Spidey Reunion

December 14, 2018:

Peter meets a Gwen from another dimension.

Central Park

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions: Captain Stacy, Aunt May

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

*

Tap-tap-tap, the sound of Spider-Man's sideways running footsteps over the glass facade of the MetLife skyscraper is unlikely to be heard by anyone this time of the evening unless one of the cleaning staff is working late. Yet even if there were a dozen people in all the office meeting rooms he just ran past on the outside of those large majestic windows, it's doubtful that the wallcrawler would break stride at all.
He rounds the side, fingertips trailing along the wall as he begins to sliiiiide down the side of the building, boots squeaking as he catches his step and then finally falling silent as he /leaps/ off of the building and into the abyssal chasm between Manhattan's skyline. Dropping lower and lower, he snaps out a hand, webline /thwipping/ forth to snare the corner of a building and snapping taut to shift his terminal descent into a loooong swing that once he lets go of the line sends him hurtling forwards like a pumpkin hurled out of a catapult.
Flipping through the air, gravity eventually catches up to him as he drops down towards the Brickskeller building, snaring his descent with a line lashed out and then letting him flip up and around and onto the rooftop where he ducks inside still _running_ full tilt…
And disappears into the janitorial closet atop that building. Within he starts to make the change back into Peter Parker, pulling his mask off and putting on his shoes. Jacket is pulled over and his jeans take a bit of time. But once clear he emerges and /dashes/ out of the room, onto the fire escape. Down three flights, dropping onto the ground…
And suddenly there he is, one with the crowd as he checks his watch and groans, "Sooo late." He tucks his shirt in, slings his backpack, and starts to walk as fast as he can, weaving in and out of the crowd easy as anything.

*

Two hours previously … Spider-Gwen arrives at her father's house. A "for purchase" sign is covered over with "just bought" in red letters. As Gwen ducks in the secondary story window, mask in hand, she explores what used to be her room; now empty and full of boxes that aren't hers. As she opens what used to be her bedroom door, she's greeted by an elderly woman with an oxygen tank and a shotgun.

Two hours later, she's fully clothed in street clothes. Backpack slung over her back with a pair of white earbuds going to her ears blasting music. She's mixed in with the throngs of the crowd, with a somewhat vacant expression. — Until a familiar student weaves past her, causing a doubletake.

"Peter?"

*

It's almost a vision out of the past. That same hurried/harried look to him. That same furrowed brow of concentration as he darts past some small ways away. It's just a momentary glimpse in between a tall man in a business suit and the woman on his arm that that familiar silhouette is caught and jars old memories.
She might even have a moment where she'll see him pause, hesitating for a moment as he hits the crosswalk with the sign being red for that split second. Then, just as he's about to turn to face her, one hand pushing through his ragged mop of hair on his head, a group of tourists step in the way smiling as they wander past wearing their Les Mis t-shirts and chattering about the show.
And then once they're past she'll see him again. Only now… he's already moving across that cross-walk, into the street. Off of it, and onto the far sidewalk. Perhaps about to slip out of her life once again.

*

Gwen pauses as though she's seen a ghost, staring off in Peter's direction as crowds obscure her vision. He didn't respond to Peter. "It's not him.." she whispers to herself. It couldn't be, right? Peter is dead. She killed him. Craning her neck, she only catches a glimpse of him as he gets to the far sidewalk.

She just starts to run after him when the crosswalk turns red, and she stops right at the edge of the curb. "C'mon, c'mon.." she begs the light, bouncing on the edge as she watches Peter just slip out of reach. Not quite ready to let that chance slip away she begins running parallel to Peter on the opposite sidewalk. "I'll just have to catch him at the next light!"

*

Distantly she'll see him check his watch again as he continues on down the street. The crowd is that typical evening crowd in this part of Manhattan on a Friday night. Party-goers, diners, theater fans, the night is young and alive for them despite the chill in the air. But for young Mr. Parker he is moving with a sense of purpose you usually only see during the day during rush hour.
She'll see him take the next corner and head up along it towards the tall wrought iron fence entrance into Central Park. If he gets in there she might lose him entirely. But then again… there are none of those pesky traffic laws in the greenery there.
From his point of view, Peter is still frowning to himself as he moves into the park. Footsteps quick and light he stops at the entrance there and then pulls out his cellphone. For a time he stands there, the other end ringing.
"Hey Aunt May, they just let out here. Wanted to catch you before you went to sleep."
"Yeah, it was pretty fun."
"Yeah, can you hear them?" He asks as he holds out the phone to perhaps catch some of the ambient sound of the people laughing in the rink.
"Pretty great, huh? Ok I gotta go. Lots of things to take care of tommorrow."
"Love you too."

*

Huffing, she jogs through the crowds, bobbing and weaving people with some semblance of grace, and also a few apologies. Not that she can really hear much through her headphones. As she reaches the corner of the traffic light, she's stuck at -yet another- red crosswalk, and all she can do is watch Peter and the entrance of the park while bouncing on foot to foot by the edge of the curb.

Gwen pulls out her earbuds and pockets them into her jacket as she waits for the light to turn green — just in time for Parker to enter the park. By this time, she's nearly sprinting for the entrance, just making it into the greenery and slowing from a run to a jog, and then to a walk as she scans the area of Peter.

