PETER PARKER

I can't fail him. He's my friend. I can't.

Those words circulated over my head like a sad, gray cloud. After leaving Oscorp, I went straight home, I just wanted to be alone and be able to think. Figure out a way to help Harry, how to still keep him motivated once I tell him that I won't be giving him my blood. But there was no easy way of telling him this, he was convinced my blood would save him, telling him no in such desperate time would invoke anger in him.

I pushed open the door as I went inside, locking the door behind me. "Aunt May?" I called as I noticed her keys on the small table when I hung my coat.

My eyes scanned the kitchen and the living room, there was no sighting of her, so I climbed up the stairs. "May?"

That's when I noticed her, I stood by the stairs and noticed the look of concern on her face as she sat in my bed. My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach at the realization, I remember going nuts one night and turning my wall into a research board. Pictures of my parents, pieces of newspapers where they spoke of my dad and his job at Oscorp, photos of Ramsey, and information about who Hayek was. I tried to figure out why they were connected, why she needed Rasmey, and what she was planning on doing.

I pushed my door further, so I could walk in, my face showed panic and embarrassment. "What are you doing?"

Aunt May motioned at the wall, her eyes bloodshot and the tip of her nose, red. "When did you do this?"

Her voice wobbled as she spoke, I took a quick glance at the door before slowly walking up to her. "There's something you're not telling me, Aunt May. Every time I mention my parents, your eyes go down." She looked away as if hiding something. "I know that you're not telling me something, you lie to me. I know you love me..."

My knees kissed the surface of my bedroom floor, my eyes softened as my hands gently took Aunt May's hands.

"I don't know..." She lied, her eyes never once met my eyes, they were trained on her lap.

A long, tired sigh escaped my lips before I let go of one of her hands and gently grabbed her chin, making her look at me. "I know you love me, but you do." Her chin wobbled, but she tried to remain composed. "You have to tell me, Aunt May. It's my father."

She sucked in a deep breath as if my words had offended her. "Yes, he was your father, but that didn't seem to stop him from leaving you..."

"I need the truth." That was all I had to say, no more lying, no more secrets about them. I need to know the truth.

She nodded, breathing in as she thought of what to say before beginning. "The truth is... your parents left you here, on our doorstep. And you were this little boy whose whole world was turned upside down with no explanation." I squeezed her hands gently and her eyes darted down to them.

"We did the best we could, your Uncle Ben and me." She nodded to herself before meeting my eyes. "I mean, who else was gonna care for you and protect you and worry about you? Your father? No. I was the one who wiped your nose and made you brush your teeth and do your homework and wash your dirty underwear. Me!" I smiled sadly at her, I let go of one hand and held her cheek. "Your stupid, non-scientific aunt, who doesn't know how to make ends meet, who has to take nursing classes with twenty-two-year-old kids, so I can pay for you to go to college." She leaned back and covered her face as she quietly sobbed. "And I don't know how to do this without Ben!"

She broke down and my heart clenched, I placed my hands on either side of her arms and softly squeezed them. "I don't know how! And...and you're dreaming about your perfect father, who was never here." She wiped her tears and looked at me sternly. "No! No, I won't tell you. You're my boy. As far as I'm concerned, you're my boy, and I won't hurt you."

My finger wiped a new tear away, both of my hands cupped her face and forced her to look at me. "I'm your boy," I nodded in agreement, "you're my everything. You're enough, you're more than enough." More tears rushed down her cheeks as I said those words. "That's not what this is about. Don't get that twisted. I love you so much."

I leaned in and kissed her forehead, she sniffed. "I know."

"It's okay," I whispered while leaning back. "It's okay. Aunt May, I need to know."

"Alright." She sighed in defeat. "I'll tell you everything I know. But it will hurt you."

I nodded. "Okay."

"A few days after the funeral, two government men came to see us. They said, 'the genetic research that your father was doing with Norman Osborn was very valuable and that people would pay a lot for it,' and that's why he ran off with it." Frowned, that didn't sound right. "They said he was a traitor. I couldn't believe it, Peter. They told us he betrayed his best friend, all of us, for the money."

