Spider-Man: Web Of Lies

Gwen didn't show up for school today.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, not with everything going on. But part of me was still hoping she'd be here, sitting next to me in bio, or bumping into me in the hall like usual. She hasn't texted me either, and for some reason, I've been too anxious to reach out to her. I don't know if it's because of the guilt, or because I'm too much of a coward.

And Harry, I had no idea if he was still using those pills. Or when he'd decide to come back to school either. There is so much to do, so many people I have to attend to but I find myself without any time at all. Although this wasn't even my most pressing matter at the moment.

After the video of "Spider-Man" supposedly killing Captain Stacy went viral, the whole internet went crazy. Any support I had before? Gone. People who might've defended Spider-Man? Silent now. The city doesn't believe in me anymore. And maybe... I don't believe in me either.

I didn't kill him. I know that. But I sure as hell didn't save him either.

The hallways are packed with kids talking, laughing, and going about their day, but it's like every whisper I hear is about me. About Spider-Man. About the murder. Of course, they don't know it's me, but that doesn't stop me from feeling exposed, like any second someone's going to figure it out. For all the good I've tried to do, all it's ever amounted to is broken bones, and now, everyone hates my guts.

"Peter," a soft voice calls from behind me. I turn, and it's Felicia. I haven't replied to any of her texts—or anyone's, really—but I wasn't sure what she thought of me now. Her face doesn't give much away.

"Felicia," I manage, my hands clammy as I wipe them against my jeans. "I didn't kill him—I didn't kill Captain Stacy. I swear."

She nods, her expression calm. "I know, Parker." Her words are blunt, but it feels like a massive weight lifts off my shoulders.

I can't help but breathe a little easier. "Thanks."

Felicia glances around to make sure no one's paying attention, then steps closer. "Look, I know things are... really bad right now. But I know you. You're that dorky guy who swings around the city, punching animal-themed idiots. You're a lot of things—awkward, naive, maybe a little stupid—but you're not a killer."

I blink, and despite everything, I almost laugh. "Thanks?"

"I'm serious, Parker." She leans in, lowering her voice. "I've been looking into that guy. The one who came forward with the video—Quentin Beck."

"What? You've been looking into him? Why?" I say, alarmed. "That's dangerous, Felicia! He could be working with—"

"I was just trying to help—"

"No!" I cut her off, and for a second, she looks caught off guard. Then her expression hardens, that icy calm settling back in place. "No, you can't get involved. It's too dangerous. I don't want anyone else caught in this."

Felicia narrows her eyes, her voice steady but a little cold. "I get it. You're scared, and you don't want me in harm's way. But, Parker, this isn't—"

"I'm not scared for me, Felicia," I interrupt, shaking my head. "I'm scared for you.... Norman...He already came after you. After May. I can't let that happen again. I won't."

Felicia stares at me for a long second, her expression unreadable. Then she lets out a breath. "Alright. Fine. You win. But at least let me tell you what I found."

I rub my temples, feeling the tension creep up the back of my neck. "Okay, fine. What did you find?"

She pulls out some folded papers and screenshots, mostly articles and old documents. "Beck wasn't just some random guy who happened to be there with a camera," she says, pointing to a segment of one of the articles. "He was working on some kind of breakthrough holographic technology at Oscorp. Top-secret stuff."

I freeze, scanning the papers. "Holograms?"

Felicia nods. "Yeah. The article doesn't say much more than that, though. Just that it's supposed to be revolutionary." She pauses, meeting my eyes. "But it can't be a coincidence, Peter. Not with that video."

I stare down at the paper, my mind racing. Holographic tech... Beck worked for Osborn... Suddenly, the pieces start to click. "If he's using holograms," I mutter, "then that video... It's not real. It's a fake. Beck could've made it look like I was the one who—"

"Exactly," Felicia says, cutting in, her voice low but urgent. "I don't have proof yet, but it's the only thing that makes sense."

I look back at her, feeling a weight settle in my chest. "Thank you, Felicia. For doing all this. But... why?" I ask, frowning. "Why would you go through all this trouble for me?"

Felicia's lips curl into a sly smile, and she shrugs. "What are friends for, Parker?"

