Title: Human

Author: Faelai

Rating: R

Canon: Spiderman Movie-Verse with a touch of Comic-Verse

Disclaimer: These characters technically belong to Stan Lee and Marvel but then there is also Sam Raimi to give some credit to for bringing them to life and if we really want to get technical we could talk about all the other writers that have worked on Spiderman over the years, comics and movies and etc. But lets just say they're not mine and be done with it, yes?

Characters: Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson, brief cameo by Harry

Summary: She was the only one allowed beneath the thin red skin that was his armor.

-

In the lights of the bright city, people moved quickly through busy streets. The air hummed with energy which the people of New York City wore like a second skin. Everyone was buzzing with life, moving through their lives in a hurried fashion.

From above, it was like looking down upon an ant hill. The catacombs of the city hummed with electricy as people swarmed through, voices buzzing.

If the city was an anthill, the buildings were the branches upon which Peter swung day by day. His costume was his second skin, one of the many layers that cloaked him from curious eyes. The low light of the sun glistened on the strands of web that trailed behind him as he swung from one building to the next.

Ocasionally he would glance down, his senses constantly alert for any sign of danger. More and more these days, he found those curious eyes gazing up at him. Ordinary people who paused their lives and held their breath as they watched him in silence.

In the beginning, those glances had often been cast in supicion or fear. Only now did he see more people who looked to him with hopeful eyes, there was a newfound pride in some. They would stop in mid-step, their life slowing to a pause as they turned their eyes to the sky. Some never knew what they were looking for until they saw it for themselves. His shadow would pass over them and their minds would be eased.

They always turned back to their day, feeling a bit safer and knowing they were watched over by forces beyond their understanding. They may not understand who or what he was butmore accepted him, cast a smile in his direction and knew that they were safe. Spiderman was protecting them.

A slow knowledge was descending on Peter Parker as he made his way home, swinging easily through the city. The lives of the innocent in this city were risked every day and every moment of his life they weighed on him like a burden that could not be lifted. It was in rare moments of clarity when he realized that he lifted their burdens every day. Every time he spun a web to help someone, they felt a little bit safter. So did he.

Spiderman had fought many criminals that day, saved many lives and he was proud of himself in a small way. Beneath the mask Peter Parker was exhausted, but charged with a good energy that showed in every joyous arc he made through the air as he swung home.

Today was the first day he had a life worth returning to. The first time he wanted to take off the mask and truly be Peter Parker. Today, Mary Jane had come to him. When he had been drawn away by the sirens breaking the stillness inside of him he had seen in her eyes that she would be waiting for him when he returned. Peter had learned by now that his beloved Mary Jane was an extraordinarily patient woman. She had been waiting for him a long time.

At long last he saw the windows of his apartment gleaming in the distance. A low lamp was burning, the windows were held wide open, beckoning his arrival as he swung expertly through them and landed with a soft thud on the hardwood floor. Catching his breath, he stood to his feet and pulled off his mask.

The apartment was lit by the soft glow of candlelight, his gaze swept the apartment and took in everything immediately. Two cups of wine perched on his rickety table that was now covered by a soft cloth. A plate was also there and he could feel that the food was still warm. His apartment seemed much cleaner and cozier than it ever had before. For the first time it felt like home.

When his gaze landed on her, it stayed there and did not waver. Mary Jane was sleeping on his bed, her hands clutching his pillow as if she were reaching out for him. The beautiful whiite dress that she had arrived in was gone. She was clad instead in his clothing, an old pair of shorts and a faded t-shirt wiith a spider on the breast. The intimacy of the moment struck him and he inhaled a sharp breath. He brought the candle closer to the bed and its flickering light iilluminated her features.

The expression of peace on her face captured him and immediately he felt his senses calm. His nerves relaxed from the edge and he faded from Spiderman to Peter in one breath. The sight of her before him created an ocean of calm within him that he had never felt before. He no longer needed to fear her, he just needed her.

Kneeling beside the bed, he folded his arms across the covers and watched her sleep. He had never known this kind of simple happiness, the moment brought tears to his eyes and he smiled softly as Mary Jane murmured in her sleep. Sliding one hand across the bedspread, he brought it up to gently cup her face in his hand. She seemed so small before him, even when she seemed to stand so much higher above him.

She stirred slightly beneath his touch but did not waken. He saw her fingers tighten on his pillow and she let out a soft sigh.

