saudade

The last thing Harry could remember as he woke up was that he had visited his father, but he couldn’t remember why. He woke up in a bed at a place he didn’t know. He panicked as he saw two men approaching him so he jumped on his feet and ran as fast as he could.

What the hell has happened? Why was he with two men he had never seen before? And why couldn’t he remember anything after his visit at his old home? Something must have happened to his father too, so he decided to check on him on his way back home.

Norman Osborn put himself into an unhealthy amount of work – to Harry’s sorrow it has always been like that – but lately, it increased rapidly. Once, Harry had found his father lying unconscious on the floor which is why he worried so much about him. Especially now that he couldn’t remember anything of what happened. He dug out his key and opened the door to the mansion he grew up in. Even though he grew up here, it never felt like home to him.

Everything was dark so he assumed that Bernard was already gone. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help himself but having the feeling something was wrong. Usually, the light was turned on or at least some candles were lit. His heart was banging inside his chest as he went upstairs.

Harry opened the door to the living room. Spider-Man stood next to his father who lied motionless on the sofa. At first, he didn’t understand what he saw but then he connected the dots. “What have you done?”, he shouted, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Harry picked up the gun from the small table next to him and aimed it at Spider-Man. The next moment, Spider-Man was gone.

Harry dropped the gun and ran to his father.

“No…”

His worst fear was confirmed. His father was dead. No, he wasn’t just dead. He was murdered. Harry climbed onto the sofa and embraced his father’s body, tears streaming down his face. He rocked slowly back and forth.

“Dad”, he sobbed and stroked his hair gently. There was so much Harry would have wanted to tell his father. He wanted to tell him he was sorry for being such a complicated child, for disappointing him so often. “I always wanted to make you proud. I love you so much.”

Harry let out a cry. It was a cry of pain and anger. He was angry at himself for not being there for his father when he needed him. He was craving for his father’s attention so much that he didn’t notice when his father needed his attention.

Harry placed a soft kiss on his father’s forehead. “Thank you for everything.”

There was a knock on the door. Bernard entered the room and turned on the light. Then he saw Harry.

“Sorry, I’ve only came back because I forgot … No, don’t tell me he is-”, the butler couldn’t finish his sentence. He walked towards Harry and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Oh boy, I am sorry.”

“I should have visited him more often”, Harry sobbed.

Bernard pulled him into a hug and placed a kiss on his hair. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Harry. Don’t blame yourself.” He went to a table. “I will call a doctor to let him confirm his death so he can be prepared for the funeral, is that all right?”

No, it wasn’t. Harry wasn’t ready to let go of his father, but he knew it was the right thing to do so he nodded.

When the doctor arrived, Harry still held his father’s hand. If he let him go, he would fall into a never-ending abyss. He didn’t really notice what happened around him or what the doctor was doing. All that mattered were him and his father. Bernard managed the formalities with the doctor.

However, the arrival of the undertaker was a lot worse.

“Harry, you have to let him go”, Bernard said quietly but Harry clasped his father’s hand even more tightly.

Harry shook his head. “No.”

“Mr. Osborn, I know this is hard for you, but you have to let go of him”, the undertaker told him politely.

Harry didn’t react. No one could make him ever leave his father again.

Bernard tried to loosen Harry’s grip on Norman’s hand which made Harry so furious that he lashed around with his other hand. The undertaker tried to help Bernard and together they pulled Harry away from his father. “No!”, Harry screamed while he sobbed uncontrollably and tried to fight back. He hit and kicked around him, desperately trying to get back to his father.

The undertaker’s co-workers carried his father away and Harry’s body gradually calmed down. They let go of him and he fell to the ground.

“My condolences. Will you visit our funeral home tomorrow so we can speak about your father’s last rest?”, the undertaker asked as he helped him to get up.

Harry didn’t answer. Bernard should manage all that stuff. He didn’t care. He would never care about anything ever again.

