( do we need to guess who this is for at this point )
Everyone had a threshold for dealing with shit and Harry had finally exceeded his.
Amid all the threats and not-so-accidental accidents, Octavius finally made a move. It was only thanks to an overpowered stun-gun Peter made him that Harry escaped. Octavius had gotten arrogant, moved just close enough to get in range, then ZAP. Both Octavius and the tentacles went on a fritz, throwing Harry to the ground. He was lucky to have gotten away with nothing worse than a gash on his shoulder and a mess of bruises from the encounter. But more than anything, it simply wasn't enough just to survive Octavius anymore.
Harry knew - now more than ever - that he needed to fight back. He needed to save himself from this guy. --But how? Even the stun-gun could only do so much.
And then he kept wandering into the study for long periods of time, staring at the mirror, long since replaced to hide the lair behind it once more. The serum was gone. Destroyed. But the weaponry, the materials, the blueprints... all of that was still in there. Granted, he couldn't use any of it as is. It belonged to the Goblin, and Harry wouldn't follow in those dark footsteps. If he wanted to use them, he had to become something else; he had to redesign everything.
...But could he? Harry was no genius, after all.
And yet - while that was true, he was resourceful and creative-- and he did exactly what he set out to do. Not without blunder, of course. There were plenty of mishaps and imperfections, but he had access to the programs, the blueprints, the materials his father had left behind. With them, Harry was able to create a new suit, a new glider, new weapons-- all entirely of his own design. He started out just tentatively flying around in abandoned subway tunnels, building confidence in himself and his tech. Especially trying to keep a low profile. This was just to fight Octavius, he told himself. He didn't need any attention on him; he didn't want Peter finding out until he was sure he could pull this off. And he had honestly meant to avoid heroics-- but then one day, he saw someone in trouble on his way to his makeshift training grounds. It seemed too cruel not to help.
They had been so grateful, and for the first time in a long time, Harry was proud of himself. He actually made a difference! It was an exhilarating feeling.
After that, he made more of an effort to help people before heading off to the subway tunnels. He still tried to stay low-key about it, but a new guy swooping in to save people was bound to get some attention. Today, he was even using the opportunity to test out a new gadget: a snare he'd built from razor bat scraps. It was supposed to lock onto a target and - when within range - break open and shoot out a cord that would ideally restrain said target. He was hoping to figure out a way to tie down Octavius' smart arms with it, but he figured this stupid mugger - trying to take off with some lady's purse - was as good of practice as any. The lock-on feature worked great, but the cord thing? ...Not so much. It just kind of ended up clotheslining the guy more than anything. ...Oops.
Thanks to that, Harry ended up staying behind longer than he wanted to, making sure the woman got her stuff back and that the mugger was properly restrained this time. In a hurry not to draw any more attention to himself than he already had, he was quick to return to his glider and hurtle off into the sky, hoping to get to the abandoned subway tunnels without further incident.
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Scary is an understatement. This was probably the most Harry had ever done on his own and now that he was seeing how much more there was to it than just flying around, he struggled not to get overwhelmed. "So, I guess you didn't start out too great either, huh?" It sounded like Spider-Man had some experience there. A story.
"Yeah, kinda," was Harry's answer, paired with a noncommittal shrug. It was a patchwork of various resources he'd had access to. Creative, maybe, but nothing he felt right taking credit for. "I just took other peoples' work and stitched it together, mostly. I'm not exactly a scientist. No way I could've done this on my own." And he's not putting himself down, it's just... the truth. He's never had a mind for science and he's long accepted that.
A laugh pressed past Harry's lips to match the shake of his head. "Please, I have zero reason to attack you. Especially after you've pretty much opened up your hideout to me and offered to help me." He drew in a deep breath and turned his gaze upward - at nothing in particular - for a moment. "I just wanna stop Octavius before something else happens. That's all I want."
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"Besides," You're my friend and I'm not going to let you fight alone. But no, Peter couldn't say that. "I know I wished I had someone to rely on when I started. Many a time." Someone to call when you're bleeding out on a roof. Could be useful, especially if you didn't heal the way Peter did.
