Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Harry was certain this was the most fun he'd had on any night in his entire life. Not since MJ invited him to a concert she had an extra ticket for in sophomore year, or the countless times he snuck off to do something admittedly stupid with his friends, or right after graduation, when he, Peter and MJ spent hours at Coney Island as a celebration, until they were practically dead on their feet, yet still able to enjoy each other's presence. Not during any of those times had he felt so… alive.

Well. He'd never really been this alive, had he? Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd spent the last couple years dying, forced to believe he wouldn't live to see his 25th birthday. Which was ironic now; he'd certainly lived to his 25th birthday, but he hadn't seen it. He spent that day hidden away from his friends, locked in a place where only his father could be with him, and he couldn't even know he was there.

He awoke sometime in late January, maybe early February, and spent those next couple months readjusting to the world, still trapped in the penthouse until his body fully recovered, still separated from the people he loved most. In those months, he learned an awful lot about the things he missed out on, of the Sinister Six, of the Underground, and of course, the new Spider-Man being trained by the original, among several other things that just made his head spin, reminded him that two years of his life were gone, and he could never get them back.

And now?

Now, he was in the building he'd been dreaming of for years, and Peter was with him, and it was as if nothing had ever changed.

It was probably around 2 AM, and Harry was perched upon the railing of the top floor, staring across the building with a daring look on his face.

“I don't know about this, Har,” Peter spoke up from his place nearby. “You're just learning how to control that.. thing. What if it drops you?”

Harry waved him off. “It wouldn't do that. And if it did, I have New York's finest to catch me.”

Peter blinked. “So your life's in my hands is what you're saying?”

“I was kidding.” Harry let his eyes wander to the ground beneath him, then back up. “I know what I'm doing…”

“I'm not so sure you–” The man didn't have time to finish his sentence before his friend leapt off the balcony. “Harry!”

Harry positioned his arm upwards, a black, goopy tendril extending from it and clinging to the ceiling. He swung across the building, to the other side of the top floor, almost landed on his back before the substance cushioned his fall like it had done when Peter first arrived.

Peter straightened up. “Harry??”

He breathed a sigh of relief when his friend stood up. Harry seemed giddy with excitement.

“See! Just like you!” he called out.

Peter couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah. Sure. Just like me.”

Harry climbed the railing once more, and Peter tensed. “Don't tell me you're about to do it again.”

“Why not? I'm basically a pro already!” Harry grinned, not giving Peter a chance to voice his protest before he jumped again.

Peter’s eyes were glued on Harry, watching as he shot another tendril from his arm and headed toward his side of the building. But he was cutting it short; Peter could tell, from the length of the tendril and the angle he was swinging at. He wasn't going to make it, probably going to hit the railing and fall, and Peter couldn't allow that. Under no circumstances could he let Harry get hurt, not one.

Peter dove off the balcony and scooped Harry out of the air, shooting a web toward the ceiling so he could swing them down to safety. He heard his friend squeak with surprise as they landed on the second floor, Peter gently setting him down.

“What'd you do that for??” Harry gave him a bewildered look.

“You were gonna crash!” Peter exclaimed, which only seemed to confuse Harry more.

“No I wasn't,” he said.

“Yes, you were. You would've hit the edge of the balcony. You're lucky I was there.”

To his surprise, Harry seemed to smile. “My hero.” He patted Peter’s shoulder, before beginning to walk away, probably to attempt another life threatening experiment.

“I don't even know how you can handle swinging like I do,” Peter started, following after him. “Mr. Can't Handle Rollercoasters.”

“I know! It’s weird!” Harry looked back at him. “I've never been able to handle anything like that. Always makes me all dizzy.”

“So maybe try something other than web swinging?” Peter suggested, only half joking. “Wouldn't want you getting sick up there.”

“But it's different!” Harry said. “I don't know how to explain it… Maybe because I'm the one in control? Like– When you're on a rollercoaster, you have no say whether or not something goes wrong. I mean, just look at what happened tonight… that's scary. That's what makes me all nervous. But this?” He raised his arm, not even needing to command the dark tendrils to appear and coil around it. “This thing will keep me safe no matter what. If I fall, it'll always catch me.”

So would I, Peter’s mind muttered. You don't need new powers to keep you safe. I'm right here.

“So maybe that's the difference?” Harry continued. “My body sort of.. knows it'll be ok. So there's no reason to panic.”

“I'm not so sure that's how that works,” Peter commented.

“It works for me!” Harry smiled. “Come on, there's so much more I wanna try!”

“Harry, wait!” Peter rushed after his friend as he made his way back up the stairs. “It's getting late– won't your dad notice you're gone??”

“Nah!” Harry grinned. “Probably asleep by now! Besides, I've spent too long letting him boss me around since I woke up. He can't control me, not for this!”

Oh boy. Any hope of reigning Harry in was slipping away by the second.

They made it back to their office, which was a bit of a mess right now. Harry had spent at least an hour trying to teach himself how to grab things from afar, and then another hour playing a very odd game of dodgeball with Peter, except instead of dodgeballs, they were using webs and bits of goop.

It would be fine. They could clean it up before sunrise.

Harry glanced down at a photo on his desk, thankfully a survivor of their experiments. It was an older picture of himself, Peter, and MJ, back when their lives were much simpler.

He sighed. “Don't take this the wrong way, but.. You've been Spider-Man for a few years now, yeah? And you already told MJ.. when were you gonna tell me?”

Peter smiled the smallest bit. “To be fair, I didn't tell her,” he started. “Or– well.. It's complicated. I got hurt, pretty bad, ended up in her yard. I didn't really choose for her to find out… When I first started all this, my plan was for no one to ever find out. Not you, not MJ.. not May.. but, having people who know makes it all a bit easier, I guess.” He looked up to face Harry. “I probably should've told you sooner.”

Harry shrugged. “Don't worry too much. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “I was just trying to keep all of you safe.”

“How sweet of you.” His tone was genuine, and something about the smile on his face made Peter feel warm. “So then the kid you're tutoring, he's the other one?”

“Yeah! Him and his friend. I think you met her at Coney Island. She calls herself Junebug.”

“Cool name,” Harry commented. “So am I gonna have to be some kind of bug too?”

“If you want,” Peter chuckled, before Harry’s words truly sunk in. “Wait–”

“I could be Tarantula, maybe? Or Mantis! Mantis sounds cool, yeah?”

“Wait,” Peter interrupted. “You're not… you're thinking about joining us?”

“Of course!” The joy in Harry’s eyes was almost frightening now. “Pete, do you realize how great this is? I can work alongside you and your team. We can keep the city safe together!”

“I– Is that what all this training you're doing has been for?”

“What else would it be for?” Harry paced around the room, and watching him, hearing his words, made Peter’s stomach twist with anxiety. “Imagine all the other tricks I can learn! Ones you can teach me!”

“Harry, I'm not so sure if–”

“This is like some kind of gift, Peter! And with it, I can–”

“Harry!” Guilt crept into Peter's chest at the way Harry’s smile quickly melted, now replaced with a look of surprise after Peter raised his voice. “Sorry.. just..” How was Peter meant to word this? “We.. we just got you back. And now you're talking about throwing yourself into danger?”

“Well.. not exactly?” Harry answered. “It sounds like it, but this.. thing inside me–whatever it is–I think it wants to protect me. And it's not like I'll be going at it alone. I'll have you, and Miles and Phin to guide me.”

“It's not just that,” Peter spoke. “This kind of life is difficult, in a lot of ways. You lose out on so many opportunities, you have to lie to the people you love.”

“Who would I be lying to?” Harry turned, walking over to the table across the room. “My dad? He's so caught up with his business, I doubt he'd notice…”

His voice trailed off, like he regretted saying it.

“I think he would.” Peter headed over to him. “Especially now, when you're still…”

“What?” Harry looked at him. “Fragile? Weak?”

“No, that's… No. That's not what I mean.” Peter shook his head. “You’re not weak. Matter of fact, I'd say you're probably the strongest you've ever been right now.” That one made Harry smile. “But you just overcame a major illness. People have reasons to worry about you.”

“God.” Harry turned and leaned back against the table. “I'm so tired of hearing stuff like that. Like I'm being coddled.”

“I'm not trying to coddle you,” Peter frowned.

“I know.” Harry raised his head. “But it feels like it. Feels like every time someone fusses over me, or tries to stop me from doing something I want to do, they think I'm still in the same state I was before they put me in stasis. Like I'm gonna fall apart if they touch me the wrong way.”

Peter hummed, his heartbeat somehow louder than the silence between them. “You were in there for two years.. right?”

Harry nodded. “And then stuck in the penthouse for almost another year.. it's just.. I hate how much time's gone by…”

“It’s weird to think about.” Peter moved closer to him. “Feels like yesterday.. but.. a decade at the same time. Isn't that strange?”

“You’re telling me,” Harry grumbled, before sighing. “I'm… tired of wasting my life, Peter. I'm tired of letting everyone decide how I should live it.” His eyes locked with Peter’s. “If I want to work alongside you guys, then that's my decision. Don't try to talk me out of it.”

Peter swallowed hard, his mind racing with several things he had to say about that. I'm not trying to decide how you should live your life. I'm trying to keep you safe. I don't want to see you hurt, or upset, or come close to losing your life the same amount of times I have. I don't want you near the danger. I want to protect you. Let me protect you.

He drew in a breath. “At least… give it some time. Think it over. Live a normal life for a bit before you get yourself tangled in mine.”

Harry rolled his eyes, though not in an annoyed manner. “Like I've ever had a normal life.” He headed for the couch.

“Then live one!” Peter encouraged. “Just for a bit?”

“If it makes you happy.” Harry dropped down onto the cushion, letting his head fall back.

“Very.” Peter blinked. Was he staring?

“Whatever you say, then,” Harry looked up, grinning at him. Peter couldn't hold back a giggle as he walked over to sit by his friend. “Well, if you want normal, let's start with getting something to eat. I'm starving.” Harry grabbed his phone.

“I'm not sure if dinner at 2 AM is exactly normal,” Peter smiled.

“It is when you're us.” Harry glanced back at him. There was something about his eyes… Peter couldn't put a finger on it. Oh well. He was tired, and also hungry.

“You’re not wrong about that.” Peter scooted closer to Harry as the man scrolled through their options. Suddenly the two were in college again, and it was a late study night, and the two needed some extra fuel to get through the rest of their work.

Suddenly things were fine.

Chapter Text

He'd been pacing his room for about an hour, learning how to cooperate with the strange goop inhabiting his body. His father was out, wouldn't be home for another couple hours. Plenty of time for Harry to teach himself some new skills.

The first was trying to create a suit.

The stuff could cover his whole arm if he willed it to, so it wasn't too far out there to assume he could create a sort of armor out of it. Designing it was the difficult part. He just couldn't decide what he wanted.

It didn't help that the strange goop refused to cooperate at times. Wouldn't form a specific pattern he wanted, or sometimes just made its own shapes. Like it had an odd mind of its own. At this point, he wouldn't doubt it.

He stood in front of his mirror, wearing something akin to Peter's spider suit. Covered in a shiny black, with white webs climbing along his arms and legs. He didn't mind it–it looked fine, and matched well with Peter. But it wasn't… him. The suit didn't feel like Harry Osborn, rather just Peter’s weird little copy. Not that he'd be opposed to that. He'd follow in Peter's footsteps forever if he could. But, this time? This time, he needed to be something other than Peter Parker's shadow. This needed to be his.

The webbing began to shift without his permission, and by now he didn't have much energy to tell it otherwise. They slithered off his face, leaving only an outline in the shape of Peter's lenses. The suit seemed to bulk up a small bit, shirt resembling leather, shoes forming into heavy boots. It felt like a base.

Maybe he could work with this.

He liked the leather, but on its own, it felt dull. Not to mention flimsy for battle. Who knew how durable the stuff was? He didn't like the idea of it breaking easily. It needs more protection, he thought to himself. Something over it.

As though on command, the substance responded with a layer of armor covering his torso, traveling down his legs until it reached his boots.

Huh.

He tilted his head, looking himself over for a moment.

Maybe some on the arms too?

Another protective layer formed over both forearms, gloves shifting to match. Deciding he liked it, he willed some white markings to the back of his hands. An all black suit wouldn't be the most eye-catching. I want this thing to turn heads.

More white webs began to climb along his chest.

No webs! He scolded the patterns, which swiftly withered. I'm not trying to be Spider-Man. More like…

Huh. He hadn't really thought of what he was trying to be. Some sort of bug? Though he didn't really look like any kind of bug right now. More like a soldier. Would that be good enough for the team? For Peter?

He shook his head. New York had enough bugs. Two spiders, a junebug, a scorpion, probably more he didn't know about. He could be an agent of the night until he eventually thought of something else.

I can be whatever I want, huh? That must've been the real magic of this suit. If he got bored of one theme, he could change with ease. Maybe today, he could be a soldier. Maybe tomorrow, a mantis, and the next day, a dragon. His options were endless; he didn't need to worry about stitching something together, or the materials he needed, or any sort of repairs, because all of it was stored in his mind, and in this blessing inhabiting his body.

Two white straps formed along each of his thighs, and he asked for more on his hips and his shoulders. Shapes like diamonds appeared on his arms, he created similar ones on his knees. This suit… this creature, it worked in tandem with Harry, serving only his desires, with a bit of flair of its own. He couldn't say he was against it, being listened to for once instead of only listening to others. Being the one in control made him feel an odd sense of power that he'd never had before.

He stared at himself in the mirror for a long while, until he was positive this design was perfect.

The next step was learning to fight.

He never could defend himself in school from people like Flash. Harry often came home bruised and battered from a fight he never asked for, and it was often his mother who tended to him, up until he was fifteen, and…

His father became far more paranoid after that, fretting more and more each time even the slightest injury showed on his son's body. It only led to Harry trying to hide the evidence of those petty scuffles. 

Never then did it occur to Harry that he could fight back, though. Like, properly fight back.

And to be fair to himself, things were different back then. Fighting back meant punishment, a phone call home, even more reason for his father to fear letting Harry out of his sight. In those times, it wasn't an option, but now it was practically required. He needed to hold his own if he ever wanted to protect this city; couldn't have Peter thinking he needed to carry him through it all.