"Peter..." his name spilled from her lips, igniting a slow fire inside of him. Her voice was husky from sleep but the longing in those five simple letters struck his heart with force. He shut his eyes as the tears burned them and swallowed hard.

When he opened them again, he found himself lost in the clear emerald gaze that he loved so dearly. Mary Jane's brilliant smile that she seemed to save just for him faded as she took in his tired appearance and tearful eyes. Quickly she sat up and touched his face with loving fingers.

"What took you so long?" Her voice was playful but he could hear the concern beneath her words. He hated that he made her worry, hated that she had waited for him all night. But the sight of her before him, her touch on his skin, made it all worth it. He loved her too much to hate himself for what he put her through. She was the only one who could lift his burdens.

"I..." Peter trailed off as he gazed into her eyes. He sighed heavily and smiled through his tears, "I got so lost, Mary Jane." He kissed her forehead softly and ran his fingers through her curly tresses.

"But I'm here now," he kissed her softly.

Mary Jane smiled, there was no fear in her eyes. "That's all that matters, Pete. All I ask is that you always come back to me."

Peter swallowed hard and studied her, beneath the brilliance of her smile there was a serious edge to her eyes. He nodded and wrapped his arms around her, her fingers danced over the textured fabric of his spiderman suit which he not yet removed. They held onto one another, and there was no time. There was no Spiderman or evil villains, there was no guilt preying on his mind for this blissful moment. He was in her arms and that was the only place he wanted to be.

"I can promise you that, Mary Jane Watson. You are all I ever want to come home to."

He could feel the beating of her heart, the way it slammed against his ribs at his words and he smiled. She had no idea how much he loved her. He had made her doubt it so many times, but she had always known.

"I made you dinner," she murmured against the warm fabric of his suit.

Peter smiled, silently in awe of the small things she had done for him. "Thank you." He made no move towards the food, he was famished but his hunger for her was greater than any physical need. He simply needed to be near her, to touch her, hold onto her and keep her safe. Only this could ease his mind.

"I should get changed," he voiced his thoughts aloud as he glanced down at himself. He moved to pull away from her but she would not let him go. She held onto him and glanced down at his chest with a smile.

Peter felt his stomach flutter at the fire in her eyes. She smiled coyly at him and shook her head, auburn locks falling around her face. He reached out to push them aside and her arms circled around his back. He felt her hands slip into the seam of his costume, how she knew where it was he could never guess. She parted it slowly, fingers trailing down his spine as she pulled away the layer of second skin that covered him.

Peter shivered beneath her touch, watching her eyes as they concentrated on her task with a quiet intensity. He allowed her to pull the fabric away from his chest, the upper part of his suit peeling slowly away from him.

Mary Jane smiled as if pleased with herself and flattened her palms against his bare skin. Peter felt his every sense come alive as her touch trailed over him. Her hands stopped when they reached his waist and she looked back into his eyes. There was a mischiveous glint in them that scared him deep inside but thrilled him at the same time.

"I have finally solved one of the mysteries of Spiderman that half the women in New York have pondered." Her coy whisper was like fuel to the fire.

"What's that?" Peter was breathless, his heart racing faster than the train he had halted weeks earlier.

Mary Jane giggled softly and Peter's heart jumped at the sound, "What you're wearing beneath this suit."

Peter's brow furrowed slightly, "I'm not wearing-" he felt his skin flush at the realization. "Oh."

She giggled again and Peter smiled shakily, "I didn't think anyone wondered..."

Mary Jane slid her hands up to tangle in his hair. "I know I did."

Peter was sure that his skin was as red as his suit by now, he lowered his eyes bashfully and Mary Jane's head fell back as she laughed.

His eyes were drawn instantly to the smooth curve of her neck as her hair fell away from her shoulders. He could not help but reach out to her, her laughter fading away as soon as she saw the expression on his face. He bent his head to her neck and kissed the smooth skin he found there, worshipping every inch.

There were rare moments when he was grateful for his heightened senses, this was one of them. The taste of her skin was something he savored as if it were a delicacy. His hands tangled in her hair as he pressed her close to him, unable to let go.

Her fingers tightened on the bare skin of his back, urging him on as if he could stop once the dam had been broken. Now that he had tasted her, he could never go back. He knew it with a certainty deep within him that terrified him, he knew now that he could never let her go.

"Mary Jane," his lips broke away from her skin with the murmur of her name. Instantly she looked to him, searching his eyes for the source of the desperation in his voice.