Before I can say anything else, the bell rings, cutting through the tense silence. She winks at me and disappears into the crowd of students, leaving me standing there, still holding the papers. My heart's pounding, and suddenly, I'm not sure what's worse—that someone's framing me, or that the Goblin is still out there plotting on how next he can ruin my life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Halfway through my Algebra class, the door opens, and in walks Gwen Stacy. For a minute I'm not sure if I'm hallucinating or not, but as her eyes reach mine, and she smiles that Gwen Stacy smile. I'm sure it's really her.

"Hi, Mr. Harrington. Here's my note." She says, handing him a piece of paper, which he awkwardly grabs.

"A-Ah, no worries, Ms. Stacy." He says, crumbling up the piece of paper. "Please, take your seat." He smiles, and she nods.

The rest of the class stare at her, a few of them whispering, but she just avoids all their stares, keeping her focus on me as she takes her seat, opening her bag and putting her notebooks on her desk.

I should say something, why haven't I yet? Why didn't I run up to her and hug her?

Because that would be weird.

Should I tell her I'm sorry? Should I ask her how she's doing? What if she doesn't want pity, and gets annoyed at me?

What if I—

"Peter," Gwen whispers as Mr. Harrington continues his lecture. "I-I'm sorry I never texted. Last night was..."

I'm sure she's referring to the video. What do I even say about that? How can I say anything? Such a horrible video of your father going around, I can't imagine the pain, the confusion she must be feeling.

"Don't apologize. Okay?" I say with a smile. "I should've...I should've texted you. I just..."

Gwen frowns a bit. "No, no. It's okay. I know you have your own things going on. And, I was going to stop by and see May later on today. If that's okay with you? I kinda...don't wanna be home."

I nod, "it's not a problem. We'll go together." I smile, and she gives me a half hearted attempt at one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sit awkwardly as Gwen is surrounded by her friends. There are a lot more of them than I realized. They're all huddled around her, offering apologies—some with tears in their eyes, others pulling her into tight hugs. I watch from the sidelines, feeling like I don't quite belong here. Beside me, Flash Thompson stands with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking about as out of place as I feel.

He glances at me, then clears his throat. "Hey... uh... I heard what happened with your Aunt. I'm sorry, man. Really."

I nod. "Yeah, thanks."

He shifts awkwardly, frowning as he looks away. "Look, I know I haven't always..." He stops, chewing over his words. "I know I've been an asshole. No real excuse for that. But what happened, with you and Gwen—it's tragic. And May... May's always been a good person. Same with Captain Stacy."

"He was," I murmur, the memories of both of them hitting harder than I expected.

Flash pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it. It's an Algebra test, the letter "C" circled in red at the top. "This—this is because of you, Parker. So, uh... thanks."

I blink at him, surprised. For the first time in... well, ever, it feels like there's been some kind of shift between us. Since elementary school, Flash has always had it out for me. He never gave me a reason, never explained why. The teasing started small, then came the shoving, the relentless bullying. That's just how it's always been between us. Until now, I guess.

Part of me wants to shrug off his apology, dismiss it. Does that make me a bad person? But the other part of me—the bigger part—realizes he's trying. He's making an effort. So I should, too. "No, Eugene," I say, nodding to the test in his hands. "I can teach you all day, but that's your name at the top of that paper, not mine."

He snorts. "Eugene, huh? Haven't heard that in a while."

I smile, glancing over at Gwen still with her friends. "I think it suits you."

Before he can fire back, Gwen walks up to me, a warm smile lighting her face. "Sorry about that," she says. "They wanted to go to the Burger Shack, but I told them I was spending the day with you."

My heart stumbles a little in my chest. She ditched her friends... for me? Being a boyfriend is awesome.

"Let me know if you ever need anything, Gwen. You too, Parker," Flash says, giving Gwen a half hug before nodding at me and vanishing into the crowd of students leaving the building.

As most of the students head out, Gwen suddenly grabs me, pulling me into a tight hug. Her face presses against my chest, and I feel her hands grip my back like she's afraid to let go. "Gwen?" I whisper, confused.

