AN: Sorry this literally took FOREVER to write, but I was kind of out of ideas on how to end it nicely, and I'm kind of a perfectionist.

But a couple of people who went through the trouble to post somewhat frantic pleas on my other story, namely "youre beautiful", "nonofyourbuisnes", and another guest who thought "I died or something" (plus my awesome friends Salma and Serene) convinced me to just finish it. So here, I finished it.

And I kind of like the ending.

I hope you do too. And I'm sorry guys.

PS: If you guys are into BBC Sherlock, I'm writing a fic about that. I promise I'm gonna finish that one. But then again the best promises are those that are meant to be broken. JUST KIDDING (Sorry for the shameless self promotion)

I look at where Peter lies on the ground in a huddled mass, and I vaguely hear Philip order his thugs to tie him up with something stronger this time in the background. I don't know who this kid thinks he is, but he's going down. I straighten myself up and take a deep breath.

"TIE HER UP!" Philip yells at his thugs, wildly gesturing at me. And as the gigantic thugs slowly approach me from both sides, I shut my eyes and begin to count. Just as the thugs reach for me; just as I reach to the count of 57, I run towards Philip and let out the loudest, most menacing yell I could muster.

I reach Philip and knock him down violently, grabbing his stun gun and stunning his guards with strange and uncharacteristic precision. I decide not to question my newfound perfect aim, reasoning that it's probably like some natural instinct, and quickly aim it in the middle of Philip's forehead.

"Oh, feisty feisty Gwendolyn." Philip says, his face spreading into a knowing smile. I press the gun harder to his forehead. And suddenly, Philip starts to convulse beneath me. GROSS! I immediately stand up in disgust and see that Philip isn't convulsing in a kinky way, yet more in a limb-mutilating-transformation way. I watch in horror as his legs suddenly sprout 6 feet out. His chest then starts to just puff up; his ears start to balloon. Oh lord, there's no telling what's gonna happen. And as I watch him puff up in size and turn in to a strange orange-y hue, I feel sinking feeling in my gut telling me that this probably isn't gonna end well.

As he continues to swell and go oranger, it occurs to me; I've got a gun. I quickly examine it and find a knob with complicated little words, but I see that it can be twisted to one side completely, and it has a little cross bone skull sign on it. How cliche. I twist it all the way to the left, towards the "certain doom" option, and aim it towards Philip. My hands shake as I try to get myself to pull the trigger, but I just can't do it, but suddenly I feel a pair of meaty hands gripping the tops of my arms like a toddler's from behind me with a crushing force. I drop the gun and feel something hit me hard on the back of my head.

The last thing I see as I black out is Philip starting to turn purple as he continues to go gargantuan.

The first thing I'm aware of is how hard my brain is throbbing against me skull. I try to wrench open my eyes, but they feel like they're glued shut. Where am I?

"Gwen?" I hear a soft, warmly familiar voice whisper from my side. Peter.

I open my eyes, fueled by the sound of his voice, and see Peter, his face dirty and caked with dust and grime, a worried grimace drawn across his features. But that grimace evaporates as our eyes meet.

"W-what happened?" I say shakily, my voice barely audible. He shushes me and pulls his mask back on.

"P-ph-ph" I stutter, trying to raise myself to look a bit less pathetic

"Philip exploded, you got knocked out by those thugs, and I made sure they paid for that. Handsomely." Peter says, lifting me tenderly in his arms, and starts walking off towards where the ambulance is standing, surrounded by cop cars.

I rest my head against his chest, feeling content that I'm in a familiar comfortable place rather than on the hard, gross floor. I sigh peacefully, but then what Peter said hits me.

"Philip ex-EXPLODED?" I say, throwing my head up and bumping into Peter's hard chin. "OW!"

"Oh my God, Gwen are you alright?" He whispers worriedly, looking down at me, probably cringing under his mask.

"That isn't important right now. HOW DID HE EXPLODE?" I cry hysterically. You sure miss a lot when you're knocked out cold.

"Shhhh" He says as we finally reach the ambulance.

"But Pe- I mean Spiderman how did he-"

"She got knocked out cold by those thugs, she might have a concussion, but she's definitely in shock." Peter says as he gently plops me down on a stretcher, turning to the ambulance man

"You mean the thugs who's spines you fractured in 3 different places?" The ambulance man says pointedly, as he takes my blood pressure.

"You WHAT?" I yell furiously. Peter cant go around cracking people's spines because they were following orders, albeit violent ones.

