"A BIRD suit?" Felicia says, her voice carrying that usual mix of sarcasm and amusement as she ties off the last bandage around my waist. "What is it with you super freaks and your ridiculous themes?"

I wince as I pull my shirt back down over my bandaged torso. "You think I'm choosing these guys? The guy was flying—had this whole mechanical wingspan thing going on. It was pretty impressive... you know, when I wasn't busy being thrown through buildings."

Felicia rolls her eyes, her fingers absently stroking the black cat curled up in her lap. She watches me for a moment before picking up the cat and giving it a kiss on the head. "So, you going back out there to find him or what?" she asks, settling onto her bed with the air of someone who already knows the answer.

I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Not right now. The police scanner's been quiet, and I doubt that guy's in a hurry to make another appearance so soon. But... this, right after that whole mess with Dr. Octavius? It's too close together to be a coincidence. Feels like something bigger's coming."

She raises an eyebrow, clearly less concerned than I am. "Or maybe it's just the usual 'let's kill Spider-Man' routine. Maybe they're forming a line, taking numbers."

I shake my head, frowning at the window, the city stretching out below us like it always does. But lately, it feels different. Like something's shifting.

"It's not just that." I pause, half-lost in thought. "Sometimes I can't help but wonder if I can actually do this. I take so many beatings, I'm not even sure if my body can keep up." My thoughts returning to the mystery behind Norman Osborn, and his involvement in all of this, if he even is.

I don't even wanna think about it.

Felicia's been watching me this whole time, silent, but now her eyes narrow just slightly. "You ever get scared?"

The question catches me off guard, the bluntness of it. I turn to look at her. Her voice is steady, calm, but there's a flicker of something—curiosity, concern?—that makes me pause.

"Scared?" I echo. "Of course I do. Every time I step out there. I mean, come on, I'm a high school kid running around in spandex, dodging bullets, getting slammed into walls. I'm slandered every other day in the papers, and let's not forget pop quizzes are a thing. Scared doesn't even begin to cover it."

She tilts her head, still watching, her expression unreadable.

"But," I continue, "...being scared won't stop people from getting hurt. Getting beat down won't stop people from being killed. And so it doesn't matter if I get scared, or I get beat to a pulp. I'll stand anyways."

For a second, I think she's going to laugh. But she doesn't. She just looks at me—really looks at me—and there's this weird tension in the air, like she's trying to decide if what I said is brave, or just incredibly stupid.

"That's stupid," she finally says, and the tension breaks with a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Thanks, Felicia," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

She shrugs. "But... kinda brave too. In a stupid way."

I can't help but smile. "You think so?"

She leans back, her cat purring in her lap. "Yeah, I mean, brave in the same way people who swim with sharks are brave. Y'know, unnecessary but... weirdly admirable."

"Gee, that's exactly the kind of validation I needed." I start packing up my stuff, zipping up my suit and bag, trying not to think too much about how sore I'll be tomorrow. "I'll grab my own medical supplies next time," I say. "It's just, y'know, most of the budget goes to web fluid, or fixing my suit, or getting new backpacks, or—"

She snorts, waving a hand. "Yeah, yeah, save the sob story. Whatever."

I can't help but laugh, tossing my bag over my shoulder. But then, as I'm about to head for the window, she hesitates, her tone shifting just slightly. "Hey, about that... job you mentioned at your aunt's restaurant. Were you serious?"

I turn to look at her, surprised by the question, I completely even forgotten I told her about that. "You planning on quitting the whole cat burglar thing?"

She arches an eyebrow. "We had a deal, didn't we?"

"Yeah, we did." I nod, a little more serious. "I'll talk to Aunt May when she gets back."

"Thanks," she says, and for a moment, it's almost soft, almost sincere.

I head toward the window, feeling like maybe this night hasn't been a complete disaster after all. But before I get too comfortable, Felicia calls out again.

"See you at the field trip tomorrow."

I freeze. "Field trip? What field trip?"

She gives me a look like I'm the dumbest person alive. "To Oscorp? The one the replacement for Dr. Octopus-Man has been yammering about for days?"

"What?! You've gotta be—"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"—kidding me," Harry says as we shuffle into first period, which, up until recently, was run by the infamous Dr. Otto Octavius. Or, as I like to call him, Octopus-Man. Yeah... probably need to workshop that name a bit more.

"What's up?" I ask as we drop into our usual seats.

Harry sighs, leaning his head on his hand. "The only reason we're even having this stupid field trip to Oscorp today is because my dad's trying to save face after that whole Octavius situation."

A field trip to Oscorp? It gets my brain turning again, that nagging thought about how everything lately seems connected to Oscorp, like an invisible web pulling at the edges. But no matter how much I think about it, I just can't see Norman Osborn being involved.