She doesn't answer, but I can feel the wetness of her tears soaking through my shirt. She's crying, and the weight of everything she's been holding in finally spills out. I rest my cheek on top of her head, holding her as close as I can. Letting her know, without saying a word, that as long as I'm here, she'll never have to face any of this alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sit quietly in the hospital room, Gwen leaning against my shoulder. She feels small and warm beside me, her fingers loosely linked with mine. For a moment, there's nothing else—just us, the faint hum of the hospital monitors, and the soft, steady beep from Aunt May's heart monitor. It keeps me grounded, but there's a twist of anxiety every time it reminds me how fragile this all is.

What if it stops?

"Peter?" Gwen's voice breaks through my thoughts.

"Yeah?" I whisper, looking down at her. Her blue eyes, as bright as ever, meet mine, filled with kindness that I'm not sure I deserve. What does she see in me right now? Does she see how messed up I am? Can she see the guilt that feels like it's burning through my skin?

"Do... do you think that all these bad things that keep happening...do you think there's a reason for it?" she asks softly.

The question catches me off guard. "I-I don't know," I say, which feels like the worst answer I could have given.

She frowns a little, like she's disappointed. "It just feels like... every time we turn around, something's threatening us, or someone's hurt. It can't just be coincidence, right? Maybe we're... cursed, or something. Bad luck just follows us everywhere."

Yeah. Bad luck—and its name is Peter Parker.

All of it comes rushing back. Doctor Connors, a man I could've helped, who ended up killing people because I failed him. Mac Gargan, who got away from me and almost killed Harry and Felicia. The Rhino tearing through the city because I was just a few seconds too slow. The Vulture at Oscorp, the massacre my classmates saw. Electro... a guy who I could've helped if I'd just paid attention.

And all the people I love—Felicia, Harry, Aunt May, Gwen. Captain Stacy.

How many times have I let them get hurt just by being near me? How many people have suffered because I decided to be Spider-Man?

Is this why I wear the mask? To drag my loved ones through hell? To fail everyone around me? To fail Uncle Ben's memory?

Goblin's still out there, and I don't know why he hates me or how far he's willing to go to prove it.

I fail.

I fail.

I fail.

"Peter," Gwen says, her voice gentle, then presses her lips against mine. The kiss is soft, lingering just a second, but it pulls me back from the edge. She gazes up at me, her eyes soft but sharp. "You've never been good at taking a compliment, so listen up: You're okay. You are enough. And not everything that goes wrong is Peter Parker's fault. For some reason, you always have this look on your face like you're carrying everyone's problems around on your shoulders, but you don't have to."

"Gwen, I—"

"I'm not done," she says, cutting me off with a small smile. "Maybe we're cursed. Maybe it's bad luck. But through it all, you're still here." She glances over at May's bed, then back at me. "And so am I. I know you feel guilty about everything. But please, don't."

I want to say something—to tell her how grateful I am, how I wish I could open up and tell her the truth about everything. But then there's that look on her face. She's been through enough. So how can I tell her now?

Especially since she probably thinks Spider-Man killed her father...

I'm about to say something when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Gwen raises an eyebrow, curious as I pull it out. It's a message from Felicia, an address, followed by another message:

Found Beck's home address. This took a while, but I guess knowing the wrong people can help sometimes. I know you told me to stay out of it, but I owe you. Do what you want with this.

I stare at the message, feeling Gwen's eyes on me as I process it. My brain scrambles, piecing together an excuse. "Is something wrong?" she asks.

"No, just..." I falter, the lie tangling on my tongue. I don't want to do this. But what choice do I have? "Felicia needs help taking some photos for the insurance company. It'll be quick, I promise."

Gwen nods, smiling. "Okay, I'll get my things, and we can—"

"No," I say quickly, probably too quickly. "It's fine. Just a quick thing. I'll be back in no time, and then we can do that Star Trek marathon?"

She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Alright. But don't keep me waiting too long, Mr. Parker."

I pull her into a hug, holding her close, trying to absorb her warmth, hoping it'll stay with me for whatever's next. I don't want to leave her side. This is all I want. But life... life doesn't always care about what we want.

I let go, taking one last look at her. "I'll see you soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Swinging through the city used to feel like freedom. Like I was untouchable, soaring between buildings, leaving everything that sucked behind. The wind in my face, the hum of traffic below—all of it used to be my escape. Now, I'm just... here. Going through the motions.

