The TV in the Parker residence living room buzzed with the latest newsfeed. Every channel replayed the same loop: Spider-Woman in her new armored suit, leaping through the skyline, her regenerative shields glowing as they absorbed gunfire. The city was stunned. The police were stunned. And Captain George Stacey more than anyone was furious.
A sharp knock at the door cut through the hum. Aunt May opened it to reveal George in his uniform, his cap under his arm, his expression carved from granite.
"Evening, May." He said flatly. "I need a word. With Gwen and Peter."
Moments later, the three of them sat at the kitchen table. George's coffee mug rattled under the weight of his palm as he leaned forward.
"I thought I made myself clear last time. If you were going to keep doing this… Spider-Woman thing… I expected to be kept in the loop. Instead, I find out that my daughter's flying around the city in a walking tank suit with sci-fi gizmo when she makes a grand entrance. Do you have any idea what that does to me?"
"Dad, I wasn't shutting you out," Gwen said quickly. "Peter and I were still… testing things. I didn't want to drag you into every single detail—"
George's hand slammed against the table. "Every detail? Gwen, you were trading blows with armed thugs in front of half the NYPD! You think I enjoy standing on the sidelines, watching my daughter risk her life with tech I don't even understand?"
Peter cleared his throat, stepping into the crossfire.
"Sir, it wasn't about showing off. That suit's designed to keep her alive. Hydrostatic gel, inner skinsuit, regenerative shielding. If she had this back during the Connors fight, you wouldn't have needed to worry about a hospital bed."
George's glare shifted. "And you expect me to believe a teenager just… whips up something outclassing Pentagon?"
Peter gave his trademark lopsided smirk.
"Well… technically two somethings. Mine's the twin. And yeah, I know how it sounds. But I'm not giving this to anyone else. Not Oscorp, not DARPA. Just us. Also the designing of everything is mine I only went to Tony Stark to build the things. Not to mention I made the Sandevistan in my basement."
George's voice softened, but the cracks showed. "Do you know what it's like? To pray every night your kid comes home in one piece? To see her name tied to danger, over and over again?"
Gwen reached across, covering his large hand with hers. "I don't want to shut you out, Dad. But I need to stand on my own feet. I'm not a little girl anymore. And I promise from now on, you'll know. You'll be in the loop."
He stared at her for a long, aching moment, before giving a single, reluctant nod.
When George left, his words lingered like smoke.
"You think you're ready for the world. Maybe you are. But the world will never be ready for you."
Upstairs – Peter's Room
The silence of Peter's room was a strange relief. Gwen sat cross-legged on his bed, idly toying with a loose thread in the blanket, while Peter leaned back in his chair.
"Well," Gwen muttered, "that went about as well as it could've."
Peter smirked, though his tone was gentle. "Could've been worse. He could've shot me."
Gwen snorted despite herself, tossing a pillow at him. "You're impossible."
"Hey, impossible keeps me charming." He caught the pillow, tossing it back at her lightly. Then, more serious, "You know he's only scared because he loves you."
Her shoulders softened. "I know. But sometimes it feels like I'm tearing him in two just by existing as Spider-Woman."
Peter got up, sitting beside her. He brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face, her eyebrow piercing gleaming under the ceiling light. "Then let me be the glue, alright? We'll keep him in the loop. No more secrets. No more blindsiding. Just… us."
For a long beat, Gwen studied him. Then she leaned in, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "You're too good to me, Peter Parker."
"Correction," he said softly, slipping an arm around her waist. "I'm exactly good enough for you."
Her laughter was quiet, but it filled the room. They stayed like that, leaning into each other's warmth, the weight of the world briefly forgotten.
?????
A building was surrounded by maple forest. Beneath the building in a sterile underground lab, a row of men in suits stood before a vast, humming machine. Leading them was a woman with sickly green goggles and messy hair.
A single word scrolled across its digital interface: COLLIDER – INITIALIZATION PHASE.
One of the technicians adjusted his glasses nervously. "We're ahead of schedule. The energy output is already exceeding projections."
A man built like a brick wall was clicking a mechanical pen. His silhouette loomed behind the observation glass, his voice rough and cold.
"Good. Start the tests."
The collider thrummed louder, violet arcs of unstable power dancing across its frame. The surrounding started to glitch.
Somewhere, the multiverse stirred.
Read 27 chapters ahead on P.A.T.R.E.O.N
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