I mean, the guy's basically a saint. He does charity work for fun, and he's got a smile that could sell a million puppy calendars. Despite his distance...he's always been good to Harry... and to me.

There's no way. Right?

My train of thought derails as Felicia walks in, her black hoodie pulled up, slipping into her usual seat at the back. But something's different. A bruise on her neck? She doesn't look my way, and the unease settles in my stomach.

"Dude, I can't believe she played me," Harry mutters, his eyes on Felicia too. She's got her headphones on, completely tuned out, like she always does.

"Played you?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, but wondering if he's talking about something more.

"Yeah, man. I mean I bought her those headphones. And a bunch of other stuff too. She just used me," Harry grumbles, shaking his head. "I mean, if you were dating me, you wouldn't just be after my money, right?"

"What else do you have?"

"Uh, a great taste in pizza?" He grins, looking for a win.

"Yeah, definitely not that."

The bell rings, cutting our conversation short, and Ms. Winterhalter strides in. She's new—young, with short black hair and these intense green eyes. She's still a little shaky after what happened with Octavius. I mean, can you blame her? Her predecessor tried to murder us all, so... yeah, tough shoes to fill.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Good morning, class," she says with a nervous but warm smile. "As you know, we'll be spending the rest of the school day at Oscorp for a tour, so I hope you all packed your lunches."

I glance over at Gwen. She's sitting there, listening intently, that same smile on her face she always has when she's focused.

No Flash Thompson to interrupt with his insults, no Liz Allen to make fun of me for even thinking about talking to her.

Maybe today won't be so ba—wait. Nope. Can't jinx it. Close one, Parker. Keep it cool.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone piles onto the bus, chatting and laughing as they find their seats. I make my way down the aisle and spot Gwen sitting alone near the back.

She catches my eye and smiles, giving a little wave. My heart does a quick somersault, and before I can stop myself, Harry elbows me from behind.

"Go for it, dude," he whispers with a smirk.

My face heats up. Should I? Sitting next to Gwen Stacy can't be more terrifying than getting a building dropped on me, right?

I take a deep breath and walk toward her. "Need any company?" I ask, trying to sound casual, even though my brain is screaming abort, abort.

Gwen's smile widens. "What about Harry?"

I glance back, and sure enough, Harry's already cozied up next to some girl from our class, probably mid-story about how the building we're visiting is owned by his dad. Lucky jerk. "Looks like he found someone else to be his bus buddy."

She pats the seat beside her. "It's all yours, Mr. Parker."

I slide into the seat, relieved. "Thanks. Honestly, not sure I could've handled the embarrassment if you'd said no." Then, of course, I realize I've said that out loud.

Gwen laughs. "Maybe I should've, just to see the look on your face."

I play along. "I'd probably just start crying."

That gets another laugh. See? I am funny, villains. Take notes.

But then Gwen raises an eyebrow. "You never texted me back."

Uh-oh. I pull out my phone, which is still as shattered as my dignity most days. Sure enough, there's an unread message from Gwen.

She'd texted last night asking if I got my grade back. "Oh, man. I'm sorry, Gwen. Last night was... chaotic, and I totally spaced."

She covers her mouth, laughing. "Peter, relax. You're acting like you stood me up for prom or something. I was just messing with you. I only wanted to know if you aced the test."

I let out a breath. "Yeah, thanks to the second-best tutor in the world, I did."

"Second best?" She gives me a playful look. "I see how it is."

I grin. "I'm kidding. You're definitely the best tutor. I don't think I would've passed without you."

Her smile softens. "Maybe we should be each other's permanent study partners then."

My brain short-circuits. "Oh—uh—yeah! I mean, yes! That sounds—uh—yeah, totally!"

Gwen giggles. "Peter, what is going on with you today? You're so tense."

I rub the back of my neck, trying to save face. "I guess... I just get nervous talking to you sometimes."

Immediately, I want to crawl into the seat and disappear. Was that a stupid thing to say?

Gwen stares at me for a second, "really?"

Yep. That was a stupid thing to say.

"What I meant was—"

"I get it, Peter," she interrupts, her smile turning warmer.

"You... do?" I stammer, caught off guard.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. We're friends now, right? We don't have to be awkward around each other. I know we didn't talk much for a while, but I want to change that." She says with a smile.

Friends, huh?

"I'd really like that, Gwen," I say, meaning every word.

She holds out her hand. "Friends?"

"Friends," I say, shaking her hand with a smile that's only slightly forced.

I shouldn't feel disappointed. We're finally friends again after all that time apart. I should be happy, right?

Yeah... totally super happy.

And I am definitely not lying to myself right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bus pulls up to Oscorp Tower, its sleek, reflective surface catching the morning light as if the building itself was a beacon of the future. The students chatter excitedly, stepping off the bus in a scattered, buzzing group.