I leaned back and got on my feet, running a hand over my hair as I turned my back on her to stare at the only family picture I had with them. "I don't... I don't get it." I half-turn to her. "No. This doesn't make sense."

"Yes, I know." She agreed. "I know, I didn't believe it either. I didn't believe it..."

"This doesn't make any sense," I argued.

"Peter, I don't know." She shrugged, showing me that it was once hard for her to believe top.

"For so long I would play it over and over and over in my head, what had I missed? What had I missed? He was just this normal, unassuming guy. He wore the same ratty lab coat for twenty years, he took the D train to work at seven every morning, and came home at six every night." She recalled, her eyes had this faraway look as she relieved those days. "I don't know. Maybe everyone has a part of themselves they hide. Even from the people they love."

She quietly says the last part, I stared out of my window, immersed in my thoughts. "Peter. Peter."

All these years and this was the truth? This? That my father was a fraud and my mother was his witness? My heart rejected the idea, but my mind contemplated it, and I wasn't sure what to believe. Something in me told me this must be a smokescreen, Oscorp always ended on the winning side of everything. I allowed myself to think that they paid those men to tell lies to Uncle Ben and Aunt May about my father, it wouldn't be the first time they did something like that.

That was a plausible theory, but then it dawned on me, what if this was a product of denial? What if these thoughts were conjured by the inability to accept the truth I so tirelessly begged for?

"I'm sorry, honey, but that's the truth." Aunt May pulled me out of my thoughts, I looked at her with watery eyes. "I told you this was gonna hurt you. This is why I didn't want to tell you."

I blinked, and a few tears rolled down my cheeks, I quickly brushed them away and smiled sadly at Aunt May. I took a seat next to her, she leaned against my side as I encircled one arm around her. "It's okay, Aunt May. You did nothing wrong. I thank you for telling me, I needed to learn the truth."

Perhaps it wasn't wise for me to meet up with Harry after what I had just learned, I wasn't in the right mind, but I chose to push it aside. I had to focus on him right now, I'll deal with my problems when I have the time to do so, but right now my best friend is dying and the only thing that seemed to be able to save him was my blood.

And I was going to tell him no.

Donning my Spider-Man suit, I swung across the many streets of Manhattan, arriving at the Osborn penthouse. I noticed the window was open, unknowingly inviting me in, and I found myself wondering if he had left it open on purpose. Regardless of the intent, I climbed inside and noticed him laying on his sofa, empty bottles of whiskeys were scattered on the table along with empty and half-empty glasses.

Harry was sound asleep, probably hungover.

"Mr. Osborn."

I watched him wake up with a start, he rubbed his tired eyes and glanced around the place, trying to locate the sound.

"Look up." His ocean eyes looked up and took notice of me as I lowered myself to the ground, now I stood in front of him.

A smile took over his pale features, I could see the rash on his neck, it looked like it hurt. "I think you're looking for me."

"I cannot believe my eyes." Harry chuckles, with his hand he offered me to take a seat, I sat adjacent to him. "Just the man I wanted to see." He poured himself more whiskey and offered me some, I politely declined with a head shake. "You uh... talked to Peter?"

"I did, yes." I began, Harry nodded, eyes eager to know my answer. "I want to help you, Mr. Osborn. I really, really do."

Harry visibly relaxed, the next words that left my lips broke my heart. "But I can't give you my blood, not right now."

Harry's hopeful smile drops, I watch him lean backward and deflate at the sudden disappointing news that he wasn't at all expecting.

"Excuse me?"

"It's too dangerous." I began reasoning. "If our blood is incompatible, you could die. You want to be saved, Mr. Osborn, I don't want to kill you in the process of doing so."

"I'm already dying." He said through gritted teeth, he set his drink aside as he angled himself, so we were somehow facing each other. He continued to negotiate. "Your blood can't make me die anymore."

I shook my head, trying to get him to understand. "But it could do something worse." I inquired. "Perhaps if we could run a few tests first, just to make sure there won't be any collateral damage to you. Maybe then I'll feel more comfortable cooperating with you."