I reach the address Felicia texted me and check my phone one last time to be sure. Right place. I toss the phone in my backpack, webbing it to the wall. It's late, and the street below is empty, so no one notices Spider-Man gearing up for a bit of B&E.

The plan is... what, exactly? Politely ask Beck to remove the damning video that made everyone think Spider-Man killed Gwen's dad? Yeah, right. But this is all I've got to clear my name, so I'm going with it. Felicia's research made Beck look plenty suspicious, but I still have to be sure.

I crawl up to his window. The lights are off; doesn't look like anyone's home. Great. Now I'm a burglar.

The window is locked, but a little pressure opens it with a quiet pop, and I slip inside. The smell hits me first—stale, rotten, like garbage left out too long. I take a step and feel something squish underfoot.

Nope. I don't even want to know.

The place is a wreck: clothes scattered everywhere, dishes stacked up on the floor and dresser, junk piled up in the corners. Still, somehow, it's cleaner than Harry's room.

Moving quietly, I start my search. A desk by the wall, drawers stuffed with paperwork and odd electronics. Some of it might be useful, but it's all mixed in with junk—broken remotes, tangled cables, half-eaten bags of chips. After a few minutes of sifting, I pause. In the silence, a faint sound drifts from down the hall, like someone moving toward the room.

I tense, glancing around for cover. Quietly, I crawl up to the ceiling, tucking myself into the shadows near the corner. I watch as the door creaks open, and a figure in all black slips into the room, making a beeline for the computer on the desk.

They're fast, moving with a purpose. They settle in front of the computer, pulling a small drive from their pocket and plugging it in. I watch as they type, a few files popping up on the screen as they begin downloading them onto the drive. Whoever this is, they're definitely not here to straighten up the place.

The figure finishes the download and starts to turn. In the dim light, I finally get a good look at their face.

Felicia.

For a second, I'm too stunned to move. What's she doing here?

As she slips the drive into her pocket, her eyes sweep the room—then pause as she looks up. Our eyes lock. Caught in the act, I drop from the ceiling, landing silently behind her, arms crossed.

"Felicia." I keep my voice low, but she can't miss the tone. "Breaking and entering? Really?"

She smirks, slipping the drive deeper into her pocket. "But if I were wearing spandex and had a stupid name then it'd be okay?"

She's got me there. I sigh, glancing at the computer screen. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping you," she says, crossing her arms. "Whether you like it or not."

"I told you to stay out of this." I keep my voice low, but there's a hard edge to it. Felicia just rolls her eyes, arms crossed. "I'm serious, Felicia. People have gotten hurt... even died... getting involved in this stuff. And I won't—I can't let that happen again."

Her expression softens, her gaze holding mine. "For all your strength, Parker, you don't have to handle everything alone. You don't."

I open my mouth to respond, but a sudden beep from the computer interrupts us. A face appears on the screen—a man with slicked-back hair, staring directly into the camera with a smug grin. "Ah, okay, here we go. Can you both hear me?"

Felicia and I exchange wary glances before turning back to the screen.

"I'll take that as a yes," he says with a chuckle. "Mr. Osborn was right—you're quick to respond, Spider-Man. Though, I wasn't expecting a plus one," he adds, raising an eyebrow at Felicia. "But no matter."

"You're... Quentin Beck, aren't you?" I say, clenching my fists. "You made that fake video of me. Because of you, everyone thinks Spider-Man killed Captain Stacy."

He just smiles, folding his hands with deliberate calm. "Reality is whatever I want it to be. You see, once my breakthrough technology is funded, everyone will know my name. And all it took was a little creative editing." He laughs, the sound cold and sharp. "It's amazing, isn't it? How fast they turned on you? The hero who saved them over and over."

My fists tighten. "I'll make sure everyone knows the truth. I'll expose what you did. You won't—"

"Get away with it?" Beck finishes for me, sneering. "Yeah, yeah. You're so cliche you know that? Anyways, I have a job to do, and my employer? Not exactly the patient type."

I narrow my eyes. "Employer? You mean Norman Osborn, don't you?"

Beck smirks, leaning back as if savoring the moment. "Questions, questions... It doesn't matter anymore, you don't have to worry about a thing." He raises his hand toward the screen, eyes gleaming with malice. "Now... say cheese."

With a snap of his fingers, everything goes black