Breaking and entering was never Peter's favorite thing. While experience often proved it a necessity in his case, part of him still felt a little weird doing something that normally he'd be apprehending criminals for. Still, right now, this was the only way he could think of to get any solid leads on who might be behind this latest criminal conspiracy.

Currently perched on a building about a block away, Peter eyed The Vault, a high-tech state of the art supermax prison specifically designed to keep in the most powerful, intelligent and altogether dangerous criminals the city had produced over the years. When it had first been made, its attempts at security had proved laughable, as villains seemed to escape almost daily. However, over the last few years, the people running the place had begun taking more extreme security measures, with much more effective results.

Naturally, some of those security measures were on the outside of the building, which was the first obstacle in Peter's way. There were cameras and sensors almost everywhere, so there was a very limited space and window of opportunity. Fortunately, he had studied these measures in his many visits helping the police escort particularly dangerous supervillains into confinement, so he had a pretty solid idea of how to proceed.

Firing a web, Peter swung off in the direction of the building. If he timed his landing right, he would end up at the ventilation entrance just as the camera nearest to it was turned in the other direction. As he got closer, he eyed the camera, firing one more web as he came upon his landing area. He could see the camera turning, and finally, he lunged his body forward, landing just in front of the ventilation area. His spider-sense indicated no sensors, so he quickly undid the shaft entrance point, getting inside and closing it back before the camera returned to survey the area.

From there, Peter began crawling through the shaft, all senses on high alert for any surprises. He was pretty sure he remembered where Harry was; his former best friend was in solitary confinement, so while he'd have to take care of some more cameras, he at least wouldn't have to worry about riling up any other prisoners. However, actually laying his eyes on Harry though was another story; even now, he was still second guessing if he could really look the man in the eye, even with the mask hiding his expressions.

After a little exploring through a couple of different levels, Peter finally found the small wing he was looking for. He glanced into the room, picking up at least one camera. Reaching back, he pulled out a small device he had attached to his hip. It was something he had developed about six- or seven years prior, a small device capable of temporarily disabling security cameras. He hadn't been able to use it on the ones outside because he'd needed to be at modestly close range for it to work, but he believed he was just close enough here.

Peter worked a little technical magic, and soon, the cameras in the room were off. He would still have only a few minutes before they were either rebooted or security would come running, so he had to get what he needed quickly before taking his leave. Popping open the vent seal, he dropped down onto the floor. He turned to see a large window showing an even larger cell, enough room to roam around.

Inside was none other than Harry Osborn. He was sitting on the floor with his arms hugging his legs, facing the wall. He didn't seem to notice Peter drop in; judging from his gaze, he wasn't sure if the man was even looking at particularly anything.

Time was ticking, so Peter spoke up.

"Harry."

His former best friend turned to look at him. Even through the long strands of hair that partially covered Harry's eyes, Peter could tell that there was a look of shock on his face. He stood up, slowly walking over to the window.

"Peter?" he muttered, his voice conveying a mixture of emotions. "What are you doing here?"

"Look, I don't have a lot of time, but I need your help," Peter said, stepping up to the window. "Someone called the Master Planner is behind some recent technological thefts, and I'm pretty sure Mysterio and Scorpion were working for him before I caught them. I know they were both a part of your original group; I have some thoughts, but I'm wondering if you might have any insight about which one of them might be behind all this."

"I..."

Harry swallowed.

"I have no idea."

"No idea?" Peter questioned. "You handpicked those guys yourself; you studied them. You must know something."

"I'm sorry Peter, I can't help you," Harry responded plainly. He wasn't even looking Peter in the eye anymore.

Peter's spider sense was beginning to buzz, and soon he could hear rapid footsteps coming their way. Security was coming even faster than he had anticipated. In any other circumstance it would've been encouraging to him to know that they respond so well to security issues, but now, it was just a little inconvenient.

"Come on Harry, think," Peter said, stepping even closer to the glass. "Ock, Vulture, Rhino...okay, scratch that last one, but still, could either of the other two be the ones behind this?"

The security people were getting closer; in moments, they would be in the room.

Harry remained silent, causing Peter to slam his fist against the reinforced glass in frustration.

"Harry!" he yelled.

They were at the door now. Time was up.

Quickly, Peter made his escape back through the ventilation shaft.

Harry observed as the security team burst into the room, guns drawn. Among them was the warden, who clearly had insisted on coming. Immediately upon entering the room, he locked his eyes with Harry briefly before looking around, surveying the area.

"Clear," the head of the security team said. He then tilted his head slightly for a moment, probably listening to something through an earpiece.

