"In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side with your hands between your thighs. But I crumble completely when you cry, it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye. I'm always just about to go and spoil the surprise, take my hands off of your eyes too soon."
The edge looked inviting to the now faded blonde boy. His eyes were glassed over as he made his way over to the end of the building, his building. His bare feet were at the edge now. He looked down, closing his eyes, visualising the peace he'd feel once he was finally dead. He took a deep breath and let himself fall forward. He thought he'd see his life flash before his eyes or even feel terrified of hitting the concrete, but all he saw was black. And with that he felt arms around him, pulling him in. He felt the person lift him up and back to the rooftop. Once away from the edge the arms holding him let him go and he fell against the rooftop, scraping his palms in an attempt to catch himself. His hollow blue eyes fluttered open and his mouth formed an 'o' miming his silent gasp. There Peter was, in his suit, the mask now off. The look in his chocolate eyes pained Harry and shook him to his core. "What the fuck were you thinking?" Peter demanded, his voice hoarse. "No, don't even answer that because clearly you weren't thinking. Do you ever think about what you do, Harry, or is everything a joke to you?"
But Harry didn't know what to say, how do you tell your former friend you're sorry but you need to die because it's for the best? "Why?" He finally asked, his voice a hoarse whisper, his throat felt dry and the bruising around it from his prior suicide attempt wasn't helping. "Why...did you save me? I don't deserve that...I deserve to die." Speaking this out loud didn't make him feel better, no he felt worse. Hearing them made it all more true. "Just let me die." With those broken words the boy let out a sob. It was Peters turn to stare at him in shock, and with this stare he finally realised the once great Harry Osborn has fallen into nothing. Harry was wearing a long sleeved sweater and pants which he was now grateful for, he wanted to hide from Peter's gaze.
"Harry..." Peter began trying to calm the boy down, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him more than he already was. But Peter never took note of the faded blondes suffering. He was too caught up in his own bubble, the one ruled by Gwen's death. A death he still blamed on Harry. But coincidentally this death, the one that hurt Peter, was the one causing Harry to fall deeper into his self-destructive behavior. Harry wasn't in control of himself. No, Harry was sick. Harry was sick and he was going to die. He was scared, the drugs and alcohol no longer could drown his overwhelming fear and the one person who could help him refused. The boy truly went mad, and after leading up to Gwen's death he was sent to Ravencroft where they cured him enough to be half the man he was. Though he had killed most of that part with his continued substance abuse and continued further into his self destruction.
"No, Peter, it was me. It was all me and you need to kill me. I killed her." He shakily stood up and grabbed the front of his old friends suit, the fabric in his clenched fist. "Peter, please kill me." He practically begged. "I don't want to be here anymore...I don't want this anymore." His legs fell back under him and Peter quickly caught Harry. He knelt down and let the boy bury his face in his chest as he cried. He let the boy cry, holding him gently. Any hate he felt towards Harry dissolved completely in that moment. He whispered soothing nothing in his ear and after what felt like hours Harry had fallen asleep.
Harry woke up in his bed, his head pounded as he sat up. He yawned, his throat hoarse, and stretched his arms out. This is when he noticed his sweater was no longer on and all he was wearing was a thin cream colored tank top. He sighed, the day before being a blur. Harry finally got out of bed and took his jeans off replacing them with a pair of black harem jogging wandered out of his room and into the living room, his eyes widened as he saw none other than Peter Parker sitting on his couch. At this moment he remembered the rooftop. "I didn't want to leave you alone." Peter said quietly, his eyes on Harry's marred arms.
Harry laughed dryly at this and shook his head, he slipped his hands in his pockets and rolled his shoulders back. "I'm fine alone, I've always been alone." His tone was light but the words held heavy in the air. He looked down and away from Peter, to avoid the hurt that was destined to be in eyes.
"Harry, you know that's not what I wanted...I just I'm sorry man." He said quietly. "I didn't realize you were so sorry." Harry's eyes flickered up and searched his expression for some kind of lie. When he didn't see one he just sighed dramatically. "And you're not fine alone, Harry. I don't want to lose you, I don't want you to die. Please, you're all I have left. I need you." His voice was soft but it felt like a knife in the blue eyed boys gut.
Harry felt his anxiety spike and slowly walked over to the couch and sat beside Peter. He rested his head on the boy's shoulder and closed his eyes. "I'm still here, somewhere." His voice a little louder than a whisper. Peter put an arm around the boys shoulder and pulled him into his side, kissing the top of the boys head.
"It's gonna be okay, Har, I'm here now. I'm here now." The taller male felt like it was important to tell Harry this, to get him to understand that he wasn't alone. Not anymore anyway. He rubbed the boys shoulder gently, his touch reaffirming this promise.
Harry felt a tear slide down his cheek. He was so touched, so happy to no longer be alone. But with this new found happiness came the dread of it being taken away. "I didn't mean to hurt her...I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt." His voice hoarse and broken. Peter felt shivers run through his body, how could Harry slip away like this without him noticing?
Peter nodded slowly, and again kissed the top of his head. "I know, Har, I know. It's okay. I forgive you. I forgive you." He said, trying to will the hurt from Harry. He felt responsible. Maybe if he helped him sooner or figured out what was going on he could've stopped everything from happening. He could've saved Harry from himself like he should've been doing the year prior when Gwen died, when a part of Harry died.
"It wasn't you, Parker. It was me." He murmured nuzzling into the brunette's side. "But it doesn't matter anymore, we have a whole year to catch up on." He said looking up at Peter with a shy smile, his eyes suddenly full of a child's mischievous glint.