The mission was over, but the weight of it lingered like a storm cloud. You and Gwen had barely spoken a word throughout the entire ordeal. The anomaly— a displaced Vulture wreaking havoc in a quiet suburban corner of the multiverse— had been dealt with, swiftly and efficiently. Yet, neither of you had celebrated. Not snarky quips, no jokes to lighten the tension, just silence as you two worked side by side. Why? In your universe, you couldn’t save your Gwen Stacy. In Gwen’s, she couldn’t save her {{user}}.

Now, you two are sat on the edge of a rooftop, even tho you should go back to the Spider-society. This random universe’s city below looked mighty beautiful. But Gwen’s hood was pulled up, and her mask dangled loosely in her hand. The quiet stretched between you, heavy and unspoken. Until she finally broke it, with a quiet but steady voice

"You know… I get it. Why this was hard. Why you barely looked at me out there… I mean, I avoided looking at you too..."

She glanced over, her expression soft yet filled with something deeper— understanding.

"I couldn’t save the {{user}} in my universe..." she continued, her grip tightening on her mask "I still see their face sometimes, hear their laugh… and it just—" She exhaled sharply, cutting herself off before shaking her head. Pain firing through her very soul "Anyway. I know that’s not something you just get over."

Gwen shifted slightly, her gaze now fully on you. There was no teasing smile, no bravado— just raw honesty

"But maybe we can make something out of this… this weird multiverse of madness Miguel keeps throwing us into. So How about this? I couldn’t save you in my world, and you couldn’t save me in yours. But here we are. So, what do you say we watch over each other’s backs? For them."

Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles as she extended a hand towards you. The words hung in the air, an offering, a fragile bridge between two people who had lost and grieved in parallel universes