357 Common denominator.
He dreams of masks. Green for Goblin, red for Spiderman, gold for Iron Man and black for Batman. They circle him like cartoon birds circle Tom the cat after he's been hit by a sledgehammer by Jerry the mouse. Back in the day when they made them enemies rather than friends. That was a long time ago. Harry can barely remember it.
The masks aren't talked about when he's awake. He's tossed himself head first into his studies at Med school. In his work at the clinic, though the hours aren't full time anymore now that school is so busy. He buries himself in his family responsibilities. Anything to not think too hard about the men in masks that rotate in and out of his life. It's in his sleep that they are there so clearly. Sometimes he sees a burlap sack and hears the whisper of what do you fear? Another mask, this one more crude than the others, but still there. Still so real.
"What do you fear, Mr. Osborn?" The question is more pronounced now. The person behind the mask more determined for an answer.
Harry doesn't answer. He refuses to acknowledge that the common denominator in these masks in his dreams are the feelings he has for the people who wear them. What does that say about him? What does it say about them?
He's a Psychology major. Maybe he shouldn't be so scared to look deeper into the men behind the masks.
"What do you fear, Mr. Osborn?" He's not wearing a mask now when he asks. There's a look on his face that Harry recognizes and it makes Harry look away. Crane always was so arrogant. "Tell me."
"I'll wear one next."
There's laughter. When he turns toward the sound of it, it's his father sitting where Crane had been. "Oh, Harold, you already do. You're just afraid it's going to slip and they'll see the real you."
"Yes."
The laughter drowns out his admission, and he wakes up in a cold sweat. When he turns to his wife who is sleeping in the bed next to him, he lets out a sigh of relief. She doesn't wear a mask. Kara is Kara, and for that he is grateful.
Muse: Harry Osborn
Fandom: Spiderman
Word count: 367
Author's note: The Crane referenced here is somethingtofear and is used with permission and love. The others mentioned are not used with permission, but still with love.
The masks aren't talked about when he's awake. He's tossed himself head first into his studies at Med school. In his work at the clinic, though the hours aren't full time anymore now that school is so busy. He buries himself in his family responsibilities. Anything to not think too hard about the men in masks that rotate in and out of his life. It's in his sleep that they are there so clearly. Sometimes he sees a burlap sack and hears the whisper of what do you fear? Another mask, this one more crude than the others, but still there. Still so real.
"What do you fear, Mr. Osborn?" The question is more pronounced now. The person behind the mask more determined for an answer.
Harry doesn't answer. He refuses to acknowledge that the common denominator in these masks in his dreams are the feelings he has for the people who wear them. What does that say about him? What does it say about them?
He's a Psychology major. Maybe he shouldn't be so scared to look deeper into the men behind the masks.
"What do you fear, Mr. Osborn?" He's not wearing a mask now when he asks. There's a look on his face that Harry recognizes and it makes Harry look away. Crane always was so arrogant. "Tell me."
"I'll wear one next."
There's laughter. When he turns toward the sound of it, it's his father sitting where Crane had been. "Oh, Harold, you already do. You're just afraid it's going to slip and they'll see the real you."
"Yes."
The laughter drowns out his admission, and he wakes up in a cold sweat. When he turns to his wife who is sleeping in the bed next to him, he lets out a sigh of relief. She doesn't wear a mask. Kara is Kara, and for that he is grateful.
Muse: Harry Osborn
Fandom: Spiderman
Word count: 367
Author's note: The Crane referenced here is somethingtofear and is used with permission and love. The others mentioned are not used with permission, but still with love.