Harry
Pete had been acting strange lately. He had been super busy and distant for the past couple of weeks, almost a month now. But Harry tried to be patient with him. It was probably just everything that had happened with his uncle. Uncle Ben was like a father to Peter- no, scratch that. He was a father to Peter, had been for several years. If it had been Harry’s dad…
So Harry had tried to be patient with him. He tried to give Peter time and space, but when Harry had walked in to Peter trying not to scream as he poured disinfectant all over some cuts on his stomach, Harry decided that maybe it was time to ask questions.
“Pete!” Harry exclaimed, and Peter’s head jerked up, startled by the sudden voice. Peter sat on one of the desks in the Horizon High shared lab space, his hoodie and shirt off. He had gauze and bandages on the table next to him, and he had a bottle of disinfectant in his hand. Oh, and of course, there were three deep cuts stretching across his stomach, still bleeding and now bubbling as the disinfectant did its job.
Harry sprinted over, and he stopped in front of Peter, examining the cuts in confusion and a little fear as Peter gritted his teeth hard as the disinfectant no doubt burned in the wounds.
“Pete, what happened?” Harry asked.
Peter tried to smile, but with him gritting his teeth in pain, it didn’t have the comforting effect he probably intended for it to have.
“Aleksi,” Peter said, but Peter wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. Normally, that would be a way for Harry to tell that Peter was lying, but with the pain Peter was no doubt in, it was hard to tell if Peter’s refusal to look Harry in the eyes was because he was lying or because he didn’t want Harry to see the pain on his face. “I got scratched by some of the debris. It isn’t that bad.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asked, feeling oddly (maybe even selfishly) betrayed. “You helped with Aleksi and you went to find Gwen and all that time, you were hurt?”
“I didn’t want Aleksi to feel bad,” Peter answered. “It wasn’t his fault. And I didn’t want you guys to worry. It’s just a scratch.”
Harry blinked, looking at the blood dripping from the cuts. The disinfectant had finished cleaning the wounds, so it had stopped bubbling, but the bleeding had yet to stop. The only good thing about that was that the bleeding seemed to be slowing. But the fact that it had yet to stop after at least an hour was a little scary.
Okay, more than a little scary.
“That’s more than ‘just a scratch,’ Pete,” Harry said.
“All I have to do is bandage it, and I’ll be okay,” Peter assured him. “It’s not deep enough to need stitches, and I’m not gushing blood or anything.”
Harry sighed. “Okay, fine, I won’t get the paramedics or anything. Just… let me help you. You shouldn’t have to bandage your own injury.”
Peter smiled. “Thanks, Harry.”
Harry picked up some of the gauze, and he gently started to dab at the area around the wound, cleaning up any traces of blood and disinfectant.
“Harry?”
“Yeah, Pete?” Harry looked up from the cuts, and he only now realized how close they were. Their faces were less than six inches apart, and Harry felt his heartbeat flutter, but he squashed the feelings down. You don’t just get those feelings when you’re helping your best friend take care of the three cuts on his stomach.
“Why aren’t you staying at Horizon High?”
The topic thankfully helped to distract Harry from his feelings as he focused again on cleaning the wounds.
Harry bit his lip, torn between feeling annoyed and feeling guilty at the confusion and maybe even betrayal in Peter’s voice.
“I just… my dad-“ Harry started, unsure of how to say what he needed to say.
How he wouldn’t be able to look his dad in the eye if he went back to Horizon after everything his father had done for him. How his father’s disappointment would surely suffocate him, never spoken but always there, crawling across his skin and making Harry feel like he was drowning.
No. He couldn’t leave Oz Academy. Even if he wanted to… which he didn’t.
Right?
“Harry, do you really want to stay at Oz Academy?” Peter asked.
Harry started to wrap the gauze around Peter’s midsection, and he chose to focus on that instead of on his own doubts.
“My dad-“ Harry said again.
“Harry,” Peter said, and he paused until Harry looked up at him. Peter stared at him, analyzing Harry like he was staring into his soul. Harry resisted the urge to fidget under Peter’s gaze.
