Z. GWEN / HEY GUYS.

“Aw, c’mon, dude. I just spent the last month brainwashed in some freaky town. I don’t need this. Also — the symbiote never smells.”

Just because she’s used to seeing to seeing Peter’s out in the wild doesn’t mean that he’s used to seeing a Gwen. As a rule of thumb, she has to tread carefully around Peter’s the first time they meet. “The sheer number of you is wild, man. I meet more Peter’s than anyone else.” Walking down the side of the building, Gwen offers a hand. “Gwen Stacy. But, I feel like you already know that.”

The closest Gwen’s ever come to retiring is when she lost her powers, but even then she couldn’t stand being away from it all. “I don’t know how you do it. Even with all this recent mess, I still know that I wouldn’t be able to sit out.” Maybe she should, though. Take some time post Pleasant Hill to rest up and reassess. Gwen knows herself. She knows she won’t. 

“I heard he had something to do with Pleasant Hill. This Kingpin, not Murderdock. Funding it or something. I’m not totally sure. They didn’t tell us a lot when they discharged us. I’ve had to figure everything out on my own. Which, for the record, hasn’t been easy.”

Any time Gwen is separated from her symbiote, they have to reacclimatize to one another. It usually doesn’t take long, but her mind is uneasy and the suit is reacting to that. “Come again?” She asks, brushing a spider off of her shoulder. They’re way too prominent. Get it under control, get it under control. “Medical. Hill? I heard she got stomped on. Literally.” It’s not like she doesn’t deserve it.

“Yeah? Looks like he’s always a sore subject, then. Any guy who calls himself that is bad news. I called my Matt Muderdock once, but he liked it. You two do seem pretty different. Thank god for that, right?”

“She looks great.” Gwen replies honestly. “Are the other cabs dirty? I’ve got no idea what the cab competition scene looks like.”

“Yes. A college student at Empire State.” Now she’s oversharing. Back it up, back it up. “Nice to meet you, too. It was, um, my new years resolution to meet more new people.” That explains the oversharing, right? “Don’t worry about it. My reflexes are usually better.”

Standing on the side of the building, blonde hair hung in Gwen’s face before she brushed it to the side. “Another day, another Peter Parker.” She hummed. “There’s no end of you guys, is there?”

“Maybe? I hear college professors are nicer than high school teachers. I can always float the idea past Peter. He is my advisor, after all.” Which was useful. He could make excuses for her when Gwen’s life as Ghost Spider was too much. Closing her textbook, she propped her head up on her hand. “Why do we do this again? Is getting punched all the time not good enough?”

“I didn’t say you were.” Gwen held her hands up. “Stand down, dude. It’s just weird to see your face. He’s, like, super sadistic. Blackmail, murder, extortion. The whole nine years. He’s Kingpin.” 

Well, shit. Gwen quickly shook her head, one hand rising to adjust her black headband. “I -- what?? Me?? Nah. I’m a college student. That’s who I am. Gwen Stacy. That’s my name.” She laughed, forced. “Yep.” What the actual hell, Stacy??

“Just one guy in a sea of many red suits.” Gwen corrected him. She knocked his shoulder with her own. “Me? Miss you. Impossible. Nah, I would. Don’t tell anyone, but I like you.”

“She looks great. Did you remodel her yourself?” George Stacy was the kind of guy who wanted to get into cars but never had time. Ben Parker had fixed his car up once and wanted Peter to help. What ended up happening was Gwen assisted him while Peter read on the side. The memory brought a smile to her face.

“We are getting graded on this, you know.” Gwen gestured down towards the chemistry textbook. “And I don’t think they’re going to count superheroing as a good excuse as to why all the answers are all wrong.” Did it hurt to see Peter after losing her own? Of course. It reminded her of the fact that her Peter would never go to college or run the risk of failing a test. He was forever trapped at seventeen, a snapshot of a boy no longer present.