chapter thirty:
❛ gwen stacy is spider-woman ❜

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The weight of the moment settled heavily on Gwen Stacy's shoulders as she stood in front of the gathering of reporters. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she refused to let it show. The bright flashes of cameras were blinding, and the voices of the crowd grew louder, a buzzing mass of questions she'd never asked for. But she knew there was no turning back now. This was her truth, and the world was going to know it.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened up, her stance growing taller, more resolute. She could feel the stares of the crowd bearing down on her like a thousand eyes trying to pierce through her, to tear down the walls she'd spent so long building. But she wouldn't let them. She couldn't.

"I am Gwendolyn Stacy," she announced, her voice loud, clear, and defiant. She didn't care if her words trembled slightly, or if the weight of the moment pressed down harder than she expected. "And I am Spider-Woman."

For a moment, there was a stunned silence. Then the chaos erupted.

The reporters exploded into a frenzy, microphones thrust forward, cameras flashing blindingly, their voices overlapping as they shouted questions, eager to get her response.

"Miss Stacy, what do you mean by Spider-Woman? Is this some kind of joke?" one reporter asked.

"Did you help Peter Parker during the Mysterio incident?" another voice called out.

"Are you the reason Mysterio is dead?" someone else demanded.

The barrage of questions came from every direction, each one more accusing than the last. Gwen's head swam, and for a moment, the noise overwhelmed her. But she held her ground, knowing that her decision was the right one.

She'd expected the questions, but nothing could prepare her for the way they felt. The scrutiny, the judgment, it all crashed down on her. They wanted answers. They wanted her to explain things they didn't understand, couldn't possibly understand.

But she didn't care.

She wasn't going to hide anymore.

"I'm not hiding," Gwen muttered under her breath, but just loud enough for Peter Parker-Spider-Man-to hear, if he was close enough. He was.

Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen saw something move quickly-a web-slinging blur-and before she could react, she felt the familiar tug of a webbing latch onto her. It pulled her backward, causing her to stagger, but she didn't have time to steady herself before a figure landed in front of her.

Peter Parker, in his Spider-Man suit, stood there, his eyes hidden behind his mask but his body language radiating frustration. He quickly yanked her closer to him, his hands firm on her shoulders.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Peter growled through his mask. His voice was tight, filled with an anger Gwen had never heard from him before.

She pulled back, her teeth clenched, her voice sharp. "I'm telling the truth, Peter. I'm done hiding. I'm done pretending."

"You think this is just about you?" Peter snapped, his voice rising in volume. "Do you have any idea what you've just done? Do you know what kind of danger you've put yourself in?"

"I don't care!" Gwen shouted, her voice breaking. She tugged away from him, trying to steady herself. "My family... they don't care about me anymore! My parents kicked me out when they found out who I really am. So why should I care about anything else?"

Peter's posture softened, but only slightly. His fists clenched at his sides, his frustration boiling over. He looked around at the reporters, at the chaos, at the growing storm he'd just stepped into. Then he let out a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Gwen..." His voice was gentler now, but still edged with anger. "This... this isn't how it works. You can't just put yourself out there like this. You can't make yourself a target."

"I've been a target my whole life!" Gwen fired back, her voice cracking with the raw emotion she was holding back. "I'm done with it. I'm done pretending everything's fine when it's not."

Peter took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. "And now you've got their attention," he spat, motioning to the reporters. "You're in the crosshairs now, Gwen. And I'm not going to be there to protect you when things get worse. I can't keep saving you if you keep doing stupid things like this."

Gwen stared at him, her eyes flashing with defiance, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "You still have Aunt May," she said, her voice trembling but firm. "You still have someone who cares about you. I don't have anyone left."

Her chest tightened as she spoke, but she pushed the feeling down. She couldn't let him see how much it hurt-how much she wanted him to understand.

Peter's face softened for a moment, and he took another step closer. His hands opened slightly as though he were about to reach out to her, but instead, he just looked at her, his expression darkening once again. "You don't get it, Gwen," he muttered. "This isn't a game. You can't just throw yourself into danger like this, hoping it'll all work out. You're not invincible."

"I'm not trying to be invincible, Peter," she whispered back, her voice breaking. "I'm just... trying to survive."

And with that, Peter's temper snapped. He spun on his heel, his webbing already fired, pulling him toward the nearest building as he swung away, leaving Gwen standing there, watching him go. The anger in his movements-his sudden departure-stung.

Gwen stood there, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill, but she couldn't hold them back forever. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get a grip, knowing that her decision had just set a course she couldn't turn back from.

But before she could process everything that just happened, the moment was shattered.

Two police officers, their badges gleaming in the harsh light of the cameras, approached her. She stiffened, her pulse racing again. One of them, a man with a stern expression, stepped forward.

"Miss Stacy," he said, his voice stern but calm. "We need to talk to you. Now."

