Webs of Fate

Weeks had passed since the meeting with Reed Richards and Tony Stark, and while Peter and Gwen were still buzzing from the potential future their invention could bring, their minds remained occupied with a far more pressing matter—Kingpin. The crime lord had slithered his way free, but Peter and Gwen were determined to find the evidence needed to put him away for good.

They had been combing the city for weeks, piecing together whatever clues they could find. Leads were scarce, though, and for every small success they had, it felt like Kingpin was always a step ahead. But tonight, Peter wasn't worrying about the web of crime they were trying to unravel. Tonight, he was having dinner with the Stacy family.

Peter sat awkwardly at the dining table, trying to calm the fluttering in his stomach. To his right, Gwen's younger brothers, Howard and Arthur Stacy, were busy talking about school. Helen Stacy, Gwen's mother, sat at the other end of the table, offering Peter a polite, welcoming smile. But it was Captain George Stacy, sitting directly across from Peter, whose stern gaze dissected every move he made.

Gwen sat next to Peter, tapping her foot anxiously. The family's conversation started innocently enough—school, Peter's internship at the lab, his photography. Howard kept sneaking glances at Peter, likely trying to size him up, while Arthur occasionally threw in a lighthearted comment.

"Is it true you take photos for the school paper?" Howard asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Peter nodded, smiling awkwardly. "Yeah, I mostly do sports, events, that kind of stuff."

Arthur leaned over the table, grinning. "You must be pretty busy with all the action in the city lately. What with those vigilantes running around."

At the mention of Spider-Man and Spider-Woman, Peter tensed slightly, but he forced a smile. "Yeah, something like that."

The conversation flowed smoothly until Captain Stacy, with that all-too-familiar police intuition, asked Peter, "So, Peter, what are your future plans? You've got potential, but where do you see yourself?"

Before Peter could respond, Arthur jumped in, "Yeah, Peter! You planning on being a big-shot scientist or something?"

Peter laughed awkwardly, not quite sure how to answer. "Well, I guess I'm still figuring it out—"

Just as he was about to elaborate, Captain Stacy made a passing comment, his tone cool but pointed. "Figuring it out is one thing, but it's important to have direction, especially if you're spending time with my daughter."

That was when the conversation took a turn. Gwen, who had been trying to keep the peace, felt her frustration rise. Her father's protective nature was no secret, but tonight, it felt different. His probing seemed almost personal.

Her brothers fell silent, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

"Why are you always like this?" Gwen blurted out, her voice rising slightly. "Peter's not some random guy, okay? He's—he's my boyfriend!"

The words left her lips before she could stop them, her tone filled with exasperation. The room went still. Peter nearly choked on his drink, wide-eyed as he processed what she'd just said. They hadn't defined their relationship yet, but Gwen's declaration hung in the air, impossible to take back.

Her brothers exchanged glances, both of them smirking slightly at the unexpected reveal. Howard muttered under his breath, "This just got interesting."

Helen's eyes softened as she looked at Gwen, and she reached across the table to give her daughter's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Gwen, honey, it's okay. Your father just worries. It's his job." She turned to Peter with a warm smile. "We're happy to have you here, Peter."

Captain Stacy, however, wasn't done. He leaned forward, his brow furrowing even more. "Boyfriend, huh? Then I have every right to know—what kind of future are you planning with my daughter?"

Peter's throat went dry, and he could feel the weight of George Stacy's gaze. "I—I care about Gwen a lot. I would never—"

Gwen cut him off, her frustration bubbling over. "Dad, enough! Can't you just give Peter a break? He's not on trial here!"

Howard, ever the opportunist, chimed in, "Yeah, Dad, give the guy a chance! Maybe he'll grow on you." Arthur stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the drama.

Captain Stacy, though, wasn't laughing. His expression grew even more serious, his voice low. "I have every right to protect my daughter, Gwen. You may think I'm being hard on him, but I'm doing my job."

Before Gwen could respond, the news came on in the background. The anchor's voice was faint but audible. "Breaking news: Spider-Man and Spider-Woman were spotted in another confrontation with organized crime today. Authorities are investigating—"

George stiffened immediately, his jaw tightening. "Those two again," he muttered, his voice dripping with frustration. "They've been nothing but trouble, especially with the Fisk case."

Peter and Gwen exchanged a quick glance, dread creeping into the pit of their stomachs. Helen tried to change the subject, but George was already in full rant mode. "If it weren't for those two reckless vigilantes, we'd have Fisk behind bars by now. But no—months of police work, ruined."