He'd spent the short amount of time since Coney Island trying to study Peter's moves, combing through footage of the spider in action. He was sure his friend could teach him so much more himself, but Harry at least wanted him to think that he knew what he was doing. Besides, the thought of seeing Peter so impressed by his skills was a hell of a bonus.

He cleared space in his room, shoving anything in his way against the walls, the task made much quicker with the help of those black tendrils appearing to aid him.

For the next half an hour or so, he studied some basic kicks and punches. It occurred to him eventually that this would be far easier with a partner, or at least a training dummy, neither of which he had at the moment. Couldn't call in Peter, he wanted to surprise him the next time they met. So, then…

He felt an odd shift within him, his suit rippling the smallest bit, as if trying to speak with him. Remind him that– Right. He had powers now, powers he needed much more practice with. One night's worth of it wasn't enough, he needed to be perfect.

Back at EMF, he'd been trying to learn how to grab things with his tendrils, though really, he spent most of the night knocking things over. If he could just control the speed of it, stop it from shooting out so fast, he'd probably get the hang of it in no time.

Harry set a pillow on the ground. Wouldn't have to worry about breaking anything if he smashed it or dropped it. The man stepped back a few paces, reached his arm out, and tried to focus, silently begged the anomaly responsible for these new abilities to cooperate with him.

The first attempt had the same result as it did before; the tendril crashing into the ground right beside the pillow. Harry growled, drawing the stuff back and taking a breath.

“Come on,” he groaned. “It doesn't take that much force! Not for picking things up.”

He must've looked silly talking to his own suit. But there was some subtle twitch in his body, like the creature was trying to acknowledge him. God. They needed a better method of communication if this was how things were going to work. He didn't like the physical reminder of something living inside him.

He tried again, the dark tendril appearing slower this time. Not darting into the ground, just hovering. Now came trying to will it to do what he wanted, which still proved difficult. Stubborn thing. In the back of his mind, he worried how long it could take to properly gain control of the creature.

At the same time, he wondered if that was even what he needed; what it wanted. He certainly never enjoyed having little control over his life, letting everyone else puppet his every move and decision. Maybe the creature didn't appreciate either? Was that why it was being so difficult?

The thing had some small level of sentience, that much was obvious. And it seemed content with following his lead, but only if he worked with it as well. If they became one, bounced off each other's energy, perhaps they could be unstoppable.

Harry liked the idea of that.

He took a breath and eased his mind, no longer trying to command the tendril to do as he pleased, just… thinking, and letting it follow his thoughts. Imagining the substance reaching for the pillow, and watching as it extended ahead of him. It brushed against the carpet at first, as though confused, so he tilted his arm in an attempt to guide it in the right direction. It dragged onto the pillow, then without warning, latched onto it with several, much smaller tendrils. He grinned to himself, raising his arm, raising the pillow off the ground with it, his mind racing with all the wild things he could try next.

Harry summoned a second tendril from his other arm, sending it under the pillow. He raised the first a little higher, his hand balling into a fist, then releasing to signal the tendril to let go. He swiftly closed his hand as the pillow hit the tendril beneath it, catching it in the strange goop. A rush of energy flowed through his body in the moment. He imagined himself in the middle of battle, maybe the pillow was a gun he'd managed to snatch from one of his enemies, and with the flick of his arm, he'd send it flying directly towards another. He'd seen Peter do it in some of the recordings he'd found of him. 

The pillow crashed right into a vase on his desk, shattering it the moment it hit the floor.

Harry straightened up. “Shit.”

❂┉❂┉❂

The sky had darkened significantly; a perfect opportunity for him to make his way to the roof of the penthouse. The upside of his black suit was being less visible at night, and while he maybe would've gone for something more flashy in normal circumstances, he quite enjoyed the idea of being able to sneak anywhere he wanted.

Each of the bugs had some way of traversing the city with ease. Peter and Miles swung by web. Phin, from what little footage he'd seen of her, leapt from building to build with some sort of mod to her boots. If Harry wanted to be up to their level, he needed to be like them. Quick, speedy, able to reach any situation in the blink of an eye. He needed to fly over the city.

He'd practiced some at the foundation, where the fall would be short and he had Peter to catch him if all else failed. Now was the real test.

He stared out at the buildings ahead of him, assessing the distance from where he stood and what it would take to reach them. They weren't too far out, though a boost would probably be needed. Maybe he could take a page out of the Junebug's book–propel himself in his jump, then swing away as the spiders would. He didn't exactly have the fancy boots for it, but he had several new extra limbs to push him off whatever he was stuck to. He just needed to climb down a small bit.

He peered over the edge of the rooftop, and– Oh god. Wow. He thought he felt his stomach leap for a moment. One failed swing and it was over, huh? That was, if the creature didn't catch him. Which it was supposed to. Please. If you drop me I'm killing you. However that was possible.

Harry sat down, letting his legs dangle, then slowly, carefully, crawled down, until he was perched on the wall. His heart was racing, lungs working over time, stomach twisting anxiously. He wanted to scold himself for being so nervous when he'd done this before, but jumping between balconies in a relatively small space was far different from swinging hundreds of feet off the ground.

He felt the suit tighten around his torso–was the thing trying to hug him? Or maybe it was adjusting itself. He didn't feel like asking, barely even noticed when six tendrils emerged from his back, pressing against the wall.

He drew in a deep breath. He wasn't alone, not really. He didn't have Peter, but he had the suit. The suit would catch him if anything went wrong. It was going to catch him. There was no way it wouldn't.

Harry stared ahead, clearing his mind… then leaped. The tendrils shot him a good distance from the penthouse, and he reached an arm out. The slime swiftly extended, clinging onto the building closest to him and swinging him along, further than he anticipated. He flipped clumsily in the air, limbs flailing wildly. In what felt like hours, though was really only a few seconds, the suit snagged onto another building nearby and yanked him toward it. He slammed into the wall with a grunt.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “God… Not so fast next time.”

He looked back out to the city, catching his breath. Not the worst for his first attempt. Now came perfecting it…

He turned his back toward the wall once more, gazing at the building across from him. He needed to improve his landing; couldn't keep crashing into walls, after all. With another deep breath, he lunged, allowing the arm of his suit to shoot forward and secure itself on the structure ahead. He raised his legs in front of him to brace himself, this time colliding a lot less painfully. His knees still jammed themselves into his ribs, and it took a moment to catch his breath, but it was better than the first attempt.

The wind felt stronger up here. Somehow it exhilarated him.

The next few tries were still clumsy, still evidence of his inexperience, but in the moment, he didn't care about being critical of himself. He was flying, high above the streets of New York, above all the problems he faced down below. No longer was he tethered to that damn penthouse, where he was made to feel like a porcelain doll in need of protecting. Now it was Harry's turn to call the shots, to flee those chains holding him down and properly sprout his wings.

He circled around the area, eventually boosting himself up to the wall of Avengers Tower, where he ran, and ran, as fast as his legs would carry him, until he stood at the top of the tower, hanging onto one of the light posts as he leaned over the edge.

Two years ago, he thought he wouldn't make it very far into his twenties. Now, he stood tall above his home, which he swore to serve and protect. He was going to make a difference here, heal this city, heal the entire world, him and this strange suit that saved his life. Him and Peter.

He let his mask retract, the chill breeze of the night flowing through his hair. He drank up the air around him, smiled, and laughed. How glad he was to be here, so happy, so free. How glad he was to be alive.

Chapter Text

Harry was bored.

He hadn't seen Peter or MJ since Coney Island, too busy training himself, or being fretted over by his father. Miraculously, he didn't let it get to him all that much. Norman could stress all he wanted, he'd never be able to keep Harry from his new double life. Harry was the one keeping the secrets now, and while he knew it really shouldn't have brought him so much joy, he felt a strange sense of power over his father. It was small, but for once in his life, he was making decisions that Norman couldn't say no to, because Norman would never be allowed to know.

The old man was out again, though, and Harry felt like he was rotting from the lack of anything to do. Training only kept him occupied for so long; he felt like he'd learned everything he needed to, and he got sick of doing the same thing every day.

Maybe what he needed was another day out. With Peter, his mind added, almost unintentionally. Right. With Peter. His heart did a little leap at the thought.

He rolled over on his bed, reaching at the desk for his phone. As he scrolled through his contacts, it occurred to him that maybe Peter was busy. Out saving the city, probably with Miles or Phin.

He paused.

Before Harry was put away, he recalled all those times Peter bailed out on him. All the times Peter got inexplicably too busy for him, though always tried to make it up to him afterwards. All those times… Spider-Man was the reason, huh? He used to cry himself to sleep thinking one of his only friends had finally gotten tired of him, decided he was too annoying, too stupid to be associated with, all the while Peter was keeping the city safe, keeping people alive. And Harry only selfishly thought about himself.

He'd be lying if he said he still wasn't thinking about himself.

He beat himself up over it, mainly because it was ridiculously embarrassing to be jealous of people who were still in high school. But the part that mainly upset him was that Peter had moved on. Peter had found new friends, new people to care about. MJ seemed to be doing fine without him as well. The whole world seemed content with leaving him behind… did he even have a place among the people he loved most anymore?

He swallowed hard and scrolled to Peter's name. At the very least, he wanted to hear his voice.

It only took a few seconds for Peter to pick up. Something about that made Harry feel fuzzy.

“Har?” God. He missed being called that.

“Long time no see,” Harry smiled.

“It's only been a few days.” Peter's voice was hushed, but he could still hear the smile behind it.

“Exactly. Too long.” Harry raised his knees up, crossing one leg over the other. “Anyway. Dad's at work, and I'm lonely. Got the whole place to myself if you wanna swing by. No pun intended.” He snickered to himself. “It'll be just like old times, huh?”

“Sounds fun,” Peter responded, letting out a soft giggle that made Harry’s heart skip a beat. “I'll head over once I'm finished up here.”

“What are you up to?” Harry sat up. “Need a hand?”

“In Williamsburg, at the old Steel Foundry,” Peter explained. “Sounds like they're holding Tombstone here.”

Harry lit up. He had been itching to show off his new skills. “Sounds like a job for the spider pals, huh?”

“That is not what we're calling ourselves!” Peter hissed.

“Well, what's you guys’ team name then?” Harry swung his legs off the bed. “It's gotta be something cool.”

“We don't really have a name. We're just… the bugs.”

“No team name?” Somehow Harry felt disappointed.

He heard Peter's chuckle again, sweet like honey. “We're not that much of a team, Har. The only time all three of us work together is if something serious is going on.”

Harry hummed. “I still think it would be cool to have a name.”

“If you guys think up something good, I'll be down,” Peter answered. “I should go. This place is crawling with hunters.”

“So you do need help?”

“No! Do not come here.” As if Harry planned on listening. “These people are deadly; can't risk you getting hurt.”

Harry froze for a moment. Peter being dead set on protecting him was a little annoying, sure, but it also made something in his chest flutter. Knowing Peter cared about him that much…

“Talk soon.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts at his friend's voice.

“Wait–” The line went dead.

The man set his phone down on his desk and got up.

What was the harm in giving Peter a helping hand? He sounded like he needed it, and the thought of Peter watching in awe as he flaunted his new talents only drew him in even more. His father wouldn't be home for a long while, and even if he got back before Harry came home, he could just say he was out with Peter. He was a grown man after all, what would his dad have to be upset over?

His suit was covering his body by the time he stepped onto the balcony. Harry wasted no time leaping over the railing, letting the creature carry him far away from the penthouse. Williamsburg. Steel Foundry. He locked the location in his mind as he swung through the city, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He couldn't wait to get there, to see Peter.

❂┉❂┉❂

Harry landed on one of the towers of the Steel Foundry, looking over the area. People scattered around–unconscious people, some wrapped in webs. Peter was definitely here.

It took some time to find an opening, but eventually he discovered a hatch on the top of the tower and grabbed it. He only pulled at it a small bit, but suddenly the cover had been yanked off its hinges.

“Shit.” He looked around, as if anyone was around to catch him. Harry gently set the cover aside, before hopping into the entrance.

The place felt like a maze. Did Peter get this confused in places he'd never been in? Or did his abilities include a sense of direction? Harry wasn't sure if he was hoping for it or not. On the one hand, he didn't really mind letting Peter guide him wherever they needed to go. On the other hand, he was tired of relying on others for things.

It didn't take long for him to hear a crash echo through the building. Something was happening somewhere beneath him, and he couldn't let himself miss it. He wasted no time leaping down from his spot, crashing through the ceiling to the room below and catching himself on a metal beam to soften his landing. He spotted Peter in the corner of his eye, then a man in front of him carrying two swords. A threat.

Several tendrils bunched themselves up around his arm as he swung a punch at the enemy, sending him flying off into a nearby crate. His first proper win! And it came to him so easy!

Harry laughed to himself as he shook his arm back to normal.

“Harry??” Peter sounded shocked. Just the reaction Harry wanted. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you out, Spider-Man!” Harry gently punched his shoulder. “You're welcome by the way.”

The wall in front of them suddenly began to part. Harry hadn't even realized there was a door there to begin with.

“I was hoping to do this quietly,” Peter muttered, words that fell on mostly deaf ears as Harry stared at the several hunters charging at them.

“Is this my fault?”

Peter only sighed. “You go left, I go right.”

A rush of energy crashed over Harry like a tsunami as he hopped into position. “Let's do this!”

He glanced over as four robotic arms emerged from Peter's back, stabbing into the concrete as he shot a web forward, then catapulted himself through his attackers, knocking them over in one go.

Harry felt his breath hitch, then shook his head. He couldn't lose focus on his first proper mission.

A goopy tendril shot out from his side and grabbed one of the hunters, throwing her across the room and Harry kicked another to the ground. One tried to grab him from behind, but another tendril sprung from his back, knocking the man away. Harry focused in on another guy with a sword, raising it to try and slice through him. He reached forward and extended his arm to snatch it away from him, then punched the man in the side of the head.

He glanced back at Peter, who was holding his own just as well.

“I know you said you had this,” Harry called out, “but, look at us!”