He hovered above her lips, head pressed to hers, eyes locked. "I love you so much," he whispered. Her eyes filled with tears but beneath he could see the light of her love shining through.

"Peter," she could not finish the thought, did not have to because her lips pressed to his was all she needed to say. They kissed hungrily, falling into one another in a way they could not understand. They needed each other in a way that was so much larger than themselves, she was his balance and in this moment, he could feel that.

For the first time, he felt truly human.

-

There was a heaviness in the air that weighed on him. Static electricity that crackled all throughout the city. His senses were buzzing with unknown danger as he swung through the rooftops of the city on glistening strands of web. He soared above it all, the tension thick around him like liquid, he felt sluggish, as if he could not keep up with it.

Something big was about to happen, he was sure of it. He was never fully prepared for what would come his way but when it did, he was always ready.

He was cloaked in the shadows, perched on the edge of a building when it happened. A shot ringing out through the night like a peal of thunder to his finely tuned senses. It shook him through to the core, the violence of the noise terrifying him.

Instantly he dove off the rooftop, soaring downwards in a free fall. The sounds of angry voices met his ears from afar and he recognized with a vague disgust that he was deep into the lowest slums of the city. It was no surprise that violence originated here but the urgency of his spider sense told him that this was no ordinary bar fight.

He landed with a soft thud on the wall of a building. Filth caked his suit wherever it came in contact with the wall. He could smell decay in this place, the very air was rank with fear and pestilence. Yet something pushed him onward, compelling him to investigate.

A familiar voice seemed to reach his ears and he stopped in his tracks, a cold fear washing over him. He could hear a man's voice, slurred with drink and senses intoxicated by unknown substance. No words were discernable but he knew that voice, he would know it anywhere. He would hear the accusing words until the day he died.

"You killed my father."

There were many things that haunted Peter Parker, but the knowledge of the pain he had caused the ones he loved was one thing he could never be rid of. He found himself pulled toward Harry by some unknown force. As he peered over the edge of the window, he knew that he could not turn away from his friend this time.

Harry was wavering in his vision, teetering back and forth on unsteady legs. There was a bottle clutched in one hand, empty of liquid though he occasionally attempted to take a swig. His eyes were bloodshot and Peter felt a sinking sensation of horror churn his gut when he saw the marks on Harry's arms. Blood was dripping from his nose and all around him were signs of depravity. Used syringes littered the floor, traces of white powder lingered on every surface.

A man stood before Harry, a beefy man who eeriely reminded Peter of the wrestler he had fought long ago on that fateful night. There was a gun clutched in his hand, still smoking from when he had fired it moments earlier. There was a charred hole in the wall just behind Harry's head, clearly he had been trying to scare him but Harry appeared unfazed. He was laughing drunkenly at the other man, increasing his anger with every moment. He did not seem to care whether he lived or died tonight.

"Listen to me you little shit," the man was cursing angrily at Harry, impotent with rage. "You better give me my money or your brains will be splattered against that wall next."

Harry stilled suddenly, struggling to focus his vision on the man before him. He leaned in close to the man who stiffened with rage. "Go ahead." He smirked cockily. "I dare you."

Peter had seen enough, with one swift movement he launched himself through the open window to land on the floor between the two men. A stunned silence filled the air that froze around Peter, and he moved through it with his typical speed. Before either man could react to his presences, he twisted up through the air and kicked the gun out of the drug dealer's hand. A sharp cry broke free from his lips and for one agonizing moment, Peter saw the terror that he inspired within this man.

He punched hard and the eyes went dark, the man falling limply to the floor at his feet. The gun clattered on the dirty boards and Peter's gaze followed it to Harry's feet.

Harry was staring at him, the drunken glaze of his eyes had not vanished but the apathy had. There was a fire in his eyes that burned Peter. Spiderman stood silently before Harry Osbourne, and inside Peter Parker wept for the loss of his friend.

Harry's eyes traveled down to the gun as Peter watched. He stood silent beneath his suit, both of them acutely aware of who he was underneath. Spiderman did not move a muscle as the man before him bent down to pick up the gun with trembling fingers. Peter's senses were alert and yet they sensed no danger coming from Harry.

They stood face to face for a long moment, the gun dangling loosely from Harry's numb fingers. Peter studied his friend, the shadows that haunted his eyes, the pale skin stretched taut over prominent bones. Harry had never looked more like his father than he did at that moment, wasted away and suffering. It broke Peter's heart to see his friend this way, Harry had been like his brother once and now he was a stranger who stood on the other side of the mask.