"No, I didn't." Peter paused for a second, shrugging a little. "The first six months were really rough. I wasn't in a good place when I started, that was my first mistake. I didn't know what I was doing, didn't even know how to fight, I just had these powers and I acted on instinct. Got the shit kicked out of me a lot. And I didn't have anyone to rely on, no backup, nothing. Didn't have anybody to drag me away from the fight and make sure I was letting myself heal. So if I can give you that, at the very least, that's something."
"That's half of what science is. Taking what already exists and figuring out a new way to apply it to a situation." It's still impressive, fuck you Harry. "Well I think it's really cool. I'd like to see how it works sometime."
"You'd be surprised by some of the crazy grudges people hold." What the hell was even Electro's problem? Don't ask Peter, he honestly doesn't even know. "We can. We will."
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Harry managed a half-glance back up and a tiny smile. "Thanks. --I'm kinda surprised the Avengers haven't invited you into their club house yet. Or started your own thing, really. There's like... a billion superheroes in New York you could probably team up with." Spider-Man and his Amazing Friends! ...Nah, too corny.
Hearing the guy relay his experiences made Harry feel a little bad for him, though. Just thrown into the fray with no one to depend on? Sounded pretty rough, especially if he was as hard on himself as it sounded like. At least Harry had Peter, and now Spider-Man was offering to help him. "Well, I'd like to avoid as much shit-kicking as possible," he remarked, injecting a dose of lightheartedness into his tone. It faded quickly enough and Harry's expression became a little more grim, more sympathetic. "I'm sorry. That had to've been hard. --But hey, it looks like it's kinda paid off. A lot of people love you. Look up to you. You've been kind of a... beacon of hope, I guess. The city missed you when you went AWOL." Harry'd - admittedly - been too wrapped up in his own woes to really notice at the time, but reflecting back... Yeah. "I know not everyone's crazy about you, but you have done a lot of good."
And Harry was not so convinced. Naturally. "I guess so." He gave another shrug, even as he tried not to smile at the compliment. "I mean, if you wanna. You might be horrified by how sloppy my work is, though. End up trying to correct everything. Ignorance is bliss sometimes."
Well, he had a point. Harry chuckled a little, tilting his head. "Ah-- maybe not. I still haven't let my friend live down the time he spilled barbecue sauce on my favorite shirt. But I promise, you're all good in my book." A teasing smirk curled the corner of his lips. "As long as you don't ruin any of my clothes." Lame joke? Yeah, but it's better than being moody. "I'm gonna hold you to that, pal."
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Mentions of the Avengers got a whole-hearted snort out of Peter. Yeah, him, an Avenger. When pigs - okay, bad choice of words. "I'm not exactly Avengers material. Besides, I'm still a vigilante menace. They don't need any more bad press than they already get."
"And you will. Mostly, anyway." Can you tell he's smiling at you, Harry? The mention of his time out of the mask has Peter falling quiet for a moment. They haven't even talked about this as Peter-and-Harry; he hardly thought they'd have a conversation with him as Spiderman. "...I couldn't save her. The girl. And it's rough, when you - when you lose someone like that. I had to just...take a step back, I guess." It goes unspoken that if Harry takes him this form of vigilantism, he'll probably face much of the same - people he can't save. Certainly, not to the extent of Gwen but...they all took their toll.
"Yeah well, at least if I fix it you won't be running around flying on a ticking time bomb." Peter teased, shaking his head at Harry. He was good at this sort of thing when he wanted to be, he just didn't believe in himself and didn't have much interest in it. It's the former that Peter has a problem with.
"Oh don't worry," Peter shot a glob of web onto Harry's chest, just because he's Peter. "It disintegrates eventually."
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That smile transforms into a sincere chuckle once Spider-Man snorts at him. "Why the laugh? You've saved the city twice, y'know. I think you've earned your stripes. This city always complains, especially when you've got Jameson egging 'em on."
Well, here's hoping. Harry wasn't exactly keen on walking into Oscorp with a bruised face. That would get him some unwanted attention that only so many lame excuses could brush off. But then Spider-Man went quiet and an apology raced to the tip of Harry's tongue. Did he breach a subject he shouldn't have? Even when Spider-Man answered him, he wasn't sure. He averted his eyes again, staring at his dangling feet while he picked at his pant legs. "Sorry. I didn't mean to--" A breath. It wasn't an easy topic. For anyone. But sometimes Harry forgot that her death hadn't just affected Peter, or her family, or him. Gwen touched a lot of lives with her bright presence, and suddenly, that light was just gone. And Spider-Man blamed himself for not saving her. Harry couldn't bring himself to point fingers at him when he saw what his father had become. "I... don't think anyone can blame you for stepping back."
