Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-man or any of the characters from the movies or comic books. I do own this story line, or at least part of it, since this is most likely what's gonna happen anyway...at least the first part...But anyways...I forgot to mention that James Franco is mine, so you guys just lay off! Oh, yeah! By the way, the title for the story came from the Hoobastank song, "The Reason," and is the property of Dan Estrin and Doug Robb.
Author's Notes: This takes place at the end of SM2, with Harry in the hidden room, holding the cylinder with the formula Norman gave him...
Thanks to all reviewers!!!!
Shannon!- I love you, lady! Thanks for reviewing, and you can tell me whatever you don't get on my LJ! I'll explain your freakin' ears off! D
Brunette- Thanks! I love Harry, and I think he's more misunderstood than evil. I wanted to show his insecure side, the side of him that always noticed that his dad favored Peter!
Jenny- Thanks! Here is the asked for update!
Slash-a-holic- Glad you like it, but sorry...There won't be any slash! Hope you still like!
Lisa- Thanks! Your review was really sweet, and it was a major boost to my confidence, so thanks a million! I always felt sorry for Harry, I never hated him or was scared of him.
Kari Anna-Thanks alot! Your review was very sweet, and thanks for the constructive criticism...I do that soooo much!
Jewel59- Thank you!
Chapter 2: Sounds and Silence
The next morning, Harry woke up in a crumpled heap on the floor next to his bed in the apartment he shared with Peter. He pushed himself up and off the floor, amazed at how easy it was. He had almost forgotten the night before...when he'd discovered the truth. But a rush of bad, frightening, and simply irritating memories rushed to his head more painful than a rush of blood. He felt like letting himself collapse again and just keep sleeping. But he couldn't. He had to get up and get started planning his revenge.
His first thought was that Peter might be asleep in his room, which would make Harry's job all too easy. When he finally got to his feet, he grabbed his small pistol from his drawer and began sneaking up the stairs to Peter's room. As he walked, the memories made his head ache.
Peter looked at Norman, "No thanks, I like to earn what I get."
Norman nodded. "I respect that," he said, sending a meaningful look Harry's way...
He turned the nob silently, flung the door open wide, and aimed the gun where he knew Peter would be...
"I read all your research on nanotechnology. Brilliant," Peter said, smiling.
"And you understood it?" Norman asked, incredulously.
"Um...yes sir, I wrote a paper on it."
Peter wasn't there...and neither were his things. Harry muttered a few choice words, and looked angrily at the empty bed as if looking long enough would make Peter appear there so that he could be disposed of easily.
Harry walked into Peter's aunt's hospital room with a bouquet of flowers. And there they were, Peter and MJ, holding hands. Harry's heart hit the floor with what felt like a resounding thud.
Harry couldn't really blame Peter. The night before, he'd woken up with Harry's gun in his face. Harry would have run away, too.
But he needed to get his hands on Peter. He had to for his Dad's sake. He needed to do it for his own sake. He needed to win, to be on top of the game this one time. And he was going to.
But first, he had to disguise himself. He thought over a million different ways to do it before he decided to go back to his dad's place and check out the Green Goblin suit.
As he walked into the house, he heard something that stopped him in his tracks. An evil cackle that terrified him. He knew that laugh. It sounded alot like the Green Goblin. And it also sounded alot like him. He looked into the house and pulled the pistol out of the pocket of his jacket. He aimed into the living room and yelled, "Hello?"
He was answered by another cackle that chilled his blood. "H...Hello?" he called again, fear making his voice quiver.
This time, the cackle voice answered, "Harry."
Harry ran his free hand through his curly blondish-brown hair and shook his head, trying to shake free from what he thought was just his mind playing tricks on him.
The voice spoke again, "Harry, I'm here to help you."
"Well, where the crap are you?" Harry demanded.
"I am inside you," the voice said, cackling yet again. "I was in your father, and now I'm inside you. I will give you the power to get rid of Peter Parker. I will destroy him. I will avenge your father through you."
Harry shook his head again, still not trusting his ears. The voice laughed again, and this time it made Harry angry. Everyone laughed at him. They always had. And the voice spoke again, "I'm still here, Harry Osborn."
Harry's heart was pounding as he looked around the room. "Look into the mirror," the voice said, seeming to taunt him. Which only made Harry angrier. He went into the livingroom and looked into the mirror. Suddenly, shock took over. He wasn't talking, but his reflection was. And it was the cackle voice coming from his mouth.
"See, Harry," it said, "I'm part of you now. And I'm going to help you. I'm going to help you get your revenge on Peter."
"The Science Award," Norman said, nodding toward an award Peter held in his hands, along with his diploma. "Impressive."
Harry looked from his father to his friend, feeling his heart crushed yet again by his father's disapproval.
"Wh...what do you want me to do? I...I...uh..."
"You will do whatever I command," the voice said. "I am the power you need."
A sudden flash of conscience welled up inside of him. "I can't kill Peter," he whispered, shocked at the thought.
"You can," the Goblin insisted. "And you will. Perhaps everyone will see then that New York...the whole world, is better off without Peter Parker and Spider-man."
"But Peter...he's my best friend. I can't...I can't kill my best friend."
"Best friend? What kind of best friend kills your father?"
"I know!" Harry said, pressing his hand to his forehead.
"Now, Harry, GO! Go with the power I have given you! Go!"
Harry turned his back to the mirror and covered it with a blanket. He lay down on the sofa, and closed his eyes, hoping that the voices would go away. He took a long look around the room. He turned over, facing into the couch and hoping to sleep. The conversation with the Goblin had drained him. But the cackle of the Goblin kept breaking the silence.
Harry rose from the sofa and ran into his father's bedroom. Nothing had been touched since his father's death, and that meant one important thing to Harry. He knew exactly where to find his dad's stash of sleeping pills and his best whiskey, which he always kept hidden. He dug through the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of sleeping pills, then found the whiskey. He stuffed the two bottles into his pockets, and ran down the stairs and to his car. He drove back across town to his apartment. He got into the building and ran into his room slamming the door behind him. He had to sleep, but he couldn't. His conversation with the Goblin had drained him, but it had also left him feeling so afraid that he couldn't sleep. So he poured several pills into his hand and looked at them a long time before popping them into his mouth.
He uncapped the whiskey bottle and used the bitter liquid to chase the pills down. He crawled into his and pulled the blankets up, but only let himself lie down after he'd drained the bottle. He was going to have one heck of a hangover, but at that point, he didn't care.
Then, he just lay there until everything kicked in and he was so entirely drunk and stoned that staying awake was nearly impossible. But he found that not even an alcohol and drug induced sleep could keep the Goblin away. His terrible laughter haunted Harry's dreams.
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