'You're weak, Harry. You always were. Get up. Get up and go face the world. Don't be a coward!'

Harry buried his face in his pillow in repsonse to the rude wake-up call from the deranged voice in his head, but it was a useless gesture. He dragged himself and headed to the washroom. After showering and dressing, he walked over to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. He sat at his desk, where countless articles and pictures of Spider-Man had been less than two months ago. He'd thrown them out the day after finding out that his best friend had been Spider-Man all along.

'Peter Parker. Is he still your friend, Harry? Is my murderer your friend? You swore on my grave to avenge me, and yet Peter, Spider-Man, is still your friend? Even before you knew the truth, you hated him. You defended Mary Jane against me, and what did you get in return? Rejection.'

"He loved her first. It was her choice. She didn't reject me, she just did what she thought was right", Harry answered out loud.

'She rejected you, Harry, and you know it!', the voice screamed. But then it's tone softened, becoming familiar again.

'I'll never reject you, Harry. I need you. You're my son.'

"No I'm not! You're not real! My father is dead!", Harry yelled.

The voice changed again, but this time, it took on a strange tone, a mix of his father's, a deep, unearthly voice, and... his own.

'And why is he dead? Because of your 'friend'. He betrayed you. He betrayed your father. Norman offered him everything. Power. Greatness. And Peter killed him for it.'

"Shut up!"

'He offered the world to him. But Peter didn't want a partnership, an equal. He wanted to steal headlines. So he killed Norman, and then he was too much of a coward to admit it. Too much of a coward to accept the offer. But you're not a coward, Harry.'

Harry covered his ears. He knew what was coming next. What always came next.

'Join me, Harry. Stop acting like a coward and live up to your birthright. Don't you want it, Harry? You could have all the power in the world. You could win back Mary Jane. You could avenge your father. Take the vials, Harry, and join me. Become what I was, what we were; strong and in control.'

"And a murderer! I'll never be like you! Never!", Harry screamed.

The voice pulled away from his mind with an echoing laugh, fading. Harry downed his drink and poured another. As he sat back down at his desk, he saw that his answering machine was flashing. He pressed the 'play' button.

"Harry, it's Peter. I need to talk to you-"

"No!", Harry screamed. "Why can't everyone just leave me alone!"

Harry comtemplated smashing the machine, but the message was already ending.

"I'll be there around seven at night."

Harry looked over at the clock. It was 6:59. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Harry dropped his drink, the sound reminding him vividly of the last time they had spoken.

"Who is it," Harry called loudly.

"Harry, it's me," Peter replied.

Harry suddenly got an almost uncontrollable urge to run. He wanted to leave. He wanted to run, far, far away. He wanted to be anywhere than where he was. 'Don't be a coward', the voice whispered across his mind. He walked slowly to the door, his outstretched hand shaking as he reached for the knob. He opened the door.

There stood Peter, his expression wary but open. He looked almost ashamed to be there.

"Did you get my message," he asked, studying Harry for any sign that he should leave.

"About two seconds ago," Harry replied.

"MJ's worried about you, and so am I. Is everything alright?"

Peter's concern and friendliness caught Harry off guard. But then his anger at Peter for the lies he'd told him, the secrets he'd kept from him, returned.

"Is everything alright? Are you crazy? Of course everything's not alright! You let me believe that you were my friend, when you murdered my father!"

"Harry, I didn't kill your father-"

"Well, you did a pretty good job making it look like you did. If you didn't kill him, who did? What happened that night, Peter?"

"It was an accident, Harry," Peter said. He didn't know what to say beyond that; Norman hadn't wanted Harry to know about his secret life, and Peter wanted to honor that. Harry was out of it enough as it was. 'The truth would tear him apart', Peter thought.

"Okay. Fine. How did this accident happen," Harry asked bitterly. Peter looked away, refusing to answer.