He watched the familiar chain reaction start within his friend. The tightening of the fingers around the cold steel of the gun, his jaw clenched as his eyes hardened into chips of ice.

Neither of them spoke, Peter did not move a muscle as Harry lifted the gun to rest the muzzle against his masked head. Peter knew he could dodge that bullet, knew that he could take Harry down before it even left the chamber. But he would not.

He saw the tears gathering in Harry's eyes as they stung even his own. To have come so far to this moment when there was nothing but secrets and lies hanging between them. Peter took a deep breath and lifted his arms to his mask, slowly peeling it off.

Harry shuddered as Peter unmasked himself, his eyes daring swiftly away and then back. He swallowed his revulsion and kept his grip tight on the gun, though Peter could feel the cold metal rattling against the now bare skin of his forehead.

"Harry," he spoke his friend's name through clenched teeth, swallowing his sorrow and guilt. "How could I tell you?" The honesty of his voice clearly surprised Harry, he could see the struggle in his friend and identified all too well.

"There is so much that you cannot understand..." Peter shook his head and swallowed hard. He could see the tears start to spill from his friend's eyes and the gun fell to the ground with a clatter.

Harry let out a low sob and stumbled backward, eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. Peter felt his walls crumble and he took a step toward him.

"Everyone has lied to me my whole life," Harry's voice was thick with disgust. "My father was an evil mastermind, my best friend is some sort of super-" he glanced at Peter and could not hide the disgust in his eyes, "freak."

But Peter had seen it, the shadow of emotion that flashed across him before he completed the thought. Something he had never expected from Harry, envy.

Harry had been born to a life of privilage but it was Peter who had always had what he wanted. A family that cared about him, the girl that Harry had once loved, fame that did not come from having money but from doing good. Above all else, Peter was special and that burned the other man up from the inside. Harry had no special abilities, nothing but his name. Every failure that mounted upon his shoulders, every disaster took its toll. He knew that he was nothing.

He hated himself for that, but he hated Peter more.

"You've taken everything from me," Harry's voice broke on a sob and he buried his face in his hands. "You've even taken my only friend."

Peter crouched on the floor beside him, tearful and pleading. "Harry, I am still your friend. I didn't know who the Goblin really was until it was too late." Peter hung his head with a sigh, "With his last breath, he begged me not to tell you the truth."

Something inside of Harry snapped, he exploded outward, launching himself at Peter. For the first time in years, Peter was caught unawares and felt pain shoot through him as he landed hard beneath Harry on the floor.

"How dare you!" Harry was striking him with all his force but the blows were nothing more than taps to Peter's hardened body. "You stole him from me! You took Mary Jane! I have nothing!"

Peter let him work out his rage until at last, Harry fell limply against him, breathing hard. "You were my only friend," Harry mumbled weakly. "My brother. You betrayed me and now I am nothing. I was supposed to be a success, Peter. I was supposed to have my picture on the front page of every newspaper, not you."

Peter took a deep breath and felt Harry pound his fist against his chest. "I never wanted this Harry." The words spilled from him, having been held in for so long that they longed to pour out. "I never asked for any of this and neither did you. Life isn't fair."

Harry stiffened and pulled away, turning his back on him. Peter sat up gingerly, careful not to set him off again. Harry was no longer teetering on the edge, he had fallen headfirst into the abyss. Peter could see it in him and it killed him that he could not save his friend from his own self destruction.

"How can you talk to me about what is fair?" Harry asked bitterly.

Peter felt anger spring up inside of him, it coursed through his limbs like wildfire and he felt his spider senses come rapidly to life.

"You have no idea what I've seen Harry!" The words were his venom, shooting out like the webbing that gathered in a ball between his fingertips. "You have no idea what its like to have a man die in your arms, to see the life fade from his eyes." Harry's eyes widened and he took a step back from Peter who was advancing slowly on him.

Peter stepped right up to him, getting in his face for the first time he could remember. He grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Look at you! You're wallowing away in a nest of drugs and disease, trying to destroy yourself! You are so much more than this! You choose to live in constant pain," Peter could not control his hand as it flew, slapping Harry hard across the face. He could still feel the sting of Harry's hand on his cheek, he wanted him to know how it felt. For once, he wanted someone else to suffer because he was sick of it.

