Sometimes, people don’t agree with her on this, punching is such a good stress reliever. All the tension all the pent up anger just flows from her body, out of clenched fist and onto the punching bag. The constant sound of the smacking of the leather fabric, was the sound of anger disappearing. Well for a little while, before your mind brings it back up and the pressure returns once again.
But as a quick release of stress, what harm could it do? People understand, Hobie has his guitar to play rifts when angry, Jess sees it as a nice way to relieve yourself, only if it’s healthy. Miguel… she doesn’t know what he does to de-stress, he always looks angry at something. Maybe he throws tables at people. Gwen chuckled at that but it was short lived.
Her last punch rattled through the air. This one felt more effective, more of an echo occurred around the vacant gym. Well they say gym more like a Spider-Man training room.
It was late so many people that do stay late are already gone.
She had been in this spider society for a month now. It was going great, well she thought, Jess was pretty much her mentor, and she loved it. That woman was a total badass.
Gwen drew in a deep breath and then grabbed her water bottle to clench her thirst, removing her boxing gloves as she did so. She ran a hand through her hair, usually this sort of thing worked. Since she no longer had her drums, she could no longer use them to just leave the living and be with her thoughts. However this time, her punching session was more irritating than de-stressing. In fact it made her think more.
She placed the bottle down, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She then aimed a punch at the bag, about to strike it,
“What are you doing?” The voice was flat, but with a hint of annoyance as well as curiosity. Gwen turned to face her boss, Miguel, she immediately changed her stature and stood straight, pretending that Miguel suddenly appearing hadn’t scared her.
He looked over her, some new purple hues had made their way under her eyes. She looked tired, the smiles she had been giving them were weak and fake. She had become more unfocused, more prone to mess ups. So when he saw that she was still there, he thought he’d get to the bottom of it. He couldn’t have her mess up a mission, not when so much as at stake.
“Just, just practicing.” She replied and then walked over to the bench, sitting down, grabbing her towel and wiping her face dry of any sweat. Miguel looked over at the punching bag, it swung gently on its hook. Something was on the girls mind, clearly.
“Without gloves?” He asked, noticing them laying immobile on the floor. She shrugged,
“I was, just forgot to put them back on.” She replied, avoiding eye contact with him.
God this girl was making it hard to get anything out of her. But to be honest Miguel wasn’t one people confided in, in fact he would just say “don’t let it get in the way of the mission.” And leave it at that. But ever since they brought Gwen here, he remembers the face of pure fear. The pure terror on her face as her dad, her own father, pointed his gun at her. Even firing a warning shot before hand. It must’ve hurt, almost getting taken in by your own father, your superhero self being called a murderer because your father didn’t know the whole story.
He then turned to look at her,
“What’s on you mind?” He asked, god why did he care! He never cared, they’re all Spider-Men, shit happens and sadly they’ve all been forced to deal with it. Yet the events of their stories may be similar, the life each spider lives is different.
Gwen hesitated, didn’t she really want him knowing? They only spoke about missions and said hello once in a while, this is the longest conversation they’ve had. Miguel understood her anxiousness, but he stayed nonetheless. Part of him was saying, it’s for the mission, you need her to be as best as she can be. But the other half was saying, she’s in pain, comfort her. It was like an instinct that he tried so hard to bury was resurfacing.
“It’s… it’s about my dad.” Miguel thought as much. Gwen stood up and started pacing as she rambled. He just stood and listened, moved when he thought necessary. She spoke, anger and frustration slowly building, she was angry.
“How can my own father choose his job! Over his own daughter!” She struck, eyes closed in her fury, aiming to punch the hanging bag.
She felt her hand come in contact with something, not as hard as the punching bag. She opened her eyes and realised Miguel had caught her hand. She’s swung at him. He’ll be honest standing in-front of the punching bag wasn’t the smartest idea. But you could also say Gwen didn’t look like she was going to swing at the thing.
She froze and looked horrified, not only was she ranting she almost punched her boss. Well she did, he just caught her swing. Gwen took in a shaky breath not moving her hand. Her bottom lip quivered, her eyes weld with tears.
Miguel was stumped on what to do here. Did he make her cry? Shit he didn’t mean to make her cry. He slowly let go of her hand,
“Gwen, I-“
He was cut off by the girl dashing into him. She stuck to him like glue. He stiffened and looked down at her, he would usually get annoyed that she is getting his suit wet, but she was so tired, so fragile, so sad. Gwen was in desperate need of comfort and she was hugging the worse person to give it to her. Or did she?
Miguel slowly brought his arms around the girl. He held her close, applying pressure but not enough to harm her. He remembered how he comforted his daughter, whenever she cried he brought her to his chest. He held her and slowed his breathing for her to subconsciously copy. He would then run a soothing hand through her hair, drawing soothing circles on her back. He would then hum lowly, do anything to sooth her.
“Ay, cariño.” He spoke softly, a tone he didn’t know he would ever speak again. He looked down at Gwen, he’d intuitively comforted her like his own daughter. Gwen opened her eyes slowly and looked up at him, she looked so small compared to her everyday confident personality.
“I think it’s time, you finished up here.” He told her, after her breathing was normal and no more tears threatened to fall from her glassy eyes. Gwen then let go and sniffled as she made distance between them.
“You give good hugs.” Gwen suddenly spoke, Miguel managed to hold down the smile that would’ve formed on his lips. She looked at up at him and gave a weak smile, he gave a nod. Miguel never thought he’d ever comfort someone like that ever again.
“You feel like this again, tell someone, don’t Injure yourself. Hay gente que puede ayudar.” He told her, his voice back to stern as it usually was.
She gave a nod of agreement,
“Thanks Miguel.” She appreciated his help, even if he didn’t know it was going to end up like this. She then grabbed her things and left the gym, maybe Miguel wasn’t an asshole after all.