They crane their necks to take in the imposing structure, some even pulling out their phones to snap pictures of the tower's iconic logo gleaming above.

But for me, it's not the awe-inspiring sight that gets to me. It's the knot of tension winding itself up in my stomach.

The last time I was here, it wasn't for a school trip. I was hunting down Dr. Connors—the Lizard. Battling him upstairs, while trying to help him gain some control over himself. I still have the scars, and the memories of those police officers dead in the sewers...I try not to think about that night often.

"Earth to Peter," Harry's voice cuts through my thoughts, followed by his hand snapping in front of my face.

"Huh? What?" I blink, looking over at him.

"You're doing that zoning out thing again." He gives me a lopsided grin, but there's a weight behind it, something a little darker in his eyes. "C'mon, at least pretend to be interested."

I glance up at the Oscorp logo, feeling that familiar knot in my chest tighten.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," I say, forcing a smile. "Who wants to bet on how many times they avoid mentioning Dr. Octavius?"

Gwen sidles up next to us, elbowing me lightly. "I'll take five times."

"You're on," I say, finally shaking off the weird feeling that's been lingering since we pulled up. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Felicia hanging back, her hood up, keeping her distance from the group. She hasn't really talked much all day—though that's not exactly new.

An Oscorp employee in a sharp suit walks up to greet us at the front entrance, clipboard in hand and a professional smile plastered on his face. "Good morning, students! Welcome to Oscorp Industries. I'm Mr. Desmond, and I'll be your guide for today's tour. We're excited to show you some of the groundbreaking advancements we've made in evolutionary science and genetic engineering."

Oh great. The perfect field trip to walk straight into my least favorite topic. We all file inside, the building's sleek, polished interior reflecting back our excited faces in every glossy surface. I feel like I'm walking into the future—or maybe just another mess waiting to explode.

"As you all know, Oscorp is at the forefront of cutting-edge research," Mr. Desmond leads us down a hallway lined with displays of DNA models and sleek holographic projections of futuristic tech. "From bioengineering to robotics, we're constantly pushing the boundaries of human potential."

I lean closer to Gwen and mutter, "Yeah, 'cause that's never gone wrong before."

Gwen bites back a laugh, covering her mouth. "What? You're not excited to see the future of humanity's evolution?"

"Oh, totally," I deadpan. "Maybe this time the hybrid animal thing will be less 'giant lizard' and more 'friendly neighborhood squirrel.'"

She bumps her shoulder into mine. "I'm thinking more like... a spider. Just a hunch."

For a second, my heart does a weird flip, but I force a laugh, playing it off. "Yeah, no thanks, too many legs. Besides, no one even knows if Spider-Man got his powers from Oscorp anyway."

Gwen grins. "Well, either way, my dad said he saw the Spider-Man yesterday. Apparently, he was fighting some kind of bird guy? I can't believe he managed to survive being crushed by an entire building."

Her words hit me harder than I expect, a reminder of my bruised ego after losing to the bird suit guy. "Yeah... I heard about that," I mumble, rubbing the back of my neck.

Before Gwen can press further, Harry cuts in with a sigh. "What I can't believe is how my dad couldn't even bother to show up today."

Gwen frowns, tilting her head toward him. "Wait, he's not meeting us here?"

Harry shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, but I can hear the hurt in his voice. "Nah. He's probably off at some charity event or something. Y'know, doing the whole 'great guy' act."

I feel a pang of sympathy for Harry. For all Norman Osborn's public smiles and perfect philanthropist image, the guy's always distant when it comes to Harry. I reach out and clap Harry on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. "Hey, we don't need him. We'll make this fun anyway. Who needs a CEO hanging over our shoulders?"

"Exactly," Harry mutters, but his disappointment lingers in the air, hanging around him like a cloud.

As we move further into the facility, Mr. Desmond leads us to a large, futuristic lab space, its walls lined with glowing screens and rotating models of DNA. Holograms flicker to life, showing various stages of human evolution and genetic manipulation. "Here we are, students—Oscorp's Evolutionary Science Lab. This is where we explore the possibilities of enhancing human genetics, helping our species adapt to the challenges of tomorrow."

The sight of it all hits me hard. I can't help but think of Dr. Connors again.

This lab, this research—it was meant to help people, but according to him, it's the very thing that turned him into something he couldn't control. And apparently he's not the only one.

Gwen leans in close, her voice soft and gentle, like she's picking up on my mood. "Hey, you okay? You've been kinda off since we got here."

I give her a quick smile, trying to push the memories away. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... this place brings back a lot of memories. Not all of them great."

She gives me a knowing look but doesn't press. "Well, if you need a distraction, I'm here. Or, we could always make Harry sing for us again." She flashes a mischievous grin. "That worked last time, right?"

