you're bringing me back to life

Closed Starter: @ghostthwip | “ I’m not like you.”

Mary-Jane didn’t know why hearing those words hurt her but they did. Maybe it was because of everything that happened with the Gwen she knew but she had to remind herself: this isn’t the same person. She had been closed friends, albeit at a time she had been jealous of her when it came to a certain relationship with a certain web-head, with this timelines Gwen before the incident happened. But this was another Gwen, one who had suffered something MJ would never wish on anyone. “Are you just saying that because of the whole time thing? Because honestly it’s good you’re not anything not like me. I have a lot of stress thanks to my boss and don't even get me started on the stuff outside of work.” She mentioned to her. She almost wanted to spill out more but MJ held herself back.

MJ was a familiar and warm presence that Gwen had missed dearly, but just like with everyone else, she had to remind herself that this wasn’t the Em Jay that she knew. The one who was the vocalist of the band she dearly missed and apart of a world she had decided upon leaving behind. (Often Gwen wondered if her friends wondered where she went--if they cared. Of course they cared, why wouldn’t they? It was Spider-Woman the world wouldn’t miss. She was a murderer in their eyes after all. They weren’t exactly wrong in that assumption. It was an accident, she didn’t know, but it made her a murderer all the same.)

Sometimes, New York still felt strange. Rictor had been living here for years now, had had a semi-permanent home in the city for longer than he’d ever had one anyplace else save his family’s home in Mexico, but there were days he still felt like a tourist. There were days he still looked at all the people rushing around and was met with a heavy, painful certainty that he didn’t belong. It always put him on edge just a little, always left him tense and hyper-aware of everything going on around him. And sometimes, that hyper-awareness came in handy. 

Like, for example, when a stranger stepped out in front of a car.

For a moment, the world stood still and Rictor thought back to himself standing on the edge of a roof, one foot hanging over the edge. He thought of the empty gun he waved at the armed cops screaming at him, of Guido’s quiet, steady voice from the front seat of the car. He thought of the times he’d stood on the edge of the sidewalk and considered taking a step a moment too soon so that people could tell themselves it was an accident. But… This girl’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open and this wasn’t intentional. And Rictor wasn’t a hero, but he was standing within arm’s length and it was instinct to reach out and yank her backwards.

The world started moving again in a heartbeat. The car sped on by blowing its horn, pedestrians walked on by as if nothing had happened as all, and the woman turned towards him. “Sure,” Rictor replied with a shrug, suddenly uncomfortable in his skin as he shifted his weight between his feet. “No problem.”

***

It was embarrassing how caught in her own head Gwen got. She was adjusting. There was a temptation to go see this world’s George Stacy. She hadn’t hugged her dad in such a long time, she practically ached for it. The mere thought threatened to make tears rise to her eyes and spill over. She didn’t want to torture him like that though. To see your dead daughter standing before you after so many years, older than you last saw her? All because she was selfish enough to want any contact with a form of her father after failing to save him. Maybe the sentiment was returned on his end, to see his daughter again may be a blessing even if it wasn’t the version of her he knew. Regardless, she didn’t think it was a very smart idea. Or a kind one at that.

It was thoughts like this that whirled around in her head and got her five seconds from turning into a pancake on the New York City sidewalk. Embarrassing. 

He and Cassie were, well, things didn’t look good at the moment, and the more he thought about it the more it felt like his fault, even if Erik had assured him that it wasn’t, not really. Still, his eyes dropped as he made his way through the tougher parts of the city, his all-night patrol doing nothing to quiet his mind, instead leaving him alone with his thoughts for far longer than was probably healthy. 

The very thought of doing patrols alone would have never crossed his mind six months ago, and now, well everything seemed so staunchly different now than it had then. Harsher, less simple. 

He didn’t know that his entire perspective on life could change more than it had when he had died, but, life was always full of surprises. 

He watched from on high as a man scurried away from the corner shop, his hands full of necessities and his eyes wide and darting. The bodega owner was chasing after him best that he could and Kon knew that, if worse came to worst, he would step in and allow the man to leave. He needed the food, obviously. The fact that he needed to steal it only struck Kon as incredibly sad. 

He floated down, his head tilted as he watched the woman do something unexpected. 