“Honestly?” Peter didn't look at him, too busy with the other hunters. “Kinda hoped to start you off with something easier!”

Like it's your choice? Harry waved off the thought. “What better way to learn than on-the-job training!” He let out a laugh. “I've never felt so strong!”

“Don't let it get to your head!” Peter warned. “We're not invincible!”

Wasn't he?? He had all the power in the world right now! The hunters’ swords couldn't break through his suit–all they did was slide right off–and if he lost focus for even a moment, the suit would handle his attacker for him. The suit always protected him. What was Peter so worried about?

Just as every hunter had been taken down, and Harry felt like he could breath, he heard something skidding across the concrete up ahead. Some sort of vehicle, he gathered, as he looked up at the source of the noise. A large truck–he guessed corrctly–that held several more hunters, and- started spewing fire??

“Is that a flamethrower??” Harry yelped.

“Unfortunately!” Peter leapt away as one of the hunters shot at him. “I can't web that thing up! You stay out of the line of fire, I'll come up with a plan!”

Several tendrils materialized in front of Harry to shield him as he was pelted by the hunters’ bullets. Why was Peter the one who got to form a plan? Harry could come up with something easy!

He jumped to the side, then slingshot himself onto the balcony, slipping past the attackers who were far more focused on Peter. He found himself above the truck, crouching just out of sight from the men controlling it. He could try to yank the flamethrower off himself, but who was to say it would injure his suit in the process? He couldn't risk it.

Harry looked up, then spotted a large vat, its contents glowing and smoldering, in an opening in the wall. He perked up.

“Spider-Man! Over here!” He reached out and grabbed the side of the vat, pulling it closer and quickly retracting his arms as it began to spill.

Peter was at his side in a few seconds. “What are you doing??”

“Look!” Harry pointed to the vat. “We can drop it on the truck!”

Peter stared for a moment, then Harry saw him nod, his heart leaping as he did so. “Alright. I'll distract them, you get up there!”

Harry was squishing back a grin as he swung himself onto the handle of the vat. See, Peter? You needed me after all!

It didn't take long for Peter to join him on the other side of the handle, and then two of them grabbed onto the bolts connecting it to the beam. “Pull!” Peter shouted.

The bolts were yanked out with little effort, Harry watching Peter swing away as the vat fell from under him. He stumbled, his heart racing as he jumped, barely looking for where he would land. He ended up crashing into the floor, hearing the vat crush and truck behind him.

“Harry!” Peter's hand was on his back, and suddenly he was being picked up. Oh dear. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Fine! I'm fine.” Harry wheezed, his ribs screaming at him. No matter. They didn't have time to rest. “That was fun!”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, and dangerous.”

“You get in situations like this all the time!” Harry nudged him. “How bad could this one be?” He reached out and catapulted himself into the next room.

Harry heard the thwip! of Peter's webs close behind. “Bad for someone with no experience!”

“I've got experience!” Harry retorted as the two swung through the factory. “I've been practicing since Coney Island! You saw my moves back there?”

He perched himself on one of the vats as he waited for Peter to catch up, only to falter slightly as his head spun. The thing was uncomfortably hot. He jumped back to the wall.

“Yeah, yeah.” He could hear the humor in Peter's voice. “Pretty impressive for a beginner!” Harry’s stomach flipped at that. “But this is still pretty hefty for someone who's never done something like this before.”

“Oh please.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I'm doing fine! This is the best I've ever felt in.. a long time! Is it always like this for you?”

“Easy now. It's not all punching bad guys. I've had to make some hard choices too.”

“Like the rollercoaster..?”

He watched Peter pause, his visors narrowing.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Harry hummed, then continued forward. “Well! Maybe you won't have to, now that you have your own bug buddy!”

He smirked as he heard Peter groan. “We're not calling ourselves that either. And I already have… bug buddies.”

“What's one more?”

Peter chuckled. “As long as you know what you're doing.”

“When have I not?” The two landed together on a thankfully empty vat, Peter shushing him when he spotted more hunters up ahead. Harry grinned.

Peter's voice was low. “Alright, let's–”

“Come on!” Harry jumped down from the vat. “Gotta hit them before they hit us!”

He couldn't hear Peter's response, not that it mattered to him in the moment. It was like he was on autopilot, fighting off anyone who dared to come too close, working alongside his best friend. He felt immortal.

Don't let it get to your head. How could he not? After years of being chained down by everything around him? Peter just didn't understand.

His back was turned when one of the hunters stepped to the edge of the balcony behind him, a missile launcher in hand. He wouldn't have even noticed if it hadn't been for Peter yelling out, then throwing himself into Harry to shove him out of the way. The missile crashed only a few feet away from them, blasting them both through the wall. Harry hit the metal beneath him with a painful thud, though he wasn't about to allow himself even a moment of rest. He moved to jump up, when–

Something in this room was screaming, the noise practically piercing through his skull. He stumbled back over, clutching his head with a cry. He pressed his hands over his ears, desperate to block out the sound, but it was too much. So much. It echoed through the room, through his mind, and alongside it was the suit. The suit itself, shrieking with panic. He felt the thing wavering, like it was struggling to stay attached to him. Clinging to him like a lifeline, ironic considering it was his.

Distantly, he heard Peter's voice, but it couldn't overpower the awful ring in his head. He couldn't think; it hurt too much to think. His head ached, he felt weak, and– and god , it was hot in here. Far too hot. He felt close to boiling alive, or maybe he already was.

He barely registered Peter grabbing onto him, before he was suddenly yanked out of… wherever they were. Next thing he knew, he was slammed against some sort of grate. Not on purpose, he hoped anyway. Peter couldn't be mad at him, and if he was, he certainly wouldn't hurt him over it.

The air was cooler here, the noise distant. He could hear Peter collapsing beside him as his mind cleared.

Harry rolled onto his back, a low groan escaping his throat. 

“You with me, buddy..?” Peter wheezed.

“‘m here…” Harry was only half sure of it.

There was a pause before he heard Peter shift, and then- Oh. His friend was suddenly slinging to him now, his head laying against Harry’s chest. That was fine.

“God, what.. What happened??” Peter raised his head. “I almost lost you back there!”

Really? Was the episode he'd just experienced that bad?

“I… I'm not.. not sure,” he admitted. “It was just.. It was so loud back there. You didn't hear it?”

Peter stared for a moment. “The alarm?”

“Whatever it was.” Harry gave a tired sigh. “I could barely think.”

He felt Peter let go of him, and Harry quickly looked up. “This is why you should've stayed home,” he could hear the man mutter.

“Wh- I'm helping!” Harry scrambled to his feet. “You'd be struggling if I wasn't here!”

“I'd rather struggle than lose you!” Peter whirled around. “Just–” He stopped… then let out a sigh. “I'm glad you want to help. Believe me, sometimes we need all the hands we can get. But, I'd feel better knowing you were more prepared.”

“Am I not?”

Peter shook his head. “A few days of teaching yourself moves isn't enough for tackling an entire building's worth of hunters.”

Harry felt his heart sink.

Something crashed in the distance. The two glanced over.

“Look–” Peter started to move. “We'll talk about this later! Let's get Tombstone and get out of here!”

Harry didn't give a verbal response as he followed Peter.

The Tombstone's cell was large, and crawling with hunters. Harry almost backed up at the sight. Almost.

“I'll distract them,” Peter hissed. “You find a way to break him free!”

Harry nodded. No reason to argue.

Slipping past the guards was fairly easy with Peter drawing the attention to himself. He hopped up onto the edge of the cell, faced with the towering frame of Tombstone himself. The man seemed unimpressed.

“I'm gonna break you out of here,” Harry started.

“You can't ,” the Tombstone cut in. “They rigged this whole thing.”

Harry scanned the area around them, spotting some sort of control panel above.

“Then I'll de-rig it!”

He boosted himself upwards, landing on the panel. He wasted little time tearing into it, ripping at the wiring. Whatever trap they'd set in place couldn't operate if there was nothing to power it.

Something exploded just right of him. He stumbled, gripping onto the panel so as to not fall off completely. The cell–the entire structure–was suddenly leaking molten metal everywhere he turned. The sight burned his eyes, the close proximity burning his skin.

He jumped back down, his heart racing.

“What did I just say?” Tombstone's stern tone made him flinch.

“I'm sorry.” Harry straightened up. “I'll figure something out. I can–”

He glanced back at Peter, who was still holding his own. Perfect. Harry still had time to fix this.

He willed all his strength, and the strength of his suit, to his arms as he grabbed onto the bars of the cage, trying desperately to bend them out of shape. Maybe creating an opening, or ripping them off entirely, would give Tombstone just enough space to escape. He just had to try.

Suddenly there were two much larger hands near his. Harry looked up to find Tombstone in front of him, helping to pry the bars apart. Harry lit up slightly.

The joy was short-lived. Harry heard Peter calling his name from behind him, giving him little time to react before he was swept off the ground. Something metal dug its sharp claws into him, carrying him far into the air. Harry gripped onto the thing's– wing? What had grabbed him?

He craned his neck to get a better look at the machine, which he realized resembled a large falcon. He had no idea where it came from, though it wasn't the time to try and figure it out. Harry reached down to its talons, trying to pull them off of him. He wasn't sure how the thing was even still functioning in this room. It was getting so dizzingly hot .

He ripped one of its legs off with ease, the area sparking. The machine made an odd noise, before veering to the side, much closer to the stream of liquid metal. Harry screeched.

Something clung to his back, and he was suddenly yanked from the air, crashing back into the bridge Peter had been standing on. 

“Harry!” Peter reached to pull him up. “Are you alright? Did that thing hurt you??”

“F-Fine. Fine!” Harry wrestled himself out of Peter's arms, wincing at a loud explosion from above them. “Come on! We have to get him out of there!”

Peter followed close behind as Harry rushed back to the cell, reaching his arms out to one of the already weakened bars and wrapping them tight around it, tugging as hard as he could. Peter webbed up the other, as well as the Tombstone pushing with all his might against both of them. 

Harry’s feet began to slip against the ground. His heart raced with anxiety. They didn't have a second to spare; why was the cell taking so long to break?? He needed out of here. It was all too loud, too hot, too much with the voice in the back of his head screaming to get out GET OUT GET OUT OF HERE.

The bars were finally torn off the cell, sending Harry tumbling backwards. The gap they created was large enough for Tombstone to barrel through, which he didn't hesitate to do.

“Let's go!” Peter called. Harry scrambled to his feet, wasting no time as he bolted for the door, his friend by his side. Dread pooled in his stomach at the sight ahead of them; fire and flame at every turn. The entire place was coming down. How were they meant to escape easily?

He followed Peter closely.

The two lost track of the Tombstone quickly, which only caused Harry’s head to spin even more. They'd risked their necks for him, and what if he couldn't even make it out alive? He didn't want to think about that.

Some structure groaned above them. Harry looked up for a split second, only to cry out as debris toppled over him.

He wasn't completely buried, but the bits of concrete and metal were squashing him just enough to make him panic. He screamed Peter's name as he tried to haul himself from the rubble. No answer. Had he lost him too?

Six goopy tendrils stretched from his back, shoving away anything that had landed on top of him. He drew in a breath, pushing himself to his feet. He barely noticed as the tendrils began to wither and crumble under the heat, quickly retreating back into his body. He raced forward.

Harry felt his heart leap at the sight of an opening up ahead. He stretched his arms out to grab at whatever he could in front of him, slingshotting himself further towards the exit. Upon landing, more of the ceiling began to fall through, threatening to crush him again. Not this time . He raised his arms to catch the debris, inky tentacles spreading out to help him.

He barely noticed Peter had arrived until he was slipping beneath the rubble and webbing Harry’s back, pulling him along. He rolled just far enough away as the rubble crashed, creating a plume of fire. Harry covered his face, the heat searing his skin. That awful screaming in his mind was back.

He felt Peter's hand on his shoulder. “Come on! We're almost out!” His voice was fuzzy, but thankfully understandable enough.

Harry had never been more thankful to see the sun once he was out. The three rushed behind a nearby building, where the Tombstone demanded for them to stop. Peter perched himself on the wall, looking down at Harry.

“Go see if we were followed.”

Harry nodded. “On it.”

They hadn't been; it didn't take long for Harry to figure that out upon searching. Yet he couldn't bring himself to head back to Peter. His friend was probably pissed at him, he'd spent the better half of the mission screwing everything up after all. Harry opted for climbing the nearest building instead.

He hung atop a signal tower, letting his mask draw back to soak up the fresh air. The chill autumn breeze felt lovely on his skin. He wouldn't mind sitting up here forever.

Alone with his thoughts, Harry felt something bitter boiling in his chest. How could he have let everything go so wrong? He was certain Peter wouldn't have made that many mistakes. Maybe he would've been better off without him after all.

But, he had it. For those first few fights, Harry felt like he was on top of the world. In a strange way, it had felt like the best day of his life. He was powerful, not bogged down by his own weakness or anyone telling him no. He was strong , invincible, free. He taught himself as much as he could, he felt ready to take on a real battle, and yet…

I almost lost you back there!

How close to death had he come?

Harry looked over at the sound of Peter's web, watching as his friend hopped onto the rooftop. “Find anyone?”

Harry shook his head. “We're in the clear.”

“That’s good.” Peter stepped closer, eventually joining him up on the signal tower, pulling his mask off. “You know, you did pretty alright for your first mission.”

“You think so?” Harry faced him. “Kinda thought I was just messing everything up.”

“You were.” Harry winced at the blunt tone of Peter's voice. “But… it would've been a lot harder if I didn't have help.”

“Yeah..?”

“I just think you need to start somewhere easier,” Peter explained. “Something with less fire,” he added with a giggle.

Harry couldn't help but smile. “Guess so,” he agreed. “This was… pretty intense, but, I also don’t regret it? I've never felt so free before!”

“Harry, I told you. You can't let that stuff get to your head.”

“But you don't get it!” Harry exclaimed. “I've felt so small and powerless for years! Like I've had no control over my own life! So finally being the one to pull the strings… You have no idea how much this means to me, Pete.”