Gwen's heart skipped a beat. Her mind spun with everything that had just happened-the confession, the reporters, Peter, and now the cops. Her body went cold as she realized the magnitude of her decision. She'd just exposed herself to the world. She'd just put herself in danger. And now, there were consequences.

She met their eyes and gave a small, bitter nod. "Fine," she said, trying to hold her composure. "Let's talk."

As they led her away, the eyes of the reporters followed, their questions continuing to rise. But Gwen didn't care. She had already said her truth, and no one could take that away from her.

The cold, sterile room seemed to swallow Gwen whole as she sat there, the harsh fluorescent lights above casting a harsh glow on her face. Her hands were resting on the table, the cuffs around her wrists a constant reminder of how quickly everything had spiraled out of control. She had always been on the edge of danger, but now, in this stark, unforgiving room, it felt different. The weight of the situation was heavier, and it wasn't just because of the reporters or the spotlight. It was because of the man who was about to walk through that door.

A quiet click echoed in the room, and the door swung open. Gwen didn't need to look up to know who it was. She already knew.

Enzo, her stepdad, stood in the doorway, his cop uniform crisp and precise, his face unreadable behind his usual mask of professionalism. His jaw was tight, and his eyes locked on hers like they were weighing something she couldn't quite understand.

"Guess it's come down to this, Gwendolyn," Enzo said, his voice cold, as if this was just another case to him. Gwen could feel her heart twist at the way he said her name, like it was some kind of accusation.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Really? You're just going to stand there and act like you have the moral high ground? Why are you cops making me and Peter the bad guys? We didn't kill Mysterio." Her voice was thick with frustration, the anger bubbling up to the surface.

Enzo didn't flinch. He stepped further into the room, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her. "I'm not here to discuss the media's accusations, Gwendolyn. I'm here to ask you questions. You're involved in something bigger than you think. You are Spider-Woman, and I need to know what happened at the end of the Mysterio incident."

Gwen leaned back in her chair, rolling her eyes again. "You really don't get it, do you?" she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You think just because I'm Spider-Woman, I'm part of some evil conspiracy with Peter? We didn't kill Mysterio, Enzo. We're just... we're just trying to survive like anyone else. You think I wanted any of this?"

Enzo ignored her outburst, his gaze never wavering as he began his line of questioning. "Let's start with what happened after the incident at Stark Tower. The whole world saw Mysterio frame Spider-Man for his crimes. Peter Parker's identity was exposed, and you were seen alongside him. What exactly happened in those final moments?"

Gwen's fists clenched, and the sudden flash of rage that coursed through her made her almost forget where she was. "You really don't want to know," she muttered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

"Tell me anyway," Enzo pressed, leaning forward slightly. "What happened when Mysterio died? Why did you two seem so involved?"

Gwen's vision blurred for a moment, the memories of that night flooding back in waves. Mysterio's death had been the climax of everything, the moment that shattered so many lives. Peter's secret identity was out in the open, the city was in chaos, and they were both blamed for it. For a second, the room felt like it was closing in on her.

"Why don't you just arrest us already?" Gwen snapped, her temper rising. "Because that's all you're after, isn't it? You don't care about the truth. You just care about pinning everything on me and Peter."

Enzo didn't respond immediately. He sat there for a long moment, his eyes steady as he took in her words. Then, in a calm voice, he spoke again. "You don't get to walk away from this, Gwendolyn. You think this is some game? That you can just let Peter take the fall for everything and leave yourself out of it?"

Gwen stood up suddenly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I'm not the one who decided to make everyone think we were the bad guys! You and the city and the cops and the press-all of you are the ones who twisted everything! Peter's just trying to do the right thing, and so am I. But none of you care about that."

Without warning, Gwen pushed past him, intent on walking out of the interrogation room. But as she reached the door, her fingers brushed the handle-and it wouldn't budge. It was locked.

A low growl of frustration escaped her throat. She didn't even think, just acted on impulse. Her body reacted before her brain caught up, and in a blur of motion, she shot a web from her wrist. It latched onto the door handle, and with a quick yank, she pulled it open, the metal door swinging wide.

"Gwendolyn Stacy!" Enzo's voice boomed across the room, his tone seething with anger. "If you walk out of here, you'll be a fugitive. You hear me?"

Gwen turned to face him, her eyes blazing with a fire that could rival his. "I have nothing to lose," she said, the words dripping with finality. "I've already lost everything-my family, my life, my place in the world. What's a fugitive to me?"

Before Enzo could respond, his radio crackled. "We need backup at Interrogation Room 3. Subject is attempting to escape."

Gwen barely had time to react before the door opened and a few officers entered, their hands already reaching for their weapons. She wasn't sure whether they were there to arrest her or subdue her, but she wasn't going down quietly. She couldn't.