*

She emerges behind him as he stands there with his phone held out towards the frozen ice rink. For an instant there might be a moment of trepidation or surprise. Perhaps that's not really him? Maybe that's just someone that looks like him. But then she'll hear his voice as he says those last three words, "Love you too."
And he turns to the side, that profile, the curve of his features, the chestnut brown hair and that slightly goofy lop-sided smile as he looks down at his phone for a moment.
HHe swipes his thumb over the surface of the phone and slips it into his back pocket, readjusting his backpack as he starts to turn to walk away again. And in that instant she has a decision to make. To try and close the distance, to catch him, to face him right then and there…
Or to let him go. For now, if not forever.

*

For a moment Gwen stands there, listening to him say those last three words on the phone. Her breathing quickened from trying to catch him — all that effort spent chasing Peter on the streets. Everything about him is exactly like she remembered it. This _is_ Peter Parker. All she can think about is the serum and everything that happened that followed. He's about to walk away.

"If this is like.. a shitty spiritual quest or something, it's really messed up." Gwen blurts out behind Peter.

*

Gwen's voice rises, carrying enough across the way that she'll see his body hitch for a moment with what could be recognition. Then as he turns around to face her, brow furrowed with a hint of consternation, it takes just a moment for him to look across the crowd. And then those blue eyes find hers and for a moment they meet.
It's a rush of emotions that she can read there. He never was a kid with a poker face, he'd lose even when they'd play Uno when they were younger. But there's the warmth of recognition. Replaced quickly by the haze of confusion. Then the onset of reality when he knows that this can't be here, that she's dead and this is… something messed up.
Or someone trying to run something on him.
Or something crazy.
But none of that is evidenced in the way his voice cracks slightly as he says, "Gwen?" His backpack fwumpfing off his shoulder to the ground.

*

Gwen takes a few steps forward, "You can't be alive, Peter. You're dead, right?" There's the look of confusion on her face, too. Is this linked to the dimensional rift or something? It seemed like the same one. .. Just.. everything is different. Can so much change in just a couple months? Her mind is racing to find excuses. Is this related to the rifts? She -saw- him die. In her arms. You just can't make that up.

*

When she steps forwards he takes a step back. One hand comes up to hold out to her, "Hold on." He keeps that hand up as if it were a life line, or holding a shield to protect him from whatever she might well be. Peter's eyebrows have beetled together even as he tries to make sense of what exactly is in front of him.
"Just hold on." That second time is offered, a little weaker than the last but perhaps a bit frantic. He reaches down and scoops up his backpack again, then looks around as if trying to espy whatever might /really/ be happening. But there's no tell-tale tingle from his spider-sense, no malice aimed at him, no trap as far as he can tell.
But that doesn't make him feel any better at all. "Who are you?" He asks quickly, a little sharply even as he keeps that hand up.

*

Gwen stops at the second hold on, her own hand raising a little bit, caught in the motion of wanting to reach out and grab Parker. There are too many things to say. Too many words. The silence only punctuated by the music still playing out of her earbuds in her pocket. "I'm.. Gwen.. But I think I'm from another dimension." She squints, what a stupid thing to say. That didn't make any sense.

"At least, I think I am. I fell out of a rift. And my phone won't work and dad is gone.." The addition of yet more words did not help.

*

The next word is thrown at her like an accusation, "What?" He just looks at her as if she were a crazy person, though by now they're starting to get some glances from some of the people walking by. Peter at first doesn't see it, but a slight jostle from a passer by and he realizes. Shaking his head he looks to her, away, then back and steps closer. One hand is still a little up as if to make sure she keeps her distance.
But he steps close enough that that can speak quietly, if a touch furtively. "Ok, to be fair. I know about the rifts. Some craziness connected to what went down last month." Though what he's referring to she might not know.
"But… /what?/"

*

"Look, I know it sounds crazy," Gwen spits back in a hushed voice. She shrugs her shoulders and slowly lowers her backpack to put it on the greenery. Especially to show that she means no threat. "You have to believe me. ..We played board games in high school, remember?"

She takes another step forward, one hand still raised as well, "The school bullies used to call you pathetic Parker." …That was a dumb thing to say. "Sorry."

*

"Puny." He says, then he softly adds. "Puny Parker." Peter corrects and looks at her, he frowns and draws his hand back, folding his arms over his chest though not as if proud and more pensive. He looks up at her sidelong and steps away. Just one step back to keep the distance.
He looks at her sidelong as if she were some alien that had just touched down. Then he shakes his head as his cellphone whirs faintly. "Crap…"
It's drawn forth from his back pocket, his thumb brushing across the surface as he considers what's said there. For whatever reason he swipes his thumb again and then puts the phone away. "I…" He looks at her and finds himself with the strangest case of deja vu, having to tell Gwen. 'I have to go.' and seeing that same pained look on her features as he did back then.
"I have to go." He finally says, and his blue eyes show a hint of strength there that might not have been present in her own Peter. "But I think we'll… we may need to talk. You should…" He frowns, looks away. He looks back. "Should write me. Put it under that rock in the playground in Queens?" He asks, knowing that if it's her she'll know. If not…

*

Gwen draws her hand back to hold onto the jacket cord by the hem of her collar, playing with it in her fingers nervously. Her eyes dart reflexively to the whirring — she's used to being on guard, but that catches her for a moment. There are still so many words she wants to say. 'Just say them!' Nothing comes out as Peter remarks about him having to go. There is a pained look on her face. Maybe a different kind of pain than before.

"I'll write," she quips back. Before retreating back into her shell. This has been a long day. Once Peter begins walking away, she puts in her earbuds and turns to walk the other way.

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