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The bell chimed as Harry entered the corner convenience store, the fluorescent lights illuminating him and his surroundings. Tugging up the surgical mask on his face, he strode towards the refrigerators so he could grab himself something to drink. He made sure to not pass the soda section, knowing fully well where the alcohol was located. The temptation was there, but he managed to quell it by reminding himself of how well he was doing. Once he found his favorite soda, a Mountain Dew, he grabbed it and made his way to the snack aisle to grab something to munch on as he relaxed at home that night.
His eyes scoured the aisle, scanning the bags of cheesy chips and chocolate candies. He had a brief flashback to when he and Peter were pre-teens and they’d binge on snacks as they watched wrestling matches on TV. He knew peanut M&M’s were Peter’s favorite. His lip quirked up fondly at the thought of his friend, his hand hovering over the M&M’s, but, remembering that he hadn’t seen him in a while and that it didn’t seem like there was a good enough excuse to change that, he pulled his hand back. He grabbed some Mike and Ike’s for himself instead.
Once he was at the register, he greeted the cashier politely asthe gruff older man began scanning his items. Harry’s eyes fell on a spinner rack of keychains that sat on the counter near him. Many of them were just touristy New York keychains, but a flash of red caught his eye, making his breath catch.
A Spider-Man keychain.
It was circular and just based on his mask, but it was definitely dedicated to his wall crawling friend. Harry took hold of the keychain, biting back a smile that was tugging at his lips. Not too long ago, seeing such a thing would have made him seethe, but now it just reminded him that he shared a connection with the superhero that most never would. He placed it on the counter as the clerk scanned it as well and told him what the total was.
Once Harry had paid, he gathered his items and turned to leave. Just before he reached the door, he heard the clerk say, “Hey!”
Harry turned around to see what he wanted, confused.
“Get well soon, man,” was all the clerk said.
Harry froze for just a second, not understanding. Remembering that he was wearing his mask and realizing that the clerk assumed he was sick, he awkwardly thanked him before exiting the store.
---
For the longest time, Harry had thought the hallucinations and intrusive thoughts would never go away. His drinking and drug use had exacerbated his mental illness, but he knew there was more to the schizophrenia than it seemed. He knew that the goblin serum had been the main cause of his condition afterward, but he’d always felt… off. Even when he was a youth.
The first time that he’d felt deeply paranoid was when he was just sixteen years old. He’d been at a party when he felt a creeping sensation thelonger he stayed there. The people around him just didn’t quite look right. He had a horrible feeling of some evil entity watching over him, controlling his surroundings and the people he was with. It was so overwhelming and disturbing that he didn’t know what to do. He left the party without explanation soon after, leaving his high school friends confused as to what was wrong.
There had been other incidents of paranoia, but he’d not thought much of it at the time. They didn’t happen often enough for him to feel the need to introduce the issue to his father. Besides, he doubted he would be sympathetic to his son’s plight. It would just be him tainting his father’s legacy in yet another way. So Harry kept it to himself and suffered in silence. He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Peter about it, for fear of judgment.
Then he took that serum and actually started hallucinating… and that was a whole new level of terrifying.
Actually seeing his dead father, seemingly in the flesh was absurd… surreal. Deep down he knew that it couldn’t be real… but it felt so real that he almost believed that he’d been mistaken about his death in the first place.
Nowadays he had trouble falling asleep for fear that he’d hear a door creak open ominously, hear his father’s voice uttering his name from beyond the grave.
Harry wished he wasn’t so damn screwed up.
---
Harry sat on the couch, the TV playing softly in the background as white noise. He was alone in the mansion with Bernard who was currently taking a nap in a guest bedroom. The man was growing old and wasn’t in the shape to work as hard as he once had. Harry felt sympathy for him and knew that he’d have to relieve him of his duties not too long from now. It was a bittersweet feeling because he had grown fond of the old man. He was… oddly charming.
Harry laid his eyes on the keychain that he’d placed on the coffee table in front of him. It sat there staring at him through Spider-Man’s eye lenses, almost accusingly. He should have placed it on his keychain by now, but something was stopping him. He wasn’t sure why he was being so indecisive. It was honestly frustrating.
Out of the corner of his eye, he felt as though he were being watched, but he knew exactly what it was. His father’s portrait still hung on the wall in the living room, seemingly watching over him from beyond the grave. Harry had been meaning to have it taken down for a while now, but he seemed to keep forgetting. It felt as though his father was still really there, eyes peering down at him, judging his every action… his involvement with Spider-Man. He felt like he’d never truly be rid of him, even after the hallucinations had slowly dissipated.
Suddenly his phone rang and he frowned as he saw Peter’s name on the screen. He’d been avoiding his calls for the past few weeks, ever since he’d been discharged from the hospital. Despite having been firm in his decision to not speak to him for a while, he found that he felt antsy as the phone continued ringing.
Harry cursed as he picked it up before it could go to voicemail. “Hello?”
“Harry…” Peter sounded relieved on the other line. “Are you okay? Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”
Harry sighed as he rubbed at his forehead, face creasing in tension as though he’d been asked to explain quantum physics to him. “I haven’t been feeling well. That’s all.” Realizing that he should say more than that, he added, “I’m sorry, Pete.”
“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? I can’t explain it, but I just feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”
Harry wondered how it was that his friend knew him so well… better than he knew himself. He seemed so intuitive…
He thought to himself for a moment. He’d feel better if he had someone he could confide in. He knew Peter wouldn’t hurt him, or be cruel (even though… technically he had in the past. But anyway…).
“You’re not drinking again, are you?” Peter asked him. “If you’re struggling with that, I can try to help you. I’m here for you, Harry. You know that.”
Harry couldn’t deny that the accusation did irk him. He knew Peter didn’t mean to piss him off, but why was it so hard to believe that he wasn’t off his rocker anymore? Shouldn’t his hospitalization and near-death after intending to sacrifice himself for his best friend count for something? He’d learned his lesson by now and wasn’t planning on reverting back to his vengeful, angst-ridden self anytime soon.
“No, Pete. I’m not drinking again…” he said sourly. “Not everyone is as busy as you are.”
He could tell that he’d made Peter uncomfortable with the silence that met him afterward. He cursed at himself inwardly for being rude. He knew Peter had good intentions and was just worried. That was all. It was an understandable concern, considering everything they’d endured.
But how could he tell him what it really was? It was on the tip of his tongue. He should tell him. Just tell him.
It’s my face…
… But all he could think about was how Peter was the one who’d mutilated his face to begin with. Even though he didn’t blame him for it anymore, even though he didn’t hate him for it either, it was still true that he was to blame. It just didn’t feel right to go to him with complaints of how ugly and monstrous he feels.
How could he understand anyway?
So Harry swallowed hard and said, “It’s nothing, Pete. You’re just imagining things. Or it’s your Spidey sense gone haywire.” He paused as his throat began closing up. Feeling upset, Harry said, “I’m sorry. I gotta go. I’ll… talk to you soon. Bye.”
