"Will do!" He called out. He cleaned himself and washed his hair before stepping out and drying off. He went over to grab his clothes and bag. Once checking to make sure he had everything, he checked his phone, smiling at the message and heading home. He took the stairs and went home.
When he arrived, Aunt May wasn't in the kitchen, so he went and checked her bedroom. She was asleep.
A few hours after Harry left his house, he entered this office with a feeling he couldn't place while looking out the window at the great view of the city—a weekly ritual he had started after moving back to NY few months earlier. Given the circumstances he'd been feeling a bit under the weather, sitting at his desk he sighed while privately hoping the fresh summer air and sunlight would do him good.
It didn't. as the lunch hour neared, Harry began to get chills and his skin felt strangely sensitive, like when someone's coming down with the flu. On top of that, it felt like he had pulled a muscle in his back or chest; when he breathed or stretched certain ways, Harry got shooting pains across his body. It was the curse taking effect.
Over the course of the day, Harry's body continued betraying him in weird ways. Painful red marks appeared under his armpit and lower back; at first he chalked it up to another random attack that would gradually dissipate, but when they started growing in both size and pain, he knew that his Dad's final warning proved more eerily true than it did before he passed. Despite trying to foam-rolling away the strange muscular aches in his back and chest, Harry swore and threw random object about his office to the point he feared he'd pass out—his back felt like it was on fire. At this point, Harry was marveling at his Devil's Luck: Who pulls a muscle, gets the flu, and gets attacked by bugs (or a really terrible nightmare attack) all in the same few days? He knew there was only one person he could trust with this. Reaching for his cell phone with a trembling pale hand.
Peter cleaned the kitchen and sweep the house, making sure to clean everything up. He grabbed his headphones and listened to some music as he cleaned. He cleaned the bathrooms, his room and did his laundry before Aunt May woke up.
She walked into the kitchen to find a breakfast already laid out for her. She smiled and looked for Peter. He had already left to go to the local library. At least that's what he wrote in his note. He was actually doing his hero thing, web slinging around the city and looking for any crime taking place in order to stop it. He was honestly surprised that he hadn't gotten hurt badly the entire time he had been Spider-Man, but he brushed away the thought, not wanting to jinx it.
He swung by Oscorps, looking to see if he could find Harry. He couldn't at a quick pass by, so he swung away towards the heart of New York City. He sat on top of an office building as he waited for something to happen. He was bored and found himself wishing he was back in that hotel room with Harry.
He heard his phone ringing and quickly got up to find a place to hide so he could talk in private.
"Pete, its me." Harry's voice more hoarse and sickly than he ever remembered it sounding in his life. The fear of anybody walking in and seeing him in the nearly zombie-like manner he was was enough to make him shatter into pieces. He needed to tell Peter what was going on. After two rings, the sound of his lover's voice slowed his racing heart, which hung on the verge of giving out. His Dad's words had become a noose digging deeper into his neck and he was determined to cut it once and for all.
"Harry? What's wrong? You sound sick." He said. "Want me to bring you some soup or something?" He offered gently. He was worried about Harry now, not wanting him to be sick or hurt. He listened to Harry, pulling his mask halfway over his face and putting the phone on speaker as he quickly ordered some food for himself and Harry for pickup. He was going to Harry's office to bring him the food and comfort him. Screw whomever attempted to stop him.
"Not really, Pete. I'm dying, but I think you can help save my life." Harry coughed barely able to finish his sentence. "Please hurry, there's something I gotta show you." He hung up groaning as knots twisted within his stomach. The pain more excruciating than it ever been. Had it been the same for his Dad? The thought one he didn't want to dwell on instead more of the hope his trust and love for Peter and what Spider-Man represents will be enough. Just enough to help him conquer the curse that continually sunk its claws inside him.
