Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Your tears...
chapter: Your tears
.
.
.
.
.
.
I was somehow out of town. My cobwebs were no longer coming out and neither were my tears.
Peter's death left me mentally unstable. I had lost my best friend, confidant, and the only person who understood what it meant to fight for others.
Every moment, guilt and pain consumed me. Peter had always been a beacon of hope and kindness, and without him, I felt adrift.
He wandered the lonely streets of the suburbs, trying to make sense of a world that seemed darker and more hostile without him.
At night, while walking aimlessly, I found an old abandoned park. I sat on a rusty swing and let the weight of my sadness weigh me down. Memories of our childhoods together, times at school, his teachings in science, his encouraging words and his silly jokes flooded my mind.
"What would you do in my place, Peter?" I whispered into the wind, waiting in vain for an answer.
I knew I couldn't continue like this. Peter would never have wanted me to give up. She needed to find a way to move forward, to honor his legacy.
Suddenly, a noise behind me broke the silence. I stood up quickly, my senses still alert despite my emotional state.
A man, hooded and with an athletic figure, approached slowly. With a warning jingle in my head, I dodged the shot and rolled across the ground, landing in a defensive position.
The hooded man advanced, his footsteps echoing in the empty park. I quickly approached, doing somersaults and dodging all of his shots.
Finally, I disarmed him with a blow to the chest, sending his gun flying. The man staggered, surprised by my skill.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice steady despite the internal turmoil.
"Just a messenger," the man replied with a crooked smile.
"There are those who are interested in you." Before he could ask more, the man released a smoke bomb, disappearing into the thick fog.
I stood there, heart pounding, and realized this was just the beginning. There were people who were willing to confront me.
But now, more than ever, she was determined to move forward.
"Peter had left a legacy, and I had a responsibility to honor it. I remembered his words: "I-I just wanted to be special like your Gwen." I couldn't let his sacrifice be in vain.
From that moment on, I dedicated myself to arresting criminals in the suburbs while returning home.
I found an old warehouse to rest before returning, casting my cobwebs. The screens of the neon city showed images of Spider-Woman, accused of the attack on Midtown.
The news given by J.J. Jameson resonated everywhere, sowing doubt and distrust in the minds of the citizens.
My movements became more careful; I knew that every action could be misinterpreted and used against me.
Jameson, in his authoritative voice and sensational tone, narrated the events in a way that made me seem like a threat.
"The dangerous vigilante, known as Spider-Woman, was seen at the scene of the attack! Is she the real culprit? Can we trust these so-called heroes?" His voice echoed through the streets, and every word was a blow to my reputation.
I felt a mixture of frustration and sadness. Everything he had done until now seemed to be unraveled by a misinformation campaign.
But I couldn't let myself be defeated by the lies and media manipulation. I knew that the truth always comes to light, and my duty was to continue protecting the innocent, no matter the obstacles.
Returning to the streets, I heard a woman's cries for help in a dark alley. Without a second thought, I headed towards the sound, knowing it was my duty to intervene.
When I arrived, I saw two men attacking a young woman. My body moved on instinct, lunging at them and tackling them with a precision that only practice and pain could forge.
The young woman looked at me with gratitude and surprise.
"Who are you?" she asked with a trembling voice.
"I am the one and only Spider-Woman," I replied, helping her to her feet.
"And I will be here to protect you."
As he disappeared into the night, I felt stronger and more determined. Peter had started something big, and now it was my turn to continue his legacy. She was not alone; her spirit lived in every act of bravery and compassion.
With each person she saved, she honored their memory and moved toward a future in which her sacrifice would not be forgotten.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Now I find myself in the hospital, lost in my deepest thoughts. Had I somehow reincarnated into myself? Did I refuse to accept this new reality?...
No. The truth is that I only feel resigned to not having been able to say goodbye to Aunt May and anyone in my world, now there are only more regrets lies on my list.
