𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚 — 𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙣𝙞𝙙 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙣

☕

IT WAS ANOTHER rough night for Harry. Living with a chronic illness – that had no cure or any real treatment that could help his state of living – fucking sucked and he hated it. He woke up and his back felt like he had broken it the night before and his head was just pounding up against his skull. It was so bad that he skipped his second class because he just couldn't do it anymore, no matter how hard he was trying to focus in his first lecture.

So he spent the whole day in bed, taking enough Advil that it could probably potentially lead to an overdose with noise-cancelling headphones in, wallowing and just trying to sleep.

And it did nothing.

Because now it was ten o'clock at night and his head was still a fucking mess, battering up against his skull so hard that he wanted to just smash it against a wall, and his limbs were screaming in pain with every move he made.

But forced himself up and in clothes to get his only 'cure'; drugs. Because when he was high, it didn't hurt. When he was gone and lost without a brain, the pain stopped registering and he could finally breathe again without the burn. Fuck his dad. Fuck his father and his dreams to become a superhuman and injecting himself with his radioactive creation that spread to his child.

Fuck the short lifespan that came along with it. Fuck the pain.

God, did he really hate life. Everything just felt so terrible and he wanted it to stop; he would do anything to just make the pain stop. No matter what it was as long as he could just move without the aches and his head stopped feeling this way. It was terrible and he just wanted to get high already.

It was times like these that he was glad that Peter was never in their dorm. Because no one knew of the pain, of the tears that streamed down his face because it hurt so much but there was no real reason for it to be burning. Because no one knew how he went out and hung around stoners for hours as he just got high and forgot about the pain at least for a little while. No one worried and no one knew.

It was glorious because he couldn't really handle his friends knowing about this problem. They didn't need his burden draped along their shoulders so that they carried the weight. It was his and his alone. Well, his and his father's, but who cares about that old man? He was just the mad, old CEO of Oscorp who poisoned himself and his kid – not that he ever cared about Harry after his mother's death. Not like he was even around to love Harry when his mother was alive.

But drugs. They were great. An escape that he never wanted to get away from him. So what if they were killing him? He was already dying, an unclean needle or some bad coke would just speed up the process. No harm no foul, really.

So there he was; standing out back of the local library on campus that was already closed with a ring of stoners just like him. The only difference was that they were high all the time and he just got high at night when nobody was around to notice him or care. They only hung out with each other for the most part, a tight-knit smoking family, whereas Harry hid himself from his friends because he couldn't bare the shame of them ever knowing about his addiction.

Because he was an addict and he knew that. He knew that it was bad and he knew that they would all be disappointed in him if they knew but he couldn't stop. This was the only thing that stopped the pain and he needed it; he needed it.

So he brought the joint to his lips and closed his eyes, breathing in and then out again. No one paid him any mind and he didn't care to know them either. It was a mutual agreement that he couldn't ever see himself breaking. This was too good to end.

And in his haze of getting high, he didn't notice the two spiderlings conversing on top of the next building; both watching him and both disappointed. But it didn't matter; he didn't care; he was okay now.

The pain was gone and he could finally exhale without the pressure on his chest. All that mattered was this ethereal as he leaned against the brick and let himself go. Fading, fading...and gone.

＆

"I'm gonna kill him," Cindy muttered to herself, crouching down on top of the building with Spider-Man by her side.

They had been swinging together (it was a pretty easy night), killing time and waiting for anything to happen. That had been until Cindy had spotted her friend smoking – doing drugs like any other lowlife druggie – and she stopped on top of the building, the boy in red and blue right after her.

Spider-Man frowned beside her, "Who?"

She froze. She forgot that they both had super-hearing thanks to the spider gene in them. This was identity revealing shit and she wasn't sure if she was ready for that. Only one person knew of her dual-identity and she liked to keep it that way. The less people that know, the better. And here she had gone and fucked it up because she spoke and was staring at Harry Osborn smoke like an idiot.

Because he's an idiot. He's a fucking druggie, a stoner like the rest of them, and she couldn't stop her anger. Her anger at Harry's foolish decisions, her anger that he kept this a secret from everyone, her anger that she had never even figured it out.

Fuck.

Cindy stood up and turned away from Harry. God, she couldn't even look at the idiot. "Nothing, no one," she said to her fellow spider, but he didn't believe it causing her to sigh, "Just forget about it, okay? Really, I can deal with it later."

"Um, yeah, but killing is wrong," Spider-Man pointed out, though more jokingly than serious like Captain America would be if he heard the expression. God's Most Righteous Man and everything.

She couldn't stop the eye roll and was really glad that she was wearing mask so that he couldn't see it. "I'm not actually gonna do it; I'm just gonna maim him and everything. Nothing too serious."

Spider-Man had a noise of disagreement and her lips twitched up. Again, she was glad that he couldn't see it. She didn't want him to think that she liked him or anything. No. They were just colleagues, not real friends, yeah?

"Sure, sure," Spider-Man said, sitting down on the ledge of the building, "So who's the dude that I need to try and keep away from you tomorrow?"

Cindy scoffed but sat down next to him, "As if you can stop me. And it's just a friend of mine that's being a fucking idiot."

"You mean doing drugs?" Spider-Man asked, pointing to the scene before them.

"Yep," she nodded in affirmation, "A fucking idiot."

