The Amazing Spider-Man of Young Justice (Season 1)

Therapy

The next day, Spider-Man was back to his usual routine, swinging through the city with practiced ease. The sunlight glinted off the glassy skyscrapers as he soared between them, his thoughts a whirl of unresolved tension and unease. The encounter with Artemis last night lingered in his mind, a small but persistent voice reminding him of the person he was supposed to be.

But the city didn't stop moving, and neither could he. He focused on the mission at hand, the one that had been gnawing at him ever since he'd found the map. Mister Negative was still out there, plotting something big, and Spider-Man was determined to stop him.

As he swung over the bustling streets, he began piecing together the information he had gathered so far. The circled locations, the targeted events—everything pointed to a coordinated attack on Oscorp. The only question that remained was why. What did Mister Negative hope to gain by going after Oscorp? What was his endgame?

Spider-Man's mind raced, trying to connect the dots. And then it hit him—a realization so sudden and so chilling that he almost missed his next web-swing. Harry. Harry was at the center of it all. As the face of Oscorp, the one promoting the new mayor next week, 7 days on the dot, he was the most obvious target. If Mister Negative was planning something against Oscorp, then Harry's life was in danger.

A surge of panic shot through Peter, mingled with a strange sense of dread. He had to warn Harry. But the thought of confronting him, of showing up in the black suit—he knew Harry would lose it.

Peter shook his head, pushing the thought away. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter. Harry's life was on the line, and if he didn't act now, it might be too late. Whether Harry liked it or not, Spider-Man was going to save him. And right now, Peter couldn't care less what Harry thought.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Spider-Man swung toward Harry's home, his heart pounding in his chest. The city flew by in a blur, his mind focused solely on getting there as fast as possible. He knew this confrontation was going to be ugly, but it had to be done.

When he arrived at Harry's penthouse, he paused outside the window, watching for a moment. Harry was sitting in his living room, looking haggard and tired as he took a couple of pills and washed them down with a glass of water. Peter hesitated for a split second, but then steeled himself and swung inside.

Harry looked up, and the moment he saw Spider-Man in the black suit, his expression shifted from surprise to fury. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped, his voice laced with anger and disbelief. He then realized the suit the hero now wore. And he knew exactly what it was. "You're... you're wearing that it?"

"Harry, listen to me," Spider-Man said, trying to keep his voice calm. "You're in danger. Mister Negative is targeting Oscorp, and you're-"

But Harry cut him off, his face contorting with rage. "I don't care what you have to say! You show up here, WEARING the thing that could've saved my life, and expect me to just listen to you? After everything?"

Peter's patience began to fray, the symbiote feeding off his growing frustration. "I'm trying to help you, Harry! If you'd just stop being so damn stubborn for once and listen—"

"Get out!" Harry shouted, his voice trembling with anger. He pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his cane as he struggled to stand. "If you're not here to give the symbiote back, get out of here, now!"

Spider-Man's eyes narrowed, the dark influence of the symbiote taking hold once more. "You really think you can just tell me what to do, Harry? Maybe if you weren't so pathetic, you'd see that I'm the only one who actually gives a damn about what happens to you."

Harry's face twisted in a mix of hurt and fury, his grip tightening on the cane. "Screw you!" he spat, the words dripping with venom. He swung the cane at Spider-Man, but Peter was too fast. With a swift, almost careless motion, he knocked the cane out of Harry's hand, sending it clattering to the floor.