He hung up the phone as Peter began to protest, and threw it on the couch. He dropped his face into his hands. Peter was trying, and all he managed was turning him down. It wasn't anything like how they’d been bonding not long ago at the hospital.
“Is everything alright, sir?” Bernard’s voice came from behind Harry, surprising him.
Harry sighed, chuckled a little even though it sounded hollow to his ears. “Yeah, Bernard. Everything’s just peachy.”
---
It was a gloomy day. The sky was overcast and cloudy as people strolled along on the paths leading around the lake at the park. People walked their dogs along or simply walked beside their significant others or friends.
Harry, on the other hand, sat alone on the bench facing people as they walked past. Wearing his mask as usual, he’d felt like he couldn’t stand being locked up in his mansion for another second, so he’d decided to go somewhere that actual people frequented. Normally, he came with either Peter or Mary Jane, but since neither of them were an option, he decided to come alone.
He sat quietly as he stared at the lake and the ripples that ducks and geese made as they swam along in the water. It was relaxing watching them and he even appreciated the weather. In a way, he preferred it to a bright, sunny day.
It matched how he felt on the inside.
He still felt odd going outside even with a mask on. He was the only one wearing one, after all. Sometimes people looked at him oddly for it. It seemed like, no matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the stares that plagued him wherever he went.
He did miss liking what he saw in the mirror. He was never one to flaunt his looks, though, despite being told he was handsome. Sure, he’d had a bit of an inflated ego, but it was a small price to pay for feeling like he belonged with other people.
For not feeling like a freak.
He had yet to go out in public without his mask on. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the kinds of looks he’d get. How people would cower in fear at the sight of his scarred face.
Such a tragedy considering how quickly the damage had been done by that small pumpkin bomb.
Suddenly a Frisbee flew over and fell in front of him. Harry watched as a little black-haired boy ran up to him and picked up the frisbee. He looked up at him briefly and smiled, not a trace of fear or anxiety on his face. “Sorry, mister,” he said before turning and running back to where he’d come from.
It was such a brief interaction, but it left its mark on Harry. He’d rarely spoken to anyone since he’d been discharged from the hospital. He felt so envious seeing other people’s smooth, beautiful faces, that he couldn’t stand being around others. Yet… something about that little boy made him wish for a moment that he didn’t need to wear a mask in order to have that kind of interaction.
Or maybe… that he didn’t need the mask whether or not the reaction he received was a nice one.
Harry slumped on the bench, heaving a sigh of frustration at himself. He wondered if maybe he shouldn’t be so isolated after all. He was starting to feel like some kind of vampire, lurking around in the shadows. He wanted to feel human again. If it was at all possible, he wanted to feel like himself again.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it for a moment, thought about calling Peter. Some movement caught his eye to his side and he looked up. He saw a couple holding each other close and then leaning in to kiss one another. They wrapped their arms around one another and held each other. Feeling a lump in his throat and a rush of longing, Harry pressed his finger on Peter’s number, calling him.
---
The cafe was mostly empty with Harry sitting in the corner, waiting for Peter to arrive. His eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, seeing that his friend was a few minutes late now. He sighed as he took a sip of his water, feeling more and more nervous by the minute. It was that feeling you only get when you haven’t seen someone you really love in a long while, and it was engulfing him totally.
Every now and then, a waitress would glance in his direction curiously, but he tried to ignore it. It was hard to ignore it, though, and was getting more and more irritating each time it happened.
Even more uncomfortable was the fact that the cafe they were meeting at was the same one from when Harry had told Peter that he was “the other guy” in regards to Mary Jane. He wondered why he couldn’t have suggested meeting somewhere new, but figured that maybe he didn’t care too much about the awkwardness after all. Things were always kind of awkward with Peter anyway. That was just how he was… and Harry had always found it strangely disarming.
Finally, just as Harry was about to text Peter and ask him where he was, the door opened and Peter walked in. He was dressed casually with his hair parted neatly to the side as it always was. His eyes lit up as they met Harry’s and he smiled as he walked over to his table and sat down.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Harry,” Peter said. “So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
Harry smiled nervously. But Peter’s eyes were kind as he watched him, and Harry felt his doubts slowly vanish as he remembered how safe he’d always felt with Peter in the past. Briefly, he remembered slapping him at the party and how Peter had never thrown that in his face even though he had every right to.
It was a tense subject for sure and he knew it was risky bringing it up with his friend. But he also knew that he couldn’t handle this alone for another moment, so he would take that risk.
“It’s… something I’ve been feeling bad about. Ever since it happened. I didn’t know who else to talk to. I don’t wanna sound like I’m whining, or like I’m bitter, but… yeah,” Harry chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I guess I’m bitter.”
Something seemed to dawn on Peter as his features tightened. His eyes lowered self consciously as he nodded. “Your scars,” he whispered. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
“How’d you guess?” Harry joked, but Peter didn’t laugh. He could see the guilt that still haunted him after all this time. He had noticed that Peter had a difficult time looking him in the eye when he’d been at the hospital. It was part of the reason why he’d developed such an insecurity about his face since then.
“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Peter said quietly. “I really hate that black suit,” he added under his breath.
Harry shook his head as he took a sip of his water. That was when a waitress came over to their table and took their orders. Once she walked away, he looked back at Peter and saw that he still looked pained.
“I guess I just… don’t know what to do, Pete,” Harry said. “I don’t feel right wearing this mask. It feels like I’m hiding myself from other people. But at the same time, I don’t feel safe putting myself out there, scars and all. I don’t know what I’d do when someone stares at me like I’m some kind of a freak.”
Peter shook his head ruefully. “You’re not a freak, Harry. You’re still a good-looking guy. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Harry shot him a look. “Pete, there is definitely something wrong with me. Otherwise I wouldn’t be wearing this mask.”
Peter didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then simply nodded as though processing Harry’s words. The waitress came back with their drinks, placing them on the table. She smiled kindly at Harry before turning back to focus on her other work behind the counter.
They were silent for a little while, sipping their drinks and immersed in their thoughts. Finally, Peter broke the silence. “Have you… have you gone out without your mask at all? Even once?”
“No,” Harry said. “Not even once.”
Peter looked at him seriously, stared into his eyes with the determination that suited Spider-Man. “People aren’t going to respond the way you want them to, Harry. You know how people are. They make things weird even if they don’t mean to. And some people… some people are just cruel.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “You’re right. That’s… that’s what I’m afraid of.”
“But… “ Peter continued, and laid his hand on top of Harry’s, squeezing it affectionately. “That doesn’t mean you should hide yourself behind a mask. I know that sounds weird coming from, well, me, but you’re going to feel like you’re stuck behind it sooner or later. And that will be painful.”
Harry felt as though a shadow passed over him as his thoughts went straight towards the prospect of dating in the future. It would be hard to find someone to look past the mask, and will anyone take a chance on him now that he is bitter and not even wanting to go outside much? God, how he hated this…
He just wanted to be fully himself.
“Help me, Pete,” Harry pleaded, shutting his eyes tightly. “Please help me overcome this. I can’t do it alone. I’m sorry I hid it from you guys, but I was scared that you wouldn’t understand. I was just so scared.”
