A Growing Awareness
Peter stepped into Midtown High, the usual buzz of the school day washing over him. But today, it felt different. Everything felt different. Since Monday's field trip, a strange tingling had been settling in the back of his mind, a persistent buzzing that made the world seem sharper, clearer. He tried to shake it off, convinced it was just in his head—maybe a lingering side effect from the bite.
But he wasn't the only one feeling it.
Across the school, Gwen Stacy was navigating the hallways with an odd sense of unease. Every so often, that same buzzing would flare up, like a distant alarm going off in her head. She hadn't said anything about it, not even to Peter. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was everything. She wasn't sure.
As the week rolled on, both Peter and Gwen had tried to play it cool, brushing off their newfound instincts as stress or a weird coincidence. But as they continued to notice subtle changes in themselves and in each other, it became harder to ignore.
By the time lunch rolled around on Friday, Peter was making his way to his locker, keeping his head down as usual. He hadn't had any major run-ins with Flash since Monday, and part of him was hoping the bully had finally moved on. But as he rounded the corner, that familiar buzzing started again, stronger this time. He didn't need to look up to know what was coming.
"Hey, Parker!" Flash Thompson's voice boomed from across the hall.
Peter's heart rate picked up, but not out of fear. His senses had already warned him of Flash's approach, his footsteps heavy and confident as he closed the distance. Peter's muscles tensed, instinctively ready to move—to dodge, to evade, to stop this before it started. He could feel every detail in the air, every movement in the hallway, and knew exactly where Flash was going to shove him.
But Peter paused, forcing himself to stay still. He knew that avoiding Flash would only draw more attention, more questions. He could take the hit. In fact, he needed to take it. Flash couldn't hurt him anymore, not really, but Peter wasn't ready to reveal just how much had changed.
Flash grabbed the front of Peter's shirt and shoved him against the lockers, the sound echoing down the hallway. To anyone watching, it looked like the usual routine—Flash dominating the skinny, awkward kid. But to Peter, the force was barely noticeable, more like a breeze than a shove.
"You gonna say something, Parker?" Flash sneered, leaning in closer, his hot breath in Peter's face. The buzzing in Peter's head grew louder, telling him to move, to fight back. But he didn't.
Instead, Peter glanced around, trying to make it seem like he was more rattled than he felt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gwen watching from a few lockers down, her expression shifting. For a split second, her eyes narrowed, and Peter swore he saw her stiffen, almost as if she could sense what was happening.
Unbeknownst to Peter, she could. Gwen's own buzzing had started the moment Flash grabbed Peter, a faint but unmistakable alarm that something was wrong. She hadn't fully grasped what it meant yet, but there was no doubt in her mind—it was because of Peter. And she couldn't stand by and do nothing.
"Leave him alone, Flash," Gwen said, stepping forward, her voice sharp but calm.
Flash turned, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Oh, look, Parker's got himself a bodyguard now."
"More like someone with common sense," Gwen shot back, standing her ground. "Why don't you try picking on someone who'll actually fight back?"
Flash's smirk faltered. Gwen wasn't backing down, and something about her confidence—about the way she held herself—made him hesitate. She seemed different. Everyone could feel it, even if they couldn't explain it.
Peter stood straighter, surprised by Gwen's intervention but also... grateful. There was something about the way she spoke to Flash, the way she moved—like she knew she had the upper hand even if Flash didn't. And she was taller, too. Peter hadn't noticed it until now, but Gwen was definitely a couple of inches taller than she'd been last week. So was he.
Flash huffed, glancing between Peter and Gwen, clearly annoyed that his usual tactics weren't working. "You're lucky, Parker," he muttered, giving Peter one more shove, though it was half-hearted. "I've got better things to do."
As Flash walked away, the tension in the hallway eased. Peter let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck, even though the shove hadn't hurt. Gwen stood next to him, her expression softening.
"You okay?" she asked.
Peter nodded, trying to play it off. "Yeah... I'm fine. Thanks for that."
Gwen shrugged, but there was a knowing look in her eyes. "No problem. Flash needs to learn when to quit."
They fell into step together, heading toward their next class. Peter couldn't help but notice how easily Gwen had defused the situation. There was something different about her this week—something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But then again, he was different too. And she'd noticed it, hadn't she? The way he'd handled Flash was different than usual. They both knew it, even if they didn't want to say it out loud.
Over the next few days, Peter and Gwen adjusted to their new realities. Each morning brought new discoveries—Peter's increased height, the slight enhancements to his strength and reflexes. His hands still stuck to things if he wasn't careful, but by mid-week, he'd figured out how to control it better. He practiced late at night, testing the limits of his agility, his endurance. Every day, it felt like he was learning something new about what his body could do.
Gwen, too, had spent the week quietly experimenting with her newfound abilities. She was faster than she used to be, stronger too, and her senses were sharper—like she could hear conversations across the room, see details that others missed. But more than that, she was starting to understand the strange tingling sensation she got whenever Peter was in danger. It was like an instinct, warning her when something was wrong. She hadn't figured it all out yet, but she knew it was connected to what had happened at the lab.
By Friday afternoon, Peter and Gwen found themselves side by side in their shared science class, working on their project. The room was quiet, save for the occasional scrape of pencils or the low hum of conversation from the other students. It felt like a typical day at school—at least, on the surface.
As they sat together, Peter couldn't help but steal a glance at Gwen. Something had changed this week. She seemed... different. Maybe it was the way she moved, more assured, or how her focus seemed sharper than before. He didn't know exactly what it was, but it wasn't enough to raise any alarms. Just... noticeable.
Gwen, on the other hand, was having similar thoughts. Peter, too, had shifted in ways she couldn't quite explain. He stood a little taller now, seemed more comfortable in his own skin, but nothing drastic enough for her to voice it. Still, she found herself glancing at him when she thought he wasn't looking, wondering if he'd noticed anything odd about her, too.
The light buzzing that had come and gone all week returned, but this time it was barely noticeable—more of a faint whisper in the back of their minds than an urgent alarm. It faded quickly, as if it were just a passing thought, something they could easily brush off. Peter rubbed his neck, momentarily distracted, but then pushed the feeling aside. Gwen, too, shifted in her seat, but dismissed the sensation just as quickly.
They continued their work, occasionally exchanging brief glances, both too caught up in their thoughts to speak. The tension between them was subtle—like something just beneath the surface that neither of them could quite grasp.
"You okay?" Gwen asked, her voice casual, though she couldn't hide a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
Peter nodded, giving her a small smile. "Yeah. Just a long week, I guess."
Gwen returned his smile, though something about the way he said it made her think there was more going on. "Same here."
They returned to their project, letting the comfortable silence settle between them. Neither of them said anything more, but the subtle changes in each other were becoming harder to ignore. Peter seemed more at ease, like he had finally found some balance within himself, while Gwen carried herself with a quiet confidence that hadn't been there before. But neither of them had enough evidence to connect the dots just yet.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, they both packed up their things, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Peter caught a flicker of something in Gwen's expression—like she was holding back some kind of realization, just like he was. But before he could dwell on it, the moment passed, and they went their separate ways.
Whatever was happening to them, it wasn't something they could fully explain yet. But for now, the subtle shifts were enough to keep them guessing, to keep them watching each other from a distance, not yet ready to acknowledge the truth that was slowly unfolding between them