Author's Note: ::in a cheesy announcer's voice:: And now for the not so startling conclusion to 'Sins of the Father'. ::snickers:: Ok. Sorry. Just wanted to say something funny - or maybe not so funny o.O - in my last author's note. Well, anyway, here it is. The end of months of hard work. And I miss writing Harry and Norman already. Oh well. There's always room for a sequal. ...And before I let you go about reading, a special shout out goes to all the people who have bothered to read this craptastic fic. Thank you. All of you. ^_^

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Three and a half weeks had come and gone since the incident in the junkyard. Three and a half long, painful weeks in which Harry found himself falling away from Peter. It had started first with the fact that he had to lie about what had happened to his father.

"The Green Goblin kidnapped me, dad found out and tried to save me. And the Goblin killed him," he had said, regretting every syllable of it. He had never had to lie to Peter before. Even in the most extreme of cases. But he wasn't willing to let anyone - besides Spiderman - know that his father had been a lunatic. It was too much for him, let alone the rest of the world.

After that, it had simply gone downhill.

Harry now avoided Peter whenever he could, working himself to death or making up some excuse when the other boy tried to plan something for them to do. Why, the younger Osborn distanced himself from his friend was far from a mystery, but it had taken until today for him to admit it to himself. Simply put, he had been avoiding his long-time friend out of fear. Fear that something horrible would happen to him, as had the rest of the people that meant anything to him. Fear that Peter would shun him for lying if he ever found out. And that realization sparked another.

He couldn't be around Peter anymore, at all. He needed to get out of the apartment they shared.
So, slowly, he had started moving his things out of his room. Slowly he had started to sever all ties with the man he had considered his best friend for only God knew how long. Now his room was empty. Now all it came down to was telling Peter he was gone, but that he would still keep up his end of the rent so that the other boy could keep the apartment. Sure, it hurt. It would hurt both of them. But if it saved Peter more pain on account of him in the future, then that was all that had mattered.

Now he stood in the living room area, pen in hand, ready to write some half-hearted apology to the other boy - who was conveniently not at home - explaining that he was leaving. Permanently.
And just as Harry had begun writing that letter, Peter walked in, one arm in a sling and the other holding a small package. It had hurt to lie to Harry about his injuries, just like it had hurt when Harry had lied to him about his father. But then, he reminded himself, he'd made no move to tell Harry that he was Spiderman. So they were both hurting each other. He sighed as he placed the package down on the table, having not noticed the other man in the room, and started to open it, finally removing a sparkling new picture frame. So he'd paid more than it was worth, that was fine. All he wanted was to preserve his cherished memories.

"Oh, Harry!" He called cheerfully, finally spotting his closest friend and companion standing in the middle of their living room. "What are you doing?"

"I... I'm leaving Pete."

"What?" Peter's hold on the frame loosened slightly. "What do you mean?"

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes sliding closed for a moment as he considered how to word what he said next. Then, with a sigh, his light eyes flicked open. "I'm leaving... going back home. I can't live here anymore."

"But... but why?"

"I... I just can't," he responded.

God, how he just wanted to tell Peter everything right then. About his father... about Spiderman saving his life... about how he really got his wounds. Everything and anything that had gotten in the way of their friendship in the last couple of weeks, he wanted to share it with his friend. Maybe that way he could stay, maybe that way he could salvage what he friendship he had left. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. If not for himself, then for his father.

"Look, Peter, I'll keep paying my half of the rent... so you don't have to worry about the apartment or anything..."

"Why are you running away from me?" Peter blurted out, smacking himself mentally for speaking before he thought about what he was saying. But in reality, he really did want to know why Harry was running away. He'd thought he whole incident would strengthen their friendship, like his father's first 'death' had. Why now did he decide to give up on their friendship? Peter wanted and needed to know, and he didn't plan on letting his friend leave until his questions were answered.

"I'm not." It was a lie. Another in so many.

"You're lying to me. Why?"

Taking another deep breath and this time holding it, the younger Osborn set down his pen and notepad. He couldn't lie to Peter anymore. It wasn't right. Peter deserved to know as much as he could tell him. And besides, he doubted his companion would let him leave if he didn't at least share some of the truth. Letting his breath out in a harsh sigh, he started slowly, his eyes downcast, "My father died because of me, Peter. Maybe the Green Goblin did the actual damage, but he came looking for me. It was -my- fault."

Another half-truth. Peter couldn't know what had really happened... that he had the blood of Norman Osborn on his hands. At least what he said next wouldn't have to be anything less than the truth.

"My mother also died because of me. In childbirth. ...I think that's why dad resented me so much. Because I had the only thing he loved more than Oscorp last. Mary Jane almost died because of me. Your Aunt May almost died because of me. -You- almost died because of me. And I can't deal with that." Tears clinged to the rims of his eyelids. "I can't deal with the fact that anyone I care about gets hurt. Or worse.

"I'm sorry."

This was wrong. This was all wrong. Harry was leaving because he thought people he cared about got hurt? But, that was what Peter believed. It was like talking with himself and, as deja vu ensnared his senses, the youth couldn't help but look away, eyes closing softly to stop his own waterfall of tears.

"You're sorry? But Harry... you can't be serious. It's me. I'll be fine, you'll be fine, everyone will be fine. The Green Goblin is gone. There's no one left to hurt you or any of us." Blue eyes fluttering open to meet those of his roommate and closest friend, Peter, for the first time in what seemed like forever, couldn't stop the tear that trailed down his cheek, resisting the urge to wipe it away.

"There's no need to go."

"Yes, there is," the young Osborn responded, his eyes looking away from his friend's. He couldn't look at Peter. He couldn't. "Please, Peter? Just let me go."

He held his breath, eyes searching his friend's face for a reason, a logical reason, that he should not go. For the first time in his life, Peter Parker's mind was failing him. He couldn't think of anything plausible that would even remotely catch Harry's attention or even have him considering changing his mind. What then, he mused, was the point of being a genius? Obviously, it wasn't helping in dire circumstances.

"Like I could stop you." Peter finally stated, releasing his held breath as he stood up straight. Placing a cheesy grin on his face, his eyes shining, the blue-eyed hero wondered if, perhaps, this was his fault. Averting his eyes, which revealed his thoughts and very soul, Peter stepped aside, as if physically removing the roadblock in Harry's path.

"I could never fight with you," he began, hands crossed across his chest. "You were always stronger. So... if this is what you want, I understand."

"Thanks," he responded half-heartedly, as he moved to open the door. Pausing for a moment, Harry shot a meaningful glance over his shoulder and then stepped out of the apartment for the final time, closing the door behind him.

That was it. No "good-bye", no "see you later", no "we'll be friends no matter what, so don't look so sad". Peter stared at that door for nearly ten minutes, wondering if he should rush after Harry and confess everything. He wanted to tell him that he was Spiderman, that he understood, and that it was okay for his friend to stay because he would protect everyone. But something stopped him from sprinting down the hall, something glued him to his spot and kept his still watering gaze on the door that separated him from his best friend.

"No matter what, the people I care for always get hurt," he whispered, another tear sliding down his cheek. He hadn't cried since after graduation and the cold diamond that snuck down his cheek was an abrupt reminder that he still had tears left. He'd thought he'd shed them all after his Uncle's death. Silently, he wondered if Harry was hurting as much as he was, and he cursed himself for being so weak. This was the second person he'd let walk out of his life.

"Why can't I protect the people I care about?" He shouted at the air, slamming his fist against the counter top. Ignoring the shooting pain that raced up his arm, Peter turned away from the door, squinting his ocean blues shut as more tears threatened to overflow.

"I'm so sorry Harry... for everything..."