saudade

Just like every day after the incident with Doc Ock, Harry visited his old home after work. In case Octavius got Spider-Man, he had to be there. He tried to focus on his papers, but he got distracted as soon as he focused. If nothing happened, he’d make his way back home soon. Peter was waiting for him, and he was looking forward to spending some quality time with him.

To calm down his tense nerves, Harry got himself a drink and paced impatiently back and forth. He didn’t know why but he had the feeling something was about to happen.

A lot of different scenarios crossed his mind – imaginations about how he’d kill his father’s murderer. Because of his therapy sessions, those imaginations rarely crossed his mind anymore but now they were as present as they used to be.

Loud noises from the balcony. Doc Ock entered the mansion – a tied up Spider-Man in his arms.

“Where do you want him?”, Octavius asked.

Harry pointed at the sofa. It was the sofa his father’s body had laid on as Harry saw him for the last time. Now, it would be the place where Spider-Man paid for murdering Norman Osborn.

“It’s time for you to fulfil your part of the deal. Where’s my precious tritium?”

Harry went to his mother’s portrait next to the chimney and revealed a little hiding place where he hid the tritium, but Octavius pushed him aside, so he almost fell on the floor. As he got up again, Octavius had disappeared.

The moment of revenge had come. After all these months of uncertainty and thinking about who his father’s murderer was, the answer was only a few steps away. Harry was overwhelmed. He couldn’t really process it.

His look went to the small table next to him where a photo of him and his father was standing – his father’s arm was wrapped around Harry’s shoulder, and they smiled into the camera. “I’ll make you proud, Dad”, he whispered and took the dagger next to the photo.

His heart was beating in Harry’s chest as he approached the sofa. He’d finally get an answer to the question that made him sick. “Oh, if I could cause you the pain you’ve caused me. I want to look into your eyes as I kill you.” Harry removed the protection from the blade and cut his finger to test if it was sharp enough.

Harry’s fingers were shaking as he grabbed the mask and removed it from Spider-Man’s face. He racked his brains for ages, trying to find out who destroyed his life, but no one could’ve prepared him for the discovery he made in this moment.

“Pete.”

Harry stumbled back in shock and fell on the floor. The dagger fell out of his hand. “It can’t be.” He closed his eyes but as he opened them again, Peter’s blue eyes were still looking into his.

“Harry.” Peter got up and freed himself from his chains.

“You- you killed my father.” Harry refused to believe it but the moment he said it, he knew it was true. His whole world was falling apart.

Peter knelt before him, reaching for his hand but Harry flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

Peter lied to Harry, he betrayed his trust, and he killed his father. All those times Peter comforted him were lies, used to betray and humiliate him. “Did I ever mean anything to you?”

“What? Of course! You mean the world to me”, Peter assured him.

“Then tell me: Were you ever going to tell me? Huh, were you?”, Harry yelled and punched Peter in the face.

“I wanted to do so”, Peter tried to say, his voice was shaking, and his eyes filled with tears. “But there wasn’t the right opportunity and after your father died …”

“You mean after you killed him!”

“I didn’t kill him. It was an accident. Please, you have to believe me”, Peter begged.

“An accident, that’s what you call it, huh? He was just a collateral damage to you, wasn’t he? Just someone who had to be removed.”

“It wasn’t like that, I swear.” Tears were rolling down Peter’s cheeks.

“You have no right to cry.” Harry’s tone was merciless. “Murderers have no rights.”

“How disgusted were you really every time you kissed me? Did you enjoy seeing me break? Making me suffer?”

“Harry, I- I love you. I didn’t want your father to die. Seeing you suffer so much hurt me in a way no weapon could ever hurt me”, Peter said, trying to take his hand.

“Don’t lie to me!” The worst thing was that he wanted to believe Peter. Harry punched him again. “I’ll never be able to trust you again. Never!”

Peter didn’t even try to fight back. He deserved to be punched. Every lie had its price. He knew it right from the beginning, but he didn’t do anything to change it. “Let me explain it.”

“I don’t want to hear your lies. You were like a son to my father. You were the son he always wanted to have but never had. He loved you more than he ever loved me, and you killed him!” Harry’s voice broke and he let out a sob.

“Harry, I’m sorry but-“

“A ‘sorry’ doesn’t change anything. A ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix it. A ‘sorry’ doesn’t bring him back to life. Besides that, I don’t want your pity. Not anymore.” The truth was Harry wanted to be comforted by Peter. He wanted to cry in his arms and be told everything will turn out to be okay.

But he knew it will never happen again.