She pressed money into the man’s hands, her voice soft and gentle as she assured him that he was okay. It was the kind of empathy he hadn’t seen in, god, he couldn’t even remember another time he had seen someone so casually kind. 

She spun and his hands flew up, his fingers spread and his palms facing her as he laughed. “One of ‘em,” he shrugged, his hands worming their way back into his pockets as his feet touched down onto the damp pavement, “the better dressed one, obviously.” 

He leaned against the brick of the alleyway, his eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses as he watched her stutter and trip over he words before breaking into a large grin. “Ballet chic, huh? Very cool. Seems fitting for someone like you.” 

He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh, “It was really nice, what you did for that guy. Not a lot of people would have let him go.” 

“I mean, no offense but capes are not it,” Gwen commented with a snort. It was easy to forget how charming Superboy had been—had been being the key word. He hadn’t...well, hadn’t exactly been alive in her universe. There was a big fight with another Superboy it seemed and she had seen the reports after of his death. She had seen the way Wonder Girl and Robin clung onto each other, devastation painted over their features. Maybe this version of him never knew the touch of death, or maybe he did but he was the one who got to come back unlike her dimension’s own Superboy. 

Like how she was the one to live while this Gwen Stacy laid in a grave while Peter grieved for her instead of the other way around.

“Thanks. I, uh—I do it in my spare time. Used to at least. Kinda hard to do it these days.” Gwen admitted, missing the way dancing made her felt while she lost herself in the movements. “I kinda like having a piece of it with me at least. Maybe I’ll get back to it one day. Maybe I’ll also stop rambling about stupid shit—” she couldn’t help her little snort and shaking her head, glad her mask was hiding the way heat rose to her cheeks. 

“Oh. Well, it was food. He needed it. People shouldn’t have to steal to be able to feed themselves. It’s not right that our government refuses to help people who need it. Or people—rich people—don’t help when they have more than enough money to end hunger. It’s utter bullshit.” Gwen shook her head, letting out a huff. It made her sick knowing that people could help but refused to. That people like that man were just wanting to be able to feed themselves or their family and had to stoop down to taking. She didn’t feel it was right to stop him when all he wanted was a neccesity. 

[ @ghostthwip​ ]

Save a black and white for a jet-lagged friend, he’d said. Come by the bakery, she’d said, but only if you can beat me up. 

Was Peter confident he could best Gwen Stacy in a fight? Decently. If he’d learned anything while he was gone, it was that he was strong. Stronger than he’d realized. His punches landed too often and too hard, but they landed. Admittedly, he’d never fought her; didn’t know if he wanted to at all. Rationally, he knew she wasn’t the same Gwen he’d lost, knew that she was plenty strong and plenty capable and plenty alive, but their faces were so similar. Too similar.

He’d seen pain on that face before. He’d seen betrayal. He’d seen death.

Even joking, he didn’t know he could do it.

But, jet-lagged and exhausted and waiting for the other shoe to drop (because it would, it always did, he knew he had hours, days at best before something from London caught up with him), he needed to see a friend. And if that friend had cookies for him, even better.

So Peter wound his way to the bakery, jacket pulled tight around him. It had gotten cold while he’d been gone, and the warm air and smell of baking bread enveloped him immediately. He pulled off his hat, smoothed out his hair, saw her, and smiled.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m here to see a girl about a coffee? I hear it’s pretty good.”

***

Gwen wasn’t sure if Peter would actually show up. He had just gotten back and was being entirely too cryptic. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, of him. It worried her. To be fair, most things about this world’s Peter worried her. Not that she would admit it, but she had nightmares that she’d thrown the world out of whack by purely being here in the place of the Gwen who had once been here and something would happen because of her. Something terrible. Bad luck seemed to follow her like an omen. She could only hope it didn’t follow her to this universe as well.

The bell above the door rang out with the rush of cold air that was brought in by the door opening. Gwen turned around and couldn’t help her smile when she saw Peter standing before her, something shifting and the anxiety feeling less pronounced. He was okay. She knew he was okay, but also to see it with her own two eyes made her feel a lot better. “You came just in time. I think I can manage that. Maybe with some black and white cookies as requested. I’m feeling pretty giving to do it without the fight.” He looked like he had enough of a fight while he was MIA.