When they were alone again, Bernard made Harry a cup of tea so he could calm down a bit. “I’ll always be there for you, Harry”, he said and wrapped a blanket around Harry who was sitting on the sofa, the cup of tea in one hand and stared emotionlessly into the void. Bernard sighed. Harry was like a son to him and that he couldn’t do anything to ease his pain made him feel helpless.

“I can’t stay with you, I’m sorry, but I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Do you want to call Peter?” The butler knew very well that Harry’s feelings towards Peter weren’t just amicable so he hoped Peter would find a way to comfort Harry.

Harry nodded and that was his first motion for over an hour. If he could tolerate one person to be around him, it was Peter. Bernard handed him the telephone and his fingers automatically dialed Peter’s number.

“Parker?”, Peter said.

“Pete?”, Harry’s voice was shaking as he spoke.

“Harry? What happened?” Peter’s voice sounded worried.

“Would you come over?”

“Of course, I’ll be there in a few minutes”, Peter promised and hung up.

When Peter arrived at the Osborn mansion, he was received by Bernard.

“Thank you for coming, Peter. Harry needs you. He is in a really bad condition, and I’m scared he won’t get over it, so you are my last hope”, Bernard said.

Peter’s insides cramped. What had he done? He cleared his throat. “But what happened? He didn’t want to tell me.”

“His father died. Harry found his body lying on the sofa. It was horrible to see him like that.”

“What? Oh no, I’m so sorry. Where is Harry?” He was afraid of seeing his boyfriend. He was afraid of seeing what he was responsible for.

“He’s in the living room. I made him a cup of tea to calm him down, but I fear only sedatives will calm him down. I have to go now but I’ll be back in the morning.”

Peter nodded. “All right. Thank you for everything you did for him today.”

Bernard tried to smile and said goodbye before he left.

Peter went upstairs and he swallowed hard before he entered the living room, but Harry wasn’t there. “Harry?”, he called but then he found him standing on the balcony. “I’m so sorry.” He pulled him into a hug. “How long have you been standing here? You’re totally wet and cold!”

Harry didn’t know either for how long he has been standing in the rain, but he didn’t care. The weather conditions matched how he felt. Peter dragged him inside.

Peter went to the bathroom to get a towel and new, warm clothes for Harry because he didn’t want him to catch a cold. When he got back, Harry was still standing where he left him. Gently, he undressed him and put the fresh clothes on him.

Harry let him do so, but he didn’t really notice what Peter was doing anyway. The only thing he noticed was the picture of his father’s corpse that was playing in his head like a movie. He felt the need to throw up and his body started shaking.

“Harry, you should sit down”, he could Peter’s voice from a far distance.

An arm was wrapped around his waist, and someone helped him to sit down on the sofa next to him. He lost sense of reality. Tears rolled down his cheek. The person pulled him into his arms and stroked his back to comfort him.

“I’m here”, Peter whispered, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Harry got his senses back and snuggled up to Peter. He buried his face in Peter’s shoulder.

“It’s okay.” Peter gently stroked Harry’s hair and placed a kiss on it.

“Nothing is okay”, Harry sobbed, “If I had got here earlier, I could have saved him.” He knew it was the truth.

“Harry, don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault your father died, and you couldn’t have changed it. Don’t torture yourself”, Peter told him. Actually, it was his fault that Harry lost his father since he couldn’t save him from himself.

“But there is one major mistake I’ve made. I should have pulled the trigger and shot Spider Man as I had the chance. Now this murderer can roam free”, Harry spat, and the anger drove away the sadness.

Peter swallowed. Did Harry really think this way or was it just something he said because he was so upset? He wouldn’t kill somebody, would he? “You can’t think clearly at the moment, and I don’t blame you but killing is never an option. The police will find him and then he’ll get his punishment”, Peter said.

“Don’t you understand? I want him dead! And I want to do it myself. I want to look him in the eyes when I kill him such as my father looked in his as he killed him. And I’ll make it painful because that’s what he deserves.”

Peter wanted to tell Harry that he is Spider Man for so long but now it became clear he must never know. Otherwise, it would destroy Harry as well as himself. He still hoped that Harry’s thirst for revenge was due to his exceptional emotional state.