Peter squeezed his hand once more as he let go of it. Harry looked up at him and saw his friend’s eyes soften tenderly in a way they hadn’t in so long. It made his heart clench. “I’m here for you, pal,” Pete said. “I always am.”
Harry smiled shakily at Peter, deeply relieved by his words of encouragement and reassurance. Even though Peter’s face was smooth and ‘normal’-looking, he no longer hated him for maintaining his outward appearance. Instead, Harry felt grateful that neither of them had died and they still had a chance to restore their bond despite all the ugliness that stood between them.
“Thanks,” he said. “You’re a good friend.”
Peter’s eyes twinkled knowingly as the corner of his lip quirked upward. “I try.”
---
A few days later…
Harry bit his lip excitedly as he pounded the buttons on his controller, leaning forward on his couch. Peter sat beside him much more relaxed as he played with ease. They were playing Ultimate Fighter 7 and Peter had already K.O.’d his character once. His friend had always been good at video games, and this was the first time they’d had a match in years. Harry was definitely rusty by comparison and was fighting desperately for his life against Peter.
Harry’s bulky character kicked at Peter’s more wiry character, shot flames at him and even tried tripping him repeatedly, but it was no use. Peter’s combos were totally and utterly annihilating him. As Harry’s character fell to the ground in slow motion after a brutal uppercut, Harry threw the controller aside and glared at his friend who looked sheepishly back at him.
“You’re even kicking my ass in video games,” Harry said accusingly. He couldn’t help but be just a bit disappointed that he couldn’t at least beat Peter in a game if not in an actual fist fight. “Is there a universe out there where you aren’t stronger than me?”
Peter’s eyes sparkled in amusement as he said, “Maybe in an alternate timeline where you’re Spider-Man and I’m Harry Osborn.”
Harry was about to respond when he realized something felt off. He looked down and saw that his hands were shaking. He tried to make the shaking stop, but it seemed uncontrollable. Fear made his heart plummet. Was he that excited from the video game match? Or was it…
Harry frowned as he tried hiding his shaking by taking hold of a pillow. He hadn’t had a drink in weeks, had prided himself in it. He wasn’t going to go back to the bottle now. He had to stay firm in his resolve. Besides, maybe it was just jitters, after all.
Realizing that Peter was now looking at him curiously, Harry got a hold of himself. “God, I suck so much,” he finally said. Thinking back to that keychain, he smiled wryly. “I never would have thought I’d be on Spider-Man’s side one day. I still can’t believe it. Dorky Peter Parker webbing up criminals and saving New York every day. If it wasn’t for… you know… I’d have loved being in on your little secret.”
Peter chuckled. “Well, you’re in on it now, Harry. Besides… according to the merchandise I’ve seen, you’re not too shabby yourself.”
“Merchandise?”
Peter looked surprised. “You haven’t seen it?”
Harry shook his head.
“There’s New Goblin merch being sold in some stores. I’ve seen some toys and—I gotta say-- they’re pretty cool. Actually bought one, if you want me to be honest.”
Harry absorbed this information numbly. They were making toys and shirts based on him? He never would have expected that after only fighting evil with Spider-Man just that one time. He didn’t do it with any thought on his mind other than that he wanted to save Peter and Mary Jane. He didn’t expect any sort of fame to come out of it as well. He wondered a bit selfishly if there could even be cartoons based on his character as there were based on Spider-Man.
Feeling embarrassed, Harry tried to shake it off. “Well, I don’t need that kind of fame. You deserve it more than me, Hero.”
Peter smiled softly at him and didn’t say anything. Somehow that only embarrassed Harry even more. Finally, remembering the reason he’d invited Peter over to begin with, he cleared his throat. “So, are we gonna talk about what I brought you here for, or what?”
“Yeah, yeah… sorry. Of course. Okay.” Peter clapped his hands together. “Well, I have an idea for how we can start putting you out there. I don’t think you should do things all at once. You should take baby steps. Ease into things. You know what I mean?”
Harry nodded, feeling his spirits lift. He had full confidence that Peter would know what to do to help him overcome his insecurities. After all, Peter used to be a bully magnet and he was now the coolest superhero on the planet. “So… you wanna tell me where we should go first? If you wanna take things slow?”
Peter smiled and said, “Let’s go see Aunt May and go for a walk around her neighborhood.”
---
They arrived at Aunt May’s apartment in the early evening when there was still daylight. Peter sat in the driver’s seat and turned towards Harry who felt a little nervous.
Harry tried calming himself down as he prepared to step outside the car without his mask on. Peter had told him that it was okay for him to carry it if it made him feel safer. Harry was grateful that he was allowed the crutch, even if he was never actually going to put it back on.
“You ready, Har? There’s still some people outside.”
“Yeah,” Harry said a bit breathlessly. “I’m ready.” He felt self conscious about his face being bare even in front of his best friend. He could hardly look him in the eye as they spoke, feeling certain that he’d see some form of pity or discomfort in his eyes. He really needed to overcome that fear, though.
They stepped out of the car and began walking on the sidewalk. Some people passed by every now and then, most of them not paying them any mind.
As they walked along the sidewalk, they were mostly quiet because they were focused on Harry getting through this exercise without giving up and running back to the car. To his disappointment – and relief – no one looked at him closely enough to seem to acknowledge his facial scars. He was even feeling pretty good about himself, even if he hadn’t actually accomplished anything.
But just as they were making their way back to the car, Harry felt someone place a hand on his arm, grasping it.
“Excuse me, sir,” a woman’s voice said as he turned around. Harry saw a middle-aged woman wearing a beanie looking back at him. She was about to continue when she paused for a second, clearly reacting to his face.
Harry tensed in discomfort and had to avert his eyes. He had sort of expected this kind of reaction, but it still didn’t prepare him for when it actually did happen. He could feel Peter watching him closely from his side, and that made him even more anxious. Embarrassed, he said, “Yes? Are you okay?”
The woman seemed to snap out of her trance as she said, “Oh, yes. I’m sorry. Could you tell me the time, please? I don’t have my phone with me.”
Harry pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. Not brave enough to look at her, he said, “6:22.”
Once the woman had thanked him and walked away, Harry turned towards Peter and gave him a look.
Peter, on the other hand, placed a hand on his shoulder, grasping it kindly. “Harry, you did great."
“I couldn’t even look at her,” Harry mumbled. He couldn’t shake his disappointment in how the interaction had gone.
Peter shook his hand in front of him as they walked, as though he were brushing aside Harry’s complaints. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not wearing your mask and you talked to her. That’s a big step forward.”
Right. Harry tried to cheer up a little at Peter’s words. Maybe he was being too hard on himself. It wasn’t like he’d get over his fears instantly. As they walked along the rest of the way back to Aunt May’s apartment, only one other person looked at Harry’s face and stared for a bit. Harry tried to quell his feelings of unease and simply accept it, but he found it was harder than he thought. He wondered why people felt the need to stare so rudely like that. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d done such a thing to someone. Oh well…
Peter had then comforted him by telling him that he’d give Aunt May a heads up about the fact that he has significant facial scarring. Harry felt a bit embarrassed that he had to do that, but was grateful all the same. He waited somewhere off to the side as Peter called Aunt May and quietly explained things to her. It was kind and considerate of Peter to make the effort to make things go as smoothly as possible for him.