The pure hatred in Harry’s eyes made Peter stumble a few steps backwards. “If you knew what really happened-“

“I know very well what happened that night. Now leave. Leave right now before I forget myself”, Harry spat him in the face.

But Peter didn’t listen. He tried to get to Harry but he pushed him aside. “Let me tell you the truth, please.”

“I said get out.” Harry shoved him out of the room.

“Harry, I don’t want to lose you”, Peter begged and went on his knees, tears streaming down his face.

“You already did. Now get out.”

Peter desperately clutched Harry’s leg. He couldn’t lose him. He had to make him listen.

“I said GET THE FUCK OUT!” Harry’s face was petrified, and his eyes blazed with a mix of hatred and disgust as he kicked him down the stairs. “If you ever show up here again, don’t think I won’t kill you. Because I will. And I’ll enjoy it. You can be lucky I didn’t kill you now. You don’t deserve to stay alive.”

Peter wished Harry had killed him. It would’ve hurt less than everything Harry said to him. It would release him from the pain he had to endure because of his own actions. It was all his fault.

He got up and after a last look at Harry whom he loved more than anything and whom he hurt more than anyone else could ever do, he left.

When the door fell shut, Harry almost fell on the ground. He was close to having a total breakdown. He still couldn’t believe it.

Everything was a lie.

Harry got himself another drink to make the pain stop. He couldn’t bear it any longer. His hands were shaking as he picked up the dagger and sat down on the sofa.

It had been Peter all along.

Peter who had been his home, his source of safety, his anchor. Peter was responsible for his father’s death.

Every hug, every kiss, every “I love you” was fake.

Every time Peter comforted him and told him he was there for him was a lie.

Peter tortured him and made him suffer just to see how much Harry could endure until he’d finally break into pieces.

And Peter sent him to a therapist so he could start over again.

Harry’s whole body was shaking as he got up to get himself another drink. Sobs and tears made his body tremble.

What had he ever done to deserve this?

His father didn’t love him, and it turned out his boyfriend didn’t love him either. He emptied the bottle of whiskey in one gulp. Harry was desperate to numb the pain that ate him from inside.

He examined the dagger in his hand. Would he really have been able to kill Peter? Nobody hurt him like he did, but would he have been able to live with the knowledge he killed Peter? To see the light in his eyes fade because of him?

Before he could get to an answer, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a closing door.

“Who’s that?”, he called into the void. Nothing.

The door opened and a mad laugh could be heard. The laugh was familiar to him. He had heard it some time before as he visited his father.

“Who’s that?”, he asked again as he got up. The hairs on his neck stood up. Something was wrong. He held the dagger closer to him.

“Son. I’m here.” It was his father’s voice.

Harry frowned and turned to the mirror in which he saw his father. It couldn’t be. He was just a hallucination the alcohol caused him. But as he blinked, his father was still looking at him.

“Dad?”, he whispered. He shouldn’t be talking to his hallucination, but he couldn’t stop. Hearing his father’s voice again made him sob. “I thought you were …”

“No, I’m alive in you, Harry. Now it’s your turn. You swore to make Spider-Man pay. Now make him pay.”

“But Pete’s my boyfriend”, Harry insisted. After all, he still loved Peter. He still had feelings for him, and he didn’t want to lose him, even after everything Peter had done to him.

“And I’m your father.” His father’s voice was strict, merciless, just like it had always been. “You’re weak. You were always weak. And you’ll be weak until you take control. You’re a disappointment, a disgrace. Now you know the truth about Peter. Be strong, Harry. Avenge me. Make him pay for what he did to you.”

Harry shook his head, tears streamed down his face. He wanted his father to get out of his head. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Avenge me!”, his father screamed.

“No!”, Harry yelled back and threw the dagger at the mirror to make his father disappear.

The mirror broke into pieces and revealed a dark corridor. What the hell? He didn’t know this part of the mansion existed.

Carefully, Harry took a step inside. The ground seemed to be solid. Did his father know about it? Probably. Did Bernard know about it?

Harry cautiously groped his way forward. What was the use of this part of the mansion? Why was it abandoned and hidden?

His questions got answered as soon as he saw the horrible green mask.

Harry stumbled some steps backward and bumped into a shelf full of orange balls. He’d recognise them everywhere since he almost got killed by one of them. On a pedestal, there stood the glider.

No, it couldn’t be. His father couldn’t be the Green Goblin. But his discoveries were the proof.

It was too much to bear.

Harry could escape into the living room where he fell to the ground and broke down.

His father was a murderer. His father almost got him killed.

Was he such a horrible son that his own father wanted to kill him? Why did he have to suffer so much? When would the pain stop?

His whole world was falling apart and there was no way to stop it.