His best friend could always see right through him. His dad would’ve said that was a weakness.
“Is this what you want?” Peter asked.
Harry swallowed as he finished up bandaging Peter’s injuries, tying off the bandages around Peter’s midsection.
Was it what he wanted?
He thought of Anya and Miles and Gwen and Max and how much he would miss them. He thought of the cold, detached demeanor of the other Oz Academy students. Oz Academy focused on individual work, only sometimes using lab partners. Horizon High encouraged collaboration and team work, and Harry missed it, missed that sense of connection and friendship he had at Horizon High.
But he also thought of his dad’s proud smile and the way he would place his hand on Harry’s shoulder, like a more professional pat on the back. Harry thought of how happy that made him, how it felt a little less like he was drowning. He thought of his dad practically begging for him to stay.
“Harry, I’m asking you, as your father, please stay.”
How could Harry live with himself- or even more so, with his father- if he went back to Horizon High?
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” Harry decided, and he told himself it was true.
Peter stared at him for another moment before he smiled.
“Then, I support you, 100%,” Peter said as he held out of his fist.
Harry smiled back at him. “Thanks, Pete,” Harry said as they fist bumped.
Harry sat on the desk next to Peter, who was putting his shirt and hoodie back on.
“You know, Pete…” Harry said, his eyes lingering on the bandages before they disappeared beneath Peter’s shirt. “You can always talk to me. About anything. And if you ever get hurt like that again- and there better not be a second time- you can always come to me. I’ve got your back. Always.”
Peter stared into his eyes for another moment before he looked away, staring at the floor like it was becoming increasingly interesting. He seemed to be considering something. He was pursing his lips and tapping his foot nervously.
Peter finally turned back to Harry. “Harry, I… I have to tell you something.”
Harry tilted his head slightly, a nonverbal signal for Peter to continue.
Peter bit his lip, and then, he opened his mouth. “I’m-“
“What’s going on?”
They both turned, and Harry almost throttled Miles, who was standing in the doorway awkwardly, as if he had just realized he was interrupting something.
“Oh, um, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Miles said.
Peter almost seemed relieved, and Harry knew it was going to be even harder to get Peter to tell him what was going on now.
“No problem, Miles,” Peter said. “What’s up?”
“Oh, uh,” Miles still appeared very awkward. “Gwen’s back. Apparently, her uncle was the one who turned Aleksi into a rhino, and he was the Jackal.”
Whatever was going on with Peter momentarily forgotten, Harry’s eyes widened. “Professor Raymond Warren?”
Miles nodded. “Yep.”
“Wow, crazy,” Peter said, and if Harry had been less shocked, he might’ve noticed that Peter didn’t seem very surprised. “How’s Gwen doing?”
Miles shrugged. “About as well as can be expected,” Miles said.
“I better go talk to her,” Peter decided, and Harry resisted the urge to smile. Peter Parker, always with his caring nature. The one who took a chance on Harry Osborn and became friends with Harry based on who he was instead of on his last name. The one who chose to treat his own injury rather than risk upsetting the person who-unwillingly- gave him the injury in the first place.
Peter was almost at the door when he suddenly turned back, and he smiled at Harry.
There wasn’t a concrete scientific explanation for “butterflies in the stomach,” but the scientific side of Harry couldn’t deny the correlation between him experiencing the fluttery feeling in his stomach whenever he saw Peter smile.
“Thanks, Harry. For everything,” Peter said, and Harry smiled, feeling a little tongue tied. He didn’t trust himself not to stammer, so he settled for:
“Anytime, Pete.”
Peter walked out of the room, and Miles chuckled.
“If you blush any brighter, you might catch on fire,” Miles said.
Harry glared at him, and Miles laughed, throwing his hands up in the air in ‘no harm’ kind of gesture.
“Hey, just saying,” Miles said.
Harry threw the roll of bandages at him, and Miles left the room, still laughing.