His friend stared for a long while, before sighing. “I just don't want to see anything happen to you…”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I've made it this far, how much worse can it get?” He smiled. “I mean, I survived that death trap–” Harry motioned back to the now burning building. “So that must mean I'm set, right?”

Peter laughed. “Alright, don't get too cocky.” Harry couldn't help but stare at the look of joy on his face. “Look, here's the deal. You rest up, and tomorrow we can meet somewhere for proper training. I'll even see if Miles and Phin can tag along. You'll learn a little bit from all of us.”

Harry perked up. “You mean that?”

“Of course,” Peter nodded. “I see how much you want this. I just want you to know what you're doing so you stay safe. Got it?”

Harry tilted his head. Didn't he know what he was doing at least a little bit? If he didn't, he'd be dead by now.

He chose not to argue. He certainly hadn't given Peter any reason to believe he knew what he was doing today.

“Got it,” Harry answered. “So.. spider pals still happening then?”

“Or whatever we're calling it.” Peter grinned, reaching his fist out to Harry, who happily mirrored him.

As soon as their hands touched, several small tendrils shot from Harry’s arm to cling to Peter. His friend quickly tried to pull away.

“What are you–”

“Hold on–”

Harry yanked his arm back just as the suit finally released its grip, sending them both toppling off the signal tower.

Harry landed on his back with a grunt, drawing in a sharp breath. He wasn’t sure how many more of these falls he could take. He glanced over to Peter, who was rolling onto his side.

“Sorry,” he muttered, sitting up. “Still figuring out how this thing works, I guess.

He stood at the same time as Peter, whose gaze was strangely focused on his chest. What.

“Hah! Nice design!”

Harry gave him a look. “What do you mean?”

“Didn't you just–” Peter pointed to Harry’s suit, then back at his own.

Harry looked down, met with the suit of a white emblem on his chest plates. Not exactly a spider, but was shaped similarly enough.

“Huh! I guess I did.” He chuckled. “Would you look at that. Guess that makes us official then?”

“Sure,” Peter grinned. God, his smile was addicting.

“Uh.. I– I should probably head home now,” Harry stammered. “Can't let Dad see I'm gone. He'd lose it.”

“Good call,” Peter spoke. “I'll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.” Harry backed up. “Yeah, see you then!”

He turned and raced for the edge of the building, leaping off of it and swinging himself away. He felt light as a feather, gliding through the city like he owned it. It was his to protect now, after all.

He felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

Chapter Text

Peter promised himself he'd shake off the nerves by now, and yet worry still wormed its way through his gut. He enjoyed the idea of Harry working alongside him, but all logic in his head screamed that he shouldn't allow this; that he needed to do all that he could to keep Harry out of harm's way. He'd already lost him for two years, he couldn't risk losing him permanently.

But, the excited smile on Harry’s face was still burned in his mind. Horrible as the mission may have gone, it managed to bring his friend some level of joy. He hadn't seen Harry so gleeful in… years . The thought of shattering that hope made Peter feel sick with guilt.

He hoped he could teach Harry enough to keep him safe. He'd already done it once. Miles had turned out spectacularly, but something felt different now. Because Miles had experience, Miles was skilled enough that he'd saved the city on his own once before already. He trusted Miles, and–

Well. He trusted Harry too, didn't he? Of course he did. More than anything. Peter was just anxious was all. Not distrustful. Anxious. Who wouldn't be when their best friend is asking to put their life on the line every day?

He'd chosen the rooftop of a skyscraper for them to meet up. Tall enough that few other buildings around matched their height, it gave them just enough privacy to assemble without any onlookers to spy, or take videos, or spread rumors about the new black-suited figure in town.

He'd been pacing for a while. He'd gotten there pretty early.

The man practically jumped when he heard something land behind him. Peter whipped around, only to find Harry standing behind him.

“Easy there!” His friend raised his hands innocently. “I thought you had your weird spider sense. You couldn't tell I was coming?”

Peter sighed, relaxing. “Guess not.” He walked over. “It never goes off for you.”

“Aw.” Harry nudged him. “I must be special.”

Peter chuckled nervously. “Maybe so.”

Harry looked around. “Is it just us? I thought you invited the others.”

“I did. They'll be here,” Peter assured him.

“Hope to make a good first impression then.” Harry clapped his hands together.

“You already met them once, Harry,” Peter smiled.

“Yeah! But.” Harry paused, wandering away. “I don't know. Feel like I missed a huge chunk of your life while I was in treatment. Now I have to worm my way back in. And that starts with getting on good with your new friends, right?”

Peter couldn't help but laugh. “Har, you'll be fine. You don't have to try and earn your place back in my life. You're already part of it. Nothing's gonna change that.”

“Not even being gone for two years?” Harry scratched the back of his neck.

“You could be gone for a decade, and you'll still be important to me,” Peter spoke. “Don’t sweat it, ok? Just.. let's look at things like we never had any time apart.”

He knew that was impossible, for both of them. But it was nice to dream, at least.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great.”

Peter patted Harry’s shoulder. God. To think their biggest worry was the grade they'd get on their next math test once.

The faintest sound of thwipping in the distance was enough to draw Harry’s attention away. “Is that Miles?”

“I'd sure hope so,” Peter answered. His friend's swings sounded erratic. Was he running from something?

Harry was the first to head towards the edge of the rooftop, Peter following suit. They peered over for only a moment, before both stumbled backwards as another figure flew past them.

She landed with a stomp, her metallic wings fluttering once before disintegrating in a purple glow. She quickly turned around, like she was looking for something.

Miles hopped onto the rooftop close to Peter and Harry, looking out of breath. “You- You cheated!”

“Did I?” Phin placed a hand on her hip.

“It's no fair when you can fly.” Miles headed over to her.

“Not my fault I need quicker ways of getting around,” Phin retorted. “And you have wings!”

“Not like yours!”

Harry snorted. “They're just like we used to be.”

“Hah! Never thought about it like that,” Peter grinned. “Guys!”

The two froze.

“Done over there?” Peter crossed his arms. His tone was playful.

“Right- Right.” Miles straightened up. “Nice to see you again, Harry!”

“You too!” Harry waved.

“Did you make that?” Phin asked.

Harry gave her a look. “Wh- Huh?”

“The suit.” She motioned to him.

“Oh! Kinda, yeah!”

“Looks cool.”

“I was gonna say the same thing,” Miles added. “You look like a secret agent.”

“Yeah?” Harry chuckled. “Well, uh- Glad other people like it!”

“Aw, look at that,” Peter stepped in. “My best friends already getting along.”

“Wait.” Phin looked over. “I'm a best friend?”

“Sure you are.” Peter nudged her. “If you want to be?”

Phin snickered. “I'm honored.”

Harry shifted. He knew Peter hadn't known these people as long as he'd known Harry, but they spoke and laughed with each other as if they'd been with one another their whole lives. It didn't get to him that much, but really, Harry was the one who should've been the most important–

Stop that. These people weren't competition. Peter wasn't a trophy to be won, he was a person. A person who'd made the smart decision to find new friends and allies when it was clear his closest one couldn't be with him through everything.

He cleared his throat. “So! Um… was there anywhere we were gonna start? I'm sure you guys planned something for me.”

“Oh no, we're winging it.” Phin walked closer to him, prompting Harry to back up the smallest bit. “You like swords?”

“Uh–”

“Leave him alone.” Miles gently tugged her back. Phin only giggled.

“Well, first we need to know how much you've already learned.” Harry turned his attention to Peter as he spoke. “You've obviously taught yourself a little bit.”

“Yeah, mostly the basics,” Harry nodded. “And a few tricks with the suit.” Two long tendrils emerged from his back, four smaller ones appearing at his sides. He hadn't commanded them to, but he supposed they helped to sell his point.

“Woah.” Miles lit up. “That's pretty cool!”

Peter backed up a bit. “Yeah.. Yeah! Cool.” He coughed. “So, you know how to defend yourself, and your… arms can function as webs if you use them right. We can work with this.”

“Perfect!” Harry beamed. “What's- What's first, then?”

“We'll start off with something simple,” Peter decided. “Usually when on the job, you're gonna end up against people who have some sort of weapon. You've already experienced this with the hunters. Most enemies aren't going to be as strong as you, their weapon is mainly what they're relying on. In that instance, it's good to learn how to disarm them.”

He turned, motioning for Phin to join them.

“Oh shit, we're actually starting with the swords!” Harry could hear the smile in her voice as she pranced over. The girl grabbed a handle from her belt, swishing it as it materialized into a sword. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Phin's style of combat relies mostly on her weapons,” Peter continued, causing Phin to give him a look. “It's not difficult to disarm the enemy, but it can be tricky if they know what they're doing. If you time your attack right, you can–”

“Ok dude, you don't have to explain me like a tutorial,” Phin cut in. “Let him learn on his own.”

“I'm just trying to–”

Peter didn't have another moment to speak before Phin raced at Harry, raising her sword to swing at him. He jumped out of the way.

“Phin!” Peter huffed. Behind him, he could hear Miles snickering, and he whipped around. “What??”

His friend shrugged. “Should've expected this, man.”

Harry stumbled onto his back, having only a second to breathe before rolling out of the way to avoid another strike. He was sure Phin didn't intend to hurt him–she seemed to be moving just slow enough to allow him to dodge her attacks–but nevertheless, she wasn't going easy on him. In a way, he didn't mind it.

He pushed himself up onto one knee just as Phin aimed her sword again. With no room to escape, he shielded his head with both arms, bracing for impact.

Her sword landed, the blade unable to slice through the suit.

“Oh, sick!” he heard her exclaim. “Cool powers and your suit is indestructible??”

Indestructible. Harry liked the sound of that.

He thrust both his arms back, knocking Phin a few steps away from him. She swiftly found her balance and tightened her grip on her sword, swiping it up as Harry stretched one of his arms to snatch it.

The girl barked a laugh, charging Harry once more. He backed up, his mind racing with new strategies, and before he could approve of it, his arm swelled into a dark mass, slamming into the ground and sending him flying above Phin.

She skidded to a halt, offering him an opening to reach his other hand at her, yanking the sword from his grasp. The force of it managed to tug her off her feet, and she hit the ground with a grunt.

Harry crashed shoulder first, rolling onto his stomach. His arm retracted, dragging the sword with it.

Peter was at his side before he could raise his head.

“Are you alright? Did you get hurt anywhere??” What was he panicking for? Harry felt better than ever!

“Yeah, yeah.” He gently waves Peter off, raising the sword like a trophy to flaunt. “I got it!”

Miles helped Phin to her feet. “You good?”

“Great,” she giggled. “That was fun!”

“No, it was dangerous.” Peter started toward her. “You didn't have to go so hard on him!”

Harry’s heart sank as Peter walked away. He hadn't even congratulated him.

“He's fine,” Phin shrugged. “Look at him.”

Harry stood. “She's right! I'm fine!” He could hardly contain his own energy. “I did what you asked, and you said it yourself! Some people are gonna be more skilled than others. What if I was going up against, like, a really good swordfighter, right? They're not gonna go easy on me. So, that was a pretty good idea of what an actual fight would be like.”

Peter only gave him a look.

“Plus, I've already been in a real fight once!” Harry added. “I already know what to expect.”

“Barely,” Peter sighed. “One fight doesn't suddenly make you ready. It takes practice.”

Something bubbled within Harry. “Isn't that what I'm doing?”

“Yeah, but–” Peter stumbled. “Just–”

Just what? Play it safe? Take things slow? Peter never did any of that, so why should he expect Harry to?

“Hey.” Miles suddenly had his hand on Peter's shoulder, prompting him to look over. “Why don't you take a minute, ok? I got this.”

Harry blinked. What did that even mean.

Peter stared at his friend for a moment, before sighing. “Fine,” was all he muttered, stepping to the side.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. Why was Peter treating him like a child? In front of others, no less?

He turned his attention to Miles, who seemed far more confident.

“One of the biggest steps in combat is learning how to block,” he explained. “You've already got a pretty good advantage, seeing as your suit can't be cut through.”

“Yeah, it's weird.” Harry tested the blade against his hand, watching it bounce off the dark glove, before tossing it back to Phin. “When I was fighting the hunters, I could use some of the suit's tendrils to block out their bullets. I wonder if that applies to the whole thing. Though I guess that's not something we could test easily.”

“Probably not.” Miles shook his head. “But at least you're already learning how it can protect you! We'll start with some basic punches and kicks first, maybe practice more with the weapons if you're feeling up to it.”

“Man, you guys aren't even asking me at this point.” Phin sat cross legged on the ground. “What if I'm tired?” Her tone was playful.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Miles snapped. “Two hours of sleep over there.”

“Ok, that's not even fair!” Phin retorted, but she'd already lost Miles's attention as he focused back on Harry.

Peter's gaze followed the two as they sparred, Harry countering each blow with his arms. Though sometimes he missed; sometimes Miles managed to land a punch to his shoulder, or a kick to his stomach, and Peter wanted to jump in, wanted to scold Miles for not being more careful. Except… he was. Peter could tell in the kid's body language. He was holding back as much as he could. If he'd been using his full strength, Harry would've surely been knocked out by now, or at least far more injured. He wasn't in any danger, far from it, and yet Peter still felt a need to rush to his rescue anyway. Why was that?

He supposed he'd always been that way. Years ago, he'd beg Harry not to try and play hero for him. His friend loved acting tough in front of other kids much bigger than him if it meant sparing Peter another beating. He recalled several times where he, Harry and MJ would hide themselves in the biggest stall in the bathrooms as MJ tried to cover the bruises on Harry’s face with her makeup. If Harry knew his father would see it, then he was set on erasing the evidence that he was ever hurt. Not because Norman would punish him, but because Harry considered his threats against the other kids’ families as rather shameful (and irritating, as in his words, the only time Norman seemed to care about his son was when something bad happened to him).

Now, Harry playing hero meant the chance of being killed. Coming home with a black eye meant the certainty that Norman would keep him cooped up in the penthouse for another several months. There were too many risks that Harry was playing with, and the fact that he just couldn't understand made Peter want to rip his hair out.

He looks happy though. Under all that worry and stress was the small joy blossoming in his chest seeing Harry so enthusiastic about something. At least he was doing something he wanted, something that made him feel good about himself.