But my desire to return to my world does not go away, with the help of a superhero like Spider-Woman I should be able to return to my reality if we contact a superhero like the Fantastic Four or the Avengers.
With the phone lost because when escaping the hospital gown it is useless to store things.
With my memories now in order, I take into account that the actions of the other Peter Parker could put me in jail if they discover the lizard serum in my blood and the murder of Flash Thompson.
Already being alone without Captain Stacy, with a firm resolve. I must find Spider-Woman and convince her to help me contact the heroes who can make my return possible.
But before I take any steps, I need to leave this hospital again without raising suspicion.
I realize that without the serum's abilities my body feels weak, this task has become much more complicated.
I take advantage of a round of nurses to sneak out of the room, walking carefully through the hallways, using every shadow and corner to avoid being seen.
Eventually, I reach an emergency exit. I take a breath of fresh air as I step out into the back alley.
The neon city seems immense and unknown, but I must move on. However, as I take my first steps, my legs tremble and I fall to the ground, drawing the attention of people on the street and a nurse who was passing by the emergency exit.
The nurse, a middle-aged woman with a worried expression, rushes towards me.
"Wait! Are you okay? Do you need help?" she asks, leaning towards me. I struggle to get up, my legs still unsteady.
"I'm... fine. I just need to... get out of here," she murmured, trying to maintain her composure.
"You can't leave like this, you're completely pale," she insists. "You need medical attention. Come, I'll help you get back inside."
"No," I say, shaking my head determinedly.
"I can't stay. There's something I have to do." The nurse hesitates, her eyes filled with concern and curiosity.
"At least let me help you get to a safe place. You can't walk around in this state." I accept her offer, allowing her to help me to my feet.
With her support, we walked slowly through the alley until we reached a small convenience store.
She sets me down on a bench outside the store and hands me a bottle of water.
"Take your time," she says softly.
"If you need anything else, I'm here to help you."
"Thank you," I reply, taking a sip of water.
"I appreciate it." As I rest on the bench, I watch people go by, the daily life of the neon city unfolding around me.
Bright lights and vibrant sounds create a surreal atmosphere. My mind is filled with thoughts about my mission and how I should proceed. After a few minutes, the nurse says goodbye, leaving me with one last piece of advice.
"Take care of yourself, and if you need to come back, the hospital is there for you." With renewed strength, I get up and start walking again. Every step is an effort, but
I can't allow myself to fail now. I have to find Spider-Woman and enlist her help in contacting heroes who might have the technology needed to return me to my world.
As I walk through the streets, I ask passersby if they have seen or heard of Spider-Woman.
Most of them look at me with distrust or indifference, but a young man, who seems to be a superhero fan, offers me a clue.
The boy's clue is of no use to me; The news says that she has escaped the crime scene and left town. Without the option of finding new information, I return in the direction of the hospital.
Taking fresh air as an excuse, I meet the same nurse, who looks at me with annoyance as she takes me back to the room.
Back in the room, I feel frustrated. It is not easy to accept the feeling of being trapped, both physically and emotionally.
Memories of Peter Parker, from my previous life, continue to haunt me. His teachings and his sacrifice drive me, but they also constantly remind me of what I have lost.
I spend the next few hours of the day in the hospital, regaining my strength and making plans in my mind.
The nurse, despite her initial anger, begins to show a more understanding attitude.
"I can see you have something important on your mind," she tells me as she changes the bandages on my arm.
"Would you like to talk about it?" "It's complicated," I respond, hesitating over how much I should reveal. "There are people who depend on me, and I'm trying to find a way to help them.
I need to contact someone important to me, but it seems almost impossible from here." The nurse nods slowly.
"It's not uncommon for people to need help finding a distant or missing relative. If you really need to find them, there may be another way." Her words light a spark hope in me.
"What is there another way besides the hospital system?" I ask, leaning towards her.
