Reunions
Gwen Stacy used to like dinners with her father, he’d tell her (modified) tales of his cases and job. Stop his schedule to look at her report card and look back at her with a proud smile and tell her about how wonderful she was doing. The best way for the two to connect was after a long day with a homemade meal.
After He got busy with super-villains masked mayhem and she got busy with highschool, it was the only way they kept close. But once she enlisted herself into the police program, dinners became infrequent and awkward.
Tonight was proving to be another rough night of conversation for them.
“I thought you liked him.” Gwen protested as she stabbed a potato with her fork, speaking loud enough to emphasize her words, but not to draw any attention in the lazy diner.
Captain George Stacy sighed, tiredly after taking another sip from his drink, “We’ve been over this before Gwen, I do like him.” His tone conveyed that of a long repeated argument that had never been laid to die.
His daughter protested, voice showing “You’re so…blank with him, you’re just putting on an act, and it’s hurting his feelings!”
Gwen pointed her face down, eyeing her father angrily. After forgoing her glasses “the stare” had been difficult to maintain, but over the years it seemed the new version was an improvement. Almost twice as terrifying.
Captain Stacy used his napkin to act as a curtain to block her look, laughing “Do criminals fall for that or is just a pure of heart test?”
“I’ve had a crook or two submit, but, yeah the look doesn’t have the same charm. Criminals don’t exactly follow the same mindset we do,” Gwen laughed, before she recognized what she implied, and her lips went into a straight line of discomfort.
“Ever since his Dad…” Gwen frowned, and looked at her water on the table. And her father fought to roll his eyes.
George couldn’t take that excuse anymore, every other sentence of an argument became about how awful Harry felt and how his father death had affected him so much. And at first, he’d believed it. After all the boy saw his own father’s explosion by the inadvertent hands of a hero, that could mess someone up.
But it had been five years, Harry had been claiming the several months of therapy had shown improvements that were only contradicted when he wanted something. But Gwen, ever so tolerant Gwen, had stuck by his side through it all. Even when offered more support, the only person he would take it from was Gwen.
Thats why George Stacy kept lying to his daughter and saying he didn’t mind Harry.
“He never got his Dads approval, he loves it when you show up.”
George Stacy looked at his daughter, and then at the empty space next to her in the booth seating, “Where is he tonight?”
Gwen’s shoulders went down at the subtle accusation, and she explained, “Apparently at an interview, he’s giving the bugle the spotlight for the early scoop on our project in the hopes-“
“In the hopes that Peter will answer?” The older man qurked an eyebrow at his daughter, a sly smile wavered on his face, but his daughter’s eye roll quickly made it be exchanged for a more serious face.
“We miss him Dad. We can be mad at him but still want to help him.” Gwen concluded.
He got a very quiet, “Maybe he was trying to help you,” Folding his hands within each other.
“By cutting off his friends? Not really the best way to go about that.”
They avoided each others eyes for a minute before Gwen perked up, and looked at her Dad.
“You sidetrack me every time with Peter, we need to focus on Harry.” She demanded.
“Remind me why that is again?” Captain Stacy relented.
“After what happened to his dad, he gets excited when you’re involved, it hurts him when you don’t at least try to act like he’s your son in law.”
“*Future* son in law,” the Captain corrected, “No ring, no papers, no technically asking either of us.”
“Is it a joint decision?” Gwen folded her arms, but for the first time in their conversation, a smile graced her face.”
“He’s a good kid Gwen, It’s just…” he hesitated, in
“Just what Dad?”
“This job lets you get a good read of people. And while he’s certainty a fine entrepreneur, there’s here’s a lot of resentment in him, I get scared it’ll rub off on you.”
…
“Hey Petey, wake up” a familiar scratchy voice worked itself into Peter’s head, each echo coupled with an unbearing throb of pain.
Peter felt his head warp around itself, his mind feeling as if it was both everywhere and no where at once.
He knew what was happening, but why? He knew who these people were, but had such loose comprehension the names felt foreign when he said them aloud.
“Har- Harry?” Peter’s voice was hoarse, tired.
“Ding ding ding!” Harry laughed, and Peter had to close his eyes to tolerate the sound of it.
His spidey senses waved into his head with the headache, and Peter opened his eyes vastly darting his head away only to see Harry holding a wet cloth, smiling down at him.
“Jumpy aren’t we?” Harry asked before taking Peter by the collar of his shirt and gently drifting him back closer, the sudden movement had made Peter too dazed to pull away again. He still jumped in shock when the cold cloth came into contact with his head, and he heard Harry say something again, looking at someone else in the room. Peter followed his face, and frowned when he saw who it was.
“Mmm…” Peter looked at the other figure, frowning as he mumbled out “Eddie” a sour look entered his face.
Harry’s form went blurry a moment has he saw him stand up, leaving the cold cloth on Harry’s neck, it felt wonderful compared to the rest of him.
“I’ll let you two get to it,” He heard, again Harry’s voice, farther away now, and off in the distance he heard him, voice much lower, but still squeaky in nature whisper something to Eddie, before walking off.
The actions didn’t connect in Peter’s head right away, and it took looking up and his eyes adjusting to see Eddie, who had apparently walked over and kneeled down to face Peter smiling.
“Hey Bro.” Eddies voice rang out, powerful in Peter’s mind.