Once they arrived at Aunt May’s apartment, and were standing outside her door, Peter smiled encouragingly at Harry. Harry tried smiling back, but he was certain it looked more like a grimace. Harry hoped deep down that she had gone out right after that phone call, so he could delay this stressful situation for another time. Just as he was about to ask Peter if they could come back another day, they heard footsteps walking towards them and the door was unlocked and opened.
Aunt May smiled at Peter who stood in front of Harry, greeting him happily as she kissed him on the cheek and welcomed him in. Harry unconsciously ducked his head so his scars would be less noticeable in the shadows. Aunt May didn’t seem to react to them as she kissed him on the cheek as well and beckoned him inside.
Once they were inside, Peter and Aunt May made some small talk, while Aunt May kept looking at Harry and smiling sweetly at him. There was definitely sympathy in her eyes as she looked at Harry, but he couldn’t bring himself to think badly of it at all. It just showed that she cared about his well-being, that was all.
As Harry stood across from them, he forced himself to look her in the eye like Peter had told him he should practice doing. As Peter went into more detail about what had happened, but not explaining that Peter was the one who threw the bomb, Harry felt increasingly awkward. He hadn’t anticipated how weird it would feel for Peter to be the one to explain his scars to someone until this moment.
“Harry…”, Aunt May said, once Peter was done explaining. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. You poor dear…”
Somehow exposing himself to her wasn’t going as terribly as he’d imagined it in his head. She was taking it rather well, actually. Harry felt relief sweep over him as he smiled charmingly like he used to before the bomb blast. “Well, it could have been a lot worse. My entire face could have been scarred, for example. So I’m glad that didn’t happen.”
“I think he looks great,” Peter piped up suddenly, making Harry and Aunt May look at him. “Doesn’t he, Aunt May?”
Aunt May sputtered for a few seconds before getting a hold of herself. Smiling at Harry awkwardly, she said, “Why, of course he does. When doesn’t he? Dashing young man…”
Harry felt shy in receiving such a compliment. He’d always been fond of Peter’s aunt, though. She was a sweet woman who’d been like a mother to him when he hadn’t had one in so long. He’d often felt jealous of Peter for having such doting relatives and wished he had been blessed with the same. Eventually, he got over his jealousy and accepted that Peter and Mary Jane were more than enough.
They all decided to sit at Aunt May’s dinner table and as they talked, recent events were brought up. Eventually, Spider-Man became the topic, although Harry noticed Peter’s unease at it.
“I saw in the paper that he stopped a bank robbery on 22nd street the other day,” Aunt May said. “he’s doing the police’s work for them, it seems. Well, it’s kind of him to give them a break from their duties as often as he does.”
Harry shook his head. “He’s doing a much better job than they are, in my opinion. Really cleaning the streets, that bug.”
“Well, it’s not like they can shoot webs,” Peter said. “And they don’t have super strength either.”
Aunt May looked at him as though she wanted to say something, but she seemed to change her mind. She looked amused as she said, “I still remember how it felt to soar in the sky with him. An old bird like me is as frail as it gets, but he made me feel so safe. Such a lovely young man.”
“Yeah… he’s not so bad,” Peter said. His lip quirked upward as he said, “But his friend seems cooler, if you ask me.”
Aunt May looked confused for a second before realization seemed to dawn on her. “Oh, that’s right. That New Goblin, was it? My, if it wasn’t for him, Spider-Man might not still be around to help people today.”
Harry was blushing as he felt Peter’s eyes boring into him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at either of them as he was overwhelmed by embarrassment. He didn’t know what to say either, but he felt as though his commentary was needed. “He just did what anyone with a heart would do. I mean, it’s Spidey. Who wouldn’t wanna help him?”
“Yes… who, indeed,” Aunt May said.
There was a moment of silence where the three of them seemed to not have anything to say. Just as it began to grow awkward Aunt May placed a hand on top of Harry’s arm, making him look up at her, curious.
“Harry,” she said, looking very serious, “please take care of yourself, dear. Be more careful in the future. I don’t want to hear about anything awful happening to you. Peter and I… we love you. It would break our hearts.”
Harry had known Aunt May for many years, but it wasn’t often that she displayed this level of raw emotion towards him. He felt a great relief in his heart, hearing her say such things to him. Smiling at her, he stood up, walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. “I’ll try my best,” he said. “I’m sorry to make you worry, May.”
Upon pulling apart, he saw Aunt May’s eyes were shining with unshed tears. The pain in her eyes startled him, making him feel guilty for causing her to feel distressed. She was an old woman, after all. Although he knew by now that she was tougher than she looked, as well. He muttered another ‘sorry’ as he looked to Peter, who was smiling softly at them both.
“Just one more thing, Harry,” Aunt May said, making Harry look back at her again. “I just want you to know that you are always welcome here. Just like before… before things changed between you two,” she added sheepishly. “Don’t ever feel like you need to hide things from me.”
A lump formed in Harry’s throat. Those were words he’d often longed to hear from his own father, but never had. He couldn’t say that he’d deny them, coming from Peter’s aunt. They still rekindled and satiated old desires.
“Thank you,” Harry whispered.
Time passed by quickly as the conversation eventually died down. Just as they were about to leave, Aunt May stopped Peter. “Peter?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you’ll be ready to propose to Mary Jane soon?”
There was a long silence as Peter thought about what she said. Then looking a bit sad, he said, “I don’t know.”
Harry stood silently to the side, biting his lip hard. He couldn’t help but feel as though he were floundering in comparison to his friend whose love life was flourishing by comparison. Feelings of jealousy stirred within him, but he tried suppressing them and smiling pleasantly at his friend instead.
Aunt May seemed to accept this solemnly although it was obvious that wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. As they left her apartment and went back to Peter’s car, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Sitting inside the car, he turned to Peter and said, “That went a lot better than I thought it would. Thanks, buddy.”
Peter grinned as he started the car. “Of course.”
---
The next few days passed by relatively smoothly. Peter was busy with Spider-Man related things, so he couldn’t see him. Harry still texted him throughout the day to see what he was up to. He was a bit worried about his friend, who he felt took on too much on his own sometimes. Being Spider-Man was no minor task… it was extremely dangerous. He wasn’t completely happy with the fact that Peter risked his life all the time, but he knew he shouldn’t try to convince him to change his mind either. It wasn’t like he’d have much luck at doing so, anyway.
He had already seen Mary Jane at the hospital, so there was no need for him to face her with his scars. He did miss her, however. As Harry lay on his couch, he stared at a photo of him, Peter, and Mary Jane at a restaurant. Harry and Mary Jane were smiling at the camera, but Peter looked like he’d been talking while the picture was being taken. It was a funny picture and he liked it, despite Peter ‘ruining’ it.