"There is a place in the hospital where they keep the new unused computers or the old ones, some residents usually use them and they leave messages and clues to joke around.It's not safe, but you might find something there with the internet. " I thank the nurse for the information.
With a new plan in mind, I decide that I must go to that hospital room once and for all. At night, when the lights go out and the hospital falls silent, I get out of bed and start to feel dizzy.
The news on the hospital's television shows images of Spider-Woman, accused of the Midtown attack.
The news given by J.J. Jameson resonated everywhere, sowing doubt and distrust in the minds of the citizens.
My legs shaking from the intense dizziness towards the bathroom. With pain she continues to hear the voice of the head of the Dayli Bugle, he narrated her events in a way that made her seem like a threat.
"The dangerous vigilante, known as Spider-Woman, was seen at the scene of the attack! Is she the real culprit? Can we trust these so-called heroes?" His voice echoed off the walls of my room as I approached the bathroom.
Entering the bathroom, I immediately head to the toilet and end up vomiting blood. To my horror, I notice that I have lost a tooth and, looking in the mirror, I see that my skin is beginning to fall apart.
Fear takes over me as I try to understand what is happening. The feeling of falling apart is terrifying, and I wonder if it's a reaction to the lizard serum I've carried inside me.
I try to stay calm, but the pain and fear are overwhelming. I hold on to the sink, breathing deeply to keep from panicking.
I need to find a solution, and fast. I wash my face with cold water, hoping that it will ease the feeling that my skin is melting, but it doesn't help much. Suddenly, the bathroom door moves was the nurse.
"Are you OK?" she asks, her voice filled with concern for my condition.
"No... nothing is wrong, just dizziness" she responded in a low voice, looking at the tooth I lost and the blood in the sink.
She walks away from the door seconds later, I'm left examining my face and the crumbling skin.
"This is not normal. I have to check the defective serum immediately." Without help, I stagger out of the bathroom.
The door holds me firmly, carrying me out of the bathroom. Despite the pain and fear, I know I must rely on my knowledge to find a solution.
I am surprised that when I lie down in bed my skin and teeth regenerate quickly.
Is this the serum curing me? What will happen when healing doesn't work? Will Dr. Connors be able to help me with this?
No...This appears to be an adverse reaction to an experimental serum. We need to stabilize it before it's too late. However, the fatigue and my energy are running out. As I heal, I feel my consciousness fading.
The pain is unbearable and the uncertainty about what is happening to me consumes me.
I fight to stay awake, knowing that my life depends on these moments.
The next few minutes are a blur of frenetic activity and hurried voices.
I feel needle pricks in my body remaking my flesh from scratch.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
As I swing through the city with my webs, the screens of unmistakable colors reflect my shadow.
Returning home, my worries for my father, not knowing my whereabouts since Peter's passing, overwhelm me. I haven't spoken to him since that event.
Pulling out my phone and checking my messages, I find myself in shock. Tears come out of my eyes and I fall onto a nearby rooftop.
The message said that Peter had miraculously entered surgery and hours later he had woken up. The message I receive is like lightning in a clear sky. Peter, he's still alive.
I feel overwhelmed by a mix of emotions: relief, joy, but also confusion and worry. How could he have survived? Where have you been all this time? Why hasn't he contacted me? Tears blur my eyes as the reality of the situation sinks in.
For so long, he had thought Peter was dead, that he would never see him again. And now, suddenly, the possibility opens up that he is alive and safe. I sit on the roof, trying to process this news.
The city lights shine around me, but my mind is somewhere else. I have to find Peter, I have to make sure he's okay.
Tears blur my eyes as I read and reread the message over and over again, as if to make sure I'm not dreaming.
The news that my best friend, my confidant, is still alive is overwhelming and full of hope. But it also awakens a whirlwind of emotions within or from me.
Quickly, she dialed Dad's number, her hands shaking with excitement. I wait anxiously as the phone rings, wondering what I'll say when he finally answers.