Moving around the counter, Gwen hesitated for a moment before stepping forward to give him a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said quietly, “you know you don’t have to do stuff alone right? We’ve got your back, super spy.” Pulling back, Gwen tugged at an errant curl with an amused grin. “Anything you can actually tell me or is it all secrets?”

          Even if there wasn’t a major member of the Rogues Gallery threatening to poison the water supply for the hundredth time, there were always small crimes to stop. Drug store robberies, your average purse-snatcher, and the worst offenders: the Predator. All they wanted was the pride of fear. Most of them probably worked for one of the higher-ups, being more on the goon side than their own personal boss, but there was nothing that felt better than taking out a handful of idiots trying to crowd a helpless civilian. Tim had been looking for some action when he’d heard the menacing cackles, the whimpers, the-

          The thwip of a webshooter. White lenses squinted at the sky, a figure dropping into the alley he’d been bee-lining to. He really didn’t want Gotham to start having a spider problem…

          Without a second to lose, the bird tumbled his way to the concrete, blindly pushing the other hero behind him, silently glaring at the group in front of them before going on the attack. Fools who didn’t think to run at the first sight of a mask, they fell one by one, taking hits that would no doubt five them something to think about in the morning. He was almost starting to have fun when the voice behind him started again. “Maybe,” he replied a bit too cooly, turning to look over his shoulder with a pronounced froun. Jeez, he felt like Bruce. “Not sure how you Bugs fare against Gotham’s brand of criminal, though.” His covered eyes searched her face, her mask, trying to find something as familiar as the tone in her voice. Robin… “Red Robin,” Tim corrected, twisting the staff to collapse back into it’s stowable state, hooking it to the back of his belt. “And, uh… You are?”

***

It was incredibly awkward even despite the frustration that Gwen felt quickly seeping out of her instead being replaced with embarrassment. This was a doozy try to explain whatsoever. No one exactly was going to take the whole, ‘hey sorry I’m from another dimension and actually know you really well where I’m from!’ thing at face value. Especially someone like Tim. If he was anything like her dimension’s Tim then he would squint her and give her that disbeliving look. He had no reason to believe her here. He had no idea who she was.

“Red Robin? Since when?” Gwen couldn’t help but ask instead. “Were you craving a change? Red Robin, yum.” She joked, unable to help herself as a snicker escaped her with her hand going to cover her mask covered mouth. “Do you get that a lot? I’m sure you do. It’s still funny.” Now she was rambling, stalling. “Okay, okay. Don’t glare at me. I get it. I just—it’s a long story. I’m Ghost-Spider. I’m not exactly from, uh, well. This world. Different dimension and all sorts of fun stuff. Hard to believe, I know. You’re probably abount to start some science presentation on the different dimensions, right? Total Robin move.”

A pause then Gwen sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides. “I know you, well. My old world’s version of you.”

In 2099, Miguel lived in a penthouse. He was so far above the city streets that he couldn’t hear the public eye dragging people away, couldn’t hear the Rapture addicts choking on their vomit in the alleys, couldn’t hear the screams of the people who found themselves on the wrong side of the gangs. That was intentional. It was easier to live with yourself, he’d found, when you were too far away to help people who needed help. It was easier to make excuses. His apartment in Washington Heights was on the second floor of a two story building. He could hear the streets below. He could see the flashing lights out the window. He could not make excuses. 

That didn’t mean someone knocking on his window was to be expected. This apartment was a lot closer to the ground than the one he’d lived in in 2099, but it was still high enough that no one ought to be able to get to the window. Of course, when the people you hung around with had wall-crawling powers, he figured all bets were off. Walking over to the window, he was only mildly surprised to see the white costume of Ghost Spider instead of Peter’s red one. He might not know her as well as he knew other members of the ‘team,’ but they’d hung around in the aftermath of enough battles that it wasn’t too surprising to see she’d figured out where he lived. “Gwen,” he repeated, remembering the girl Peter had added to the group chat. “Right. I’m Miguel. Guess you figured that out.” He paused for a moment, glancing to the bakery box before shrugging and pushing the window the rest of the way open, stepping aside so she could drop in. “What kind of cupcakes?”