He sensed Bernard entering the living room, so he looked up to see his butler sit down in a chair across from him.
Harry sat up, confused. “Bernard? Is everything okay? If you’re tired, you can rest for a while.”
Bernard looked so feeble as he sat on that chair, so small and weak, that it broke Harry’s heart a little. He felt guilt rise within him for even having the man work as much as he did. He was getting far too old for this. He knew Bernard was far past the age of retirement, which made things even more disheartening, somehow.
“I’m quite alright, sir. I just thought I might join you for a little while.”
“Oh…” Harry felt a bit flustered. Bernard rarely sat with him like this outside of when they ate together at the dinner table. “Of course. That’s fine.”
They sat quietly for a little while, with Harry feeling somewhat uneasy as he tried to discretely put aside the photo he’d been looking at. He hoped Bernard hadn’t been watching him.
After a little while, Bernard said, “How is Miss Watson doing? I haven’t seen her here since you were first discharged from the hospital.”
There was a long silence as Harry considered how he should respond to this. He could also feel his father’s eyes on him from the wall nearby. It reminded him of what he had said to Harry, about women being ‘all the same’, and how he’d upset Mary Jane. That wasn’t the first time he’d been rude to a girl he’d introduced him to.
“She’s… she’s fine. I just haven’t felt like inviting anyone over. I need to recuperate and all that.”
Bernard seemed to mull this over as he sat with his hands clasped between his knees. Looking up at Harry, he said, “You should consider inviting her over sometime. She’s a lovely young woman. You seemed quite happy around her.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He hated that a part of him felt happy to hear what Bernard was saying, but he needed to inform him of what had happened since Bernard had last seen Mary Jane. Harry cleared his throat. “Mary Jane… is with Peter now. They got back together.”
Bernard looked surprised. “Oh… Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”
“It’s alright,” Harry said with a sigh. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling stressed. “I’m doing great. I don’t need… I’m not looking for someone right now.”
Bernard nodded and was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Well, if I may, sir… I don’t think you should lock yourself in here and give up on finding a nice young lady for yourself. You’re a charming young man and anyone would be lucky to have you as her boyfriend.”
Harry stared at Bernard, speechless. He then averted his eyes, feeling embarrassed. “Thank you, Bernard. That’s kind of you.”
“I just want you to be happy, Harry,” Bernard said.
Harry’s eyes widened at Bernard addressing him by name. It was highly unusual, but not unwelcome. He was sure the old man hadn’t intended to say it, perhaps because of how old he was, but it was still sweet anyway.
“I… appreciate that,” Harry said, looking up and smiling at him. “I really do.”
---
For the next few days, Harry and Peter stepped out onto the streets a bit more often. He did choose places that weren’t very crowded, but it felt like enough of a step forward that it made a difference to him. Peter was there for him every step of the way, providing his feedback and telling him how he was doing. It was reassuring and made Harry feel so hopeful he could have wept.
---
A little later, Harry saw Peter again. Peter told Harry that he needed some rest from crime-fighting for the day because he’d promised himself that he’d try to make more time for his loved ones.
This time they were sitting in Harry’s car outside of the local shopping mall. Peter had been a bit skeptical, had suggested they go to a park instead first, but Harry had insisted that he wanted to do this. That he felt confident in himself.
Now as they sat in the car, Harry felt the insane urge to look in the drop-down mirror and examine his scars. It was an unhealthy habit he’d developed ever since he’d been discharged from the hospital. He felt the need to see them from every angle and all types of lighting. Every time he looked, he hoped desperately that they’d be less noticeable somehow, but his hopes were crushed every single time.
It was like his image became more distorted the longer he stared at himself. He almost expected to hear his reflection cackle maniacally back at him.
Peter watched him silently as he sat beside him. As Harry slammed the mirror shut, he scowled. He couldn’t get used to his new reflection no matter how many times he looked at it. He still half-expected to be greeted by his handsome chiseled face every time. And every time he looked, he was met by crushing disappointment.
It was horrible.
“Are you okay?” Peter asked shyly.
Harry sighed. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… the usual, I guess,” he muttered.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
Harry swallowed hard as he watched people walk from the parking lot and into the mall. It was a weekday, so it wouldn’t be too crowded, but there were still enough people here that he knew it would be nerve-wracking. Slowly, he nodded, and tried to mimic the kind of determination that he knew Peter had when he’d fight crime as Spider-Man. “Yeah… yeah, I’m ready. I can do this.”
“Great,” Peter said. “Let’s go.”
As they made their way into the mall, Harry felt the urge to hide his face, knowing that, in this lighting, his scars probably looked grotesque. He hated the ridges that stood out so starkly in the daytime. But as Peter patted his back encouragingly, he inhaled deeply and braced himself. He could do this. He would do this. He wasn’t a coward. He was the New Goblin, wasn’t he? That had to count for something.
And so they walked along around the mall, with people passing them by every now and then. There were occasional stares. Some of them were quite awkward, with the person not looking away even after Harry looked back at them. He managed to survive the worst of it, though and even felt brave enough to enter stores with Peter. They walked around in close proximity of other shoppers.
Peter suggested to Harry that he buy something from one of the shops, so he decided on a soda from a little refrigerator in a snack shop. As Harry walked up to the register, puffed up his chest and decided to try to make small talk with the cashier, he felt Peter’s presence by his side, supporting him like the best friend that he was.
The cashier had barely reacted to his facial scars. In fact, it was almost like he didn’t notice them at all. He spoke to Harry like he was a friend, rather than like he was some kind of disfigured monster. It touched Harry deeply that people could be so kind. As they stepped out of the store, Harry felt uplifted in a way that he hadn’t in so long.
They decided to go to the mall arcade and beat a shooter together, which was one of their personal traditions ever since they were pre-teens.
As they continued walking around the mall, mostly to pass the time at this point, Harry felt Peter tap him on the shoulder.
“I’m gonna check out this comic shop,” Peter said, pointing to the store with his thumb. “You wanna come, too, Harry?”
Harry chuckled. Comics had never been something he was very interested in. He knew how much Peter loved them, but he’d never read one that he really enjoyed. “Nah. You go on ahead. I’ll sit and wait for you outside.”
Peter nodded as he walked into the comic shop and Harry walked over to a circular seating area nearby. He sat down on the side that no one else was sitting on. As he sat and waited, he watched as people walked past him, some of them families, some friends, and others who were couples. He hadn’t been to a mall in quite a while, so the experience felt kind of weird. It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling… just different.
As he waited for Peter to come back out, he felt a presence on his left along with a tap on his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin and had to calm himself down so as not to look weird. “Excuse me,” a young woman’s voice said. Harry looked up shakily to see a pretty young woman around his age smiling at him. She had light brown hair and was wearing a dress with flower print on it. Still, even though she was smiling, the look in her eyes felt off somehow.
“Come here often?” she asked, eyes a little too bright as she uttered the cliched line.
Harry instinctively shook his head, responding honestly to her question. It only hit him as she walked away towards a group that looked like her friends, that she’d played a prank on him. He felt shame swell up within him as he realized why she’d done it. She was implying that he was so ugly that the thought of someone asking him out was funny.