Howard and Arthur both perked up at the mention of Fisk, clearly more interested in their father's work than usual.

"Do you really think Spider-Man and Spider-Woman messed it up that bad, Dad?" Arthur asked, sounding skeptical.

George slammed his hand down on the table, making everyone jump. "Absolutely. These so-called heroes think they can take the law into their own hands, but they're amateurs. It's only a matter of time before someone gets seriously hurt."

Peter swallowed hard, guilt gnawing at him. He opened his mouth to defend the vigilantes, but Gwen beat him to it.

"Dad, they're not amateurs," Gwen said, her voice rising again. "They're out there doing what they have to because people like Fisk keep getting away. They're stopping crime, saving lives—"

George glared at her, his frustration evident. "And in doing so, they're putting everyone else at risk. You don't understand, Gwen. Being a hero isn't about flashy suits and web-slinging. There are consequences, and one day, they're going to pay for their recklessness."

The tension in the room was almost unbearable. Peter wanted to speak up, to defend their actions, but the weight of Captain Stacy's words made it hard to argue. He looked at Gwen, whose face was flushed with anger and frustration.

Just then, George's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, sighed heavily, and stood up. "Something's happening at the precinct. I have to go."

Without another word, he grabbed his coat and left, the door closing behind him with a sharp click.

The room was quiet for a moment, the lingering tension still palpable. Helen smiled softly at Peter, trying to ease the discomfort. "Don't worry about George. He's... well, you know how he is."

Gwen, visibly shaken, stood up abruptly. "We should probably... work on that project."

Peter nodded, grateful for the excuse to escape the awkwardness. As they retreated to the basement, the weight of the dinner conversation hung over them both.

Flashback: Captain Stacy's Doubt

Later that evening, George Stacy sat in his office at the precinct, his mind replaying the dinner conversation. Peter Parker. There was something about that boy. Something that didn't sit right with him.

His gut had never steered him wrong before, and now, it was screaming at him. Spider-Man and Spider-Woman had only appeared recently, and their timing had been suspiciously perfect. Their abilities, their tactics—it was almost as if they knew too much for amateurs. Could Gwen...?

No. He shook his head. The thought was absurd. But as much as he tried to dismiss it, the seed of doubt had been planted.

After dinner, Peter and Gwen suited up and headed out into the city. New York buzzed with life below, but their focus was on the rooftops above. They had narrowed down their investigation of Kingpin's operation to a few key locations, with Fisk Tower as the final target. But before they could move in, they needed concrete information—names, locations, anything that could solidify their case.

Hours into their patrol, they spotted their next lead: Trevor Jenkins, a low-level thug who worked directly under Fisk's operation. He was lurking near an old warehouse by the docks, clearly up to no good.

Peter glanced over at Gwen as they crouched on a nearby rooftop. "This guy's been with Fisk for a while. You ready?"

Gwen smirked beneath her mask. "Let's see if we can get him to talk. Remember—I'll take the lead this time."

Peter chuckled nervously. He still wasn't quite used to Gwen's aggressive "bad cop" approach, but over time, he'd learned to roll with it. "Yeah, you're the bad cop. I'll try not to get in your way."

The two of them swung down from the roof, landing silently behind Jenkins just as he was making his exit from the warehouse. He froze the moment he saw them, his face going pale.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" Jenkins put his hands up defensively. "I don't want any trouble!"

Peter stepped forward first, keeping his tone calm and non-threatening. "We're not here for trouble either, Trevor. We just need some information. Help us out, and this doesn't have to get complicated."

Jenkins looked from Peter to Gwen, clearly more worried about her. "I don't know anything. I swear."

Peter sighed softly. "C'mon, man. We know you're tied to Fisk's operations. Just give us something—names, a location, maybe—and we'll let you go. Easy, right?"

But Jenkins took a step back, shaking his head. "I can't. Fisk will kill me."

Before Peter could respond, Gwen stepped in, her demeanor completely shifting. Her voice, usually smooth and confident, now carried a dangerous edge. "If Fisk kills you, it'll be quick. Me? I like to take my time."

In one swift motion, she grabbed the front of Jenkins' shirt, pulling him close so their faces were inches apart. "So how about you save us both the trouble and start talking? Because if I have to ask again, you won't like my methods."

Peter watched, half impressed, half stunned by how easily Gwen slipped into her bad cop role. He'd seen her in action plenty of times, but this side of her always caught him a little off guard. Jenkins, on the other hand, was terrified.