Now, it's Harry's turn to snort. "Alright, smart-ass. You pick a time and I'll let you look at the glider. Show me the error of my ways." And if he were being honest, he'd really appreciate having someone with an actual mind for science giving his work a look over.
The sudden collision with his chest got an undignified yelp out of Harry, who flailed a bit to keep his balance. "Hey!" And what does he do? Immediately try to peel it off. And of course it sticks to his hand. He didn't think this through. "Oh, great. You're such a jerk," he complained, pouting when tugging proved completely ineffective.
Worst case scenario, he'd have to take off his glove and it would just have to stay stuck to his chest for a while.
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"The Avengers are...big picture. They save the world, no matter the cost. That's a job that needs doing but me - I'm here for the little guy. I can't live with a cost others have to bear." Which is another reason why Gwen and her father were so damn hard for him. He is his Uncle's son. "Wouldn't be New York if they didn't."
"It's fine." And it was. Peter surprised himself with his own sense of...calm, about it. He blames himself, and that's more than enough. But that's certainly not a conversation Peter is willing to have with Harry right now, as Spiderman, when he hasn't even been able to broach the subject as Peter Parker. "...blame or not, I just wish they'd stop chucking trash. I only have the one suit, you know."
"Maybe after the next practice session. Which can be - when do you normally practice?"
"Constant vigilance!" Peter has to stifle some real laughter when Harry gets his glove stuck to his chest. Ho man, that's gold. Peter just starts slow clapping as the snickers begin to escape, despite his best efforts. "I think it's time to call it a night, unless you'd like to try fighting with one arm. Could be interesting. Vote now on your phones!"
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Honestly, Harry never looked at it that way. Sometimes, you don't always see the things heroes have to give up to be... well. Heroes. But in that light, he supposes there's a lot of sacrifice involved. How many of them have families they don't get to see? Or that have lost someone as a casualty of what they do? As much as that same curiosity bit as his tongue in regards to Spider-Man, he held it back. It was really none of his business; he had enough tact to know that. "Well, that's a pretty noble cause, too. Not enough people do that, I don't think."
And Harry also knew well enough that that particular subject was done with. No pushing it more than he already had. He's content to move on, himself. "I'd offer to use my influence to see if I could get 'em to stop, but... they don't like me much either and I've got these expensive suits they might see as a target--" He bobbed his shoulders. "You're on your own there, buddy."
"Just-- whenever I can make time. Usually after I get off work in the evenings or on days off." It's not like he could enjoy being at home when he was paranoid that Otto would sprout up and get him. He might as well get out and do something productive.
"Ugh!" Harry cried out in frustration, eventually just caving and working at unfastening his glove before he ended up tipping himself off the back of the glider. That wasn't really worth unsticking his hand from his chest. "No, I think I'm fine calling it quits for today." Only after his hand was finally withdrawn from the glove (which, yep, still stuck to his chest-- and it looked so ridiculous) did Harry climb back to his feet to stand properly on the glider. "I'm kinda tuckered out anyway. Don't think I've ever pushed that hard in practice." But hopefully that just meant that he'd get better with time and guidance.
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He doesn't know how he'd have answered, if Harry asked him that. Nobody usually gets close enough to him to ever pose that sort of a question, plus, it's Harry. Contrary to popular belief, Peter has always been hard-pressed to lie to Harry, ever. "No, they certainly don't. I've got all of Queens to look out for!"
"Do the ole fly around, I'll probably see you." Peter was usually out on patrol around those times, he just hadn't been in the right area, before. "Try not to cause any mass hysteria, yeah?"
Peter couldn't contain his laugh, try as he might, to seeing Harry's glove stuck fast to his chest like that, and the disgruntled grimace that accompanied it. "You might be sore tomorrow. Try stretching to relieve the lactic acid." Peter swings down to land in front of Harry, crouching. "And uh, try not to touch that webbing until it dries. It'll disintegrate...eventually."