Re: Jurassic Park: Gwen & Peter
It was, potentially, subconsciously deliberate - not thinking about the ways her death had negatively impacted him. It was easier to think it was the genesis of something good, than it was to dwell on what it must have been like for him. In the same vein, thinking about being being dead was the kind of dark tunnel that just made her want to go deeper; it was morose, but humanity was obsessed with what came after life, and she knew. She didn't like thinking about it, and she was aware that had changed her more than anything in this place had, that understanding that most people in a room with her didn't share. She didn't want to think about it much, and she didn't want to infect him with those thoughts either. So, it was better to mentally alter the situation into something good. It had taken a while for her to even convince herself of the lie, but she believed it entirely now.
His fingers on her cheek made her blink out of reverie, and she gave him a sweet smile. "You're super sweet, Peter Parker," she said, maintaining eye contact and not looking away (for emphasis!). And it was true. He was the best out of all of them, and there was no valid argument that could ever even attempt to prove he wasn't. It was the reason she couldn't hold siding with Mary Jane against him; he was Peter, he would always try to find the good in a situation, in a person, no matter what the negating factors, and she'd always loved that about him.
His fingers dropped away from her cheek, and she tracked them with a downward tip of her head. "Doctor Banner can't fix what he injected himself with. It's possible there is no cure that can be synthesized for what Harry injected. It's an Oscorp mutation, Peter, when it's all said and done, and I haven't heard of one pulse mutant returned to their former state." She didn't mention spiders. Nope. But it was there, between the lines. And, of course, that didn't deal with what she was beginning to think of as Harry's deteriorated mental state.
She could embrace the subterfuge of pretense as much as any girl, scientific tendencies and aptitude aside, and she looked up when he asked the question about finding their way back. Her gaze was on his mouth, and that was a terrible idea. Her recently spiked concerns about Mary Jane were a perpetual, dull fear (not adaptation, since it was learned behavior), and it made her heart beat faster. He'd asked a question, and she tried to focus on it. "I think we should go through here," she said, pointing at the safe space between the carnivore exhibits. "They drove guests through there, so the road is clear and wide, and it's the quickest way back." But they'd have to go on foot, and she possibly (maybe!) wasn't paying as much attention to the map as she should. Okay, no, focus, and she hopped to her feet.