Peter just wished that something was less dangerous.

Part way through their training session, Miles suddenly raised a hand. “Hang on, hang on!” Harry froze. “My friend is talking to me.” Miles walked off, bringing his fingers to his ear.

Harry tilted his head, before turning around. “What?”

“Communication device built into the mask,” Phin told him. “We all have it.”

“Oh.” That left Harry with two thoughts. One, that he needed to figure out a way to get that installed into his own mask, which would definitely be a challenge. Two: who was the friend??

Miles turned to face them again. “Ganke says there's a car chase happening a few blocks from here. Seems pretty serious.”

“Got it.” Peter quickly straightened up. “Let's go.”

“Bet we can handle it pretty quick,” Harry smirked. “What, with all four of us.”

“No no, just me and Miles,” Peter decided. “You two stay here.”

Harry stared at him. “What?”

“Wh–” Phin scrambled to her feet. “Why me??”

“More practice!” Peter answered. “We'll be back!”

“You got this!” Miles pointed at her. “Show him some of your tech!”

The two were off before Phin or Harry could get another word in.

“Wait!” Harry called, rushing to the edge of the building. Phin joined him, though she seemed a lot more calm. “What the hell…”

“They do this a lot,” Phin sighed.

The two spiders zipped around each other, like an elaborate game they'd practiced several times before. One that Harry was not welcome to join.

He grumbled, walking away. Phin glanced over to him. “You alright?”

“I'm fine.” Harry slumped onto the ground. “Just.. It's funny. He says he wants to start me off with something simple, and then when it actually happens, he tells me to wait. Like he's my babysitter or something!” When he got no response, he sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn't be throwing this all on you. I barely know you.”

“No worries.” Phin made her way to him and sat across from him. She reached into her pocket and pulled something out–a container of gum, he noticed–then motioned it to him as an offering. He watched for a moment, but quickly held his hand out to let her pour a piece into it.

“Thanks.”

Phin nodded, taking a piece of gum for herself. She pulled her hood down and let her mask draw back, and Harry couldn't help but study the faintest scars along her face, and the purple streak in her hair. He hadn't noticed those back at Coney Island.

He drew his own mask back. Not like they were in a place where they could be seen. She seemed to smile.

“So. The suit. Like… what is it?”

“Oh.” Harry paused. How was he meant to explain without revealing way too much information to someone he just met? “Uh. I'm not.. entirely sure? I know it has a mind of its own, at least a little bit. Sometimes just does what it wants. I think my dad was holding onto it, then… gave it to me.” She didn't need to know the reason it was given to him.

“Oh wow.” Phin's eyes were wide. “A live suit? That's pretty crazy.”

“Yeah! Weird.” Harry scratched the back of his neck.

“Can't imagine what Norman could've possibly needed that for,” Phin mentioned, before clearing her throat. “Sorry, I– no offense.”

“None taken.” Harry knew enough about the things he missed while locked away that he couldn't even be upset how little trust the city had in his father. Part of it hurt. “So. What's your story then? How'd you end up here?” Since we're apparently playing ice breaker now.

Phin coughed. “That is a really loaded question.”

“Oh– Sorry.” Dammit . “You don't have to answer that.”

“No, you're good.” Phin waved him off. “I'll just tell you I made the tech mostly out of spite.”

Harry snorted. “Best reason to make something. You did it all by yourself?”

“Yeah. I have an old family shop out in Greenwich. It's not open anymore, so I use it as my lab.”

“Huh.” Harry tilted his head. “You've got everything figured out, don't you?”

Phin shrugged. “Guess so. Anyway, once the original reason I made this stuff was gone, I decided to repurpose it. Also, Miles is my friend. Of course I'm gonna join him.”

“Was he weird about it? When you started?” It occurred to Harry only after speaking that he didn't if that was another personal question.

“No. But I think that's because I already had experience? I've had this stuff for years.”

“Got it…” Harry fidgeted with the suit.

“Just give it time,” Phin told him, leaning her head on her hand. “He'll get over it.”

“I hope you're right. Guess I just have to keep practicing until I'm good enough for him.” Harry perked up a bit. “Did.. you still wanna train?”

Phin glanced at him. “Only if you want to.”

“I do.”

The girl smirked, hopping back up on her feet. “We keep going until one of us gets tired. Whoever drops first buys lunch.”

“Wh–” Harry looked up. “Why??”

“Cause.” Phin gently flicked his forehead. “I know you're gonna drop first.”

Harry blinked, then felt a familiar fire burning in his chest, the same one that set ablaze whenever he and Peter were up late playing video games together, or when MJ dared him onto the tallest rides at Coney Island. That competitive spirit in his heart that told him he needed to win.

“Alright.” He stood, willing his mask back over his face. “We'll see about that.”

Maybe he should've been more concerned that fighting suddenly brought him such joy, but he couldn't help it. It was so freeing! And if Peter couldn't see that, then maybe it wasn't his place to be judging. If he could see Harry now, then surely he'd be proud anyway.

Even if both Harry and Phin ended up dead exhausted by the time Peter and Miles returned.

Chapter Text

MJ's apartment was just as peaceful as Harry remembered. Warm rays of sun shining onto white walls through the windows, with potted plants gathered in one of them to soak up the light. She usually had music playing on her radio, said she needed the background noise to get anything done. And there was always some sort of sweet treat in the kitchen, which Harry always stole for himself (not that she minded, though).

He was laid out on the couch, watching her in the kitchen as she dug through the refrigerator.

“You haven't come up with a name for yourself, at least?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Harry shrugged. “I'm not really sure what I want to be yet. Or if I even want to stick to one theme. The suit can change however I want it to, and how cool would it be if I switched up every now and then?”

“Lucky,” MJ joked, pulling a container of strawberries from the fridge. “When Peter wants to change his suit, I have to listen to him whine about how long it takes.”

“Exactly! All I have to do is tell it what I want, and it just.. does! Might as well take advantage of that, right?”

“Is that thing really alive?” MJ glanced at him.

“I think?” Harry sat up a bit.

“Does it, like… talk to you?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “If it wants to communicate, I usually just feel it moving somewhere in me? It's kind of awful.”

MJ grimaced. “Sounds awful.” She set the strawberries aside and grabbed a bottle of chocolate sauce. “Where did your dad even find something like that?”

“Beats me. It's keeping me alive though, so guess it's a miracle that he did.”

MJ chuckled. “You got that right.” She scooped a couple strawberries into a glass bowl and went to run it under the faucet. “At this point, I might have to join you guys. I'm starting to feel left out.”

“Good luck with that,” Harry sighed, falling on his back once more. “Peter might lose his mind.”

MJ gave him a look. “How so?”

“He's just being weird about it,” Harry huffed. “I kinda get it. My first mission went… awful . And I probably shouldn't be handling stuff that big right now, but he wouldn't even let me help them with a car chase!”

MJ nodded, her focus entirely on him now.

“And he got kinda mad at Phin for going too hard on me? Which I don't even think she was, but it's not like an actual bad guy is gonna go easy on me to begin with? So I don't get what he was so upset about.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Just kind of annoying.”

MJ shook her head, a smile on her face as she grabbed a smaller bowl. “Sounds like Peter, alright. Stuff like that is why I broke up with him..”

Harry looked over. He'd been surprised initially when he found out Peter and MJ were no longer together, but he hadn't gotten a chance to ask why.

“What did happen with you guys?” he questioned.

“He was just too overbearing,” MJ elaborated. “He acted like he was responsible for me, and all it did was make me feel like a child.”

“That's exactly it!” Harry exclaimed. “Man. I love him, but what makes him think he's in charge of me?”

“Well. To be a little fair, you are new to all this.” MJ poured some chocolate sauce into the smaller bowl.

“I guess… but still! I'm a grown man. If I wanna handle a car chase then I should be allowed to.”

“Well, why don't you?” MJ walked over with both bowls in each hand, sitting on the floor beside Harry.

“I–” Harry paused. “Well, I don't wanna piss him off. And besides, nothing's really happened since yesterday. Not anything I know of.”

“There's always something going on in this city,” MJ reminded him. “If you went searching, you'd probably find someone who needs your help.”

“Maybe.” Harry turned over and reached for a strawberry, dipping it in the chocolate. “Not right now though. Peter's definitely out there, and, I've got my best friend right in front of me. That's enough for me.”

MJ couldn't help but grin, before nudging him. “You're such a sap.”

“Sorry for loving my favorite people, I guess!” He rolled onto his back once more and took a bite of his strawberry, only to find MJ still staring at him. “What?”

“Nothing, it's just..” The woman reached to card her fingers through his hair. Harry shivered. “It's.. crazy having you right here. Feels like a lifetime since we've hung out like this.”

“Does it?” Harry shifted slightly, melting under her touch. “When I woke up, it felt like… it felt like it had only been a night. One minute, I'm 23 and hoping I'll get to see your faces again, and the next, it's a new year and I'm suddenly 25, and everything feels so different . It's almost hard to keep up with.”

“It’s been hard without you,” MJ mentioned. Harry felt his heart swell at that.

“Yeah?”

MJ nodded. “I mean, how can anyone survive without you there to brighten their day?” She smiled at him.

“Oh, stop.” Harry shoved her playfully. “I'm sure you guys managed just fine.”

“Barely!” MJ giggled. “Really, Harry, we missed you.”

The man only averted his gaze. He wasn't sure if he felt like they missed him that much while he was gone. Sure, they said it a million times over, but they were fine, weren't they? If he'd been out for longer, would they have noticed? Would it matter?

Maybe some part of himself had hoped the entire world would stop for him. Not because he wanted his friends to suffer in his absence, but because of the reassurance that other people needed him.

The thought was pretty selfish, looking back on it.

“Well, you have me now.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “And trust me, you won't be able to get rid of me for a long time.”

“As if we'd try!” MJ feigned offense. “I think you miss the part where we're not letting go of you anytime soon. You're trapped with us.”

“Oh, the horror,” Harry grinned. Maybe he was a little more willing to believe his absence had left an impact now.

It felt like hours had passed of nothing but talking, about life, MJ's job, old memories from school. Harry couldn't ask for anything more, really. In a world where he'd lost two years locked away in a lab, he didn't mind losing one day to someone he loved.

The two found themselves on MJ's balcony now, Harry soaking up the last few rays of the sun.

“So, what's your plan now?” MJ sat across from him. “I mean, obviously you have the foundation, but what all do you want to do with it?”

“Everything!” Harry sat up. “One of our projects right now is trying to protect honeybees. We created these drones that are meant to ward off predators. I'd love to do similar projects in the future focused in other endangered species too. There's so many in the world, and not a lot of people realize that! Repopulating trees is another one I want to get to as soon as possible. And working to get clean water to places that need it! I know it sounds like a lot, but–”

He heard MJ giggling, and turned to her. “What?”

“Nothing! Just like hearing you talk is all. I could ask you about anything, and you'll make a tagent out of it.”

Harry felt his face heat up slightly. “Yeah, well. I consider it a skill.”

“I'd say it is,” she assured him. “I am glad you're so passionate about this, though. I think the world needs more people like you, especially when we've got assholes like Simon Krieger, or your–”

She paused, then grimaced as she looked down. Harry didn't need to hear her next word, though. He already had a good idea who she was talking about.

“Yeah..” He looked out towards the city. “I… still don't know all of what happened while I was in treatment. But part of me doesn't really want to, which feels selfish. I love him, but I don't want to feel permanently tied to him. I don't want people to tie me to him. I know it every time someone looks at me; they see Norman Osborn before they see me.”

“Then prove them wrong,” MJ urged him. “Show them you're here to heal the world, not hurt it.”

Harry beamed a small bit. “Hope I can do a good job of it.”

Somewhere beneath them was the constant wailing of police sirens, growing louder as they drew near. Harry turned to get a better look at the street, watching as several cop cars raced by. Concern flashed across his face.

MJ stood, holding onto the railing as she focused on the street as well. “Maybe now's your chance,” she commented. “That looks bad.”

“What–” Harry glanced back at her. “But I– you–”

“I'll be fine!” MJ spoke.

“But what about Peter??” Harry argued.

“Harry, people could be in danger! Who cares what he'd say?” MJ stressed. “Besides, maybe he'll relax if he sees you can handle something yourself.”

Her words managed to ignite something in Harry. What better way than to show Peter he didn't need to be coddled than to prove it to him?

“Right– Right!” He scrambled to his feet, his suit clawing its way from his chest to cover him. MJ backed up a bit, watching as he climbed onto the railing and turned back to her. “Thanks, MJ.”

She couldn't help but smile. “Anytime. Now hurry!”

Harry nodded, lunging from the balcony and letting his suit guide him as he swung after the blue and red lights up ahead. It occurred to him as the evening breeze chilled his skin that this would be the first the city would get a proper glimpse at their latest masked hero. His heart sounded a little harder. He hoped to make a good first impression.

Harry landed on a tower, assessing the danger below. More hunters, he gathered, surrounded by a pretty sloppy ring of fire they'd created in the intersection. What were they doing?

His gaze shifted to the police, who were approaching the ring with their guns drawn. This looked like a bloodbath waiting to happen, and he couldn't allow it.

The hunters were so focused on the police that none thought to look up when a dark figure dropped down from the sky, extending his arm and knocking the group backwards. Harry raised his other hand to the cops, signaling them to halt.

“Stay back! I can handle this!” he ordered, so caught up in the moment that he entirely forgot that these people didn't know him. No one did, and in their eyes, he probably seemed much more frightening than he intended.

A few opened fire, sending him stumbling forward as several tendrils curled over his back to shield him. Panic crossed his mind alongside frustration. What was their deal? He was here to help!

He heard someone screaming to cease fire, as well as something metallic clinking against the ground beside him. Harry glanced down, spotting… a bullet? Had that fallen out of him?

He realized, as several more hit the concrete, that he hadn't felt a single bullet pierce his skin. The suit had caught them before they could ever leave a wound, and was now expelling them from his body.

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, Harry pushed himself to his feet, feeling as though the universe itself was on his side as he faced the hunters. There was nothing they could do to hurt him; he practically had an unfair advantage here, and he loved the idea of that.

