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With a heavy heart, Harry sobbed.
He pressed his face into his hands, bent practically in half in sorrow. In heartache. Peter Parker, no, Spider-Man, stood silently at the balcony of his penthouse wringing his hands together. Harry let him ago, dagger dropped to the side of him as he tried to stop his silent, broken sobs that threatened to rack across his body in terrible shakes.
Peter, Spider-Man, opened his mouth as if to say something. Harry wanted him to, say something, anything. But instead, Peter slipped his red mask on and Spider-Man slipped off the balcony. He left behind a heart broken Harry Osborn.
Somewhere out there was a mad scientist with four mechanical arms, a man that Harry had sent to Peter. Peter, the boy from high school with a brain that deserved to get him into Harvard, the man that Harry had fallen head over heels with, the boy that his father saw as his own, the man that was Spider-Man. He didn’t know, Harry tried to amend, he didn’t know that Peter was Spider-Man and that he hadn’t meant to send Doctor Octavius after the love of his life.
Harry moved his head out of his hands to instead tangle his fingers into his hair. His elbows rested on his knees, digging into his pants. Harry wanted to scream, he wanted to destroy everything he had. But instead, he stayed seated.
Memories flooded his head as his heart started to race and his breath quickened. His fathers body, dropped off by the masked menace, Peter Parker under that mask. It swirled around achingly, as if it had been so terribly, devastatingly obvious. Because it had been. Of course it had to be so obvious it slipped right under Harry’s nose.
The photos, Peter’s tardiness, the strength, the answered questions followed by silence, the anxiety, his grades, it all came together. Putting Peter into Spider-Man’s shoes made Harry want to throw up.
He loved Peter. How he loved the boy. Sometimes more than himself. He would give up his fathers whole corporation for Peter if he asked for it. But, now he wasn’t so sure. With Spider-Man being his best friend, the love of his life, reality hit.
Spider-Man killed Norman Osborn.
Peter Parker killed Harry's father.
Harry thrashed as he let out a scream. He tore himself from his sitting position to throw the couch that Peter had just been laying on, tied up, over. It slammed against the ground of his fathers old office, creating a slam that vibrated throughout the penthouse. The pens in his fathers cup rattled.
He fell to his knees. Nails clawing at the rug. Threatening to tear it apart. Harry sobbed, tears skidding down his face. It burned. His throat burned, his eyes, and his terrible heart.
It was almost as if Peter was still in the room, the sensible side of Harry scoffed, but the hopeful side looked up. He saw nothing. Nothing. Not even a comforting hand on his shoulder or a watery smile that lit up Harry’s darkest dreams. Would he beg for Peter’s forgiveness? Would he tell Jameson who Spider-Man was?
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
Harry’s head fell limp, hanging, as his nails bit into the carpet. And he screamed. Screamed until his throat tore and his voice stuttered. Until he could only croak and laugh.
And laugh.
Laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh until it wasn't his voice anymore.
Instead, his screaming, his crying, and terrible heart break, was replaced with his fathers.
It chased him into standing, into stumbling around his room in shock.
Harry, it called.
His father called. And cornered him to the mirror. To the mirror were his thoughts had always gone abondon. Where he would look at himself and dream of Peter. Dream of Peter on his knees, or hands tied behind his back, listening to Peter gasp, never MJ. Always Peter. Never Spider-Man. Always Peter. Always Spider-Man. Because, now, Spider-Man was the boy on his knees in front of the mirror, and Peter was the man that killed his father.
A shriek shattered the air, and in a rage of ache, betrayal, and yearning, Harry shattered that mirror, to take away the dreams he had with Peter. To remove Peter from this picture.
Soon, Peter was replaced with Spider-Man. Every memory, every turn, and decision he had made for Peter, was now for Spider-Man.
Harry, his father cried again. He followed his father, like he always had.
All he found behind that mirror was fragments of Norman Osborn.
And all he left behind was the shattered pieces of Peter Parker.