Hearing a muffled sound in the distance, Gwen lifted her head and glanced at Peter.
"That sounded like an explosion," she said, blinking in confusion.
"Yeah," Peter replied, nodding as he walked toward the window. Gwen followed quickly.
Peter's gaze swept across the cityscape, past the towering buildings, and fixed on a distant column of smoke rising from a building.
"Looks like something's going on," Peter muttered.
"Do you think it's an accident?" Gwen speculated, guessing it might be an industrial mishap in the chemical district.
"Not sure," Peter replied casually. "The news will report it soon enough."
"Hope nobody got hurt," Gwen said, exhaling. She wanted to continue the conversation but suddenly found herself at a loss for words.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a Melo Coconut vending machine at the end of the hallway.
"I'm thirsty," she said, making her way toward the machine. "Want something to drink?"
"No, thanks," Peter responded, a bit surprised by Gwen's calm demeanor.
Typically, after any commotion in New York, Spider-Man would already be on the move. But Gwen looked as though she had no intention of rushing off, wearing an expression that seemed to say, I just want a soda.
"I think there's an overpriced Mountain Dew in here," Gwen said, leaning against the machine to scan its offerings.
She fed a twenty-dollar bill into the slot, purchased a root beer for herself, and added a bottle of Mountain Dew to her selection.
"Last time you bought me a root beer. This one's on me," Gwen said, handing the Mountain Dew to Peter with a sly smile.
After a brief hesitation, Peter took the soda.
"I've had some good luck today," Gwen remarked, smiling as she opened her bottle.
"Why's that?" Peter asked.
"I found a dollar under this vending machine," Gwen said, showing off her discovery.
Her excitement was short-lived, however. Upon closer inspection, the "dollar" turned out to be a deceptive Christian flyer designed to look like money. It bore a short story about young people's responsibilities to their families and society.
Gwen crumpled the flyer in frustration. But as she turned to throw it away, she spotted a lanky man in a crisp black suit approaching them.
"Good morning, miss," the man greeted her, his voice smooth. "Is this Sergeant George Stacy's room?"
Gwen narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "Who are you?"
"Agent Frank Garrow, FBI," the man said, flashing a badge.
Gwen glanced at the badge and relaxed slightly.
The supposed federal agent entered the room, and Gwen turned back to Peter.
"Where were we?" she asked.
"You said you were lucky," Peter reminded her.
"Well, I must've been mistaken," Gwen replied sheepishly. She was embarrassed about being tricked by the fake dollar.
"Guess I need to keep my eyes open next time," she added, half-joking.
"You really should," Peter said, setting his soda bottle on the windowsill. His gaze shifted toward the room as he said, "For example, you didn't notice that the guy claiming to be an FBI agent was lying."
"Wait, what?" Gwen exclaimed, wide-eyed.
Peter nodded. "When people lie, they unconsciously blink more, look up or to the right, and their pupils constrict slightly. These are telltale signs of dishonesty."
His heightened senses, enhanced by his alien parasite, made him an expert at detecting such subtle cues.
"That guy had all the signs," Peter explained.
Gwen's heart sank as fear for her father's safety set in. Without hesitation, she kicked open the ward door.
The loud bang startled both George Stacy and the man in the black suit mid-conversation.
Before George could respond, Gwen shouted, "Dad! He's not with the FBI!"
Realizing his cover was blown, the man drew a pistol from his jacket and aimed it at them.
"Don't move!" he barked.
In an instant, Gwen stepped in front of Peter, shielding him.
The man hesitated, seemingly caught off guard. But before he could act, the carpet beneath him shifted abruptly, causing him to lose balance.
Using the distraction, Gwen lunged forward, kicking the gun from his hand and delivering a swift punch that sent him sprawling to the floor.
The man in the black suit groaned as he hit the ground. Gwen pinned him down effortlessly, breathing heavily from the adrenaline.
Turning to check on Peter and her father, she noticed them staring at her with expressions of shock and disbelief.
Uh-oh... Maybe I overdid it, Gwen thought.
In an attempt to play it off, she clutched her hand, pretending to be in pain.
Unfortunately, her acting wasn't convincing—at least, not to Peter.
Ten minutes later, the police arrived and arrested the man after a brief interrogation. It was confirmed that he was a member of a gang from Hell's Kitchen.
The gang had been under pressure from the NYPD lately, and the man had posed as a federal agent to intimidate George Stacy.
Instead, he'd been swiftly taken down by Gwen.
The mention of Hell's Kitchen made Gwen think back to the previous night and her encounter with Matt Murdock.
Kingpin.
That name stuck in her mind. The man Murdock had mentioned was supposedly the most powerful crime boss in Hell's Kitchen.
Maybe protecting the city could start with taking him down.
---
Half an hour later, the ward was quiet again. Only Gwen and her father remained.
George Stacy, however, was far from calm.
One thought consumed him: When the gun had been pointed at him and Peter, Gwen had instinctively shielded Peter instead of her own father.
He sighed heavily, fixing his daughter with a serious expression.
"Gwen, we need to talk."
-------------------------------------------------------
Visit our Patreon for more:
patreon.com/Samurai492
Extra Content Already Available