Harry recoiled violently from the blow, his hand swinging up to strike Peter in return but he was too fast. Peter dodged his fist and caught it with one hand, twisting it around until Harry cried out in pain.

With his hand twisted firmly behind his back, Peter held onto Harry's shoulder and gritted his teeth. "Harry, you need to wake up. You need to save yourself because I can't."

Harry gasped in pain and spit at Peter's feet, "You did this to me!"

Peter sighed and released him from his grasp. Harry stumbled and crashed to the floor, groping blindly for something unknown. Peter watched him with a mixture of pity and anger as Harry across the floor. At last he discovered a syringe on the floor, filled with some vile looking fluid which Peter did not want to identify. Harry lifted it to his arm and Peter cried out in anger, swiftly jumping over to Harry and pulling the drugs out of his hand.

"No, Harry." Peter sighed as he stood over his friend. "You've done this to yourself."

Harry's wild eyes met his for a heartbeat and Peter shook his head, "I'm sorry."

Swiftly, he delivered a sharp blow to the back of his friend's head, rendering him unconscious. Silently, he slipped his mask back on and gathered Harry into his arms. His friend was unbelievably light in his arms, a frail husk of his former self. Peter held tightly onto him as he shot a line of webbing out into the night and left the dark room with two less tortured souls.

-

He was late again.

She tried not to notice as she bustled around his small kitchen, keeping herself busy. She hummed soft songs to herself under her breath, took pleasure in the mundane tasks that would keep her mind away from dangerous terrority.

Mary Jane had learned how to count every heartbeat as a clock ticking, every slow breath that fell from her was one she spent alone. Peter was nowhere to be found. She wished that she could share the burdens he carried, she saw how they weighed on him every night as he came home and crawled into her arms, drained beyond all rational thought. His body could endure it the beatings, but his heart was tired. Mary Jane was always there to wake it back up.

Alone in his apartment, she stood beside the window, looking out. Her mind was quieted from the little things, her hands were calm as the gripped the frame. She was ever patient, it surprised even her. She felt no anger toward him, though she knew in the long run it might change. There would always be problems, nothing was perfect. Standing before the open window, her skirt billowing in the breeze and the sounds of the quiet city soothing her thoughts, she felt safe. The man she loved was saving the city tonight, she could feel it in the peace of the air. No wailing cries of a siren split the night, no flames licked the sky, there was a calm that touched her.

Yet she wondered, if all was calm, why had he not yet returned to her?

It was thoughts like that which she quelled instantly, she could not worry about him every moment he was gone from her side. Peter could take of himself.

Still a cold feeling pervaded the warmth in her heart. She could see the candlelight dying slowly, wax spreading like a web through the cracks on the table. The food she had made for him was still waiting and she wished for simple things such as being able to eat a meal with him one day.

The shadows were spreading into the room and they clung to her, seeking to pry into the armor of her flesh and crawl over her mind. She stood before the open window and let the moonlight shine on her face. She did not let them in.

Mary Jane studied the stars, letting their light blur before her eyes until they streaked past her. There were tears in her eyes, sparkling with a silvery radiance as they glimmered over an ocean of green. A deep sorrow welled up within her, but where its source had sprung from, MJ could not know. There was something terribly lonely about the city at night, the way the building reached up to pierce the sky, block the light of the heavens. The people who crawled along the streets might never know what it was like to look down from high above, to know what it was like to soar freely.

Mary Jane had felt it before. She felt it whenever he was near. If Peter was the spider, then Mary Jane was the bird with broken wings. He had taught her to fly.

A shadow streaked across the stars, moving faster her eyes could see but her heart recognized him instantly. Her vision cleared and world came back into focus.

Mary Jane cleared her throat and hummed softly as she rested her head against the windowpane.

"Star, star, teach me how to shine. Teach me so I know whats going on in your mind..." Her voice carried softly on the breeze, warming the silence of the night with her words.

"Can you help me to see, when I'm lost in the dark? " Her voice trailed off into a whisper on the wind when she saw him. He was perched on the edge of the roof across from her, head in his hands. She knew that he could hear her.

"Star, star, teach me how to shine, shine. Teach me, so I know what's going on in your mind."

His head lifted and through the darkness, she could feel the heat of his gaze penetrate her. A shiver raced down her spine, the old familiar girlish excitement of knowing that Spiderman was near. It was compounded by the rush of love she felt whenever Peter was close to her.

