Marvel: The Enlightened One#39+40: Dinner with Stacy Family, Gwen's Two Little Brothers

"For real?"

"It was a success?"

Hawk hung up the phone after his call with Dr. Connors, a feeling of genuine surprise washing over him.

After all, he had assumed that in a world with the Tobey Maguire Spider-Man but no Andrew Garfield version, Dr. Connors's regeneration experiment was doomed to fail.

But it seemed…

Hawk stood up and walked out of his bedroom, his mind replaying the conversation.

Dr. Connors had been ecstatic, so he’d shared a few more details with Hawk.

During the latest trial with the lab mice, they had expected the same result as all the previous attempts: failure.

But then, something unexpected happened.

One of the lab mice, after being injected with the lizard serum, had flatlined. But a few minutes later, its life signs had reappeared. Not only that, but the tail it had lost during an escape attempt last month began to regrow at a visible rate.

The discovery had left Dr. Connors absolutely thrilled.

Hawk thought it was fascinating.

But the feeling only lasted for a moment.

He sat down at his folding table, opened the secondhand, "gently-used-by-a-pretty-girl" laptop he'd bought from Skye for five hundred bucks, and pushed the thought of Dr. Connors's success to the back of his mind.

He was far more interested in the situation at Quantico.

Soon, after a quick search online, Hawk's expression grew strange once again.

No intrusion...

Only a training exercise.

A D.C. newspaper had reported on the alarms at the Quantico base.

But in the article, a base spokesperson denied any such intrusion, stating that it had simply been a routine training exercise. Unfortunately, during the exercise, a building had unexpectedly collapsed, and a dozen soldiers had been tragically killed.

Yep. Quantico was covering it up.

It was to be expected.

This was Quantico—home of the US Military, right next door to the FBI Academy, a stone's throw from the CIA's headquarters in Langley. Under those circumstances, there was no way in hell the military would ever admit that one of their most secure bases had been breached.

As for anything else—

Hawk searched, but found nothing.

There were no reports about the body of the young driver he'd killed.

Either he hadn't been found yet, or his death simply wasn't newsworthy.

After all, a lot of nobodies died for a lot of reasons every single day. A nameless, faceless punk disappearing without a trace wasn't going to make the headlines.

Hawk shook his head, closed the laptop, and went back to his bedroom to sleep.

...

The next morning, Hawk was woken up by his phone.

He opened his eyes, saw the familiar picture frame on his nightstand, and then reached for the phone, which was still charging.

"Hello?"

"Come downstairs."

"..."

Hawk's brain took a second to reboot. He sat up, pulled on a t-shirt, and walked to the living room window. He looked down and saw her, standing across the street next to her yellow Corolla, waving up at him.

Gwen.

Oh, right.

His girlfriend, Gwen!

It still felt unreal.

Let me say that again.

Gwen Stacy is my girlfriend!!

Hawk thought to himself, a slow smile spreading across his face. He waved back, then hung up and headed for the door.

A few moments later.

He emerged from the building, crossed the street, and walked up to her.

"What's up?"

"Are you free tonight? My mom wants you to come over for dinner."

"Uh..."

Hawk's mind raced. He looked at the hopeful, expectant look in Gwen's eyes and, after a moment, nodded.

"Okay."

"So, what are you doing now?"

"Um, probably head to the library. Do some reading."

"..."

Hawk saw the look on Gwen's face—a gentle, knowing smile—and let out a small laugh. "No, for real this time. I'm actually going to the library."

School started tomorrow after all.

Senior year. The last year of high school. If things went according to plan, the admissions officers from NYU would be coming by this semester for final interviews and to confirm scholarships.

He might have acted like he didn't care if he got into NYU or not.

But if he could, he still wanted to go. It had been his dream, before all of this, to study law at NYU, to become a prosecutor, maybe even a judge.

And he had worked his ass off for the past three years to make it happen.

Gwen studied his face for a moment, then her own broke into a brilliant smile.

"Then let's go."

"Where?"

"To the library, right? I have to go too. We can study, and then I can give you a ride home. But first, you have to come with me to Oscorp."

"Get in."

Hawk watched as she walked around to the driver's side, opened her door, and gestured for him to get in. He didn't hesitate, pulling open the passenger door and sliding into the seat.

Just as he'd said, he really was going to the library to study today.

It was all about work-life balance.

Deep within his Cosmo, the Phoenix star chart glowed, a spectral phoenix shimmering within it. The brilliant, chaotic energy of the Gammanium he had absorbed from Quantico swirled through the constellation.

The Phoenix was still working, improving the raw power.

They spent the entire day together. After a quick stop at Oscorp, they went to the library and studied in comfortable silence.

He was aiming for NYU.

She was aiming for Berkeley.

They were both working toward their futures.

<><><><><><><><>

Manhattan, the Goring Building.

Helen Stacy, who had been a devoted wife and mother ever since she married George Stacy, was in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

Her two sons, nine-year-old Howard and eight-year-old Simon—Gwen's younger brothers—were in the living room, watching TV as if their lives depended on it.