Spider-Man made a noise and then leaned forward, eyes squinting as he tried to get a better picture. "Is that Harry? I, uh, I mean Harry Osborn, yeah, uh. Is that Harry Osborn?"

He rushed through his sentence, as if trying to cover something up and Cindy looked up him suspiciously before a spike of fear than through her. What if he knew Harry, just like her? What if they knew each other as their civilian selves? That would be something, wouldn't it?

Of course everyone could recognize that it was Harry Osborn there, but Spidey was trying to cover something up – he knew Harry. Holy shit; just like her, he knew Harry. They were friends and that meant that she had a connection to Spidey's civilian identity and he had a connection to hers.

Holy fuck.

They knew each other outside of Spider-Man and Silk.

That was okay, yeah? She could totally come clean to him about her civilian identity then if he did the same because they could both blackmail each other. She won't saying anything about his if he doesn't say anything about hers. It would be okay. And they could talk outside of this, discuss who's taking patrol tonight so the other could actually get some fucking sleep and do homework so they could pass college – wait, Spidey was still in college, right?

He had to be, yeah? They were both here on a college campus which means that they had to both be attending the college. Or maybe Spider-Man's older and is a teacher here which is how he knows Harry. Oh my God what is Spidey is like a whole lot older than her and she's been thinking he's a teenager just like herself this whole time?

Okay, this was getting to far.

No, Spidey couldn't be a professor by the way he talked. They had to be the same age or just about which means that he had to be a friend of Harry. It would be okay to say something. Yeah, yeah...it would be completely fine. Completely and totally fine. Yeah.

"Yep," Cindy swallowed, nodding as she looked at Harry, "That's him."

Spider-Man blinked, "I never took him to be a drug addict. Huh."

"Me neither," she admitted. She just – she couldn't see it in him. Why would he need drugs? But, she would admit, it would fit the usual stereotype of rich boys who were going to inherit companies when they got older. Tony Stark was just the same when he was Harry's age. Only his struggle was much more public than Harry's.

Well shit.

"Huh," Spider-Man repeated, "I don't like it."

"Neither do I." Okay, this is going into more personal territory. No one would be talking like this if they didn't know Harry, right? They were establishing something nice, something familiar. This was trust, yeah? They both realized that they knew Harry and were concerned with his wellbeing. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

"I should probably talk to him about it, yeah? That like, I know, right?" Spider-Man asked absentmindedly.

Cindy frowned. "As Spider-Man or your other self."

Spidey blinked before freezing, brought back into the moment. "Oh no, I didn't – this is bad. I didn't mean, like, I uh – I didn't mean anything about that..."

She chuckled, Spidey rambled a lot. "No. Um...no. I know him too."

He looked at her. "You do?" he asked carefully, obviously wanting to ask more but not wanting to cross over any lines.

Cindy nodded, turning to him and biting her lip. She thought about it for a moment. Just saying her name would give it away and it would keep anyone from taking pictures, but no one was around to see them besides those who were stoned out of their mind. So, she took off her mind and looked at him.

"Hi, I'm Cindy. Cindy Moon," she introduced herself. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, wondering if he would do the same or if he would just know here and he would still remain a mystery. One that she could piece together if she wanted to, of course, but no. She wouldn't because that would disrespect his privacy and they were friends...colleagues, something.

He just stared at her in shock and she grew even more nervous. He reached for his mask, hesitating for a moment, before taking it off. "Hi...it's Peter."

And wow. She was not expecting that. Really, out of her friend group, she would say Bren would be Spider-Man before Peter. This was shocking and wow, but yeah. She could see it. Well, she had to because it was true; this was Spider-Man.

She nodded. "Holy shit, I was not expecting that," she admitted.

Peter laughed, "Yeah, I get that. I'm not, uh, not what people expect when they think of Spider-Man."

"I mean, yeah, but it's not unwelcome," Cindy assured him, "But damn, I did not think it would be you."

He shrugged, a light blush on his cheeks. "Yeah. You know, you're like the first person I ever told – like, actually told. Because Mr. Stark found out and then went looking for me, and Ned was in my room when I came home from patrol one time and found out, and then my aunt saw me when I was, uh, changing into the suit once."

"Wow," Cindy blinked, "You're the second person I've told. Other than you, only Brendon knows about me being Silk."

Peter nodded and his blush darkened and she smirked. "Wait, I just remembered. Brendon was telling me that sometimes Spider-Man comes into the coffee shop after closing hours. What's that all about?"

He turned away from her and she couldn't help but laugh at him. "No, no, no. Turn back. I'm serious. You got a crush on him or something?"

"Wait? No! Of course not!" Peter exclaimed, a shrillness that was higher than his usual voice.

"You so do!" Cindy cheered, laughing on, "Oh my God, that's so great!"

Peter frowned and turned back to her, "Wait, why is it so great? You're not gonna tell him or anything, are you?"

Cindy rolled her eyes. "Of course not, I'm not an idiot...but I will tell you that Brendon has had the biggest crush on you since the second he laid eyes on you. So, like, do something about it because he's too much of a coward to say anything."

"I – you don't mean that. He doesn't, he doesn't like me. He could do like way better than some nerd like me," Peter disagreed, shaking his head.

"Probably," Cindy agreed, "But he really does like you, you should do something about it, spider boy."

"Spider-Man," he grumbled as Cindy put her mask back on and swung away cackling, leaving him alone.