Harry didn't give them even a moment to come to their senses before he charged them, two tendrils boosting him up so he could kick one hunter down, before he turned and outstretched his arm to punch another away from him. One of the hunters tried to tackle him from behind, wrapping her arms around his neck, to which he responded by elbowing her once, then twice, then another tendril appeared from his side and to yank her off of him.

He took a breath, looking up as other hunters surrounding him.

“Who are you!” one of them demanded. Harry’s visors narrowed as he launched another punch to knock him down.

“Wouldn't you like to know,” Harry taunted. “What are you all doing here?”

“We were hoping to draw out the spiders,” another hunter answered, and he turned to face her. “You'll suffice well enough though. I hear you're responsible for us losing the Tombstone.”

His heart leaped. What did they want with Peter and Miles?

“Yeah, and I barely broke a sweat getting him out of there!” Harry barked. That was a lie, but what did they know? “You guys are nothing to me! So we can make this easy, and you all pack up and leave, or I'll force you out of here myself!”

There was a pause, of nothing in the air but the fire crackling around them, and the hunters sharing looks between each other, and a mutual understanding, both from them and from Harry, that they didn't take a word of what he was saying seriously.

Several hunters ran for him at once. Harry froze, his mind racing with too many actions to take, so much so that it paralyzed him.

The suit responded first, creating a protective cocoon around him as the hunters drew closer, then exploding in a barrage of spikes similar to an urchin that sent the hunters tumbling away from Harry. He shook his head and focused back in on the task at hand, lunging into battle.

There were two things on his mind as he fought. One, that these people really stood no chance against him. Their blades, their guns, none of it could hurt him. It filled him with a wild motivation to keep going, to prove to these people that he was a force to be reckoned with.

The other thing he realized was that every second he spent here, keeping the hunters occupied, was a second spent allowing others to get further away from the danger. Every moment here was a life saved, and a chance for Peter and Miles to hide themselves away until it was over, because whatever intentions these people had for them, they certainly weren't good. Harry was willing to take a few punches if it meant ensuring the safety of others.

One of the hunters scrambled back to their truck, digging through the back and grabbing hold of a rocket launcher. He climbed atop the truck and aimed the weapon at Harry, swiftly pulling the trigger.

The missile landed a few feet away from Harry, knocking him and some of the other hunters from their place. Harry crashed near the fire, where the flames licked at his suit and suddenly burned a hole in it. Harry cried out, stumbling away as he grabbed at his arm, disoriented by that familiar screaming in his head.

He barely had a moment to stand before he was tackled by another hunter, through the fire and outside the ring. As if his suit needed even more damage.

Harry howled with fury as he hit the ground, glaring at the man above him. The hunters raised his sword to stab into him, prompting Harry to roll out of the way, then once more as the man attempted a second time. On his third try, Harry bent his knees and kicked the man away, before moving to push himself up.

Most of him was still covered, thankfully, but there were holes and rips all over his suit. Panic began to wash over him–would it be able to fix itself?

He didn't have time to dwell on it as more hunters made their way after him. A bit less now than before–at least he'd managed to knock a few out. Still, there was work to be done, and Harry wasn't one to back down.

The more they battled, the further they spilled into the street, which was what Harry wanted to avoid. He couldn't allow any further damage, but it was getting increasingly more difficult to keep control of the situation. One hunter jumped on his back again, prompting him to flip them over onto the ground. Another raced at him with her sword raised. In a split second, he grabbed the sword by its blade and snapped it in half, relishing in the stunned look on the hunter's face as he kicked her backwards.

Only a few remained now, firing up Harry’s will to keep pushing forward, when–

A familiar thwipping sound cut through the air. Harry looked up to find that flashy red and blue blur gliding through the air, landing a strong punch to one of the hunters as he fell. He looked over to Harry, who lit up at the sight of him. Surely he'd be blown away by Harry’s effort here; he practically had the whole thing dealt with already!

Peter didn't have the chance to speak as another hunter rushed him from behind. Harry charged into action, catapulting himself over Peter similar to how he'd done with Phin, thankfully landing on his feet this time. He yanked the hunter off of Peter and threw him to the ground, standing by as Peter webbed the man's wrist to concrete. Peter gave Harry a nod before running off to deal with the rest, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat.

It was when they'd finally taken down every hunter that Peter finally spoke.

“Harry.” He was at his friend's side in an instant. “God– Look what they did to you!

“What?” Harry glanced down at the hole in the arm of his suit. “Oh. That's nothing. I think the suit got damaged more than I did.”

“That's– That's still not a good thing??” Peter sounded exasperated. “Harry, what were you thinking?”

“Well I–”

The police were making their way over to them. Peter huffed.

“Come on. Let's get out of here.”

Peter didn't allow Harry a moment to respond, wrapping his arms around Harry’s chest and swinging off, earning a yelp from Harry. Strangely, Harry was slightly ok with this. Would be more if anger wasn't flooding his mind.

Peter set Harry down gently, then had the audacity to look surprised as Harry walked off.

“I don't know what you're so worried about,” he scoffed. “I was doing fine! I had them under control.”

“Barely.” Peter looked him up and down.

“So I got a little banged up.” Harry waved him off. “You're acting like you don't!”

Peter shook his head. “It could've gone a lot worse, though! You don't have a lot of experience!”

“But it didn't,” Harry reminded me. “Look at me. I'm still alive. Not hurt too much. And think of how much more damage they could've caused if I hadn't gotten there when I did.” He made his way back over to Peter. “Admit it. I did pretty good out there, didn't I?”

Peter's hand drifted to Harry’s cheek, freezing the man in his place. He stroked his thumb over a tear in Harry’s mask. “You're bleeding…”

Harry stumbled over his words for much longer than necessary. “That's– Not the point!” He smacked Peter's hand away. “If you're so worried, maybe you should've gotten here faster.”

Peter shifted, averting his gaze. “Maybe you're right.”

Harry watched him closely. He crossed his arms over himself.

“Look,” Peter sighed. “I'm glad you're ok, really. Just… you can't go home like that, can you?”

“I–” Harry paused. “Oh…” How would he be able to sneak around his dad like this?

“Yeah…” Peter scratched the back of his neck. “I think.. we're close to the foundation. Would anyone be there right now?”

“Not at this hour.”

“Then I'll fix you up there,” Peter told him. “Deal?”

Harry stared at him. After getting on his case for daring to handle something on his own? Who did he think he was?

Only your best friend. Shaking the thought from his head was more difficult than he was ok with. Only Peter Parker, only the guy he trusted with his life, only that quiet boy in his class who he could never really take his eyes off of…

The fire in him had long burned out.

“Yeah… yeah, ok. Sure.” He hated how easily he was giving in. Whatever. He could be mad at Peter later.

Chapter Text

There was always something different about being in the foundation after hours. How dark it was without the sun's rays shining through. It made their office feel all the more brighter, cozier.

Harry sat on the counter as Peter fumbled with the first aid kit. His suit had long since retracted, leaving him in his regular clothes and covered in scratches and small bruises. It was a wonder that being thrown through flames hadn't injured him worse. He guessed he had the suit to thank for that.

Peter poured some disinfectant onto a cloth and dabbed it onto Harry’s cheek without warning. The man hissed, leaning away from it.

“Easy there,” he complained.

“Sorry,” Peter sighed. “It’s gonna sting. Just sit still.”

He cupped Harry’s face, probably to hold him in place, but his touch was soft and made Harry’s skin tingle. He tried to ignore his heart suddenly racing as Peter started cleaning the wound again.

“You uh–” Harry cleared his throat. “You know what you're doing, huh?”

“Done it on myself lots of times.” Peter moved on to Harry’s other injuries. “You get used to it after the first… five times? Six? I don't remember.”

“You should let me take care of you for once.” Harry couldn't squash back the smirk on his face.

Peter snorted. “You wouldn't know what you're doing.”

“Sure I would!” Harry grinned. “I'd learn it all from you.”

Peter seemed to pause for a moment, then quickly shook his head. “Yeah, alright.”

“C'mon,” Harry insisted. “When's the last time anyone looked out for you?”

Peter chuckled. “I don't need any of that, Har.”

“Don’t you?”

Peter looked up at him.

“You can't really think you're fine handling all this alone, right?”

Peter averted his gaze and shrugged. “That’s how it's been for years. It's what I'm used to.”

“It doesn't have to be.”

“I know that,” Peter retorted. “It's just.. easier, I guess? Not needing to put this stuff on anyone else. Don't want to burden them.”

“I don't think caring about you is all that much of a burden,” Harry pointed out. “Besides, you're patching me up right now. What's so wrong with me wanting to return the favor?”

“I didn't say it was wrong. Just that I don't need it.”

“Well… I don't care what you need.” Harry sat up straight. “You're helping me, and– and everyone else out of the kindness of your heart, and you don't think you deserve that back?”

“Harry, I–”

“Or all those times you'd try to help me out whenever Flash got ahold of me? Or tutoring me when I didn't understand any of our school work? You've given me the world, and I– I just…”

He was painfully aware of his heart thumping on his chest.

“It hurts me seeing you act like you don't need someone to be all that for you. You can't go on like that forever. And I'm right here to treat all your wounds and take care of you when an injury gets too bad and–”

“Harry.”

The man froze, staring back at his friend, who only giggled quietly.

“Thank you,” Peter mumbled. “I'm.. glad you care so much.”

“Course I do,” Harry muttered. “You're my best friend.”

Peter bandaged a cut on his arm. “So you understand why I worry about you then.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“Har, I lost you for two years,” Peter stressed. “I know this is something you're excited about, and I'm glad you are. I just don't want it to lead to you leaving me again.”

Harry’s chest ached with warring emotions, that same fire that flared up every time Peter doubted his abilities, and a sickening guilt at the idea that his absence could've affected Peter that much. Why did that feel so wrong?

“Don't say that,” he grumbled. “I'm not your responsibility.”

“You are if you want to throw yourself into the same mess I did.”

“But that's my choice!” Harry spat. “I'm the one who was given a second chance at life, I'm the one who's using that to give it back to others. If I'm not using what I have to help people, then why am I even still here?”

“Harry!” Peter suddenly grabbed Harry’s wrists, earning a gasp from the man. “Don't– Don't you ever say that! You're here because people love you, ok? We love you! You don't have to spend the rest of your life trying to make everyone else happy because you being here is enough. Tell me you understand that.”

Harry’s eyes met Peter's, recognizing the look of panic in his gaze. Like if he let go of Harry, the man would cease to exist. Like he couldn't live in a world without his best friend.

The guilt swallowed up any anger left in Harry. Now he just felt worn out.

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it.” He looked down. “Just wanna be useful, I guess.”

Peter tipped his face back up to look at him.

“You can start by not talking about yourself like that,” he spoke. “Hurts me too, you know.”

“Aw.” Harry managed to put in his best smile. “You're such a sap.”

“Am not!” Peter pulled his hand away.

“You sure act like one,” Harry teased.

“Well I– you– whatever!” Peter huffed. “Stay still.”

“Yes sir.” Harry rolled his eyes, letting Peter work on him.

It didn't show in his face, but Harry was cycling Peter's words through his head. Suddenly, thinking he and MJ were perfectly capable of moving on without him felt pretty shitty, but it just made sense, didn't it? They couldn't have known how long Harry would be away; the most logical solution would be to prepare for a life where he wasn't there, yet they clung to the hope that someday, he'd be in their grasp again. Why so much effort for him? The man who wasn't supposed to live very long up until a few months ago? The one who felt a twinge of jealousy towards two teenagers, because the messed up side of his brain seemed intent on convincing him that somehow, Peter could replace him entirely with people who weren't even a year into adulthood. That same man was the one his friends spent years waiting on, and he had no idea how to feel about it. What was wrong with him tonight?

He also couldn't ignore the way his skin tingled wherever Peter touched him. He wasn’t sure what that was about; neither Harry or Peter had ever been against physical contact. Peter had a habit of clinging to his arm in crowded spaces, too afraid of being separated from each other. In the comfort of their own homes, they were prone to leaning on each other, or playfully tackling one another, or just generally being close .

There was one night, a sleepover at Peter's house, where Harry unintentionally broke down in front of his friend. He hadn't meant to, but the stress of everything going on at home had finally boiled over. Maybe some part of him had expected Peter to be uncomfortable, or throw him off on May and Ben so he wouldn't have to deal with it. Instead, Peter guided Harry to his bed and held him tight, whispering soft words of comfort, rubbing his back, playing with his hair. For all the time his mother had been sick, that was the only moment where someone could convince him that things would be ok.

They'd ended up falling asleep like that, and neither had bothered to escape from the other when they woke up. It wasn't awkward, wasn't a moment that they silently agreed to never discuss again. It was just… normal.

Maybe he craved a moment like that again. Something in him was making him desperate to cling to Peter now.

He felt like he had no control over his next words as Peter finished patching him up. “Say. You're strong enough to pick me up, right?”

Peter froze, glancing at him. “I mean, I did it earlier?”

“Yeah, but like. Properly pick me up.”

“Oh. Probably… why?”

“Dunno. Maybe I busted my leg.” Harry slid off the counter and promptly, rather dramatically, fell into Peter's arms.

“Wh– Harry??” The slight panic on Peter's tone told Harry that he might have actually believed him, and wasn't that just the cutest?

“If only there was a hero who could help me out.” Harry brought the back of his hand to his forehead, sneaking a glance at Peter's whose concern swiftly melted away.

“Yeah. If only.” He let go of Harry, letting him drop for about half a second before grabbing onto him again. He grinned at the yelp he earned from his friend.

“Pete!” the man whined. “I'm fragile!”

“Sure you are. You big goof!” In the next moment, he scooped Harry off the ground entirely, in a motion so grand that Harry wrapped his arm's around Peter's neck for fear of being dropped. Peter couldn't help but laugh. “I thought you wanted to be picked up?”

“I did! I did,” Harry spoke, glancing around. “... you got strong, didn't you?”

“You're just now figuring that out?” Peter snickered.

“No! I just…” Harry looked down, biting the inside of his cheek. “Just making an observation.”

