[ how? how? gwen feels like they had just been texting, but- maybe it had been a few days since he last responded to her. and she did leave a small group of symbiote spiders with him, but her spider-sense had been going off like crazy this whole time. maybe one of those was a warning that diarmuid was in danger, but she didn't realize. plus, he had been so insistent that he was okay, that she should keep helping out in the pit, and helping those in the tents.
she should have known. how the hell did she not see straight through that?
meanwhile, the symbiote's voice is in the back of her head, angry and distressed
HE'S RIGHT HERE. WE SEE HIM.
which is confusing, to say the least. she doesn't respond to the post because she has to go, has to see for herself. she's way past due for a shower and a nap, after being in and out of the pit trying to find the right components for a cure, but all of that seems like background noise now. what's the point, if her friend already died? what's the point.
it takes her a little while to get up the nerve to go, because for all she knows this is another stupid deerington trap. maybe she's the only one that can see that post. maybe everyone sees a post like that, but with someone they care about here. no, she doesn't feel like diarmuid's caretaker, that he even really needs one, but in this? maybe. yeah. she got him out, helped him with a brace to make his walk back home easier.
why didn't she just go with him? why wasn't she there for him?
she takes off with her webs as best as she can, though this town isn't exactly great for webswinging. she runs on rooftop, sprints, until she hits the woods and can get back to swinging. it's dark, but she can remember the way well enough. eventually she gets there, panicked and maybe a tiny bit hopeful, but she's trying so damn hard not to be.
HE'S HERE. HE'S ASLEEP.
who knew her symbiote could be so stubborn?
when she gets to his cabin, she hits the ground running, only slowing down because whether or not the post was real, it still warned of giant birds. so. maybe she won't burst in there. but she doesn't knock, she just pushes her way in, because yeah- let there be a monster, let there be some trap she can punch and tear her way through. it's better than the reality of things, at least.
it's dark in the cabin, as cold as it is outside, and there are those two birds. they look her way, but don't seem to care that she's there. her senses make it easy to find things in the dark, but she still finds a candle first, the book of matches next to it. which makes things creepy, sure, but whatever.
SEE? HE'S HERE.
sleeping, right? he said that he was just- ]
Shit!
[ the birds do startle at that, but. look. her symbiote doesn't seem to understand what's actually there, but gwen can make it out in the low light right away. that isn't him. it's a ghost.
a ghost that's curled up in bed, but still a ghost. it's got that glow.
not that she knows shit about ghosts, but she just- knows.
and she drops, right there next to the bed, because what the hell else can she do? there's nothing.
there's nothing because she failed. failed at protecting her friend from literally the worst of this whole mess.
he was just a kid.
the tears drop down her cheeks more than just slide, fat and angry and relentless. she wants to yell, and scream, and kill something, but she's just crying now, sitting cross-legged on the floor with blurred vision, watching the final moments of his life loop over and over and over again. and it doesn't help that the symbiote is just mad, confused, and feeling betrayed. it thought it understood. but gwen's guilt is reflected ten-fold in the voice in the back of her head, apologizing for not knowing better, for not understanding. gwen never thought she'd have to teach the thing what it looks like when someone is sick, and dying. her dad was in the hospital, but he woke up. it's never dealt with this before.
it's just... a lot.
mostly, she just hates herself for not knowing, for not being more attentive. she was so caught up in the bigger picture she lost track of just keeping in touch with the people she cares about here.
fuck.
why did it have to be him? he was supposed to go to school and make a million more friends and meet his favorite teacher and get his first bad grade and decide if he liked math or science or literature best, or maybe none of it. not- this.
she loses track of time, after a bit, but it's at least long enough for that initial rage to dissipate, which is good. she doesn't need to go back out into the world with that in her eyes, because it never brings out anything good. and she needs to get back out there, she needs to help. she needs to find this fucking cure so this kid didn't die alone for no fucking reason.
okay, maybe she's still a little mad.
but her eyes are dry by the time she stands up again, dusting off her clothes, and heading back out.
