Harry was unable to move his body, the mask of spiderman still in his hand. He tried to move his hand, his head. He tried to say something, do ANYTHING, but he couldn't. He was too shocked, too confused, too overwhelmed at what he was seeing.

He couldn't be. No. Peter couldn't be. He couldn't. Not him. Not his Pete. He would have told him. Not him. Not his best friend. He must surely be dreaming.

Just a second ago he wanted to kill the person in front of him. He wanted to stab him so bad it was hard for him to resist and take the mask of first instead. And now? Now he wasn't even sure what was happening. How had he not known?

Harry was supposed to be Pete's best friend. He was supposed to know him better than anyone. Had you asked him just the day before he would have easily said yes, he would have easily said who Peter was but now Harry wasn't even sure who he was. What was he even doing?

Then Peter opened his eyes and groggily looked around until his eyes met Harry's, the realisation on what happened dawning upon him.

Peter's brown eyes met Harries blue eyes and for a second the world stood still. He saw the desperation, the fear, the tears in Pete's eyes and only they could make his body move again. Without knowing it he had crawled back to the couch Pete was laying on and wiped the tear away.

"Why" he couldn't manage to choke out more. And to be honest he didn't know what why he meant. Why did you not tell me? Why did you kill my father? Why weren't you there when I needed you most? Why can't I be angry with you?

Peter couldn't say anything. He neither knew what Harry wanted to ask nor did he have the strength or time to talk about what they needed to talk about now. MJ was still in danger.

"I need to know where he is" Peter finally said, emotionless, as if Harry wasn't his best friend, as if the situation was completely normal. The tone hurt Harry in a way he didn't know he could be hurt.

"I told him not to hurt you Pete" he whispered unable to understand what Peter still wanted from Doc Oc.

"He has MJ" Peter stated softer this time. "And he's going to kill her and half the city, if I don't get there in time." He added with newfound strength having both reminded himself and Harry of the stakes here.

In the middle of the night Harry heard a loud thud on his balcony and felt a cold shiver running over him. He knew it had to be Pete; he didn't think he would come back this quick. He didn't think Pete would come back to him at all.

Almost in a trance like state he hurried over to his friend. His wounds were worse, the suit was torn in so many places, and blood was coming out all over Pete's body. After a moment just starring at Pete body he finally rushed towards the cabinet in the back, where he kept a first aid kit for security reasons, he never thought he would ever have to use it. Especially not like this.

"Lay still" Harry muttered and started to clean the wounds. Pete groaned at the pain he was causing by touching his wounds and it killed him inside.

Good he should be in pain. His father's voice echoed, and Harry was fighting not to cry. Because of his father's words, because of how much he despised the bug, because of how much pain Pete was suffering. You should just let him die. His father's voice whispered again. The emotions he had because of Pete's pain and because of his father's death clashed so hard inside his head he was sure he would just fall over and die.

But he couldn't. He needed to help Pete. Right now, that was the right thing to do, what he would do afterwards was unclear. It would be decided on who won the fight in his head, he or his father.

"Harry" Pete whispered slowly. "I think it's time to bandage me up." His voice broke. Realisation hit Harry, in his internal struggle he had gone into auto pilot and kept cleaning his wound for a while. He didn't know how much time had passed but he knew he spent way to long on what he had been doing.

"Can you sit up?" he asked unsure, the compassion clear in his voice. Pete winced at the action but manged to sit up anyway, how had he even managed to get back here at all? He seemed like he should have just collapsed somewhere mid-air and fallen to his death.

He should have, but he's here so that you can avenge me. His father screamed him, his evil laugh following suit. SHUT UP! He screamed internally bringing him a few rare moments of clarity, he used to finally put the bandages around Pete.

How did he not know? He asked himself again. In retrospect it was quite clear. For a moment he let his hand travel over his muscled body that he had only gotten through spiderman.

"Harry" Peter called out again. Just then he looked into his eyes, for the first time since Pete had been there. He fell into a trance like state again. Pete didn't look hurt or in pain at all anymore, all that Harry saw was worry. He was worrying about Harry, enough to forget about his wounds and the pain. "Are you..." ok was what Pete was trying to ask but Harry interrupted him.

"Why did you come back. I was trying to kill you remember." Harry hissed in a strong voice, his eyes landing on the knife he wanted to use.

"You wouldn't" Pete whispered, and he sounded unsure. Was he unsure Harry couldn't or was he not sure if this still was his Harry. In that moment his father's rage took over and he grabbed the knife holding it to Pete neck.

"Oh, can't I?" He asked deviously. He took another look at Pete, his eyes again meeting his, fear clear in them but he saw that Pete was still overwhelmingly worried. Harry let the knife slip out of his hand and fall beside Pete's head. I really can't. His voice echoed defeatedly.

"Harry." Pete whispered again; this time more desperate. "I'm so sorry, so so sorry. I didn't want this. I didn't want to hurt you. You know I would never do that unless I had no choice." Pete tried to explain.

"There is always a choice" Harry said with despise. "You could have told me. You could have been there for me. You could at least have done SOMETHING." Harry screamed a tear falling out of his eye and onto Pete's bare chest. Pete didn't say anything, he didn't know what to say. His right hand had found its way onto Harries face, wiping away the tears.

But Harry only felt worse because of his touch. No that wasn't it. He didn't feel worse, he felt safe, he felt like he could cry with Pete here. And then he felt Pete move closer to him, taking him into his arms.

Harry didn't know when he had been hugged the last time, like a real hug, a real heart-warming hug. One thing was certain, it definitely wasn't his father who had hugged him last. He was always a disappointment to his father, he refused to touch him. Even Pete got more affection from him than he did, and he didn't know, if he felt worse for it, or if he was happy that Pete was now here, now hugging him.

He had spent so many lonely nights in his bed cuddled up in his covers wishing Pete were there to comfort him. More nights than he wanted to admit, especially considering he never wished for MJ to be there with him. Not like he wished Pete was.

"I should have been there for you" Pete whispered into his ear soothingly. "From now on I will"