“Sure, buddy.” Peter carried Harry over to the couch, setting him down carefully. “Anything else my prince demands?” That damn smile on his face was addicting.

“Well I–” Harry was cut off when several tendrils appeared against his will, launching for Peter and yanking him closer. What. What.

“Ha– Harry!” Peter squeaked.

“Not me!” Harry snapped. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Peter, who was basically on top of him now. God.

The tendrils released their grip, retreating back into their host, leaving Harry and Peter alone with each other once more.

Peter was the first to break the silence, chuckling nervously. “Does that thing like me or something?”

He laid down, and Harry hoped he couldn't hear how quickly his heart was racing.

“I… have no idea,” he sighed. “It likes to do its own thing a lot.”

“I think it likes me,” Peter said. “It always wants me close.”

“Uh huh…” Harry stared at the ceiling, letting his hands rest on Peter's back. This wasn't the worst.

Peter nuzzled his face further into Harry’s chest, letting out a drawn out sigh. “I missed you.” Not this again. “You know that?”

“I know..” Harry whispered.

“Wish I could just keep you here forever.”

Harry snorted. “Then what?”

Peter shrugged. “You never disappear again?”

“I'm flattered.” Harry patted his head gently. “Wouldn't you get tired of me?”

“How could I?”

The words got caught in Harry’s throat. “I– I dunno. Just seems kind of inevitable.”

“Would you get tired of me?” Peter looked up.

“Now that's just not fair,” Harry retorted. “You know I couldn't.”

“Well.” Peter flashed him a grin. “Neither could I.”

“Yeah yeah.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

Silence fell over them for another long while.

“I did do good out there though, right?” Harry looked down at Peter again. “You can't deny that.”

“It was alright for your first solo mission,” Peter giggled. “Just promise me something?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't try to handle something alone like that again.”

Harry couldn't form a response.

“At least not yet,” Peter added. “Not until you've had more time. What you did today was brave, but it was also dangerous. Who knows what could've happened if I didn't show up?”

I would've finished the job myself, that's what. Did Peter seriously believe he was the reason the hunters were successfully taken out? Harry was doing fine! So what if he got a little scratched up? He would've been ok on his own!

A million different retorts and arguments ran through his head at once, but they were all being drowned out by one single thought: That he was tired, and he didn't want to sour this moment with Peter, and maybe there was some logic to his proposal. Harry hadn't been at this for very long; he'd only been in one proper fight, and most of his skills came from teaching himself in his room. Peter wasn't asking him to stop , just… to stay by his side. Wasn't that what Harry had wanted?

“... yeah. Ok. I'll wait for you, then,” he sighed, hating how his heart skipped a beat at the way Peter lit up.

“Thank you.” He held onto Harry tighter. “Knew I could count on you.”

“Uh huh.” Harry couldn't look at him. “Won't let you down.”

And he didn't have any intention of it. He just wondered how long it would take for Peter to let up a little.

❂┉❂┉❂

The first beams of sunshine were bleeding through the windows. Harry wasn't sure when exactly he'd fallen asleep. He just remembered Peter had been with him.

… and still was with him.

His friend was oddly adorable like this. Peter especially needed the rest, with how much he was always on his feet. Harry wouldn't mind staying like this for a while longer, and he was almost intent on it.

Though there was one problem.

They were still in their office. At the Foundation. Where anyone wandering around could catch them.

Harry’s eyes shot open once more. He reached to gently shake Peter.

“Dude. Hey. Peter.” He watched as Peter began to shift. “C'mon, get up.”

“Whh..?” Peter tried to blink sleep from his eyes.

“We need to go.” Harry’s voice was urgent. “We're still at the Foundation.”

Peter took a moment to look around, the realization becoming more and more evident on his face.

“Shit–” He scrambled up to his feet. “What time is it??”

“Uhh.” Harry glanced at the windows on the ceiling again. “Probably still early? No one's here…”

Peter checked his phone. “6:20.” He sighed. “Good thing you woke up when you did… Not sure how we'd explain to anyone what we were doing here.”

“Right…” Frankly, Harry didn't care about anyone else's reactions; his primary concern was his father walking in on them again.

His suit had covered him by the time he was on his feet, and he'd almost made it to the door, when–

“Wait.” Harry turned as Peter spoke up.

“Hm?”

“I–” Peter seemed to stumble over his words. What was that about? “Get home safe.”

Harry blinked. “Yeah,” he nodded. “You too.”

He was certain that was the fastest he'd ever moved to escape a place, though he wasn't sure what he was escaping from. Peter? That seemed silly.

His stomach fluttered as he swung back to the penthouse. He chose to believe the fast motion was just a little too much for his barely awake body this morning. He wasn't sure if he was ok with it being anything else.

Chapter Text

In the days that followed Harry’s battle with the hunters, he found himself growing a little stronger with each new lesson he was taught. He became more swift like Miles, was better at taking Phin's heavier attacks, and through Peter, learned several new tricks and strategies he wouldn't have been able to know otherwise. And every day that passed, the more confident he felt in himself. The more confident he felt that he could make Peter proud. That was what part of this was about, wasn't it? He could have the entire world's approval, but something about it would feel wrong if Peter wasn't there to back him up.

God. Peter was on his mind a little too much lately. Sure, his friends were always on his mind. He loved them, after all. But Peter was different. Peter managed to find his way into each and every one of Harry’s thoughts. Peter was always the one his mind ended up drifting to whenever Harry zoned out. It was like the guy was haunting him.

Harry didn't know what to think of it, really. He wasn't sure if it meant anything. Maybe he was just glad to have Peter back. But then, why didn't he think of MJ the same way? Why wasn't she occupying his thoughts as much as Peter?

Because Peter is special. Peter isn't like anyone else. Peter may as well be the most important person in my life.

Sometimes he felt like he wasn't in control of his own thoughts. His mind would just say things that he'd curse himself for agreeing with.

He wasn't so sure he'd call Peter the most important; that made him feel like he valued Peter more than anyone else, which wasn't true. But Peter was definitely special, in some way.

He was there for me the most in high school. He made sure I passed all my classes, he housed me when home started to feel unsafe. He did everything for me. Shouldn't that justify him being the one I always think about first?

But why only now? Why wasn't I having these thoughts before? Or was I always, and maybe having him back after so long made it worse?

Why shouldn't Peter be on my mind at every waking moment?

Why is it happening at all?

The man shook his head. No more talking to himself, it just made him dizzy.

He was waiting on a rooftop for Peter. More training, probably just a simple sparring exercise. He still yearned for something more exciting, but… Peter still seemed anxious about it. Harry supposed he was willing to understand. He hadn't shaken Peter's words the other night from his head; about being afraid to lose him again. He just wished it was easier to properly wrap his head around. For him, it was only a few months without Peter. For Peter, it was two years. That much time had clearly affected him.

Harry glanced over as Peter landed behind him, forcing himself to straighten up. Now wasn't the time to dwell on his own emotions; there was more he needed to learn if he ever wanted Peter to trust him with a job like this.

“See you got here early.” Peter made his way over to Harry.

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged. “Are the others coming?”

“They're both busy, so it's just you and me today,” Peter explained. Harry didn't like the way his heart leaped at that.

He cleared his throat. “Sweet. Watcha got planned then?”

“A simple endurance test for today,” Peter spoke. “See how long you can go before getting tired. You've been getting better and better at staying up for longer.”

Something in him fluttered, as it always did when Peter complimented him. Focus.

“Sounds fun.” Harry circled his friend. “Don't expect me to go easy on you, though.”

“Wait–” Peter kept his eyes on Harry. “Don't you wanna warm up first?”

“Don't need it!” Harry boosted himself into the air and landed a kick to Peter's chest, knocking him down. Peter swiftly rolled over into a crouch, his visors narrowing. 

“Watch it!” he yelped.

“Told you I wasn't going easy!”

“I'm testing you,” Peter reminded him. “Not the other way around!”

“Then act like it!” Harry taunted. “Come on, try and knock me down.”

Somehow, he heard a low chuckle escape Peter's lips, before the man lunged. Harry swerved to the side, his arms raised, ready to block whatever Peter threw at him.

He was managing to hold his own, and he found a wild satisfaction in that. Every moment that Peter doubted him only served to fuel him more, and while it may not have been the healthiest strategy, it definitely kept him on his feet. Try pretending I'm too weak to handle myself now. I practically have you beat already!

There was no animosity in either of their moves, though. In fact, Peter seemed to be having fun? Harry couldn't blame him. If anyone was going to be pushing him to his absolute limits, forcing him to work harder and harder, he was glad it was his best friend. How lucky the two of them were, to share such a unique life together. Only few others got the opportunity to fight battles alongside those they loved the most: an equal freedom that strengthened their bond far beyond any boundaries they could've imagined. This was their experience together, and only theirs.

In the cloud of his own thoughts, Harry failed to realize Peter raising his leg to kick into Harry’s stomach, successfully knocking him over (and knocking the wind out of him briefly).

“Shit!” Peter hissed. “Are you alright? I didn't mean to hit that hard!”

Never better. What was wrong with him?

“Yeah. Yeah. All good,” Harry wheezed, rolling over.

“You don't sound good,” Peter fretted. “We can take a break. That's probably a good idea. You must be tired out anyway. That was the longest you've stayed up, you know.”

Geez. For a moment, Harry wondered if Peter was here to train him or babysit him. Did he ever know when to stop worrying?

In the few seconds Peter had taken his eyes off Harry, that gave the man enough time to push himself to his feet, then tackle Peter over. He held Peter's wrists down and pressed his knee to the man's chest to ensure he couldn't get up.

Peter stared up at him, breathless. The sight brought a grin to Harry’s face that he was thankful his mask hid.

“Thought you weren't supposed to lose focus on the enemy,” he teased. “They can overpower you pretty easily.”

“... right. Yeah. Good– Good one.” Peter attempted to sit up, but Harry only tightened his grip.

“So, think I passed your test, then?” he pressed.

“Definitely.”

“And you admit I know what I'm doing, and you don't have to stress over me?”

“Can I get up now?”

“Come on.” Harry leaned a little closer to Peter's face. “I wanna hear it. Not like you've got a choice right now.”

“I…”

Something crashed below them. The two looked up.

Harry scrambled back to his feet, reaching to help Peter up. The two peered over the edge of the rooftop, scanning the alleyway. Beneath them was what seemed like a group of crooks, covered head to toe and trying to break through a door on one of the nearby buildings. They weren't doing a very good job of it.

“Huh.” Harry crossed his arms. “They basically served themselves right to us, didn't they?”

“Seems that way,” Peter nodded. “Think you're up to this one?”

Harry lit up. “You know I am!”

“Good. Follow me.” Peter zipped down, landing on a wall. The sound alerted the criminals, who turned to face him.

“It's the bug!” one of them shouted.

“Get him!”

One of them aimed their gun at Peter, but it was quickly snatched up by a dark tendril. Harry leapt into the middle of the group, tossing the gun back at the guy's head and knocking him over with the force of it.

Peter failed to squash back the smile on his face. All those lessons had clearly paid off. He jumped off the wall to join his friend.

Harry found the task rather simple. These people weren't anything to worry about; just the average robbers, so Harry didn't have to exhaust too much of his energy. Just needed to stay on his feet and hope Peter was looking.

The fight hadn't gone on very long when one of the crooks yelled, “Get the car!” to two of the others, who quickly ran off towards the street. From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted Peter rushing after them. A split second later, one man slid his bat beneath Harry’s chin, holding each end in an attempt to choke him. Funny that he thought it would do anything, though Harry still struggled for a moment to break free

Peter almost had the runaways in his grasp when he heard a familiar click behind him. He glanced back and spotted someone picking up the gun that had been dropped, aiming it directly at Harry, who was being held in place.

His heart skipped a beat. He leapt back toward them and kicked the man with the gun down, then webbed the bat away from the other guy, allowing Harry to jab his elbow into his face. He panted, rubbing at his neck for a moment, before facing Peter.

“What are you–”

“Are you hurt??” He was at Harry's side in an instant.

“No, of course not!” Harry yelped. “What are you doing?? I thought you were stopping the others!”

“That guy was gonna shoot you!” Peter motioned to the man still crumpled against the wall. “I had to stop him!”

Harry blinked, bewildered. “He can't–”

The screech of tires drew their attention up ahead to the car rapidly approaching them. Harry grasped Peter by the arm and slingshotted themselves upwards. The two crashed clumsily against another rooftop.

Harry only allowed himself a moment to breathe before scrambling to the side of the building, watching as the group scurried into their car. He growled to himself and looked back at Peter.

“Come on!” he snapped. “They're getting away!”

Peter pushed himself up with a grunt, running to Harry’s side.

The car had already sped off, but it didn't take long to catch up to them. Harry realized quite painfully that he was nowhere near as good at swinging as Peter was, much less in an active chase. He kept moving though; couldn't let Peter down. Couldn't give him anymore reason to think he wasn't ready.

He spotted one of the men leaning out the window of the car, gun in hand. He shot wildly at the two, sending them both swerving around to try and dodge the bullets flying by.

“Careful, Harry!” Peter called. “Don't let them hit you!”

“I know that!” Harry snapped. “Pay attention!”

Peter turned back to the car, only for one of the bullets to zip through his web, snapping it instantly.

“PETE!” Harry didn't waste a second diving for him, catching him midair. Hardly looking where he was going, he swung until another alley, losing grip and tumbling harshly alongside Peter.

It took him much longer to come back to his senses, and when he did, he realized Peter was laid out on top of him. Swiftly, but carefully, he moved his friend over so he could sit up and check him.

“Are you alright? Did you get hit?” His tone was serious as he searched Peter for injuries.

“No, no.” Peter gently waved him off. “It was my web. They hit my web.”

Harry sighed with relief. “At least it wasn't you…” He didn't have time to dwell though as he realized the car was getting away. He jumped to his feet and hurried up the side of the building closest to them.

“Wait!” Peter followed suit.

Harry was already scanning the area around them by the time Peter made it to the roof. He stayed put as he watched Harry let out a huff of frustration.

“We lost them!” he spat.

