Fractured Mind

Chapter 8

Harry couldn't help but smile to himself.

He stared up at the ceiling from his bed, contemplating his next move on Peter.

Last night had gone perfectly. He had been keeping an eye on Peter from a distance, planning on ambushing him to try out his memory machine, when some good-for-nothing junkie had attempted to rob him. Harry had watched the scene unfold as Mary Jane had run up to try to stop Peter, and he had elbowed her in the face. For a second, Harry had felt an intense anger and had to restrain himself so he wouldn't give away his position, but what happened next delighted him.

Mary Jane had pushed Peter away. She had yelled at him. The look of anguish on Peter's face had been pure bliss.

He watched as Mary Jane made her way home, Peter following behind like a wounded puppy. He waited several minutes to make sure they had gone, and the man Peter had left behind had begun to stir. This should be fun, he thought.

Harry walked up to the man, who was spitting out blood.

"Help me, please," spluttered the man.

Harry held out a hand and the man grasped it allowing Harry to pull him to his feet. He spit more blood onto the ground.

"What happened to you?" Harry faked concern.

"I- I- ah nothing. It was nothing. My fault," the man mumbled and looked down at his knife, shaking his head. He took a look at Harry and began to hobble away.

"I know who did this to you. I can give you his name, if you'd like."

The man turned around and studied Harry for a moment. He shook his head and continued on. Irritated, Harry walked in front of the man, stopping him.

"You're just going to let him get away with what he did then?" he said, irked. Seriously, who wouldn't want payback after that?

"No, no. Like I said, my fault," he said again walking around Harry.

Harry glanced behind him, making sure there were no onlookers, and then grabbed the man and pinned him up against the wall.

"Wha-what are you doing?" the man yelled, bewildered.

"Now just so you know, this isn't personal," Harry sneered as he took the man by the face and bashed the back of his head against the wall. Harry watched as the man slid down the wall, the light leaving his eyes.

Harry laughed to himself again, a smug smile on his face. Peter would think he had caused the man to die. He was enjoying destroying him bit by bit.

"What's so funny, Mr. Osborn?" a teasing voice said beside him. He looked over and Mary Jane was peeking at him from under the covers. He had almost forgot that she was still here; she had called him up last night when she got home, wanting to be picked up. The smile she was giving him almost made him feel guilty. Almost.

"I'm just so happy right now," he said as he pulled the covers off of her. She was still in his overly black t-shirt that he had given her last night.

"Me too," Mary Jane said as she rested her head in his lap, looking up at him. A bruise had formed around her mouth and her lip had been split open.

"I wish you'd tell me what happened to you," Harry whispered as he put his finger up to her cheek. She flinched slightly at the touch.

"It's nothing, Harry. Don't worry about it," she said and she fumbled around with the bracelet on her wrist.

"I can't help it if I worry about you," he tilted his head down and gave her a small kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes and snuggled up closer to him. Her hair smelled like a mixture of lilac and strawberries and he leaned into her, nuzzling her hair with his face.