yeah, she needs to get back out there and help.
but first, she's physically checking in with every frickin' person she knows here. this isn't happening again. ever. it can't. she won't let it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
here but not here;
she should have known. how the hell did she not see straight through that?
meanwhile, the symbiote's voice is in the back of her head, angry and distressed
HE'S RIGHT HERE. WE SEE HIM.
which is confusing, to say the least. she doesn't respond to the post because she has to go, has to see for herself. she's way past due for a shower and a nap, after being in and out of the pit trying to find the right components for a cure, but all of that seems like background noise now. what's the point, if her friend already died? what's the point.
it takes her a little while to get up the nerve to go, because for all she knows this is another stupid deerington trap. maybe she's the only one that can see that post. maybe everyone sees a post like that, but with someone they care about here. no, she doesn't feel like diarmuid's caretaker, that he even really needs one, but in this? maybe. yeah. she got him out, helped him with a brace to make his walk back home easier.
why didn't she just go with him? why wasn't she there for him?
she takes off with her webs as best as she can, though this town isn't exactly great for webswinging. she runs on rooftop, sprints, until she hits the woods and can get back to swinging. it's dark, but she can remember the way well enough. eventually she gets there, panicked and maybe a tiny bit hopeful, but she's trying so damn hard not to be.
HE'S HERE. HE'S ASLEEP.
who knew her symbiote could be so stubborn?
when she gets to his cabin, she hits the ground running, only slowing down because whether or not the post was real, it still warned of giant birds. so. maybe she won't burst in there. but she doesn't knock, she just pushes her way in, because yeah- let there be a monster, let there be some trap she can punch and tear her way through. it's better than the reality of things, at least.
it's dark in the cabin, as cold as it is outside, and there are those two birds. they look her way, but don't seem to care that she's there. her senses make it easy to find things in the dark, but she still finds a candle first, the book of matches next to it. which makes things creepy, sure, but whatever.
SEE? HE'S HERE.
sleeping, right? he said that he was just- ]
Shit!
[ the birds do startle at that, but. look. her symbiote doesn't seem to understand what's actually there, but gwen can make it out in the low light right away. that isn't him. it's a ghost.
a ghost that's curled up in bed, but still a ghost. it's got that glow.
not that she knows shit about ghosts, but she just- knows.
and she drops, right there next to the bed, because what the hell else can she do? there's nothing.
there's nothing because she failed. failed at protecting her friend from literally the worst of this whole mess.
he was just a kid.
the tears drop down her cheeks more than just slide, fat and angry and relentless. she wants to yell, and scream, and kill something, but she's just crying now, sitting cross-legged on the floor with blurred vision, watching the final moments of his life loop over and over and over again. and it doesn't help that the symbiote is just mad, confused, and feeling betrayed. it thought it understood. but gwen's guilt is reflected ten-fold in the voice in the back of her head, apologizing for not knowing better, for not understanding. gwen never thought she'd have to teach the thing what it looks like when someone is sick, and dying. her dad was in the hospital, but he woke up. it's never dealt with this before.
it's just... a lot.
mostly, she just hates herself for not knowing, for not being more attentive. she was so caught up in the bigger picture she lost track of just keeping in touch with the people she cares about here.
fuck.
why did it have to be him? he was supposed to go to school and make a million more friends and meet his favorite teacher and get his first bad grade and decide if he liked math or science or literature best, or maybe none of it. not- this.
she loses track of time, after a bit, but it's at least long enough for that initial rage to dissipate, which is good. she doesn't need to go back out into the world with that in her eyes, because it never brings out anything good. and she needs to get back out there, she needs to help. she needs to find this fucking cure so this kid didn't die alone for no fucking reason.
okay, maybe she's still a little mad.
but her eyes are dry by the time she stands up again, dusting off her clothes, and heading back out.
yeah, she needs to get back out there and help.
but first, she's physically checking in with every frickin' person she knows here. this isn't happening again. ever. it can't. she won't let it. ]