Me & Gwen Stacy

four

idk im sorta merging previous chapters cause they were disgustingly short, so yeah.

-four-

Peter POV

I delivered a swift kick to the chest of the masked burglar and was satisfied when I heard his breath escaping him in a woosh. It was the same night that Gwen had shot me down, and I had made a hasty conclusion that broken hearts hurt like a mother...

I pinned the man against the cold brick wall behind him and felt a little tug at my heart looking at his frightened eyes. I decided to go easy on him. To leave him be. I departed with a witty oneliner-- that was not surprisingly, uncharacteristically lacking in wit-- and lept off into the city sky.

As an avid reader I recall once on one of my forays into the depths of the internet-- you know the ones: when you start by googling a homeowrk answer and then hours later you're watching a girl sneeze with her eyes open on YouTube. Anyway, somewhere between that homework answer and that weird video, I came across an article on the Five Stages of Grief and Lose. The first was denial, the second was anger, then bargaining, followed by depression, and lastly-- acceptance. I was a long way from the last one. And as I swung over traffic and loud city noises, that's when it hit me. Anger hit me like a freight train. Stage two.

I was angry that Gwen let me go. I was angry that she left directly afterwards. That she had separated us further on an emotional level and a physical level. But above all I was furious that I just stood by and let her. Sure I was torn up inside and I cried about it, but now it just all led to rage. It was wild and raw and consumed me almost fully. It was like I was in a pool of madness up to my chin. Maybe that's why I went looking for trouble.

I found Vulture in a desolate dark industrial part of the city. The street lights were few and far apart. He was circling around in the air, gliding in and out of the shadows.

"Hey birdy!" I yelled. I knew it was foolish, but I was driven by emotions that needed an outlet. Vulture screamed outlet.

"Oh lookie me, how lucky am I tonight to happen upon the little bug man," he chuckled in his tormenting voice.

I scoffed, "I wouldn't be talking if I were you- the man named after a bird. And you're not even a majestic bird. You're a vulture," I spat, "you don't even have it in you to find your prey, but let others do your dirty work."

"I personally think that it is a very clever tactic," he swooped down dangerously close and I felt one of his feathers scrape my face drawing blood, "but I can't say I'll be using it tonight."

I got ready to jump into the air and throw a punch, but his sharp feathers started shooting down like rain. They stabbed me every so often nd I ground my teeth in pain. I jumped up and webbed myself up to his altitude swinging a clumsy punch at his face and his beak-like nose.

He simply laughed.

I was fighting all over the place. I was unbalanced and my head was not in it all the way. I knew then that this was a bad idea, but somehow I welcomed the pain.

Gwen POV

I woke up breathing raggedly. I was suddenly too hot too out of breath. Throwing my covers off of me and sliding the windows open I slipped out and unto the cold metal fire escape. I heard it groan in protest of my unwelcome weight. I briefly feared that it couldn't support me, but most of my mind was consumed with the remnants of the dream I had just escaped. It was painstakingly vivid. In it Peter was Spiderman. He was fighting someone with deadly wings and an evil laugh. He was wounded in the dream. He was giving his best, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn't focused. I felt a sharp pain in my foot in the dream and then I realized that I was there, but I didn't know what to do. I couldn't help, and somehow I knew everything was my fault as Peter fell through the sky and down, down, down...