For the first time in many years, Harry felt deeply intimidated by someone. It was tragic how afraid he felt that she might come back for round two and dish out another cleverly veiled insult about his looks. All he knew, was that he wanted to leave the mall right now and go back home. His outing had quickly been ruined by her. So he stood up and walked into the comic store to look for Peter. He soon found him flipping through a Batman comic.
Peter looked up at him, confused. “Harry? What’s up?”
Harry could hardly bring himself to look at Peter. His head was lowered as he wished he could somehow hide his features beneath his hair. He felt timid in front of his friend… inferior and inadequate. He felt flashbacks to when he’d first discovered that Peter was Spider-Man, how left behind and abandoned it had made him feel.
“I was just thinking, I should go back home. I have some cleaning up I need to do in my room.”
Peter looked unconvinced. His eyes darted outside of the store. “Did something happen?”
Harry grew irritated very fast. “No, nothing happened. I just want to leave, dammit. Why do you always have to question things?”
Peter stared at him after his outburst, looking hurt. He eventually put the comic book aside and left the store along with Harry. As they left the mall and walked back to the car, they were silent and it was quite uncomfortable. Harry didn’t know what to say and didn’t feel like saying much anyway. He couldn’t stop replaying that look in the girl’s eye as she’d played that prank on him.
They drove in silence all the way until Harry reached Peter’s apartment, where he dropped him off. Peter had told him to text him if he wants to talk, but Harry had brushed it off, and simply grunted in response.
Once he arrived home, Harry greeted Bernard briefly before walking to his bedroom. He went to his bed, where he laid down, staring up at the ceiling. It was getting late and he should be getting ready for bed soon, but all he could do was replay the scenario over and over again in his head. He kept trying to make some sort of excuse for it, kept examining her reaction in his head. He wanted to convince himself that he’d misinterpreted it… that he was wrong somehow. That she actually had been flirting with him.
But he knew he’d only be fooling himself.
Harry took his pillow into his arms, and held it close against his chest. He felt certain that he’d never have the confidence to go on a date ever again as long as he looked like this. He’d be lucky if he found someone who married him for his money alone, despite his appearance. He hated knowing that he’d be explaining his face to every person he had to build a relationship with for the rest of his life. His scars had become the biggest cause of stress in his life, and he was in charge of a company. At least, he had been, anyway. He wasn’t sure when he was going to return to those duties… if ever.
He did feel bad for pushing Peter away the way that he had, but he’d felt so upset… so ashamed… that he hadn’t wanted to confide in his friend in what had happened. He didn’t want to see pity in his eyes. He didn’t want the confirmation that Peter was better than him.
Just then, he felt a sensation in his hands. Looking down, he saw they were trembling. Like they did when he and Peter had been playing video games.
Feeling an urge rise within him, Harry licked his lips. His throat suddenly felt parched. He made his way outside of his room and stalked up to the alcohol cabinet. Despite quitting drinking, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to throw away the stash that he still had.
Harry grabbed a bottle of liquor, opened it and drank straight from the bottle. He nearly shuddered at the satisfaction he felt from the familiar taste that he’d missed since being discharged. The taste was bitter and strong, but it felt oddly comforting, like an old friend that he was relieved was still around. It burned as it went down his throat, and he began shaking at how good it felt… to relieve his thirst.
His body began warming up until all he felt was heat. He could finally feel good again… something that he’d missed for the past few weeks that he’d been sober. He felt revitalized and light-headed in that familiar way that signified he was on his way to a good night’s sleep.
Harry drank until the bottle was mostly empty and then set it aside. Wiping his mouth, he slumped to the kitchen floor as his eyes suddenly welled up with tears. It was like they realized the gravity of what he’d done before his own mind did. Sobs bubbled up in his throat as his hand tangled in his hair in frustration. He didn’t feel better at all. In fact, he now felt even worse than he had to begin with.
Even as his head swayed slightly as he looked around him, he knew that he’d screwed up by turning to alcohol. Hot tears ran down his face as he felt ashamed of himself for the second time that day. If Peter saw him now, he’d be so disappointed in him. It broke his heart, just thinking about it.
Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them as he quivered against the cabinet he was sitting in front of.
I’m a coward… he thought to himself. I should have said something to her. I should have stood up for myself. I shouldn’t have let her get away with making me feel like that.
Eventually, Harry slunk back to his room, threw himself onto his bed and fell asleep.
---
For the next few days, Harry found himself feeling lost and dismayed. He wanted to keep to himself and avoid leaving the house unless he absolutely had to. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to regress back to prior bad habits. Perhaps he cared too much about his friends and had learned his lesson about how not reaching out was never a good idea. Especially when he needed the help.
He did sometimes talk to Bernard about how he was feeling, and that was a big step forward. It felt nice confiding in his butler, who had always been so kind to him.
But it never quite filled the hole in his heart.
Harry had at least stopped himself from turning back to the bottle since the night that he’d relapsed. He’d felt awful about it and had cursed himself profusely for allowing himself to stoop so low as to turn to drinking again. It was a moment he wasn’t proud of. He wouldn’t let it happen again, no matter how badly he felt about his face.
The problem was, he didn’t know what to turn to, other than drinking, when he felt like this-- So… horribly.
All he could do was mope around, hating himself for being so incapable of overcoming the issues that plagued him.
He at least was able to talk to Peter while he felt this way. Harry wasn’t one to open up to people the way that Peter did, but he was learning to accept his friend’s calls at times when he felt sad. He couldn’t quite bring himself to bring up what had happened at the mall yet because he felt timid and embarrassed about it, but he did tell Peter about his insecurities and general unhappiness.
Harry somehow felt as though all their progress had regressed markedly. He’d never been able to face his fears because he simply couldn’t accept that he looked the way that he did. No amount of exposure therapy was going to make him be okay with his appearance.
---
One day, Harry decided that it was time that he confide in Peter about what had happened. It had just hit him out of nowhere while he was sitting by himself one evening. He was alone without even Bernard for company, his father’s portrait haunting him as it often did. The old paranoia that used to plague him had been creeping up on him with each passing night. He felt like he was on the verge of having a schizophrenic episode because of it. He’d been taking his medication, but occasionally, even then, things would go wrong. It always frightened him badly when this happened and he’d never had someone to turn to in the past. Peter knew about his schizophrenia because he’d confided in him at the hospital, but he didn’t know much of the details.
Anyway, the feeling of delusions and paranoia had hit him that evening almost like the crying spell he’d had when he’d relapsed with drinking. He felt like he was being watched and followed by the paintings in his own house. It was like their eyes were moving as he walked along each hallway. Every creaking door meant someone was in there with him, with evil intentions. He was plagued by anxiety as his eyes darted in every direction for the source of his fears. He’d then been overwhelmed by a great sense of loss that he couldn’t quite describe. He felt like he was the only one in the world who ever felt this way and it disturbed him.
