By Sunlight (P.P + M.J)

45. Werewolf Gone

*Werewolf's pov*

Jack was pretty sure he was dead. Not completely sure, but pretty sure.

It was like he was watching a movie, reliving every happy memory he had ever had with his best friends, seeing again every beautiful moment before everything went to shit.

All the nights spent out in New York City with Peter. They were partners-against crime. The bane to criminals in the Manhattan area.

Every make-believe Star Wars lightsaber battle with Ned. Oh, the theories they exchanged. Rey had to be a Kenobi! It would be so cool!

Oh man, and he would miss Aunt May and every one of her terrible meatloafs. She had taken him in with open arms. Him! A complete stranger! Aunt May was the best!

And the deep talks with MJ. Just the thought of her made his heart seize. How could he have done this to her? She selflessly gave up her time for Jack, was there when no one else was. He was even planning on giving her a coupon for "One Dance with Werewolf" for Christmas. But no, he returned her friendship with a bullet.

And as short as their time together had been, Jack would miss Gwen, and all her fiery tenacity. She had tried to save him. He'd never forget that, and he would cherish every one of their little moments until his final breath.

This was definitely something people did when they died, right? Like, remember stuff? Flashbacks? Did this mean he was dead?

"I'm almost over Oakland, Carlton. I need to pick up a few things from the old labs before the Wakandans can start poking around for more real estate. ETA 8:30 Pacific time. Don't touch anything until I get there, you hear me?"

Marc's voice foiled his previous question. Jack opened his eyes, realizing he must have passed out. But he wasn't entirely sure when he had. He knew it must have been some time after Gwen had been forcible dragged out of the carrier, and he was helpless to intervene. He noticed the knife in his shoulder was gone, but there were still two other bullets in his back. He ached all over, and shifting only made it worse. He briefly wondered if he should try going human, but that would be a mistake. He might actually die if he did that. His wolf form was probably the only thing keeping him alive, even if it was only just.

"Hold on, Drake, I have another call," Marc Spector was saying, and his tone changed as he started talking to someone else. "It's a pleasure to hear from you, old friend. How you been? Still chasing nomad supers and brainwashed soldiers?"

"From what I've heard, I take it the drone in the mountains missed," a voice said, sounding both sarcastic and irritated. The tone, however, seemed slightly distorted and electronic. Almost like Peter's when he had Interrogation Mode activated. They obviously were in no mood for small talk as they said, "Before you ask, the answer's no. I want nothing to do with your little hound."

"This isn't about him. It's about another stray you might be interested in." Jack's ears pricked forward. "She's based out of New York City. Occasionally works with Spider-Man. A little rough around the edges but nothing that can't be smoothed out."

Jack's heart plummeted into his stomach. What did he want with Gwen? What the hell was he even talking about? More importantly, who was Marc talking to?

"I don't need you recruiting for me," the voice growled. "And I have enough on my plate anyway. I'm in no position to teach anyone."