***

Gwen smiled when he pushed the window the rest of the way open and crawled into the apartment, landing on her feet and pulling her mask off fully. “Red velvet. It’s just a fancy chocolate cupcake, I know, but you can’t beat the cream cheese frosting. Also I feel like the red food dye really gives it something special, but that’s probably my brain just telling me I only like it because it’s colored a fun color.” She prattled on easily, opening the bakery box so that she could offer him one of the dozen cupcakes she had made. 

“Sorry to just drop by, uh, well. Unannounced even though I didn’t really have a way to let you know in the first place, I just—” Gwen sighed and her shoulders slumped a bit, “you get it. The whole...being displaced thing. I did this on purpose, it was my choice, but it’s still really...surreal. My Peter, he—” her breath seized in her chest. It never stopped feeling like a punch straight to her chest every time she thought about Peter. “He died. He’s been dead for years now and to see him alive and like me is just...really weird. It’s really weird. I’m still trying to adjust and I just guess I wanted to be instead of what people expect me to be. Some version of the girl they lost.”

Zatanna was flipping through dimensions, trying to find this bastard and praying that whatever it was doing, wasn’t about to royally fuck up everything in existence across the multiverse. But each time she slipped through the cracks and came back out, the damn thing was gone. But here? She stepped through a portal onto a rooftop that was in… a familiar city. There were a few subtle differences, but the one that Zatanna was concerned about, was the energy she had been tracking. And as far as she could tell, it was still there. Lingering in this dimension. It was there.

Her focus was broken immediately. Another figure in a suit that was spider themed. (How many were there?) She didn’t get much time to question how many spiders in how many different universes there were before the girl pulled down her mask as quickly as she could and addressed Zatanna. There was grief in her voice. Something strangling her from the inside.

“I mean… if it makes you feel better, you’re not too far off.” She took a step forward, her hands up to show she wasn’t holding a weapon. “I’m not from this dimension and I’m not… human either.” Part human, but the other part of her took up every corner of her life it was hard to tell that any part of her was human. (No matter how much she loved her father, it was clear which way her blood pulled — what made her as powerful as she was.) “But I’m also not looking for a fight. Not with you at least.”

Her hands slowly dropped. “I’ve been following something else, from my dimension here. I’m not above a team up as long as you promise not to web me, or… whatever you were planning on doing there.” A short beat passed before Zee tipped her head to the side, “Are you okay?”

“Ah. Why not? New dimensions, just another Thursday.” Gwen grumbled tiredly and could feel the wariness of it seeping down to her bones. It was a kind of tiredness that had stayed with her ever since she was given these powers. There was this responsibility that she hadn’t expected—wanted. She didn’t take it seriously at first. What kid would? She wanted the fame, the love that would come from her noriarity. Then it all came crashing down on her when she held Peter in her arms as he took shaky breaths—

I just wanted to be special like you—

No, not now.

Gwen shook her head and grimaced beneath her mask. “Sure. You don’t feel like a threat—not that you aren’t. I mean, you just created a portal from another dimension and are part human, pretty badass, but you get what I mean. You aren’t, uh, whatever. I’m rambling.” Gwen let out a long breath, shrugging her shoulders. “I wasn’t doing anything,” except debating getting the nerve to the grave of her best friend, but that wasn’t exactly small talk between strangers.

Though, the simple question of ‘are you okay?’ was enough to throw Gwen completely off. It was easy to ignore it and ignore the frequent ache that filled her chest and threatened to splinter into a thousand pieces. It was easier to pretend she was okay. 

[ @ghostthwip ]

( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): hey i have no idea if time works the same between dimensions but? happy birthday i think! ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): it is your birthday right ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): i mean i know obviously it’s hers ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): was hers? [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): is a cake in order

🥇 a supportive text. // @ghostthwip

(✉️ ➡️ Gwen S.): Those muffins you had out yesterday were great! Like, the best muffins I’ve ever had! (✉️ ➡️ Gwen S.): You should go on one of those shows. The ones where you make food!  (✉️ ➡️ Gwen S.): I bet I could help you get on one!

The decision was one Gwen had hesitated on, face to face with a man who had an alarmed look on his face and various food items in his arms. She heard the distinct shouting from the bodega shop owner about catching the guy who had taken food from his shop. “Hey, it’s okay.” She said gently, “go ahead. You need it, yeah? I got you covered. Here--” she didn’t tend to keep much in the suit but she usually took some money with her to hide on her person for a snack run while patrolling. “Take this too. Just in case. Be safe, okay?”

