InsaneJournal

[Narrative]
Who: Tiny!Gwen
What: Picking something up
Where: Ms. Carter's "empty" apartment
When: After the tiny!Gotham party
Warnings/Rating: None

Gwen returned to Marvel with more than a few questions about the instructions her future self had left to guide her home. Okay, so something had clearly happened to result in some weird bubble universe future. It wasn't completely weird, and it wasn't even completely unprecedented. She wondered if Oscorp was somehow to blame, but this seemed pretty vast for Oscorp to be responsible. No offense, Mr. Osborn, but this was kind of epicly huge. And Gwen's little world didn't include Avengers or mutants (unless you considered Peter a mutant, which you totally could), so this was all really impressive. Impressive, not scary or anything, because the scientist in her thought it was too interesting for her to be appropriately fearful. Gwen, she wasn't scared of much. What was the worst that could happen? It wasn't like she was going to die or anything, because she was obviously around later, and she was obviously okay enough to issues edicts in digital files from the future.

Ergo, she followed the instructions provided and returned to her neighborhood, which was exactly as it should be. She didn't check newspapers or anything, not wanting to know just how far in the future she was. She didn't contact Peter, though she totally wanted to. She allowed herself the possibility of contacting him after her mission, and maybe she'd track Flash and Harry down too. But, for now, she made her way to the Brooklyn residence of Ms. Carter (even though she totally had no clue who Ms. Carter was), and she let herself in with a key that future-her had taped to the back of her cellphone.

Inside, the apartment was empty, unused, and it was dusty. No one lived here anymore, but the place was homey in a way that indicated a past where it was well-used and well-loved. Gwen looked at pictures on shelves, and she checked the fridge and closed it super quick (ew!), and then she got to looking for the safe that her phone indicated she needed to retrieve the hard drive from.

She found the safe Ms. Carter had indicated easily, and the code opened it, and inside was the hard drive. Gwen had just tucked the hard drive into the messenger bag that was slung across her chest and resting heavily on her hip, when she heard someone misstep. A floorboard creaked, and Gwen cursed to herself, closed the safe and put the panel back in place. She couldn't exactly leave the closet, and she didn't have any abilities or anything (not yet). So, improvisation was kind of the best she could do. And, given her current surroundings, improvisation was curling herself up as small as she could manage and hiding beneath the stack of blankets that were neatly folded in the back corner of the walk-in closet.

From there, she listened.

She had no clue who the men in the apartment were, but they knew who she was (they said her name), and they knew she would be coming here to get the hard drive. It was like they'd read her file or something, the one she'd left for herself, which was totally ridiculous, because she wouldn't betray herself. But they definitely had some insider information, and Gwen wondered precisely what older-her had gotten into. It was probably telling that she was totally and completely unsurprised to realize she'd somehow gotten herself into a dangerous situation. Maybe she was a spy. She'd always envisioned a future in a lab somewhere, but she could kind of get behind the idea that she was someone daring and brave in the future.

But that wasn't going to fix this situation, because the closet door was opening, and she knew the men (three of them) were going to look for the safe behind the panel, because there was totally a mole or something. For a brief flicker of a moment, she wished Peter was there to help. But, no - she could totally handle this. She didn't need a guy coming to her rescue, and she reminded herself that she got Peter out of scrapes all the time. She could absolutely, totally do this on her own. Think. Think.

One of the men walked into the closet, and Gwen held her breath as he slid the panel free and opened the safe door. He used the same code Gwen herself had used, and she was going to need to breathe really soon. Think. Think. The baroreceptor in the carotid artery was super pressure-sensitive, and it wouldn't require much strength at all to trick the body of the man kneeling only a few feet away. She was close enough to reach, and it was the best option she had. If she applied pressure just right, the man's body would think his blood pressure had spiked, and it would attempt to modulate, which would result in him passing out, the pressure too low as a result. Her dad had taught her that, and she knew the key here would be speed - the bad guy couldn't be allowed to have time to call out to the others, not if this was going to work.

There was no point in hesitation, and time spent only lessened the chances of success, so Gwen went for it. Fingers hard to the man's carotid, and he had just a second to swivel, and then he slumped.

Gwen moved fast after that. She only had a few seconds, and she knew it. The other two men were in the living room (she could hear them), so the bedroom window was her only feasible option, even if the sound alerted them. But her chances were better outside, even if she was being pursued, so up the creaking window went, and she heard the men calling for her by the time her feet landed on the escape.

Bullets flew, and she ran. Down, zig-zagging so they couldn't get a good shot, and she totally should've involved Peter (super-bad tactical decision), but she made it to the ground with only a graze to her shin, and she knew she had a good advantage amid foot traffic and cars. She weaved into traffic, preferring to take her chances with slow-moving vehicles in congested intersections, and if these men wanted to be stealthy they couldn't just shoot her down around a bunch of spectators.

She ended up in The Morgan Library & Museum, amid old books, and she wasn't sure if she'd lost her pursuers, or if the place was just too dangerous for them to go into. Thanks to the Gutenberg Bible, Degas, and George Washington's death mask, the place was highly guarded. Gwen found a quiet seat in a quiet corner, and she pulled her laptop from her messenger bag. Hoodie balled up against her grazed shin, she connected the hard drive she'd found in the safe (because she'd totally come prepared), and she settled in to read. There was no way she was leaving until she was absolutely sure no one was going to shoot at her out there. So, maybe she'd ultimately need to call for help. But for now, she was totally intrigued by the contents of the drive, and she had nothing but time to read into the mystery future-her had served up on a proverbial (digital) platter.