Even after having taken the medication and the feeling subsiding, he avoided the mirrors in his house. Except it wasn’t that he was afraid of seeing his father… he didn’t want to see himself. And not because of his scars. Instead, it was because he feared seeing his father in his face. The thought was enough to make him shudder.
Still, that evening, as his mind was tormenting him, he'd stopped at one point and stood in front of a mirror. He forced himself to look at his face. Just as it had happened at the mall, he felt as though his image were distorted somehow... that he just didn't look right. It wasn't that he was scarred. It was something else, he realized.
Then it hit him.
Maybe what he thought he wanted wasn't what he truly wanted.
Harry needed to open up to Peter and tell him the truth about that day at the mall. Even if it made Harry look bad in some way, maybe he needed that kind of feeling to help him reach the end of his pain. It was better than just keeping it to himself, not knowing what to do with the memory other than let it make him shrink into himself. Maybe… maybe he just needed a friend to confide in.
So he texted Peter that he’d come see him at his apartment that night.
---
Harry had decided to go to Peter’s apartment. The place was pretty crappy by his standards, but he couldn’t help but find his friend’s landlord and his daughter to be likable. It seemed Peter had lucked out and found a landlord who actually cared about him… and not just his money, as it had seemed at first.
Harry tucked the small bag of peanut M&M’s into his jacket pocket as he walked up the creaking stairs of the apartment complex. Once at the top of the stairs, he made his way to Peter’s apartment. Just as he raised his fist to knock on his door, he heard some movement behind him. He turned around quickly and was relieved to see it was just Ursula standing behind him, looking gawky and shy as usual.
Harry tensed slightly as he turned away from her, not knowing if he should try to explain his mask or not. “Hi,” he said, not quite facing her. “I’m here to see Peter.”
“I know,” she said. “I was just wondering if you want some cookies.”
Harry’s eyebrow lifted. Cookies? He wasn’t very hungry, but… Ursula’s cookies were very tasty. He’d tried them a few times before and liked them a lot. Feeling eager to eat the cookies, but also not wanting to endure the discomfort of her questioning him too much, Harry fought with himself before relenting.
Ursula didn’t give any indication that she was aware that anything was wrong. She simply smiled at him eagerly as she watched him devour three chocolate chip cookies.
“I’m happy that you’re out of that hospital, finally,” Ursula said. “Pete was really worried about you.”
Harry rubbed the crumbs on his fingers off against his pants. “I know he was. Poor guy didn’t get much sleep while I was there. I think he was even worse off than I was.”
“Well at least you’re okay now. He told me you got into a bad fight. Seems like people around him get hurt often, poor guy.”
Feeling a bit anxious at a subject that could make her suspicious, Harry said, “Yeah, he tells me it’s the Parker luck. Also explains why he’s always short on rent, as I’m sure your dad would agree.”
Ursula laughed. “Yeah, one day Dad’ll be the one in that hospital. He really stresses about getting paid on time. I feel bad about it.”
“Yeah, well, it’s understandable. Guy’s gotta make a living somehow.”
Eventually they managed to wrap up their small talk and Ursula made one final request, “Tell Pete Dad’s waiting for his rent. He’s a little behind again.”
Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes at what he considered to be a “normal” concern in Peter’s life. Once Ursula had returned to her own apartment, Harry turned back to Peter’s apartment. Just as he raised his fist to knock on his door, the door swung open, with Peter facing him and looking sheepish. “I… thought I heard something,” he said by way of explanation.
Harry laughed as he walked inside. “Spidey sense warning you about me again? I promise I’m not here to kill you, Pete.”
Peter laughed as well as he closed his door and turned towards him. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”
They walked over to Peter’s couch and sat down on it next to each other. Harry sat with his hands in his lap, not knowing what else to do with them. Peter sat smiling at him fondly as he waited for Harry to speak.
Suddenly Harry remembered what he’d brought with him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the peanut M&M’s, smiling sheepishly. “Stopped at a corner store on the way here. Thought I’d surprise you.”
Peter took the candy from him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Peter… it’s a candy, not a Rolls Royce. It’s not a big deal.”
Peter laughed and placed the candy on the table in front of him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just didn’t expect it, I guess. I don’t even remember the last time we bought each other presents.”
Harry thought for a little bit. “I bought you something for Christmas a few years ago, didn’t I? A drawing pad and some markers, right?”
“Oh, yeah… of course.”
“Did you ever use them? I remember you used to show me your comic book sketches all the time in high school.”
Peter nodded, looking happy to talk about this. “Yeah, I use them every now and then. I like drawing—” Peter stopped himself, looking like he was about to admit something he shouldn’t. “Uh, I draw random stuff, I guess.”
Harry’s interest was piqued, however. “No, tell me. What do you like drawing?”
Peter looked reluctant to admit it. He seemed to fight with himself for a few seconds before sighing. “I guess I draw Spider-Man sometimes.” Defensively, he added, “I like the costume design.”
Somehow this softened Harry’s heart. It was easy to forget that Spider-Man was actually an ordinary guy who had character flaws and imperfections. It was also sweet that Peter would do such a thing. Feeling a bit like exposing something he never had before, he admitted, “Honestly, Spidey’s red-and-blues are pretty cool. And you gotta have some confidence to be able to pull off spandex.”
“It’s a good thing that spider bite gave me my physique, then.”
“I was bitten by a spider once. All it gave me was a rash.”
The conversation died down as they sat with one another in comfortable silence. Harry had missed sitting with Peter like this in his apartment. Despite it being simple, he found the poor foundation and broken door somewhat charming. Besides, Peter had made it into a home of his own with the addition of photos and paintings on his walls. He still felt bad that he couldn’t help Peter find a better place to live. He almost felt like he owed it to him now, after all that Peter had done for him.
Feeling like he should open up to him about what had happened earlier that day, Harry said, “Something happened… earlier. At my house.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah…” Harry said. Then feeling a bit silly for some reason, he added, “I don’t wanna make you worry or anything. It’s no big deal. It’s happened befo—”
“Harry,” Peter interrupted gently, placing a hand on Harry’s. “You can tell me. What happened?”
Harry swallowed hard, nodding to himself. Of course he shouldn’t worry about telling him. He could always tell Peter about things like this. He always had. “Right. Sorry. I had an… episode.”
It seemed to take Peter a few seconds to realize what he meant. “Ah,” he said. “That sounds rough. Was it bad?”
Harry pursed his lips, knowing that his mental illness was a difficult topic to tread upon. He was gradually coming to terms with it, in his own way, though. He knew he’d have to live with it and it would possibly never go away. He was afraid he’d freak out in front of Peter because of it one day, frightening him. “It was how it usually was. I was afraid I’d see my dad again. It felt like I wasn’t alone there… it was so eerie, Pete.”
Peter was quiet for a bit. “That sounds scary. I’m sorry you have to deal with this. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have that condition.” Peter paused. “I just want you to know that you can overcome it and not let it control your life.” Peter looked a bit nervous, as though he were hoping he was saying the right thing.
