Chapter Thirty-Seven: First Learn to Be Yourself

Arriving at the New York Sanctum, he stepped through the portal to Kamar-Taj.

"Master Ancient One."

The Ancient One turned and saw Michael.

"Are you here to bid me farewell?"

"Yes," Michael replied with a smile. "I've already taken up so much of your time. Thank you for all your care. If I truly fail, I hope you won't hesitate."

The Ancient One returned his smile. "I won't. And please, give my regards to the angel."

Give her regards to the angel? Had she discovered Keisha? Or perhaps she'd glimpsed something intriguing in the future?

"I will," Michael said, not daring to linger, and turned to leave.

Keisha spoke: "Theoretically, she shouldn't be able to confirm my existence. Perhaps it's that gemstone—maybe it let her glimpse what will happen."

Michael nodded. So, his experiment had succeeded.

Keisha continued, "Don't worry. If anything unexpected happens, I'll handle it. And don't forget—your body belongs to me, too."

Michael smiled. "Thank you."

Experiments always felt like walking to the gallows; even when you know the likely outcome, you can't help but be afraid. And with anything involving genetics, there's always the risk of mutation—no such thing as absolute perfection.

That was why Michael insisted on doing it himself, though fear gnawed at him. The odds of disaster were slim, but if it happened to you, you were doomed.

So he clung to Gwen, spending an entire day with her, doing everything they'd missed out on before.

Antibody cultivation took time, so Michael gave himself another injection of Gwen’s serum.

Suddenly, a knock at the door. Michael opened it to find Mrs. Martha.

"It's been so long since I've seen you, Michael."

Her concern made Michael feel anxious inside.

"I've been working on some experiments, so I needed time alone," he replied.

Martha took his arm, looking at him intently.

"Look me in the eye, Michael. I asked Norman Osborn, and even he doesn’t know what you’ve been up to. Tell me—are you in trouble?"

Michael, feeling strangely guilty, could only dodge, "Martha, I'm fine, truly. I promise."

"You promise?" Martha eyed him with suspicion.

For some reason, Michael didn't want Martha to worry about him.

"I promise."

Martha studied him closely. "Michael, when you lie, your eyes dart away and sometimes you wrinkle your nose. Did you know that?"

Michael frowned. He hadn't realized these habits.

Worried, Martha pressed, "Michael, you must be hiding something from me. You've always been like this since you were a child."

Michael shook his head. "Martha, trust me, nothing will happen."

"Tell me first—what you're about to do, is it dangerous?"

"No, Martha. It's not dangerous. I've prepared thoroughly for over ten years. You’ll see a healthy Michael in just a few days."

Martha caught his meaning. "Michael, you're treating yourself?"

She grew anxious. "Every drug needs long trials. If you must treat yourself, let someone else go first. I don't want to lose you, or see you put yourself in danger."

Michael shook his head. "Martha, I've already experimented. The risk is extremely low."

"Michael, promise me—you have to be all right."

"I promise, Martha."

With his assurance, Martha prepared to leave, but halfway out, she turned back. "Michael, if you're scared, call that girl Gwen. I can tell you really like her."

"All right, I will."

Seeing him agree, Martha finally left, satisfied.

Michael sighed. In this house, Martha was the only source of warmth left to him.

"Hey."

Gwen’s voice came from the window above.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Michael felt a little embarrassed.

"I was looking for you," Gwen replied, climbing in and taking off her mask.

"When did you get here?" Remembering Martha's words, Michael blushed.

"Just now," Gwen replied with a playful grin, sticking out her tongue.

Michael breathed a sigh of relief.

"Did you need something?"

Michael's room was sparsely furnished: only a bed, a wardrobe, a chair, and a desk.

Gwen sat in the chair, picking up an orange from the desk to eat.

Sometimes, Michael got lightheaded from lack of oxygen, so he kept oranges and lemons around to refresh himself.

"My dad tried to talk to me again, bringing up Peter and hinting around it for half the night."

"And? Did you give up?"

Michael sat on the bed, facing Gwen.

Gwen rested her arms on the chair back, quietly meeting his gaze.

"I don't want to give up, but I don't know how to tell him."

Michael smiled. "Maybe you need to have an honest talk with him."

"I want to, but I don’t know how," Gwen said, helplessly spreading her hands and offering Michael half the orange.

He took a bite—so sour.

"You can't hide the truth forever. One day your identity will be revealed. If you were Mrs. Helen, would you want to be the last to know your daughter is Spider-Man?"

Gwen slumped over the chair, dejected.

"No, if my daughter became Spider-Man, I'd worry myself to death."

Michael chuckled. "See? When you put yourself in their shoes, you understand."

"Gwen, hiding things from each other isn’t always for someone’s good. You should ask for their opinion."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "But right now, they're my obstacle."

"Gwen."

Michael grew serious, and so did Gwen, rising to look at him earnestly.

"Did you come to me because you think I support you?"

Gwen opened her mouth, unsure how to answer.

"Well then, who gave you that idea? Was it me?"

"I'm sorry, Gwen. I shouldn't have made you think I support you."

"Gwen, I will never support you."

"If you think you’re only being a hero because I support you, then if something happens to you one day, I’ll feel it’s my fault."

That left Gwen speechless.

"I... I know. I understand."

Michael stood, towering over her.

"You don't understand, Gwen. You really don’t know what you’re doing."

"Gwen, before you become Spider-Man, learn to be yourself. Go to Helen and George. If you truly want to be Spider-Man, to stop evil, then convince Helen and George to support you. If they don’t, you can’t do it."

Gwen seemed lost.

"I don’t know..."

"Gwen."

Michael cupped her face, making her look at him.

"Listen. You can’t live your whole life behind a mask. Whether it’s a mask or a lie, the day will come when it’s torn away. First, learn to be yourself."