Dark Spider

by TheMadTargaryen

Bash Blackwell knew his curiosity would get the better of him. He just never thought it would lead to him becoming host to a dangerous alien parasite called Venom. Now, with incredible powers, he must use them to protect the city from all the criminals that try to destroy it.

1. A day in the life of Bash Blackwell

Hey everyone, MadTargaryen here with a brand new story!

I am so excited to finally be able to post the first chapter of this story. Do you know how long I have been working on this story...no actually, I should say chapter. Do you know how long I have been working on this first chapter? Two years. Yes, you read that right. Two goddamn years of writing and researching and drafting and revising and finally typing it all out. What you are about to read is the eighth revision of this chapter. There were so many things, big or little, that I was just not satisfied with and I felt I had to start all over. Hopefully, all that work and effort will have paid off.

Now about the story. I started writing this story when I found out they were making a Venom movie and saw that first amazing trailer back in 2018. Venom has always been a favorite character of mine since watching the 90's spider-man cartoon. However, my knowledge of Venom only went as far as the cartoon since I was not big on comics as a kid. I knew that if I was going to make a Venom story, I needed to make sure I got all my info in order.

I have read through the wiki pages and watched various YouTube videos which was a big help in getting a list of powers and abilities and weaknesses and made myself a cheat sheet with all the information I collected so that I have it on hand. I am also reading a couple of comics to help me out as well.

I plan on creating original content for the story but I am also going to be using elements from other places to help me out as well. I have been reading The Ultimate Spider-Man comic series and the Venom 2018 comic series as well to get a better idea of Venom and to write a character that juggles both high school and being a superhero. For movies, my guides were Venom (of course) and The Amazing Spider-Man films with Andrew Garfield. I know that those Spider-Man films are the least favorable but I happen to like them and I think it's concept will fit well with this story. I am also using the concept of an anime and manga series I recently began to watch and read called Parasyte the maxim, which deals with an average teenager who becomes a host to an alien parasite and together they fight against other more parasites that inhabit human bodies. It's a really good anime and I figured I could use it's concept in the story as well.

Now, before I let you go, I want to inform you that I am a slow burn author. I am not the type that rushes the character into situations or relationships or anything like that. I like to build up to it to make it more natural. That being said, don't expect this chapter or possibly the next chapter to have OC bonded to the symbiote. Right now, I just want to build the characters, especially the OC's so that their presence can seem less out of place. I know with OC's they are already out of place but in my stories, I try my best to make them seem like they are a part of the canon story and for this story I want them to have a natural relationship with the canon characters, and I want to write how he comes to acquire the symbiote and just show him being bonded to it. I try to be thorough and sometimes, it is going to be a bit long-winded but it is all for the sake of quality writing.

All right, I think I have said all I need to say right now. I do have another Author's Note at the end of the chapter with more information. I want to explain a bit more about the future of this story as well as the OC and canon characters I currently have set up to appear in the story. So if that interests you, please stick around and read it and let me know what you think.

Here we go, enjoy the first chapter!

Dark Spider

CH.1

A day in the life of Bash Blackwell

Darkness. That's all Bash saw around him was the claustrophobic pitch darkness that made him feel as if he was confined in a coffin that made him panic.

"Sebastian? Sebastian?" Called out a frightened female voice. The one in question, Bash, recognized that voice. "Bash?!"

"Mom?" He frantically called out to her, his voice echoed like he was in a wide empty room. She sounded worried. Scared even and it made him begin to panic more.

"Bash!" She cries out to him. She sounded so close but he could not see her or anything for that matter.

"Mom, where are you?! I...I can't see you! I can't see anything!"

"Baby, I am so sorry!" His mother sounded like she was sobbing now. "I am so...so sorry for putting you through this!"

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Bash cried out to his mother looking around for her, only to find nothing but pitch darkness. "What's going on?"

"Please, don't hurt him! He's just a boy! He has nothing to do with this!"

"Who's here?!" Bash yelled. "Mom, who are you talking to?!"

"Sebastian, I love you so much." His mother said calmly as she tried to hold back her heavy sobs.

Then he heard her screams. Her terrible terrified pleading screams that pierced his ears and frightened him even more.

"Mom!" Bash continued to yell out for her. He wanted to see her, to help her but he felt so useless. So helpless.

"MOM!"

"MOM!"

"MOM!"

Bash's eyes snapped open, the fear of his nightmare still clear in his wide frightened gaze.

His chest heaved as he took in large deep breaths to calm his tense shaking body. He felt like he hadn't taken a breath in a long time and his heart raced as if he had been running for miles.

