictures, handing it to her, "I can see that."

She took the picture from him, staring down at it in wonder. The girl was her, she looked exactly like all of Gwen's pictures. But the only thing they had in common was their hair, their face, and the blonde headband they both sported. The Gwen in the picture wore plaid skirts and high heels. She didn't wear things like that.

She raised her head up to look at him, really taking him in. He looked just like her Peter, all he needed was the longer hair and the glasses and, from what she had seen when his sweater rode up, to regress from being so built. Her Peter was too weak and he hated himself for it.

She felt tears well up in her eyes as she looked at him, because he looked so much like him. He was in. She hated crying, but she couldn't help herself, and now he was crying, and the both of them were just staring at each other and crying.

"You're not my Peter," she breathed, her voice breaking halfway through, "You're not him."

He sighed, looking at her, utterly defeated. "You're not my Gwen."

She looked around at the room, feeling herself shake despite the warmth in the room. "Where am I?"

Peter sighed, his shoulders slumping as he just looked at her. "I don't know."

But they would find out.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 12.06.18 )

It's been a hot minute, ya'll, but I'm back and we have actual chapters planned out which means we're going strong! Besides, with Into the Spider-Verse coming out, I want to be ahead of the game with this fic before anyone starts to get any ideas (I'm incredibly petty)

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!