Finally, a familiar voice rings on the other end of the line. "Hello daughter?" he says, his tone full of surprise and concern.
"D-Dad, it's me," I say, fighting to keep the sob from my voice.
"It's me, Gwen, how...how's Peter?" There's a tense silence on the other end of the line, and I can hear his labored breathing as he processes my words.
"Peter," he finally murmurs, his voice shaking with emotion.
"He's here recovering, very well. It's a long story, but he won't be able to see you until the doctor says so." Words are like a balm for my wounded soul.
Peter is alive, he is fine. A wave of relief and happiness washes over me, and tears flow freely down my cheeks as I listen to the voice on the other end of the line.
"I know, you must be distraught Gwen, but you have to wait a little, daughter," he responds, his voice soft and comforting. "Now that it's okay we'll meet again, and that's what matters"
We chatted for a few minutes, catching up on everything that has happened since we thought he had died.
And as I hear the call stop on the other end of the line, I know everything will be okay.
I slowly sit up on the roof, my thoughts racing at a mile an hour. I have to see him, make sure he's okay. With a mix of adrenaline and excitement, I launch myself into the void again, swinging with my cobwebs in the direction of the hospital.
Buildings pass me in a blur, but my mind is focused on one thing: getting to Peter. The wind whips my face as I move quickly, weaving between the skyscrapers.
The city that once seemed oppressive now feels like a race against time, every second counts. As I approach the hospital, my senses sharpen, and finally, I glimpse the building in the distance. I land in a nearby alley, my heart racing.
I unhook my webs and slip into the shadows, finding a poorly guarded side entrance to change.
I enter quietly, moving through the hospital corridors like a ghost. Antiseptic smells and the constant sound of medical monitors fill the air, but my focus is on one thing: Peter's room.
After what seems like ages, it's finally here. My hand trembles as I cautiously open the door, and there he is, lying on the bed, surrounded by medical equipment.
His eyes are closed, but his breathing is steady and steady. I approach slowly, trying not to make noise.
I can't stop the tears from coming again, this time of relief and gratitude.
"Peter..." I whisper, coming to his side. His face looks pale, but there is a calmness about him that comforts me. A nurse enters the room and looks at me sympathetically.
"He's been asking about you," she says quietly.
"He's a fighter, that boy." I nod, unable to find the right words. I sit in a chair next to his bed, holding his hand gently. The tears fall silently, a flood of relief and gratitude.
"Peter, I don't know how you did it," I say, my voice cracking with emotion.
"But I'm so happy you're here." We spent a few moments in silence, with only the sound of the monitors filling the room.
Finally, Peter opens and closes his eyes without waking up. A weak smile appears on his face.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
As I become aware of the new day that greets me with its dawn, I find Mr. Stacy and Gwen asleep in the room. The moment I yawn, Gwen lunges toward me in tears, hugging me tightly as she repeatedly mutters "sorry" between sobs.
I am surprised by her reaction, without fully understanding what is happening.
"I have so much to talk about, Peter," she said, her voice shaking with emotion.
"So many things have happened since... since then" Mr. Stacy, seeing the scene, stands up with a confused and worried expression.
"Gwen, what's going on?" Mr. Stacy asks, approaching us cautiously. Between sobs, Gwen manages to articulate a few words.
"I thought I would never see you again. I thought they had taken you, like... Dad," she says, her voice breaking with emotion and fear. I'm beginning to understand.
Gwen has been through some tough times, and my disappearance has affected her deeply. I feel guilty for not having realized her suffering sooner.
I hug her tenderly, trying to convey tranquility and support. Mr. Stacy looks at us with concern, but also with relief to see that I am back.
"I'm here, Gwen. Don't worry," he murmured, stroking her hair gently.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm fine. Please let me wipe away your tears..."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
H_ell
H_ell a
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
I tagged this book, come and support me with a thumbs up!
Like it ? Add to library！
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone