Unmasked Truths
Peter and Gwen stared at each other, their breaths caught in their throats as the creak of Gwen’s bedroom door slowly filled the silence. They turned toward the doorway in unison, both frozen in place. Captain George Stacy stood there, his tall frame looming, casting a shadow across the room. His gaze was sharp, the tension palpable in the air.
Instinct kicked in before reason, and Gwen shot out her leg, shoving Peter off the bed with a swift motion. He tumbled to the floor with a loud thud, wincing as he landed.
“Gwen!” Peter groaned, shooting her a glare from the ground, his voice a mix of surprise and pain.
“Dad, it’s not what it looks like!” Gwen blurted, her face flushing with a mixture of panic and embarrassment. The heat in her cheeks made her feel more exposed than she had ever felt in a fight. She knew she had to say something, anything, to defuse the tension growing between them.
George’s eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable as he glanced from Gwen to Peter, then back again. He didn’t move from the doorway, his silence more unnerving than anything else. The weight of the moment settled over them like a fog, thick and suffocating. His jaw tightened, but his voice, when it finally emerged, was cold and measured.
“Not what it looks like, huh?” he said, his tone biting. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like what I think it is.”
Gwen swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but the gravity of her father’s words cut deep. She had seen him angry before, but there was something different now, something far more unsettling in his calm demeanor. She struggled to find the right words, the right explanation, but nothing came. Everything she’d been hiding was teetering on the edge of unraveling.
Before she could speak, George stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving them. “I was the one who put you two in that bed,” he said, each word deliberate. His voice was low, but the weight behind it made Gwen’s heart pound even faster. His hands shifted slightly, and Gwen’s stomach dropped as he held up their masks—Spider-Man’s and Spider-Woman’s.
Peter’s eyes widened in shock, darting between Gwen and the man standing in front of them. Everything came crashing down in an instant—their injuries, the battle at Fisk Tower, their secret identities. They had been too careless. George Stacy knew. He had put the pieces together.
“Someone,” George continued, raising both masks higher, his voice gaining an edge, “better start explaining this. Now.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Peter and Gwen looked at each other, mouths opening and closing uselessly as they tried to muster something to say. But it was too late for lies. There was no going back, no dodging the truth now.
Gwen felt the walls closing in. She could sense Peter’s fear beside her, but his presence offered little comfort. She had never wanted her father to find out like this—not with suspicion hanging in the air, and certainly not with Peter thrown into the middle of it. She had hoped for time. Time to explain, time to frame it all in a way that would make sense. But there was no time left.
Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke, her voice trembling. “Dad… I’m Spider-Woman,” she began, her confession hanging in the air like a storm cloud about to burst. “And Peter… he’s Spider-Man. We—” she hesitated, her eyes locking onto Peter, searching for support.
Peter cleared his throat, his heart racing. “We didn’t plan any of this. It just… happened,” he added, his voice strained but sincere. “We tried to keep it from getting out of control.”
The words tumbled out slowly at first, but once Gwen started, there was no stopping. She told him everything. From the moment she and Peter were bitten by the radioactive spiders to their first awkward attempts at heroism. She explained the challenges they faced, the dangers they had encountered, and the weight of responsibility that came with their powers. She spoke of their desire to help, to protect, to make the city safer in ways others couldn’t.
Peter added what he could, filling in gaps in her story, though his voice remained quieter than hers. But George’s face didn’t change. He stood there, arms crossed, listening, his eyes fixed on them as though weighing every word. He wasn’t angry—at least not in the way Gwen had expected. His silence, though, was heavier than any outburst could have been.
When Gwen finished, the room fell into an eerie quiet. George didn’t move for a long time, his face unreadable, the air thick with unspoken tension. Peter shifted uncomfortably, dreading what would come next.
“Peter,” George said finally, his voice low, almost dangerous in its calmness. “Get out.”
The words hung in the air, sharp and final.
Peter blinked in confusion. “What?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
“I said,” George repeated, more firmly this time, “get out. And stay away from my daughter. Leave her out of this insanity.”
The words stung like a slap. Peter winced, standing slowly, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. His heart raced, his mind reeling. He had expected anger, yes—but not this. Not the rejection, not the fury simmering beneath the surface. “Mr. Stacy, I care about Gwen. I’d never—”
“Don’t,” George cut him off sharply. “Don’t stand there and tell me you care. You think dragging her into this dangerous, reckless life proves you care? You’ve put her in harm’s way at every turn.”
Gwen’s eyes widened in shock. “Dad, no, that’s not fair!”
George’s glare flicked to Gwen. “You think I’m being unfair? You think I don’t understand what’s going on? I’m your father, Gwen. And I won’t let you throw your life away over this—over him.” His voice cracked on the last word, the anger and fear that had been building inside him finally breaking through.
“This isn’t about Peter,” Gwen fired back, her own anger flaring. “This is about me. I made this choice. I became Spider-Woman because I wanted to make a difference, to protect people. You can’t just push him out and expect me to quit.”
George’s face hardened, his eyes darkening with emotion. “This life you’ve chosen? It’s not some comic book adventure, Gwen. It’s real. And people die. You might be the next one. Do you understand that?”
Gwen’s hands balled into fists at her sides, her frustration growing. “You don’t get to make that choice for me! You don’t get to decide who I am or what I do with my life. Not anymore.”
George’s voice lowered, turning icy. “You keep this up, Gwen, and I’ll have no choice but to bring you in. Do you really want to force me to do that?”
The words were like a knife in Gwen’s chest, cutting deep. She stared at her father, her vision blurring with unshed tears. “You’re threatening me now? Your own daughter?”
“I’m trying to protect you,” George said, the anguish in his voice barely masked. “But if you keep this up, I won’t have a choice.”
The air between them crackled with unresolved tension, years of love and misunderstanding crashing headlong into their shared silence. Gwen couldn’t take it anymore. With a final, defiant look at her father, she grabbed her mask and stormed toward the window.
“Gwen!” George called after her, his voice desperate now.
But she didn’t turn back. She shot a webline out of the window and swung into the night, the wind tearing the sound of her father’s voice away.
Moments later, Gwen landed outside Peter’s window. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing. She climbed inside to find Peter sitting on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn’t look up as she crossed the room.
Without a word, Gwen wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Peter clung to her, burying his face in her shoulder. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, two broken pieces holding each other together.
Neither of them noticed the shimmering portal forming in the corner of the room, its swirling surface flickering with eerie energy. And then, in an instant, a gust of wind filled the room. Before they could react, the portal sucked them in with a violent pull.
Their screams echoed through the air—and then they were gone.