"I wasn't about to let them get away with hurting such a pretty lady." Spiderman says pointedly, now putting on his "let's pretend we're perfect strangers so no one would try to hurt you to get to me" act. He looks around the crime scene, and sees the police approaching where he's standing beside my stretcher.

"Well, I think it's about time for me to dash. You take care of this young lady, Mr Ambulance Man." Peter says. He gives me one last lingering look and then turns to run just as the police start to get close to where he was standing. They break into a run after him as he launches himself in the air with the help of a web, and starts to swing away into the sunset, leaving me to ride in this ambulance alone, as I apparently have a bad concussion and need to be checked out immediately.


"Here's your food Ms Stacey. And you have a visitor" And sure enough, behind the kind elderly nurse stands my boyfriend, looking ruffled, his hair windblown. He smiles guiltily from behind the nurse and gives me a little wave.

"Thank you." I say, lifting my head from where it was resting on the comfortable pillows and giving the nice nurse a smile as she sets the tray of icky hospital food.

"Don't upset her, young man, she needs her rest." The nurse says as she slowly makes her way out of the little hospital room I'm staying in.

She finally leaves, shutting the door behind her, and Peter approaches the bed looking super guilty and sad. I think I know what he thinks he's about to do.

"Peter, you did not put me in danger. You are definitely NOT the reason I am in this hospital bed right now. So if you were thinking of breaking up with me on the grounds of having put me in danger, you can't really break up with me for that reason as I was the one to put myself in danger, quite unintentionally. Could you pass me a tissue?" I say monotonously in one breath as I begin to open the little strawberry yoghurt tub on my tray. Peter sighs and reaches into his backpack, and plops a little brown paper bag on my side.

I look up at him, puzzled, and open it to see that he brought me my favorite; a PP&J sandwich with the crusts cut off and a green apple. I smile widely at him, forgetting the dinky little tub of yoghurt, and pull them out of the bag as he removes the tray from my lap wordlessly. I take a nice big bite out of my apple and say, "I never knew anyone who brought the person they were planning on dumping food before. You're too sweet, Peter." He just smiles at me sadly.

I take another bite of my apple. "Could you please say something?"

"How does your head feel?" He whispers shakily, his head hanging low, attempting not to make eye contact. I roll my eyes and set the apple on the bag, leaning forward to grab his wrists. He lifts his head to meet my eyes and gives me a small smile.

"I'm 100% fine. Just a mild concussion. I've had worse."

"It could've went worse if Philip didn't blow up."

"Why DID he blow up?" I say, dropping his hands to finish eating my apple. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I had some proper food within reach.

"According to what I heard off my police radio, the bits of him that the coroner preformed an autopsy on indicated that he tried to genetically alter himself."

"Oh." I take another crunchy bite from my apple.

"I guess he found out the source of my super powers."

"Hmm." I say, putting the apple core back into the bag and taking out the sandwich.

"He was trying to impress you." I take a nice big bite of my sandwich.

"This is a really good sandwich."


"Look Peter, YOU didn't put me in danger. He just had a thing for me, in a really mentally unstable way."

"He wouldn't have kidnapped you if-"

"If I agreed to go out with him? What does that have to do with you?"

"I promised your dad to-"

"Keep me safe?" Okay, I've had enough of this crap. "Look Peter, if it weren't for you, he would've probably gotten me killed. You ARE doing what you promised my dad to do. You're keeping me safe. And-" He shuts me up by gently kissing me.

And I kiss him back, because I'm hoping this kiss means that he realized that he was being dumb. He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead on mine. "You're right." He mumbles.

"Aren't I always?" He chuckles and kisses me again, his hands gently resting in my hair and my arms tenderly reaching to encircle his neck.

Eventually, a very surprised nurse interrupts us and we break away from each other, giving each other sheepish side glances. She gives me my medicine and informs me that the hospital will be discharging me tomorrow morning, and that she just called my mother at work, who asked the hospital to inform her when I wake up again, and that she's on her way.

The nurse leave, Peter jokes around, I eat and laugh. He gently climbs into my hospital bed as we start to kiss again, and we sit quietly in each other's arms, enjoying each other's company until my mother runs into the room hurriedly and throws herself on me, causing Peter to sheepishly eject himself out of my hospital bed. She sits with Peter and I, and leaves after a while to go back to my brothers who are waiting at home. Peter climbs into my bed as soon as she leaves once more, and stays with me. We talk and laugh together until the sun goes down.

And as Peter goes out the door to go to the little Chinese restaurant across the street from the hospital to get us some dinner, I think that I'm glad that Peter made that promise to my dad. Because he and I both know that the best, most important promises made are those that are meant to be broken.