She watched him as he rose from his stance on the roof, stretching to his full height on the rooftop. He was a silhoutte against the stars, a dream that vanished upon waking. He stretched his hand out to her and she felt the wind swirl around her as the familiar sound of his web striking stone resounded beside her. In the space of the last heartbeat that Mary Jane was counting, he stood beside her in the windowframe.

Her eyes followed him silently as he reached out to let the curtains close behind them. She smiled softly as he pulled off his mask, but the smile faded as soon as she caught a clear glimpse of the darkness in his eyes.

"Mary Jane," Peter stumbled slightly as he moved to her and she caught him, steadying him against her like a rock which witholds the tide.

Her arms slid around him, her body fitting into his so smoothly that for a moment, he forgot everything but the feel of her in his arms. He let out a shuddering breath and clenched his dirty fists in the loose fabric of her shirt. Mary Jane held onto him tightly, he never wanted her to let go.

She would not ask what happened, she knew that he would tell her when he was ready. He stumbled away from her, one hand constantly gripping her own. She felt the soft strands of his webbing encircle her wrist and wondered if he was aware of his own protective hold over her. It did not matter, because she would not pull away.

She stopped him before he fell to his knees and sat him down on the bed. Quietly, she peeled the costume away from his body. It had become such a familiar moment to her, the slow stripping away of Spiderman until all that remained was Peter. It was a sacred ritual to both of them, speaking of something so much larger that they dared not voice. She was the only one who was allowed beneath the thin layer of red skin which was his armor.

He watched her, the way her hair fell in soft waves around his face. The way her eyes drank in every inch of flesh as it was revealed. Her soft hands as they trailed over him, fingers tangling in the web he had unknowingly caught her in.

He pulled her to him, lifting her hand and pulling at the web. She met his eyes and smiled, fingers lacing through the gossamer cords to find his skin. He smiled sheepishly at her, "Sorry." He slowly withdrew the web back into his skin as Mary Jane held onto him.

"Spiders always leave a strand of web trailing behind them as they move from place to place." Mary Jane informed him, Peter smiled at the little facts she had stored away.

"You've done your homework," he said as he laced his fingers through hers. She gripped him tightly and shrugged. He was reminded of that moment so many years ago when he had stood beside her looking in on the spiders in the case. She had been so fascinated by them, informing him of obscure facts as he watched her eyes light up. That had been only moments before he had been bitten. Only moments before the world would change forever.

"Mine always lead back to you," he told her softly as he inspected the lines of her palm with one finger. Mary Jane felt tears prick at her eyes and she blinked them away. She brought one hand up to cup his face in her palm and watched his eyes soften as they always did beneath her touch. But yet the shadows lingered, piercing her soul.

"What is this new darkness in your eyes, Peter?" The honesty of her question caught him off guard, the profound sorrow that filled her voice. He swallowed hard and met her eyes, caught there by a web stronger than any he could spin.

"I saw Harry tonight," he admitted. The confession lifted a small weight from his heart but brought back the pain of the encounter. Mary Jane sighed and slid her arms around him, resting her head against his chest, she waited for him to speak.

"He's destroying himself, Mary Jane." His words caught on the lump in his throat and he swallowed hard, "and its because of me."

"Peter..." he silenced her protest with a soft shake of his head.

"All I've ever tried to do is protect him," he sighed. "I failed him. He's trapped in a downward spiral, falling to his death. I cannot catch him." His eyes were transfixed on some distant point, unseeing the world around him. He held his hands up and stared at them, the web that was tangled between his fingertips, the power he held in him waiting to be released. What good was it if he could not save one person?

Mary Jane's arms tightened around him and he let his hands drop to her, pulling her closer. She twisted in his arms until they were lying face to face on the bed. There was a sorrow in her eyes that broke his heart and he wanted to make it fade.

"Peter," she leaned her forehead against his, breath heating his skin. "Sometimes you have to let people save themselves."

"How can I do that," he breathed, "When I cant even save me?"

Mary Jane pulled back, eyes clashing with his, there was a determination there that made him feel safe. "I will save you."

Peter smiled, the darkness in him giving way to the light she exuded. "You already have, Mary Jane." He kissed her softly, capturing her in him with a single breath.

"Teach me how to shine," he whispered.

She did not have to be told twice.

-

fin

-

The song that Mary Jane sings is called 'Star, Star' by a wonderful Irish band called The Frames.

In the comic book universe, Harry really does become a drug addict at one point. I couldn't quite remember when it happened so I took some liberties.