Turning back once she had made sure the man had left without being seen, she felt her senses going haywire and snapped her head to the side, ready to web whoever was near when she saw Superboy. 

“Superboy?” Gwen blurted out in surprise, “I didn’t know you were--” she faltered, shaking her head. Now was totally not the time to go on about the differences between this world and her own. The one she had left behind. She had to forget about it, she wasn’t going back there. “I like the uh jacket. Very fashion forward.” Instead of the black and red shield she was used to seeing. “A great decision, really. You gotta add a little flair to the suit after all.” She lifted her leg, toes pointed, showing off the blue ballet shoes.

☢ for a snarky text or $ for a lying text || @ghostthwip

( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): before you or anyone else fucking starts ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): i’m fine! i’m great!  ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): i’m just laying some groundwork to scare off tony’s new wife ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): that’s it. ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): promise.

☼ for a joking text // @ghostthwip

(✉️ ➡️ the best twencen spider): does your dimension suck as bad as this one? (✉️ ➡️ the best twencen spider): kidding! love it here. having a great time. (✉️ ➡️ the best twencen spider): unrelated, but i’m going to be climbing to the top of the empire state building and screaming (✉️ ➡️ the best twencen spider): for personal reasons (✉️ ➡️ the best twencen spider): if you want to come

Gwen had met Miguel a few times before this. It wasn’t hard to notice the other Spider-Man running, well swinging, around New York City amidst her search for the OG. It had been as surprise encounter, Gwen stuttering slightly underneath her white mask and trying to explain who she was without giving too much away. There was a silent friendship that had seemed to form between them and she was glad for that. Especially after she was introduced into the group chat and she had seen he was there, even if he didn’t know it was her initially. 

It had taken some digging to find where Miguel lived, but it was doable. She decided, of course, the window was the best approach at getting indoors. In her uniform, a backpack on her shoulders and a pink bakery box in one hand, Gwen knocked on the window pane insistently until he came to the window. Pushing her mask up, Gwen smiled sheepishly. “Surprise. Hi, uh, so I’m Gwen. Nice to meet again properly and all, I brought you cupcakes. Can I come in?” 

( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): oh god [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): fuck [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): if anyone would understand [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): i saw your face again. her face. yours. hers. the first one. you know what i mean. [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): i saw your/her face on top of hers. instead of hers. just for a second. the alley was the bridge again and you/she looked so still and i was too late because i’m always too late because this is all my fault it’s always my fault gwen don’t you know that [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): mj got lucky. you didn’t. [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): i’m the reason there’s a headstone where gwen stacy should be [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): and it almost happened again tonight and i can’t do this anymore i won’t do this anymore i can’t let this keep happening [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): god fuck what am i doing [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): i’m sorry [unsent] ( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): tell her i love her [unsent]

[ … ]

( 📩 → gwen 2.0 ): [ read. ]

Swinging through New York City had become sort of Gwen’s catharsis. She could go swinging and for the time being, forget about all the guilt that plagued her. Forget that she was filling the shoes of a ghost here. (She had thought about going to...her grave here, but had ultimately put it off. It wasn’t a good idea. Not now anyways.) It wasn't exactly the same in Gotham. She had memories from the Gotham on her Earth. The friendship she had formed with Robin through helping him out in a bind despite how clearly wary he was of adding another powered friend to his roster he already had. She missed taking the ferry across the bay and being able to talk to Robin—to Tim. It had taken him time, but he had finally give a name and a face to the Robin persona. Just like she had taken off her own mask after far too long.

Not having friends was easier. Everyone she came across she had hurt, but maybe this time was different? He was a hero. He could protect himself. That’s what she told herself at least. Had. Had told herself. Guess it didn’t matter now that she didn’t live there anymore. 

She shouldn’t be in Gotham, but nostalgia brought her here. Gwen swung from the old buildings, seeing the smog and blurred city lights rush past her until she landed in an alleyway to take a quick breather and asses what she wanted to do next. That was, until she apparently interrupted a mugging and the guys turned their attention on her. “Alright, boys. Let’s leave the poor college student alone—” They got a new addition in the form of a man wielding a staff and promptly shoving her behind him to take care of the men.