In a flash, Gwen shot another web, this time at the ceiling light fixture, using it to swing across the room, narrowly avoiding the officers who quickly moved to block her exit. She landed with a roll, skidding to a halt, her body ready to fight.

"Don't make this worse, Gwendolyn!" Enzo shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.

But Gwen didn't care. She was done being told what to do, done being controlled by anyone-especially him. The tension in her body surged as she shot another web at one of the officers who tried to get too close. She flung him into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. Two more cops rushed toward her, but she was ready, spinning into action.

The room was now filled with the sounds of struggle-the scraping of boots against the floor, the cries of officers trying to subdue her. Gwen's heart raced, but there was a calmness in her, the quiet realization that there was no turning back.

She had to fight for her freedom now.

And she was willing to take on everyone who stood in her way.

The room erupted into chaos. Officers scrambled toward Gwen, their hands outstretched, attempting to restrain her, but she wasn't going to make it easy. She flipped backwards with agility, narrowly avoiding one cop who lunged at her, his hand grazing the edge of her sleeve. Gwen's heart pounded as she shot a web at the officer's chest, sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud. She quickly scanned the room-more cops were coming, and she couldn't afford to waste time.

"Move!" Gwen hissed under her breath, her heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline. She shot another web at the ceiling light, using the momentum to swing across the room. The force of the swing knocked another officer to the ground as she landed in a crouch near the door. She was fast-faster than they could react.

Before they could recover, Gwen shot a web at the door handle, pulling it open with a forceful yank. She was out.

Her sneakers hit the hard floor of the hallway as she sprinted, her body moving like a blur. She barely spared a glance behind her, knowing that if she hesitated, they'd catch her. But she couldn't stop now. There was one place she could go. One person who might still understand her.

MJ.

The street outside the police station was busy with the usual throngs of people, but Gwen moved through the crowd like a ghost, blending into the shadows and keeping a low profile. Her breath came in shallow gasps, but she didn't dare slow down. She had to make it to MJ's house. It was the one place she knew she could go without being questioned, even if she felt like an intruder.

She wasn't sure how long it took, but it felt like an eternity before she finally saw the familiar, warm glow of MJ's porch light in the distance. Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure what she'd find once she got there, but she had to try.

Gwen approached the front door cautiously, her mind running through all the worst-case scenarios. What if MJ didn't want to see her? What if she thought Gwen had turned into some kind of villain? It didn't matter. Gwen had nowhere else to go.

She lifted her hand to knock but froze when she saw the curtain shift from the window. The door opened before she could knock, and there stood MJ, her eyes wide with shock. She looked like she had just been about to head out, but when her gaze fell on Gwen, she froze.

"Gwen?" MJ asked, voice trembling with disbelief. "What... what are you doing here?"

Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She was so tired-exhausted in a way that went beyond physical exhaustion. She had fought off the cops. She had barely escaped being caught. And now, standing in front of MJ, her eyes felt heavy, her breath shallow.

"I-" Gwen started, but she was cut off by a sharp intake of breath. "I need help."

MJ stepped aside, her face still a mask of confusion, but there was something in her eyes-something that told Gwen MJ wasn't going to ask questions. Not right now.

Without a word, MJ motioned for her to come in, and Gwen didn't hesitate. She stepped into the safety of MJ's home, feeling a brief moment of relief wash over her, but it was quickly replaced by the gnawing realization that she had no idea what came next. She was a fugitive now. Running from the police, running from her family, running from everything.

"You need to get off the streets, Gwen," MJ said gently, closing the door behind her. "Come sit down."

Gwen nodded, taking in a deep breath, then collapsed onto the couch, her body sagging as the weight of everything hit her all at once. She didn't even try to stop the tears that began to spill down her cheeks.

MJ sat down beside her, not saying anything, just offering silent comfort. She didn't ask about the fight or what happened at the police station-she didn't need to. She knew Gwen was fighting something bigger than just the cops, something she'd never be able to fully understand, but she didn't have to.

"Peter's probably losing his mind," Gwen said through a quiet sniffle, her voice shaky as she wiped her face. "I can't-everything's falling apart. I don't know what to do anymore, MJ."

MJ didn't respond immediately. She just reached out, placing a gentle hand on Gwen's arm. "You've got a lot on your plate right now. But you're not alone, okay? You can stay here as long as you need to. Just... breathe for a minute."

Gwen nodded, her head leaning back against the couch as she let out a shaky breath. For the first time in what felt like ages, she didn't feel like she was being chased. She didn't feel like the world was closing in on her. In MJ's house, with her friend sitting beside her, for just a moment, everything felt a little less heavy.

But deep down, Gwen knew this was only temporary. There was no running from what was coming next. The world knew she was Spider-Woman now, and it was only a matter of time before the consequences caught up with her.

But for tonight, at least, she had somewhere to hide. Somewhere to breathe.

And that, for now, was enough.

ASH SPEAKS!!!

enzo hate club!!

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)