"You don't get it, do you?" Harry spat, my heart clenched seeing him act this way. "I have no time. My father spent fourteen years of his life, all dedicated to research, to learn how to self-heal and cure his disease. In those fourteen years, all he accomplished was nothing. His research didn't save him. He failed, and I'm not about to go down that road too. I'm young! Why is it so hard for people to understand that I don't want to go like this? Why is it so hard to have a real friend's support?"

I looked away, he might have been talking to Spider-Man, but his words pierced my heart. "I'm sorry, Mr. Osborn, I truly am. But I think you should look for another alternative."

He grabbed his drink and sprang up, he threw the glass against the wall and I heard the fragile glass shattering. "There isn't another way! This is the way! It's this or nothing! Your blood or my death!"

Harry screamed, I couldn't bear to see him like this, so I kept my eyes away from him. I heard him pant, he walked towards the chimney and passed back and forth, I could feel his brain cells turning this conversation around and finding a weak point where he could attack and insert his negotiation.

"Alright, Mr. Spider-Man, I think I know what this is about." He suddenly stopped and stood in the middle of the living room, right on the other side of the coffee table, in front of me. "How much?"

I frowned, repeating his question. "How much what?"

"How much do you want?" He pressed. "You name it, you want a boat? You want a plane? You want money? How much do you want?"

In a flat voice, I said, "I don't want your money."

"Come on, everybody wants my money!" Harry barked, his hands turning into fists as he threw them in the air out of desperation.

"I don't." I deadpanned.

Harry had no more counterattacks, he took a seat on his couch, sinking on it as he looked at me with such disappointment. A look I will never be able to forget, I could see the spark of hope dimming until it completely vanished from his light irises.

I had killed his silver lining. Spider-Man... and me.

"I thought..." He looked at me dejectedly, "I thought you were supposed to save people. I thought that's what you do, you save people's lives. You're just..." His voice faltered, "You're just gonna let me die."

No, Harry, I'm trying to stop you from dying faster.

"Being what I am... isn't about how many lives I save, Mr. Osborn," I commented. "It's about doing the right thing, even when it may not look like it. I'm not letting you die, I'm not abandoning you, I'm trying to protect you."

Harry was so hellbent on living, he was willing to rule out the consequences of such experiments. He was blindly ignoring his common sense, the unnecessary risks he's willing to put himself through. I could've died, but by I miracle my blood happened to be compatible with the spider's venom. I could've ended up in the worst shape and that's what Harry couldn't see, but how could I blame him?

Everybody is desperate to live when they know their death is certain and catching up to them at a faster pace.

"No. No, you are not." He shakes his head, clearly not believing my good intentions. "You're trying to protect yourself."

I nodded, understanding that anything I said would only fall on deaf ears. "Nothing that I say will make you believe me. I'm sorry."

With that, I pushed myself up the couch and shot a web at the window before pulling myself up.

"You're a fraud, Spider-Man!" Those were the last words I heard as I left his home, my heart aching and my eyes involuntarily blurred with tears as I swung around the city.

You can try and save people, but you can't decide who lives and who dies.

But this was my burden, I was a hero, and yet I couldn't save everyone. I couldn't save those who mattered to me, those close to home.

Failing to save someone does not mean you failed at being a hero.

🅷🅾🅻🅰

I don't think I've said
this enough, but I absolutely
hated how Peter straight out
abandoned Harry. I hope that
in the new Spiderman trilogy
(if they decide to include Harry)
they make it more interesting
and give that duo a strong bond
just like they did with Peter and
Ned.

(I HOPE they cast Timotheé Chalamet)
I would love to see him in the MCU
and it's doable ever since the mind
wipe spell, they can give Peter a new
friend! (Gosh I hope they include Miles
Morales also, I can't wait for him!)

Stay safe mis amores, specially those
who are under tsunami alert I hope
nothing bad happens, I'll be praying 4 U!

If you want to vent or are feeling negatively
about this whole thing then know you can

always dm me, I'm here for you!

🤍🤍