Chapter 37 : Trust and Shadows
New York, Queens – Alex's POV
I watched her in silence for a moment — long enough for her to realize I wasn't going to look away this time.
I drew a slow breath.
"So… do you have something to tell me?"
My voice was calm, steady, but every word carried weight.
"Because if you do, now's the time. Once I start, I don't know when I'll stop."
She didn't answer right away. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her sleeve, her gaze flicking down for an instant before meeting mine again. The confident, daring Spider Woman wasn't there — just Gwen. And between us, the silence felt heavy with everything she hadn't said.
Gwen took a quiet breath, her shoulders tightening before she finally spoke.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. The words came out small, but real. "I should've told you. About the hostage thing. I just…" — she hesitated, searching for the right words — "I knew what you'd say. And I didn't want to hear it. Not this time."
I stayed silent, watching her. No accusation, no anger — just waiting. That was enough to make her keep talking.
"I thought I could handle it," she continued, stepping a little closer. "Spider-Man showed up, and it felt… possible. Like maybe I could actually make a difference. I didn't plan to go in — I swear — but once it started, I couldn't just stay out of it."
She swallowed, her voice trembling slightly. "People were in danger, Alex. If I'd done nothing, someone could've died. And I just— I couldn't let that happen."
Her hands moved as she spoke, restless energy betraying how torn she was.
"I know you worry. And I know you're right about the risks. But being Spider Woman isn't just about staying safe. It's about helping people — even when it's messy, even when it's not part of the plan."
She looked up then, meeting my eyes again, and there it was — that same spark of conviction I'd fallen for, burning through the fear and guilt.
"I'm sorry for not telling you. For making you find out like that. You didn't deserve that."
A faint, almost broken smile crossed her lips. "I just didn't want to disappoint you."
For a moment, I didn't say anything. I just looked at her — really looked — and the words built up before I could hold them back.
"Do you have any idea what that felt like?" I said quietly, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. "To find out like that? To sit here and watch the news — Jameson's damn broadcast — and see you there in the middle of it all?"
Her expression faltered, but I didn't stop.
"We're supposed to be a team, Gwen. We made that choice together — you and me," I said, my tone low but sharp. "You're the one who told me you could handle me having other women one day, that you'd be the queen of that so-called harem — because you trusted me, because you wanted honesty above everything else."
I took a slow breath, my chest tight. "But then you turn around and do this. You keep something like this from me. You act like I can't handle the truth, like I'm just someone safer to keep in the dark."
I shook my head, the words cutting deeper as they came. "I knew — I always knew — that I couldn't hold you back forever. That there'd come a day when you'd take on something big, something dangerous."
My voice broke slightly as frustration gave way to something heavier. "But not like this. Not behind my back. Not finding out from the damn news instead of from you."
I swallowed hard, meeting her eyes. "I'm not angry because you acted, Gwen. I'm angry because you shut me out. Because you didn't trust me — not just as your partner out there, but as your boyfriend. You said you wanted honesty, that we'd face everything together… and instead, you left me standing in the dark, like I didn't matter at all."
Gwen froze, and I could see the weight of my words hitting her harder than I expected. Her breath caught, and I realized she was searching my face — not for anger, but for something far worse.
I wasn't furious. I was hurt.
That must have hit her harder than any accusation could have.
"I…" she started, her voice faltering before she forced herself to steady it. "Alex, I didn't— I wasn't trying to shut you out." She took a small step toward me, her tone softer, the confidence she usually carried replaced with raw honesty. "I just… I thought I could handle it. That if I told you, you'd try to stop me — not because you don't trust me, but because you'd want to protect me."
I didn't respond right away, and I think the silence said more than words ever could.
She swallowed hard, her shoulders sagging. "But I see it now. You weren't angry about the danger. You were angry because I broke our trust." Her gaze dropped to the floor, and I could feel the guilt pressing down on her. "You trusted me to be your partner — in this, in us — and I made you feel like I didn't trust you back."
When she finally met my eyes again, they were shining with quiet remorse. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Alex. I really didn't. I thought I was protecting you… but I guess I was just protecting myself."
I could see it all — the realization, the guilt, the shame. And even though I was still hurt, I could also see how much she cared, how much she wanted to make it right.
took a slow breath, still holding her close, and let the words spill out carefully, measured but tinged with the edge of lingering worry.
"It took me less than five minutes to figure out who Spider-Man really is," I began, keeping my voice low. "Patterns, behavior, patrol zones, timing… everything pointed to him. It's Peter Parker. And honestly, I wasn't surprised. But it showed me something important — the kind of attention someone like you draws.
I shifted slightly so I could look into her eyes, wanting her to understand the seriousness without feeling the full weight of my panic.
"There are groups watching you, Gwen — ones trying to gather information on Spider Woman," I said quietly. "S.H.I.E.L.D., for starters. They're a government intelligence agency — global reach, advanced tech, and a tendency to meddle wherever 'enhanced individuals' appear. On paper, they protect people like us. In practice, they observe, classify, and decide who's a threat."
I paused for a moment before continuing, my tone steady but cautious. "Then there's Oscorp and Alchemax. Both have their hands deep in genetic and biotech research. If they can identify you, they won't see a person — they'll see a specimen, something to study or replicate."
Finally, I leaned back slightly, keeping my eyes on hers. "And the Army… specifically a division that's been studying the Super Soldier program for years. Their interest isn't protection — it's control. They don't want heroes. They want weapons."
I let the words settle, my thumb brushing gently against her hand. "Each one of them is watching for their own reason. And the more you stand out, the closer they'll look."
I let my words settle before continuing. "Some of them want to control you, some want to exploit you, some… just want to catalog every move you make. None of it is about stopping crime or protecting anyone. It's about power, influence, and information."
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration mixed with resolve. "I've been erasing traces, covering tracks, trying to make sure no one knows who you are. Every camera, every server, every snippet of footage that could link you to Spider Woman… I've gone after it. And I'll keep doing it. But you need to understand, Gwen… the world isn't safe, and they're watching."
I squeezed her gently, letting the weight of what I'd just shared linger between us. "That's why I needed you to come here. Not to lecture, not to stop you, but so we can face this together — and so I can protect you, as best as I can."
Gwen's eyes softened as the weight of everything I'd said sank in. I could see the realization dawning on her — that all this time, while she'd been focused on patrols, training, and keeping the city safe, I'd been quietly waging another kind of war in the background.
Her hand tightened around mine, her voice small but sincere. "You've been carrying all of this… alone. For me."
I shook my head, brushing my thumb along her knuckles. "Not for you, Gwen. Because of you. Because I couldn't stand the thought of someone out there finding out who you are — of them turning you into a target before you even saw it coming."
She blinked, her lips parting as if to speak, but nothing came. I could see the guilt flicker in her eyes — the way she wanted to thank me, but also the way she didn't think she deserved to.
I took a slow breath, forcing myself to keep my tone calm. "Peter wasn't as careful. He's already on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar. That means the surveillance net is wide — they're watching him, his routes, his home… even the people connected to him."
Her head lifted slightly, confusion and worry mixing in her gaze.
"Yeah," I continued quietly. "That includes the building. The same one we live in. Cameras, data pings, pattern scans — nothing too invasive yet, but it's enough to make talking freely dangerous. That's why I built the white noise generator. It's the only way we can be sure we're not being listened to."
She swallowed hard, guilt clouding her expression even more. I reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
"Hey," I said softly. "You don't owe me an apology for not knowing. I didn't tell you because… I wanted you to keep that light in you. The part that believes we can still make a difference without losing ourselves."