“It's ok!” Peter spoke up. “We can find them again. I'll get a report any minute now.”

Yeah. You'll get it. I'm just supposed to stand by and wait for you, cause I'm not allowed to know anything. Harry glared at the ground.

“Why didn't you just stop them from getting their car?” He turned on Peter. “You practically had them! Why'd you come back?”

“Did you not hear me earlier?” Peter retorted. “You almost got shot!”

Harry shook his head. “The suit's bullet proof, Pete.”

“It's–” Peter paused. “How do you know that?”

“Found it out.”

“How?”

“By accident!”

“Har.” The stress in Peter's voice was so obnoxious. “You realize how dangerous that is?”

“It's not like I jumped in front of the gun, ok?” Harry rolled his eyes. “And I've heard enough about danger. I know it's dangerous because that's all you ever tell me.”

“Because I'm right…” Peter grumbled. “Look. We can still stop them, and that's exactly what we're gonna do.”

“You go ahead,” Harry sighed.

“Got it.” Peter nodded, before freezing. “Wait– Are you sure?”

Harry held back a bitter chuckle. Peter was so eager to leave him behind, wasn't he?

“Yeah. Suit needs to… recharge.” Liar. Harry knew that, but at least Peter wouldn't question him. He didn't want to be a distraction again, after all. “Maybe I'll meet up with you later.”

“Alright..” Peter stepped back. “I'll see you, then.”

He swung off, leaving Harry to fester in his own irritation. When he tried to handle a mission alone, Peter got mad at him, but when they worked together, Peter coddled him, to the point that he’d let a gang of criminals get away. What would it take for him to finally ease up a notch?

Like a gun could hurt me. Did he need extra armor for Peter to be satisfied?

Harry perked up.

He knew someone who could do that for him.

Chapter Text

It was a little tricky to find the repair shop in the evening–wasn't like it had any lights that stuck out. But sure enough, Harry came across the run down building. The place was boarded up, seemed like no one had been here in years. Maybe Phin wanted it to look that way so no one would snoop around her stuff. Smart kid.

He spotted only one window that wasn't blocked; his ticket inside. He jumped down to it and gently lifted it up, thankfully the window was unlocked, allowing him to slip through.

It occurred to him as he landed that he wasn't actually sure if Phin was here. For all he knew, she could've been at home right now. But it was worth a shot, wasn't it? Definitely better to come here than to try and track her down.

He let his suit disappear, treading through the dark room carefully. Dust attacked his throat and forced a few coughs out of him. When was the last time anyone aside from her had been here?

Looking around, the place didn't seem like much of a lab at all. No equipment anywhere, just… stuff. Various things he was certain Junebug had no use for. It had been a shop at one point. Perhaps the lab was in the back?

“Phin?” he called out, voice hushed as to not frighten her, or alert anyone outside that someone was here. “It's me, Harry. I just– needed to see you about something.” He bumped into a table. This place was hard to navigate. “If you're busy, I can come back another time! Or… if you're not here, and I'm talking to myself–”

“Osborn.”

Harry shrieked louder than he would've liked to admit, stumbling back into the table. He looked up to find the silhouette of Phin standing in front of him. He could vaguely make out that her arms were crossed.

“God,” he breathed. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Phin snorted. “You're in my lab.”

Harry blinked, mentally smacking himself. “Right…” The man swiftly straightened up. “I, um. I was hoping I'd find you here.”

“Because…?”

“I'm wondering if there's any of your tech I could use..? Like– armor, maybe?”

Phin seemed to stare at him for a long while, before shifting. “Why?” She sounded uncomfortable. For a brief moment, Harry considered just dropping the whole thing and walking out.

“Just– extra protection,” he explained.

“You don't need it,” she cut in. “For one, it wouldn't work with your suit. It's not the right surface, and it would just be awkward to work with. Second, your suit's already bladeproof, and probably bulletproof. What more protection do you need?”

“It's…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno. To make Peter happy?”

“What.”

“Cause he always thinks I'm gonna get hurt!” Harry spoke. “Even when I'm handling myself fine, he still acts like it's the end of the world. So, I guess if I give him less reason to worry, then… he won't?”

He heard Phin hum, before stepping back. “C'mon,” she told him, walking off down the hall. Harry thought better than to question it, following after her.

In the back area of the shop was a door that was left ajar, indigo light seeping through. She nudged it open, leading Harry into the neon, almost futuristic room.

“Woah.” His eyes were wide. “This is where you work?”

“Yup.” She had a proud grin on her face. “Set it all up myself.”

“It's really cool,” he commented.

“Much appreciated.” She wandered over to a microwave sitting on a nearby table and opened it, pulling out a cup she must've already been warming. Smelled like chocolate milk. “Now, tell me more about what's up with Peter.”

“Oh– just…” He sighed. “He treats me like a child sometimes! Always worrying. Feels like he doesn't even want me doing any of this. Like it's his choice…”

“Why wouldn't he?” Phin sat up on the counter and grabbed a spoon resting on a napkin, beginning to stir her drink.

“Well, it's complicated.” Harry shifted, unsure how to explain. “I– went away for a long time. Two years. Now he's afraid of losing me again, which I guess I understand? I just wish he wasn't such a mother hen about it. I'm a grown man!”

“Have you told him to stop?”

“I tell him I don't need him to coddle me,” Harry continued. “I tell him my suit is resistant to just about anything, and he still freaks out anytime someone swings a blade at me or points a gun at me. I tell him I'm capable of fighting by myself, but he gets mad at me when I try, even if I'm doing fine! And when I try to show him that I know what I'm doing, he gets so distracted trying to babysit me that he goes and messes things up!”

Phin looked up. “When did that happen?”

“Earlier today,” he muttered. “It was just some guys trying to break into a shop. Two of them left to get their car so they could escape, and Peter followed them, but then he turned around cause he thought the others were gonna hurt me.” Frustration boiled in his chest at the memory. “They ended up getting away. We tried chasing them, but they started shooting at us, and Peter got caught up telling me not to get hit! Like I wouldn't already know that! They ended up shooting down his web, since he wasn't paying attention… We lost them after that. He left to find them again, but, I just stayed behind. “I didn't want to be the reason we let them go a second time.”

“So, he's not giving you a chance is what I'm hearing?”

Harry paused. “I guess. That's how it feels, anyway.”

Phin hummed, staring down into her drink. Her expression was unreadable.

“My brother was like that for a while,” she revealed. Harry perked up a bit. “Our parents died when I was young, so he was left to raise me. We didn't have any other family who could. He did his best, but boy was he paranoid. He got really weird about letting me out of his sight; stopped letting me walk home from school and kept me here whenever he was running the shop. He'd come up with a ton of excuses not to let me go out with my friends, unless it was Miles, since we were close with his family. But anyone else, he was never ok with.”

Harry glanced to his side, spotting a nearby stool. He grabbed it and carried it over to the counter so he could sit by her.

“Looking back, I get why he ended up that way. I didn't understand how badly losing our parents had affected him, and the last thing he wanted was to lose me too.” Then, Phin chuckled the smallest bit. “But you can imagine how annoying it was when I was little.”

“Yeah..” Harry smiled slightly.

“It got to a point where I snuck out one night,” Phin went on. “My friend was hosting a sleepover, and I really didn't want to miss it. Got there fine, and it was fun, but obviously my brother found out I was gone in the morning. He found out where I was and came to pick me up while we were still eating breakfast. We fought when we got back home… and he grounded me, and for little eleven year old me, it was the worst day of my life. Then… he eased up a bit after that.”

Harry tilted his head. “He did?”

“I think he realized I wouldn't have done it if he wasn't being so overbearing,” Phin shrugged. “Felt like I was suffocating being glued to his side, not allowed to go anywhere without him. I was desperate for freedom, and because he wouldn't let me have it, I thought the only way to get it was to sneak around him.”

“So… what. You break the rules once and he's suddenly ok with you doing what you want?” Harry questioned.

“Not really,” Phin shook her head. “It was more like, if he wasn't going to let me do the things I wanted to do, I was just gonna do them myself. Which was dangerous in that case. I mean, I was a little girl walking by myself to my friend's house at night. I'm lucky nothing happened to me. So, he got better about it. He'd get to know my friends’ families, so he felt better about me being at their houses. He let me go out as long as I kept him updated every hour or so. He didn't just start letting me do whatever I wanted, he just… compromised. He'd rather know what I was doing and where I was than have me going behind his back.”

Harry hummed. “Guess that makes sense.”

Phin leaned forward, facing Harry. “Now, in that kind of situation, I wouldn't encourage what I did. But, you're not a little kid, and Peter isn't your guardian. You say he's not happy no matter what you do. Why do you keep letting him boss you around, then? He's not in charge of you.”

“Well, part of why I'm doing any of this is for him,” Harry started. “I mean– I'm still in it to help people, and that's always gonna be my top priority. But I would never have gotten the idea to use… this–” He let an inky thread crawl around his arm, “–for any sort of vigilante stuff if I hadn't found out he was Spider-Man. I wouldn't know I could use it like this at all. Part of the thrill was getting to work alongside him, but he's just making it a hassle by acting like this. Which sucks, because I still want to do this, I just… want him to want it as well. I wanted to impress him.”

Phin gave Harry a look. “Impress him?”

“Yeah, I–” Harry cleared his throat. “Y'know? He's my best friend. I wanted to make him proud. When we were in high school, we got picked on a lot. I got in a lot of fights for him, and I always got my ass kicked.” He chuckled weakly. “Thought maybe he'd like it if he saw how skilled I was now.”

Silence hung over them for a moment.

“Don’t you feel that way with Miles?”

Phin sipped her drink slowly, keeping her eyes on him. “... sure.”

“Obviously it's not working the way I wanted,” Harry grumbled to himself. “Seems like nothing I do can impress him! Just scares him.”

“Then don't try to fight for his approval.”

“But I want it!” Harry emphasized. “I wanted to fight alongside him! I wanted it to be something special for us! We've been apart forever, and I just– I missed him! I missed being with him, and doing things with him. I missed… feeling like the most important person to him.”

Phin watched him with a curious expression.

“And now I've been gone for two years, and I keep wondering to myself if he even needs me like that anymore. I mean, I know he does. He wouldn't be acting this way if he didn't. But… I guess I want to be sure. I thought being a hero with him would bring us as close as we used to be, but, guess not.”

“Why do you want to be the most important?” Phin pressed.

Harry straightened. “Oh, I– I didn't mean– I want to replace you or Miles–”

“Nonono. Not what I meant.” Phin waved him off. “I'm not talking about us, I'm talking about you. What makes him so special that you want him to value you the most?”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, then closed it briefly. What wasn't special about Peter? He was his best friend, his rock through their teenage years. Where would he be without him?

“I mean, he's everything to me,” Harry shrugged. “He's kind and sweet, and he's strong. Real strong.”

Phin sipped her hot chocolate again, mainly to hide the grin forming on her face.

“He was there for me through everything. He tutored me when my grades were dropping, and when– … when it got difficult being at home, he'd let me stay at his place, and when I was with him, it felt like maybe things would be ok.”

“Mmmhm.”

“I just– Pete's always been the most important person to me! I can't live without him! So if he could live without me, then… then I don't know what I'd do.”

“And why's that?” Phin kicked her feet.

Harry blinked, staring at her. “Weren't you listening to me?? It's cause I love him!”

“Do you?” Why the hell was Phin smirking at him?

“Of course I do!” Harry snapped, standing up. “I love everything about him! He is everything. My everything! Without him, I– I…”

His face suddenly felt hot. “He's…”

Phin began to snicker. Harry glanced at her.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” She giggled.

“Stop– laughing! It's not funny!” Harry hissed.

“It's a little funny,” she beamed. “I mean, Peter? Of all guys?”

“Shut up!” He stormed off to the other side of the room.

“Just saying!” Phin sang, though Harry had already tuned her out. Did this explain all the strange feelings he'd been having about Peter lately? The butterflies whenever he touched him, the desperation for Peter to be impressed by him? The way he kept crawling back after the several times Peter got on his nerves…?

He wanted to convince himself that everyone felt that way about their close friends, that it was normal. But there was a problem with that, wasn't there? He'd never had the same thoughts about MJ, and she'd been with him for as long as Peter. He did love her, she was like a bright star in an otherwise desolate night sky, but she was someone Harry could confidently say he loved as a friend.

Peter was different, and he mentally scolded himself for taking this long to realize it. It was no wonder he stressed over how much Peter valued him. Anyone would think that way over the person they were in love with.

He took a breath, glancing back at Phin. “So, what? What do I do then? Am I supposed to tell him?”

“Oh don't do that,” Phin shut him down. “Not when he's still being an ass to you.”

Harry stared at her. “Wh–”

“Look, it's cool if you like him, but you still gotta put yourself first. He's not acknowledging your feelings even after you've told him to stop. He clearly thinks he knows best here, and all it's doing is hurting you.”

Harry watched her, taking her words in. She sounded like she'd given this talk several times before (and probably had).

“Ok, so I don't say anything,” he replied. “Then how do I get him off my back?”

“Think you're just gonna have to be ok with going against his wishes,” Phin spoke. “He's unwilling to give you a chance, so don't let him dictate your life. He's not your boss or your dad.

“Right…” Harry wasn't so sure about intentionally pissing Peter off, but, the guy had been getting on his nerves for some time now. Perhaps just this once, it was warranted.

“And sooner or later, he's just gonna have to learn to be ok with it,” Phin added. “Once you show him you can handle yourself without needing his approval. Then after that, you can tell him whatever you want. Not my business at that point.”

Harry hummed to himself. “And, if he doesn't stop?”

Phin shrugged. “Then maybe he's not the right guy for you. But that's only for you to decide.”

Harry averted his gaze. Peter could definitely be stubborn, but Harry knew he had it in him to be understanding. He trusted his best friend enough to come around eventually, he just needed to give him a reason to.

He chuckled softly. “Glad I came to you then, huh? I probably wouldn't have figured all this out otherwise… not this fast, anyway.”

“Honestly shocking,” Phin commented, sipping her drink. “I just guessed it a while ago. You're painfully unsubtle.”

Harry blinked. “What??”

“What?”