I can't help but laugh, remembering the karaoke disaster that nearly took out our eardrums. "I'll have to pass on that one thanks."

"I heard that," Harry says from ahead of us, turning with a mock glare.

We all laugh together, the tension lifting for a moment. It feels normal, like we're just a group of friends on a regular school trip. But as Mr. Desmond keeps talking about Oscorp's "vision for the future," I can't help but keep one eye on Felicia. She's still hanging back, detached, her expression unreadable.

Gwen catches me glancing at her and raises an eyebrow. "You ever going to talk to her? Or just keep staring like a creeper?"

"I'm not staring," I say, though my cheeks flush. "It's just... she's been off lately. More than usual."

Gwen nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, she definitely gives off that whole 'mysterious loner' vibe. Kinda like that comic I showed you, Miss Fury. But maybe you should, I don't know, try talking to her?"

I sigh. "It's not that simple. Felicia's... complicated."

"Most interesting people are," Gwen says with a smile, nudging me again. "But I'm pretty sure even complicated people need friends."

Her words stick with me as the tour continues. Maybe Gwen's right.

Maybe I should try and reach out to her, more than just needing her help when I need to get patched up. But as actual friends.

An hour passes, and we eventually break for lunch. Gwen, Harry, and I sit at a table in Oscorp's cafeteria, and I've got to admit, the food here is lightyears ahead of the disaster Mid-Town serves us.

Not that it's a high bar—last week, they found worms in the pasta.

"So, Harry," Gwen starts, chewing on her sandwich, "are you taking anyone to homecoming?"

Harry smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Probably Peter," he jokes, earning a laugh from Gwen. "What? We've been each other's dates for every school dance. It's not like he has many other options."

"Funny." I say, tapping my fingers on the table, trying to ignore the slight sting of truth in his words.

Gwen smiles at me, her eyes playful. "I don't know, I think Peter could find someone. He's a pretty great tutor. I hear that's what all the girls are into these days."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure," I say, rolling my eyes. "Every girl's dream—someone they can get to do their homework."

Harry snorts, while Gwen just shrugs with a grin.

But out of the corner of my eye, I see Felicia slipping away from the cafeteria, heading down a corridor that seems off-limits.

"Hey, Harry," I ask, leaning toward him, "where are the bathrooms?"

He glances up, pointing in the complete opposite direction from where Felicia just went. "Over there."

I frown. That's not where she was headed.

"I'll be right back," I say, standing up. Gwen and Harry both give me puzzled looks, but I wave it off and slip away from the table, keeping my head down as I follow Felicia's path.

The hallway I enter feels different—quieter, darker. Oscorp's usual pristine, high-tech atmosphere fades as I move deeper into the restricted area, the sounds of the cafeteria growing distant behind me.

It's abandoned, empty.

My footsteps echo off the sterile walls as I round a corner and spot an open door. Inside, standing casually by a table, is Felicia.

"Lost?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe. She turns, her expression hard at first, but softening when she sees it's me.

"What are you doing here, Parker?" she asks, tugging her hood a little higher, trying to stay hidden.

I step inside, narrowing my eyes. "Funny, I could ask you the same thing. You're not supposed to be here either. You're... taking stuff, aren't you?"

A sly smile spreads across her lips. "No, Parker. I'm stealing stuff."

My stomach tightens. "Felicia, this isn't a joke. Do you realize what you're doing? If you get caught, they could expel you, or worse—press charges. You said you were done with this kind of thing. What happened?"

She scoffs, the smile fading. "Yeah, well, things change."

That's when I notice the bruise again—the one she's been hiding with that oversized hood. "Does this... have something to do with that bruise you've been covering up?" My voice softens, and I take a tentative step closer.

Felicia's eyes flicker, her defenses momentarily dropping. "Yeah, well, I ran out of makeup after covering all your bruises," she mutters, shoving her hands into her pockets.

I hesitate, then gently reach for her hood, pulling it back as she stiffens. My fingers brush her hair aside, revealing the full extent of the bruise—an angry, dark purple splotch staining her pale skin. It's not the kind of mark you get from an accident. Someone did this to her.

"Felicia," I say quietly, my stomach twisting, "who did this to you?"

She slaps my hand away before I can say more, her voice sharp, like a blade cutting through the tension. "Don't, Parker. I'm not one of your charity cases. I don't need saving."

"I'm not trying to—"

Before I can finish, the lights around us flicker, then cut out entirely. The soft hum of the building's electronics is replaced by the blaring wail of alarms, echoing through the hallway. Thick, steel shutters slam down over the windows with a loud hiss, sealing us inside.

Felicia's eyes widen, her posture immediately alert. "What the hell is going on?"

I take a step toward the door, peering out into the hallway as my pulse races. "I don't know, but it can't be good."