Harry processed his words and felt that it did help somewhat in alleviating the ache in his heart that his condition caused. In a way, he had accepted that it was simply a part of who he was, even if he didn’t want it to define him. Perhaps he’d never be okay with being frightened by his paranoia every now and then, but maybe he could realize that he wasn’t alone in this. No matter what it felt like.
“I just… I feel scared sometimes. That I could still become him… my dad.”
“Harry…”
“I know. It’s dumb. Sorry. It’s just me being paranoid, probably.” Harry sighed and dropped his face into his hands. It was alarming how many problems he had in his life. He was trying to deal with them all, but it sometimes felt truly intimidating.
“It’s not dumb,” Peter said. “It’s a common fear, worrying about becoming like your parents.”
Harry smirked as he raised his head. “Not everyone’s dad was the Green Goblin, though.”
“Even still,” Peter insisted.
“God, I hate living in that house nowadays. It’s so big… and creepy.”
“Well, if you ever need a break, you know who to call,” Peter said softly.
It was sweet of his friend to make the offer, one he’d made countless times to him in the past. He’d often denied him in the past, even if he didn’t know why. But now he felt an itching to actually take him up on the offer. He wanted to make up for lost opportunities.
“You’re not your dad, Harry,” Peter whispered. “Trust me. You’re nothing like him. You’re… a hero.”
Maybe it was him feeling shy about it, but he couldn’t believe he’d heard Spider-Man describe him in such a way. He couldn’t help but like the feeling, as his lips tugged upward into a smile. It made his chest puff up with pride and made him so grateful that he’d lived to hear it. It wasn’t like he needed outside confirmation or anything… he just thought it was sweet.
He thought back to the girl at the mall, who’d made him feel more like a villain. The contrast between the two was so glaringly evident that it could have been disorienting.
“I… I’m sorry about the other day,” Harry said, finally. “I should have said something… explained why I wanted to leave.”
Peter nodded, looking sympathetic. “I kind of had an idea of what it could have been,” he admitted.
Harry cringed. “Was I that obvious?”
“It’s not that you were obvious. It’s just that it seemed so out of the blue, that I figured that had to be the reason.”
Harry lowered his eyes, feeling shy. He should have known that someone as intelligent as Peter would have been able to figure out what had happened to him. Peter was emotionally intelligent as well. He understood people in a way that Harry didn’t.
“What did they say?” Peter asked gently.
Harry felt a stab of shame just remembering the incident. Now he was going to have to repeat what had happened out loud. Ugh. “Someone played a prank on me. Basically pretended to find me attractive when it was obvious that they didn’t.”
Peter frowned. Harry watched as his friend’s features shifted into one of anger. “That’s cruel,” was all Peter said.
The old Harry would have probably felt defensive somehow, would have taken Peter’s response the wrong way. That it was a confirmation that it was something to be upset about. Instead, Harry smiled softly as he accepted what Peter said. It was true, after all.
“Yeah. Some people, huh? They really get a kick out of hitting you where it hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” Peter said. His eyes were downcast and he looked absolutely forlorn.
Harry shifted a little, feeling like he should say something. He wasn’t upset, but he felt like he didn’t want Peter to get the wrong idea about him.
“I’m not here for your pity, Peter,” Harry said carefully. “I don’t need you to tell me that you feel bad about what happened. Or that you wish people weren’t so mean.”
Peter looked a bit desperate for a moment. “Then what do you want me to say, Harry? That you shouldn’t care what people think? That I still love you for who you are and your scars will never change that? I don’t know how to make this better. I took away half of your face and now you’re living half of a life because of it.” Peter hunched over beside him and clasped his hands together tightly, so tightly that Harry could tell it was probably hurting him. “All I know is that you’re my best friend and I love you, scars or no scars. Nothing will ever change that.”
Harry sat silently as he processed Peter’s words. It’s not that he needed some kind of reassurance from him… so why exactly was he here? Besides coming to tell him what had happened, anyway. Peter was great at helping him with his problems, but he wasn’t a miracle worker. He couldn’t fix him like magic. Harry was the one who needed to overcome his insecurities and be able to face the world and all of his newfound adversaries.
And, in the end, he needed to do that alone.
“I know, Peter,” he said, grasping Peter’s knee and squeezing it. “I know.” Realizing that he still had his mask on, Harry took it off and placed it on the couch beside him.
Peter shifted so that he was completely facing him. His focus was sharp as he said, “Harry, listen to me. I know you’re going to say I don’t know what it feels like, and you’re right. I don’t. But just think about this, okay? People don’t know that Spider-Man is human. For all they know he’s an alien of some sort. I’ve seen the articles in the Daily Bugle. Jameson honestly thinks he’s some kind of a mutant or monster.” Peter reached to the table and picked up Harry’s keys before he could stop him. Peter took hold of the Spider-Man keychain and looked at him knowingly. “And lots of people love Spider-Man, Harry. Despite not even knowing if he looks like everyone else behind that mask. They don’t care.”
Harry frowned, processing this. He supposed that Peter was right. Although he hadn’t been a fan of Spider-Man until very recently, he still understood what he was trying to say. “I guess… you’re right. Thanks.”
“I know I’m right.”
And yet… even as they agreed with each other, Harry felt that something wasn’t sitting right with him. He felt it deep in the pit of his stomach. It was the reason why he’d come to Peter’s with his mask on. It was why he couldn’t completely pass Peter’s tests.
Harry hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to hurt Peter by somewhat rejecting the lesson he was trying to teach him, but he felt strongly about something that had been bothering him. Taking a deep shuddering breath he plunged forward, “Pete, I feel like I have to say something… I… I think instead of trying to face my fear of going out without a mask, I should instead try accepting that the mask is what I need in order to feel okay when I’m around others. I know it sounds weird, but I need to learn that it’s okay to be different and not show all of yourself to everyone.”
Peter’s face creased as he seemed to absorb Harry’s words. He looked deep in thought for a little while before he finally nodded to himself. Smiling at Harry, he said, “Huh… I actually never thought about it that way. That’s really interesting.”
“I’m sorry… I don’t mean to reject you and your attempts to help me.”
Peter chuckled. “No, Harry, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I was the one who couldn’t see things from a different point of view.” Peter smiled softly. “Thanks for teaching me something new.”
Harry rolled his eyes upward after a moment as he thought about something. Laughing, he said, “You had just better not make any Two-Face jokes. Ever.”
Peter looked shocked that Harry would suggest such a thing. The emotion was displayed so openly that Harry almost felt embarrassed for him. “Harry! You know I’d never do that.”
Harry turned away from Peter and looked at a photo that hung on Peter’s wall: one of him and Mary Jane sitting in an ice cream parlor together. A banana split sat on the table in front of them as they grinned at the camera. They looked so in love that anyone could see it.
Something fluttered within Harry’s heart as a yearning was revived in him once again. He wanted to hold and be held, to love and laugh and live, as corny as it sounded. He wanted to face the world as bravely as he had in that battle against Sandman and Venom. He was sure he could do it if he just believed in himself. If he just kept trying.
And he would keep trying. If not for himself, then for his friends who cared so much for him. He’d do anything for them, like he said… even die for them.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “I know.”