"Looks like it was just a minor malfunction with the cameras," he added, turning to his team. "Still, let's do a sweep of the surrounding area just to be sure."

The security team left, but the warden remained, walking over slowly to Harry's cell, a knowing smile on his face.

"He came, didn't he?"

Harry turned around but didn't move otherwise.

"Osborn," the warden said, his tone sterner this time, "answer me."

Reluctantly, Harry spun back around.

"Yeah, he was here."

The warden raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

"I didn't say anything," Harry said.

"Good," the warden smiled. "The Master Planner knew he would come eventually, and it seems like you played your part like a good little goblin."

Harry glared at the man, his fists beginning to clench as his whole body bristled at the mention of his former psychotic alter ego.

"Don't worry though," the warden continued, "I'll try and make sure you don't have to worry about something like this anymore. I must admit that I had more faith in our security measures, but it seems a certain bug figured out how to slip through the cracks, so I'll have to sure up some things around here. After all, you're not supposed to be able to have visitors, remember?"

The warden then exited the room, leaving Harry just as he had been for most of the last several years: alone. He slowly walked back to where he'd been before, sitting back down. This time, however, he could hardly sit still, as his body trembled with anger.

His rage wasn't so much at the warden's words, but at himself. His chance at redemption had come; even if it was only for information, Peter had come. Harry had finally had the chance to at least begin to atone for his many sins, for all the lives he'd ended or altered. Instead, his survival instincts had kicked in just as they had ten years ago. The same need for self-preservation that had turned him into a remorseless and murderous psychopath had reared its ugly head again, and now, there was a chance Peter could suffer once more for it.

In spite of everything he had done, Peter had cured him and saved his life, and now, Harry felt more undeserving of it than ever.

"Wow," Liz said.

"Yeah," M.J. replied, looking down at Liz's carpeted floor. Her best friend had asked about how things ended up going with her father the day before, and now that work was over, they had finally had the chance for her to catch her up on the subject.

"Are you okay?" Liz asked. "You seemed better at work today than the last time you saw him, but still..."

"I'm okay," M.J. said, nodding as she met her friend's eyes.

"Are you sure?" Liz reiterated, seemingly not convinced.

"Mhm," M.J. answered, nodding. "I'm just helping out someone who needs it right now."

"M.J, don't do that."

"Do what?" M.J. questioned.

"You've made such progress over the last five years," Liz said. "You've learned to open up and share more; don't lose all that progress now."

M.J. sighed. It had been Liz who'd insisted she finally see a therapist after years of emotional trauma, and it had helped a lot. Really, she'd felt better and better as she'd learned to be more open about her internal struggles, whether with her therapist or with her best friend. There was just something about seeing her father though that seemed to bring up old self-preservation habits again. She hated putting on a façade anymore, and she'd thought she'd put the tendency behind her.

It seemed old habits really did die hard.

"I just hope I made the right decision," M.J. said, practically having to force the words out. "You know, choosing to help him."

Liz leaned forward in her chair.

"I hope you did too," she said, "and I want it to be true; I want him to be better, for both your sakes. Just...be careful. Don't be afraid to hope, but don't give him too much too soon."

M.J. nodded.

"Well, I guess I better get home," she said. "Thanks for, you know, talking and all that."

"Of course," Liz replied, "and M.J, just remember, you're not alone."

Mary Jane offered a smile at her friend's words. She grabbed her jacket and her best friend saw her out the door. As she got in the elevator, Liz's words echoed in her mind.

"You're not alone."

Yet, somehow, it didn't feel that way. As much as Liz had been there for her, she had no idea what it was like to have someone hurt you on such a deep level as what she had endured at the hands of her own family. She had no idea what it was like to constantly carry trauma on a daily basis, even if it was now long in the past. Liz was great, but in all the years M.J. had known her, she'd never had to endure any kind of true hardship.

None of that was to say that she wished Liz any ill will. On the contrary, being around someone so untainted by the world was like a breath of fresh air for M.J, and she truly hoped Liz never dealt with anything like what she had. Despite that relieving feeling, however, it was hard for it not to make Mary Jane feel alone, even though she knew she wasn't.

The elevator door opened, and M.J. saw a couple of people waiting for their turn. She flashed them a smile as she exited, something she had been doing most of her life. These days, it was usually more genuine than it used to be, but right now, she was hoping it was convincing enough to be believed. It was getting more and more on her nerves that she was either getting caught or catching herself in some of these old habits, and as she exited the building and hopped on her bike, she resolved that she wasn't going to allow it to happen again.

She was better than this now.

Right?

Hope you all are still enjoying this!

Continuing to pray for you all; stay safe and healthy!

"Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart." Proverbs 3:3