Yes. Because the moment their mother was free, she would march them off to do their homework.

As Helen often said, "Your sister Gwen is so smart. You all came from the same place, you should be smart too."

In reality, Howard and Simon weren't bad students, but they were perpetually hovering right on the edge of a passing grade, and sometimes, they slipped.

Case in point: their final exams this year had been a disaster. As a result, Helen had cut their daily hour of screen time in half.

Just then.

The doorbell rang.

"Howard, Simon, time to go to your rooms and study," Helen called out from the kitchen.

"...Okay."

Helen walked into the living room, gave her two sons a pointed look, and then watched as they trudged upstairs to their rooms. She went to the front door and opened it.

Standing on the other side, Hawk smiled at the woman who opened the door—a woman whose first impression was one of pure, gentle warmth. "Good evening, Mrs. Stacy."

Helen's eyes widened in a welcoming smile. "Good evening, Hawk. Please, come in."

Hawk said his thanks and was immediately pulled inside by Gwen.

This was the first time in this life that Hawk had ever been a guest in someone else's home.

Gwen's apartment was on the top floor, a two-story duplex. It wasn't massive, but every corner of it exuded a sense of warmth and tidiness.

Hearing the voices downstairs, George Stacy descended from his second-floor study, his face a mask of stern disapproval.

Gwen, who had been introducing Hawk to her mother, heard the footsteps on the stairs. "Dad."

Hawk looked up and gave a respectful nod. "Mr. Stacy."

George's expression was severe, his posture rigid. He looked like a man who had forgotten how to smile.

But at least this was better than yesterday.

This time, he actually grunted in acknowledgement before walking past them to the dining table without another word.

Helen just shook her head with an amused smile. "Hawk, please, have a seat. Dinner's ready."

Hawk said his thanks again and followed Gwen to the table. He gave another slight nod to George, who was now seated across from him, and took his own seat.

Helen then called upstairs.

"Howard, Simon, dinner!"

"Coming!"

The two boys, who had been waiting for this moment, came thundering down the stairs. They stopped short when they saw the stranger at their dining table, then slowly took their seats, their eyes fixed on Hawk.

Hawk met their gaze and extended his right hand to the older boy.

"Hi, Howard. I'm Hawk."

"I'm Howard."

"I'm Simon."

Eight-year-old Simon stood up, shook Hawk's hand with his own small one, and then looked up at him, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Are you my sister's boyfriend?"

"..." Hawk's eyes flickered to George.

Yep. The captain's face had gone several shades darker.

Hawk smiled and nodded at the young, blonde-haired boy. "I am."

At that, George's face went even darker.

Gwen, however, just smiled and ruffled her little brother's hair.

Nice one, little bro.

She decided she'd give him ten bucks before bed as a reward.

Howard, on the other hand, would get nothing.

The dinner was served in typical American fashion—individual plates, not family style.

This was probably George's doing.

After all, Hawk was an outsider. Unless you were a lifelong family friend, the first time you came to dinner, it was always formal.

Hawk understood.

But regardless of how it was served, the food was excellent.

This was, without a doubt, the best meal he had eaten in this life.

The school cafeteria food didn't even count. And when he was alone, Hawk never cared about flavor or presentation. He just ate to fill his stomach, because just surviving was hard enough.

...

At the dinner table, George presided like a silent, watchful patriarch, eating his meal without a word.

Helen was occasionally asking Hawk if he was enjoying the food and making light, easy conversation.

Gwen acted as a buffer between her mother and her boyfriend, while also keeping a wary eye on her father, half-expecting him to explode at any moment.

Howard and Simon just happily ate their food.

Just then, George picked up his glass of whiskey, took a sip, and cleared his throat.

In an instant, all eyes were on him.

Here we go again...

Hawk thought to himself, his own gaze shifting to meet the captain's, who had been watching him out of the corner of his eye the entire meal.

Just as George was about to speak, Helen caught the desperate, pleading look in Gwen's eyes. She hid a smile and cut in first.

"So, George, tell us about work. That Spider-Man, have you caught him yet?"

"..."

George shot a look at his wife, then at Gwen, and finally, his eyes settled on Hawk. "Not yet. But we will. He's an amateur, and he's leaving clues everywhere."

With that, without giving Helen or Gwen another chance to interrupt, he turned his full attention to Hawk. "So, Hawk, what's your take on this new Spider-Man? Do you think he's some kind of vigilante?"

Under the table, Gwen's hand gently squeezed Hawk's thigh.

Hawk got the message. He just smiled and shook his head.

"Sir, I've been in Maryland for the past few weeks. I just got back yesterday, and I spent all day at the library."

"Honestly—"

"—I'm just a student. My only concern right now is getting a scholarship to NYU so the bank will approve my student loan application."

"As for this Spider-Man... I don't really care if he's a vigilante or just some idiot looking for attention."

"..."