"Why won't you tell me? You came here to talk, so talk. What happened?", Harry demanded. 'Why won't he tell me the truth? If he didn't kill my father, what is he hiding,' he thought. Then something occured to him. Peter didn't know that Harry knew about his father's secret. 'Is he trying to protect my father's identity? Why?'

"Is this about who my father was? Peter, I already know about it... my father was the Green Goblin. I know," he said.

Peter looked at him with disbelief. How could he have known?

"After you left, I was in shock," Harry explained. "Wondering how the hell I'd been so blind to what had been going on. I... I must have snapped at some point. I heard laughter. Someone was talking to me. I turned around, following the voice. I was looking in the mirror, but my reflection wasn't there. My father was. He was telling me that I was weak, that I was supposed to avenge him. He tried to convince me... I smashed the mirror. There was a hidden room behind it... I guess my father had used it as a workshop. Everything was there. Extra suits, gliders, bombs, detailed blueprints of everything there... I almost couldn't believe it at first, but it all made sense."

Harry looked directly at Peter, his eyes burning with tears.

"I need to know what happened, Peter. I have a right to know."

Peter took a deep breath. Harry already knew the truth about his father. There was no point in denying him the answer.

"I guess you could say that is started at Thanksgiving dinner. I didn't understand why he freaked out when he saw the cut on my arm, but looking back on it now, I know why; I'd gotten the cut from him only a few hours before. He'd figured it out. Later that night, he attacked Aunt May... but you already know about that. Since I knew that the Green Goblin knew who I was, I figured that he'd go after my friends next. I called MJ from the hospital, but he was already there. He challenged me to come get her. I met him at the Brooklyn Bridge. He held MJ over the side with one hand, and a wire connected to a cable car full of kids in the other, and told me to choose who to save."

Peter couldn't keep the anger out of his voice while describing this; the memory still hurt. He tried to calm himself down as he continued.

"I managed to get them to safety, but then he came back. He took me to a warehouse and attacked me. Then he threatened MJ... I couldn't stand the thought of it."

Harry's face displayed his anger as he anticipated what had happened next, but forced himself not to interupt.

"I fought back harder. But then he took his mask off. He claimed that what he'd done had been against his will, and asked me to help him. He said he'd been like a father to me, but I told him that my real father had been Uncle Ben.

"While I'd been focused on what he was saying, he'd flown the glider behind me. When I refused him, he made it charge at me. I got out of the way at the last second."

Peter was sad and apologetic as he said,"It hit your father instead. But just before he died, he said 'Don't tell Harry'. So I didn't. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry, tears now streaming down his face, slowly lowered himself into a chair, looking down. He felt numb.

'So it was an accident after all', he thought.

'He's lying Harry! He's been lying to you for years! What makes you think that you can trust him now," the voice yelled. 'It doesn't matter how it happened. Norman is still dead, and it's still his fault!'

"No," Harry whispered in answer, shaking his head.

"What is it, Harry?", Peter asked.

"He's here. Ever since that night... he won't leave me alone".

'That's right, Harry. You're finally getting it. I'm a part of you now. The only way to get rid of me is to become me!'

Visions started to flash before his eyes. Dr. Stromm's dead body on the labratory floor. The board members, their bones crumbling to dust as they hit the ground. An astronaught and scientists at an Aerospace compound, blown apart. Bloody images and morbid thoughts raced across his mind. Harry stood up, screaming.

"Stop it! Why won't you just leave me alone!"

"You swore on your father's grave to avenge him, and here you are, talking with his murderer!'

"What's wrong, Harry?"

It was Peter's voice, but Harry couldn't see him. All he could see were dead bodies. The voice laughed.

"I have to go! I can't take this anymore!", Harry screamed, and ran past Peter, down the stairs. He slammed into Bernard, the butler, as he raced for the door.

"Are you okay, sir?", he asked.

Harry grabbed him by the collar, shaking him.

"Help me! Make it stop! Get him away from me! He's telling me to kill people," he yelled.

"Who is?"

"My father! He's here!"

Suddenly, Harry collasped on the floor, unconscious. Barnard picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1.