Chapter 16 : Dinner Conversations - Threads of the Spider
I heard the front door open just as I left Wendy's room.
Keys jingled. The sound of heels tapped lightly against the wooden floor. Then came a familiar voice — warm, steady, carrying the tone of a mother coming home after a long day.
"I'm home, kids!"
Rosalie Orzat stepped into the hallway, her work jacket draped over one arm, the faint scent of her perfume lingering like a soft comfort that filled the house. Her eyes found me almost immediately, relief flickering across her features before concern settled in.
"There you are," she said, setting her things down on the console. "You really gave me a scare this morning. When I found you passed out, I thought for a second—" She stopped herself, exhaling slowly. "How are you feeling now?"
I offered her a calm, reassuring smile. "I'm okay, really. Just overdid it yesterday, I think. Skipped breakfast, barely slept. Nothing major."
Her brow softened, though her hands still hovered near me, as if ready to catch me again should I sway. "You need to take better care of yourself, Alexander."
That was my cue.
Not to lie — just to ease the adjustment. To smooth over the subtle differences before they became questions.
I reached for Mind Whisper, letting my thoughts flow softly toward her, a ripple of calm threading between us.
Her mind caught the suggestion like a gentle echo of her own voice:
He's fine. Just a bit tired. It's normal for him to change a little — he's growing, maturing. And calling him Alex feels more natural anyway.
Her expression eased, tension melting from her shoulders. A small smile curved her lips.
"Alright then, Alex," she said naturally, as though she'd always called me that. "Just don't scare me like that again, okay?"
Hearing it from her — Alex, without hesitation — was a small but solid victory. One more piece of this life settling into place.
We talked for a while longer — about her day at work, about Wendy, about dinner plans. I didn't push anything else, just let the normal rhythm of conversation do its work. Each word, each small exchange helped anchor me a little deeper in this world that was slowly becoming mine.
When she finally moved toward the kitchen, humming softly as she unpacked groceries, I lingered in the hallway, hands in my pockets, a quiet smile tugging at my lips.
The adjustment had worked. Subtle. Seamless. Just enough to keep everything steady.
The multiverse beyond these walls was full of chaos — heroes rising, powers awakening — but here, in this small slice of normalcy, things were falling perfectly into place.
And that was exactly what I needed.
The hum of the TV in the background, the subtle clinking of cutlery, and the warm scent of garlic and butter made the room feel disarmingly normal — a small island of everyday life amid the chaos of this universe.
For a moment, it almost felt like nothing had changed. Like I was just another normal guy, having dinner with his mom and little sister in Queens.
Wendy chatted as usual, full of energy and stories, while Mom smiled, listening with that quiet pride only mothers seem to master.
"So today," Wendy started between bites, "our class had this field trip to Oscorp! It was super cool — we got to see their labs and everything. Kinda smelled like… metal and disinfectant, though."
I raised an eyebrow, pretending casual interest. "Oscorp, huh? That's pretty big time. Who led the tour?"
"Oh! You'd like this part," she said, grinning. "It was actually Gwen Stacy — you know, your girlfriend." She nudged me with her elbow, smirking. "Guess she's, like, the official Oscorp intern now. Everyone in class was talking about how smart she was."
Gwen.
My mind flickered immediately to what I remembered of her — Oscorp, Dr. Connors, and everything that usually came after.
If this was around the time Peter Parker got bitten by that spider, then… that moment could've already happened. Or it was about to.
I leaned in slightly, keeping my tone easy. "Did anything… weird happen during the tour? Equipment malfunction, accidents, maybe someone got sent home early?"
Wendy tilted her head, thinking. "Not really. Everything went fine, I think. Oh — one of the kids almost tripped over a cable, but that's about it."
I nodded, masking my frustration with a sip of water. No big clue, no confirmation. Either it hadn't happened yet… or it was being covered up.
Still, that little piece of information was enough to mark a timeline in my head.
Oscorp visit. Gwen as the intern. Peter's class in attendance. Yeah — everything was falling right into place.
Wendy kept talking — about how Gwen seemed "way too nice for someone that smart," about how one of her classmates asked for Gwen's number and got politely shot down.
Rosalie laughed, shaking her head. "Sounds like you had quite the day, sweetheart."
"Yup! Best one this week," Wendy said brightly, then glanced at me. "You should've seen her, Alex — totally professional. You'd have been proud."
"I am," I said honestly. And I was — both of Gwen's brilliance… and of knowing exactly how important this moment might turn out to be.
Dinner carried on in easy conversation and soft laughter.
But beneath it all, my mind kept looping back to one detail — Oscorp.
Wendy had mentioned it so casually, talking between bites about how her class had gone on a field trip there. How they'd been guided through the facility by Gwen. My Gwen. My girlfriend who, in another universe, didn't just date Peter Parker — she was Spider-Woman.
That detail had gnawed at me all through dinner.
Because in any version of this world — MCU, comics, or some twisted hybrid between the two — one truth always held: there was always a Spider.
Whether it was Peter, Gwen, Miles, or someone else entirely, the bite — that event — was inevitable.
It wasn't a question of if.
Only who and when.
And if Gwen had been the one guiding a group of high school students through Oscorp today… then the odds were disturbingly high that this was the day.
When dinner ended, Wendy stayed in the kitchen helping Mom clean up, chatting about her favorite teacher and some embarrassing class story. I excused myself, claiming I had homework to finish. In truth, I just needed space — and answers.
Back in my room, I sat on the bed, phone in hand. The soft blue light of the screen reflected off the posters on my wall as I opened Gwen's contact. For a moment, I hesitated — then started typing.
Alex: Hey, Wen told me her class dropped by Oscorp today. How'd it go?
Must've been weird corralling a bunch of high schoolers through a lab full of hazardous materials.
A few minutes passed before she replied.
Gwen: Oh yeah, that. It was kind of chaotic, honestly — a bunch of teenagers gawking at tech they didn't understand. 😅
Still, not too bad. Just your usual day at Oscorp.
Just your usual day at Oscorp.
I almost laughed — there was no such thing as "usual" in that building.
If Norman Osborn or Curt Connors were involved, "normal" meant something dangerous hiding behind a clean lab coat.
Alex: Glad it went okay. Just… be careful around Connors, alright? The guy's brilliant, but sometimes brilliance crosses the line into crazy.
Gwen: Haha, I know. He's intense, but he means well.
Don't worry, I can handle him.
Her response was light, unbothered.
No mention of anything strange — no accident, no bite, nothing.
To her, it really must've been just another workday.
But my gut said otherwise.
Something had happened today. It had to.
If this world followed the same rhythm as every other version I knew, then somewhere in Oscorp — maybe in a forgotten lab corner, maybe in a ventilation shaft — a spider had done its job.
A single bite that would ripple through everything that came next.
And whether that bite had found Gwen in the apartment next door… or Peter Parker across the corridor … or both — the result was the same.
The Spider was born.
Maybe two of them.
I set my phone down, leaning back as the city lights painted faint streaks across my window. Somewhere out there, one or both of them were living their perfectly ordinary lives — completely unaware that the world had already started to change around them.
And somewhere out there, the web of destiny had already started to spin — and I was the only one who knew it.