I wake up to my father's face. His graying red hairs stick out in strange directions. Red eyes travel up and down my body. There's water all around me. It's some sort of liquid oxygen chamber. The teal lights inside make everything an unnerving greenish color. All sorts of tubes and wires are attached to me along with a breathing mask. I barely manage to move my right index finger.
"Harry?" my father says, unsure if I'm actually awake.
In my head, I smile. I want to nod. Instead I blink. At least I can do that. He places his hands on the glass and stares up at my open eyes. I can't tell if he's crying. I want to ask him why I'm here. This doesn't make any sense.
"You're awake," he whispers to himself.
Suddenly, he runs in the opposite direction. With all of my being I want to yell for him, but I can't. My arms and legs feel so heavy. Just moving my hand slightly forward is a chore. My fingers brush the glass as I fall unconscious again.
Soft, linen clouds seem to create a cocoon around my body. Two large pillows support my heavy head. One big red blanket greets me as I cast my gaze towards my feet. This is my bed. I must be home.
Groggily, I pull one hand out from the covers and rub my eyes. My muscles feel stiff. Turning my head towards my window, I see the sunlight dissipating around the cityscape. Was that whole liquid chamber thing a dream?
I sit up in my bed. The rest of my body is just as stiff. I flex my fingers and toes, stretch out my legs and arms, and finally stand. Now I'm sore instead of stiff. Wobbling a little as I walk, I get to my door frame. I don't see my father in his room or his office. In fact, the penthouse is really quiet.
"Dad?" I say into the empty hallway. My voice sounds quiet and timid.
Cautiously, I tiptoe down the stairs, unsure of my footing. He's not in the living room. The lights aren't even on down here. I find the switch. Bright white light rains down on the piano, the flat screen, and every piece of modern art needed to make the large room feel less empty. There's a strange trail of crumbs at the entrance of the kitchen.
I kneel down. Touching the rough particles, I realize that they're not food but ruble. I stare into the dark kitchen. My father might be in there. Turning on the lights, all I notice is a broken countertop and a strip of red fabric on a sliver of it. Web designs cover it. Spider-man. I walk over to the scene. Did my father attack Spider-man?
As I stare at this piece of his suit, I start to remember something. Spider-man and I were fighting Doctor Octopus and I was in my Patrioteer suit. Something came at me. I remember losing myself. It was a white symbiote. Staring down at my hands, I wonder if it's still inside of me. They always seem to be.
"Harry?! You're awake!" my father exclaims from behind me.
He walks over to me wearing his Iron Patriot armor. I freeze as he hugs me.
"What happened? Why are you—?" I ask.
Nonchalantly, he replies, "Nothing, don't worry about this mess."
He leads me into the living room. Something feels off about him. That broken counter in the kitchen concerns me. The piece of Spider-man's suit is still in my hand. I quickly shove it into my pocket.
"I'm glad that you're awake. When you were in that coma I was so worried about you. Octavius is a very dangerous man. I should have never let you out of my sight with him out there."
"And the symbiote I picked up?"I ask.
My father bites his lip. Looking away from me, he sighs.
"It's gone, right? Dad, that thing isn't still inside of me, is it?"
"Harry, I think you need more rest. You should eat something and go back to bed."
I clench my fists. Why is he avoiding my questions? There's something really off going on. I decide to go with it and grab a yogurt from the fridge.
Once I climb the stairs, I make my way up to the top of the penthouse instead of my room. I quickly spoon the yogurt into my mouth. What is he hiding from me? From the way he's dodging my questions, it's like he's saying that that new symbiote is still attached to me. That doesn't make any sense, though. Shield would never let me go if it was. But that scene in the kitchen. Maybe Spider-man knows.