"Okay, okay!" Jenkins stammered, his eyes darting around like a cornered rat. "I'll tell you where the next shipment's going! Just... just don't hurt me."

Peter laid a hand on Gwen's arm, gently pulling her back. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Jenkins swallowed hard, looking like he might faint from the tension. "The shipment... it's going to the docks. Pier 39. They're moving it at midnight—guns, explosives, the whole deal. Fisk's guys will be there."

Peter gave a nod, glancing at Gwen to signal it was enough. She loosened her grip, but didn't step back, keeping her intimidating stance.

"And who's running it? You know the names?" Peter pressed, keeping his voice calm but firm.

Jenkins wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily. "Big guys. Bruisers. Uh... one's called Bruno, the other, Carter. They're both packing heat, and... and Fisk will be checking in personally."

Peter exchanged a quick glance with Gwen. This was exactly the kind of information they needed. Jenkins was singing now, and Peter felt more in control of the situation.

"Thanks, Trevor," Peter said, stepping forward with a casual air. "You've been really helpful. Now, here's the thing—you stay out of this, and maybe Fisk doesn't come looking for you. But if you're lying or trying to pull something—" He tilted his head toward Gwen. "You'll have to deal with her."

Gwen crossed her arms, her voice a low growl. "And trust me, you don't want that."

Jenkins nodded frantically, his legs shaking beneath him. "No, no, no—I'm not lying. I swear! I don't want any trouble."

Peter patted his shoulder lightly, more for effect than reassurance. "Good choice."

Without another word, Peter and Gwen shot a web line into the air and swung off into the night, leaving Jenkins alone, still trembling. As they soared through the city, the cold air rushing past them, Peter couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"You're really getting the hang of this 'bad cop' thing, you know."

Gwen grinned beneath her mask. "Well, someone has to be the scary one. You're too nice."

Peter shrugged mid-swing. "It works though! I just play the 'good guy' and then point at you when they need a push. You've got the intimidation factor down."

They landed on a rooftop a few blocks away, catching their breath and going over the information.

"So," Gwen said, her voice shifting back to a serious tone, "Pier 39. That's where we hit them."

"Yeah, but Fisk being there in person... that's risky. We need to be ready for anything. And if those two enforcers show up, we're in for a rough fight," Peter said, already strategizing their next move.

"We'll be ready." Gwen tightened her fists, feeling the weight of the night ahead. "This could be our best shot to get him. No mistakes."

Peter nodded, his expression turning serious as well. "Let's go finish this."

Months later...

Winter had settled over New York, blanketing the city in a thin layer of snow. After months of combing through clues and gathering evidence, Peter and Gwen finally had what they needed to take Fisk down for good. The countless nights of patrolling, interrogating informants, and surviving close calls had all led them here. The final confrontation had been looming, growing heavier with each passing week.

The rooftop where they now stood overlooked the imposing Fisk Tower, the wind biting at their exposed skin. Peter's jaw clenched as he eyed the building. "This is it," he said, his voice tense. "We end it tonight."

Gwen nodded, her breath visible in the cold night air. "No turning back."

They moved swiftly, navigating the tower's defenses with precision. Fisk's men were numerous and well-armed, but Peter and Gwen had become a finely tuned team. Their movements were fluid, their attacks coordinated. But it was still grueling. Every punch, every swing of their webs took its toll, and by the time they reached the roof, exhaustion was beginning to set in.

Kingpin stood near a waiting helicopter, barking orders to his men. He turned as Peter and Gwen landed on the rooftop, his massive frame casting a shadow across the helipad. The final battle was brutal—Kingpin was a mountain of a man, and even with their combined strength and agility, he nearly overpowered them.

Blow after blow, they fought, pushing themselves to their limits. But they refused to back down. In a final burst of strength, they managed to knock Kingpin off balance, webbing him to the ground along with his goons.

But victory came at a price. Both Peter and Gwen collapsed, too battered and bruised to move. As their vision blurred, they felt someone approach. The last thing they remembered before everything went black was the sensation of their masks being removed.

Waking Up

Peter awoke with a sharp jolt of pain, the familiar sting of injury shooting through his body. He let out a quick yelp, which was echoed by a voice beside him. Gwen was sitting up in bed, wincing in pain as well.

"Why are you here?" they both shouted, pointing at each other in confusion.

Before they could figure it out, the door creaked open—and the scene faded to black.