Alexia didn't see him later, or anytime that night. She'd taken a cab back to the dorm to pick up her things and let the headmaster know that she was moving. It hadn't taken long; her belongings consisted mainly of the discounted clothes she bought from the store where she worked, and books.
When Peter didn't come back by midnight, Alexia found herself getting worried. She was having trouble sleeping, kept awake by the sound of Mr. Ditkovitch snoring through the paper-thin walls.
Finally, around two a.m., Alexia heard a noise coming from outside. She was about to get out of bed when she realized what, or more specifically, who, had caused the noise. Alexia was relieved, knowing that it was only Peter climbing through his window, and she finally fell asleep.
Half-way across town, Harry Osborn turned in his sleep for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. Images… sounds…Spider-Man's mask. Harry, in his sleep, tried to make sense of them, but it wasn't working.
The sound of someone laughing. It sent a chill down his spine. It was cold, yet eerily comforting.. Then the sound of breaking glass… the object that had shattered it landed with a thud on the floor of the next room.
The next room? That wasn't right. He was in his father's… no, his office. And then everything seemed to be playing backwards in Harry's mind.
A scream, his own voice. The breaking glass. The evil laughter. Someone was talking to him.
"Avenge me. AVENGE ME!", the voice cried.
A strange feeling… numbness… the object in his hand fell to the floor… a dagger. Why did he have a dagger?
"Harry."
It was a familiar voice. Peter Parker. But something was wrong, he didn't look right. Colors… red and blue… blurring.
Then, Harry was standing over someone… Spider-Man.
"Who are you?", Harry asked the unconscious form. The person moved. Harry pulled off the mask.
"No… Peter."
"NO!", Harry screamed, suddenly awake. He was in his bedroom. Harry groaned as he realized that he had a splitting headache. A tray with scotch and shot glasses stood on the night table beside him, and he sat up to pour himself another glass.
Harry had been drinking heavily for the past few weeks, attempting to drown the memory of the night when he found out that his best friend was Spider-Man. As if that weren't enough, that same night, he had learned that his father had been the Green Goblin.
"My father", Harry whispered.
Spider-Man killed him.
With an anguished cry, Harry, stood up and threw his shot glass at the wall. The sound of it breaking made him wince, once again reminding him of that night. He sat back down, sobbing.
"HAHAHAHA".
The voice was back. His father's voice.
"Leave me alone!", Harry yelled at the empty room. He fell back onto his bed taking the scotch container with him. He gulped it the liquid, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat as he did so.
After finishing the bottle, Harry once again fell into a troubled sleep.
Despite her lack of rest, Alexia rose early the next morning, with plenty of time to waste before she had to go to class. She had forgotten to pick up groceries the day before, and decided to go out for breakfast again.
After showering quickly and gathering her school books, she put her backpack on and locked her door.
As she walked toward the stairs, her gaze fell upon Peter's door, and she wondered whether he was gone, or still asleep. She hoped it was the latter; he had looked tired the day before, and obviously needed as much sleep as he could get.
Alexia rode her motorcycle to a diner close to campus. She had eaten there many times before, and was greeted warmly by the waitress, who was the mother of one of her classmates.
As she headed toward a booth near the window, she spotted a copy of the Daily Bugle, and grabbed it. On the front page was a picture of Spider-Man swinging through Times Square. Ignoring the rather unflattering headline, Alexia scanned the article.
According to the reporter, Spider-Man had helped a bunch of thieves rob a bank and then left them for the police, which of course meant that he had stopped the thieves and was then blamed for the crime.
She was about to go dump the newspaper in the trash, when she saw the by-line at the bottom of the page. After the author's name and email, it said 'Photos provided by Peter Parker.'
Alexia resisted the urge to laugh out loud as she realized that Peter had been taking pictures of himself.
"I met him once, you know."
Alexia lowered the paper to look at the speaker, an over-weight African American woman wearing a flowered dress.
"Really?", Alexia asked, curious.
"Yeah, a couple of years ago. In fact, I was probably the first person to see him." Seeing the confusion on Alexia's face, she continued, "Before he became famous, he showed up at an amateur wrestling competition where I was working. When I saw him, I couldn't believe he wasn't to compete. He looked sort of scrawny, wearing blue tights, a red sweatshirt with a spider stencilled on it, and a red ski mask."
She shook her head.
"Boy, was I wrong. He won, and a few days later, showed up on the front page of the Bugle."
"Do you believe all of the things they say about him?", Alexia asked.
"No. I know a good person when I see one, and he's definitely one of them."
Alexia was contemplating telling the woman about her encounter with Spider-Man, when the waitress came to take her order. The woman got up and started to walk towards the door, which was right beside Alexia, but paused before opening it.
"Do you believe all the bad things they say about him", she asked.
"Absolutely not. Spider-Man could never be a bad person. Not a chance in the world."