“Will you stay with me tonight? I don’t think I can be alone”, Harry said quietly.

If you knew who I am, I would be the last person you’d want to have around you, Peter thought. “Of course, I will. I will always be there for you if you need me.” And he meant it. It hurt him to see Harry suffer so much and he wanted to help him.

“I love you, Pete. You’re the only one I can trust.” Harry laid his head on Peter’s chest. Peter’s arms around him made him feel safe. They made him feel like nothing could hurt him.

“I love you too”, Peter said and played with Harry’s curls to comfort him. “You should try to rest. I know this is hard, but your body needs to rest. It was a very exhausting evening for you. I’m here and I won’t go.” He helped him to get up and they went to Harry’s bedroom.

They laid down cuddled under the blanket. Harry didn’t want to sleep. The fear of what he might see in his dreams was too big, but the regularity of Peter’s heartbeat made him drift into sleep.

Harry entered the living room. Everything was dark and he struggled to see something but as his eyes got used to the darkness, he saw someone jumping out of the window. His father lied on the sofa, eyes closed and not moving at all. At first, he thought he was sleeping but then Harry recognised his chest no longer rose or fell. His father had died.

“No, dad, wake up!” He shook his father’s body. “Wake up, please.” Tears streamed down his face. Now, Harry had lost the only family he ever had, and he got on his knees next to the sofa. He reached out for his father’s hand and gently put it into his.

“Harry”, his father said and opened his eyes. He looked at him like he always did when Harry had disappointed him – merciless, like he didn’t have a son and like Harry was just a burden someone else had caused him.

“Dad?”, Harry asked, his voice full of hope.

“This is all your fault. You could have stopped Spider Man if you were here, but you weren’t. You were never here when I needed you. You were too busy doing something where we both know you’ll fail it. Didn’t I raise you and took care of you? I knew it meant nothing to you but that you would let me die in such a cruel way? I expected more from you, Harry.” His father’s tone was full of disgust.

“I’m sorry, Dad”, Harry sobbed, “I’m sorry.”

“Harry?”, his father asked. He sounded worried.

“I’m so sorry, Dad, I didn’t want that to happen”, he said in a tear-choked voice, “You have to believe me.”

“Harry, come here. You had a bad dream, but I’m here.”

That was the moment Harry realised he wasn’t talking to his father. Peter was sitting next to him and eyed him worriedly. “I’m sorry, Pete. I just thought … I thought you were …”

“Your father, I understand. Do you want to talk about it?”, Peter asked.

Harry shook his head and threw himself in Peter’s arms. He buried his face in Peter’s chest and cried. “It’s all right. Let it out. It will make you feel better”, Peter whispered and rocked his boyfriend gently back and forth. He will do everything he can to ease Harry’s pain. His motivation wasn’t entirely selfless, a part of him hoped to banish the feeling of guilt.

Harry didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t have Peter at his side. Peter was the last anchor to reality he has got left. He was so exhausted, but he couldn’t allow himself to fall asleep again. He was still suffering from the nightmare he had some hours ago. It felt so real. He lied in Peter’s arms and watched his boyfriend sleep, so his thoughts didn’t have a chance to make noises.

Peter murmured and opened his eyes. “Harry, are you still awake?” He sat up and examined Harry’s condition. “You should really get some sleep, you’re way too pale and you look sick.”

Harry shook his head vigorously. “No, I can’t go back there. You don’t understand. If you saw what I saw, you wouldn’t want to go back there either.”

Peter sat up. “You can talk to me about it. Maybe it will help you.”

Harry shook his head again. Saying it out loud would make it real.

Peter laid his hand on Harry’s cheek and stroked it gently. “You’re not alone. I’m here for you. Do you want to take a sedative? You could sleep without dreams.” He remembered Bernard’s words. That was hours ago and even before he arrived. Peter couldn’t imagine how bad Harry’s condition had been when Bernard had already suggested it that early.

After a long-lasting discussion, Harry agreed and when the sedative began to work, he fell asleep on Peter’s chest. To his relief, he didn’t dream again.