It took a few moments for him to calm down and realize he was in his bedroom, though the room looked blurry and scrambled to find his glasses on the bedside table and put them on. The nightmare felt so real to him that he could still hear everything from his mother's scared voice to her blood-curdling screams.

For a bit, he just lay there in his big soft bed, trying to relax and put the bad dream back in the back of his mind. This wasn't the first time he's had this nightmare but it doesn't get any easier.

As he shifted around, he realized his grey bed sheets were tangled around his bare legs from the constant tossing and turning he did throughout the night.

Feeling slightly better, Bash sat himself up and scooted to the edge of the bed, resting his arms on his lap as he rubbed his hands up his face and through his messy brown hair.

He hated that nightmare. It always switched between this one and another, the car wreck that took his mother's life and six weeks of his own and has forever changed what remains. Both of them were horrible but this one, in particular, messed with him the most but he could never figure out why. It had been days since he last was last plagued by it but apparently his mind didn't want to stop the torment he already endured on a daily basis.

Taking one last slow deep breath, Bash removed his hands covering his face to glance around his naturally dimly lit bedroom, just to make sure it was still real. He needed this comfort right now to calm down.

It was a large open bedroom, far too large for him that was still practically empty, even with his belongings from his former home filling up whatever space available, there was still a lot to be used, with his large bed and a rather large sturdy dark oak desk that carried his laptop and school books he left out when he did his homework the night before as well as a Yashica Electro 35 brand camera. Not far off is a fairly large bookcase built into the wall filled with novels varied between modern and classics. On the other side of the room, it was laid out like a small living area with a large TV mounted against another wall above a large fireplace with a set of black leather couches and a wooden coffee table facing toward it and two doors on either side of that wall, one leading to the rest of the residence while the other leads to his personal bathroom.

To the right of his bed, the wall was covered completely by floor to ceiling windows that gave him a gorgeous view of the city and Central Park just across the street. He hardly ever had to turn on the lights in his room because of the brightness of the surrounding city flooded in giving him more than enough light for him. Even at night he had enough light to filter through his room from the surrounding buildings of Manhattan and even the neighboring Midtown.

It was a vast contrast to his old bedroom in San Francisco, where he lived with his mother. This whole house was a vast contrast in fact. He was so used to the calm and quiet suburbs of his quaint home, that he was still having a hard time getting used to this giant mansion-like penthouse located in the upper Eastside in Manhattan. Even before when he used to visit as a child, it felt strange to be here sleeping in this big room and big bed given to him by his father and stepmother when he came over during the holidays and designated days he stayed with them.

Carefully, he began to stand up from the bed. His face scrunched in discomfort and a hiss of pain escaped from his teeth clenching mouth. His shaky right hand moved from his right leg where he held on with a firm grasp as his body slowly stood up, his back hunched and he leaned a little to the right. He wobbled for a moment as he tried to gain his footing. A feat that has become difficult for a while.

His legs were not what they used to be as a result of the car accident. Amongst the array of injuries he received that night, the most prominent was the damage to his spine that left him with substantial nerve damage that made the doctors say it was very unlikely he would ever walk again.

After a year and a half of intense physical therapy and many surgeries have proved those doctors wrong and allowed Bash to walk again, a miracle according to the doctors that treated him. While he could indeed stand and walk on his two feet, he still needed a cane and had a limp that the doctors said would never go away. The damage was too great and his spine is far too fragile to continue any further surgery without undoing all the progress they have made and end up making him completely paralyzed. In short, this was as good as it was going to get for him. It was a hard pill for Bash to swallow.

After stretching as best as he could, Bash adjusted the waistband of his black boxer briefs and fixed the loose-fitting grey tank top before reaching ahead to the cane leaning against the bedside table and gripped it tightly with his left hand as he put his weight on it as he found his footing. He hated the cane as it drew so much attention to him but it is a necessary accessory, a hard lesson he learned when he tried to walk without it and fell, much to the annoyance of his father who called the incident a learning experience and to not do that again. The only good thing about the cane is that it's pretty dope, made from ebony wood with a sterling silver handle. It belonged to his late grandfather, William Mercer Sr. Bash never got the chance to meet him but he figured it was a good thing since it was half of the man's fault for keeping his father away.

Walking across the cold wooden floor, Bash made his way toward the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Heading to the far end of the bathroom, past the large walk-in closet and wall of counter space, Bash stopped at the rather spacious glass cubicle of his shower where he opened the door and stepped inside.

While he had been recovering in the hospital, Bash's father, William Mercer, or Bill for short, had made sure to make some adjustments around the mansion to make it easier for his son when he comes home. One of them was remodeling his shower to be roomier and have a place for him to sit rather than stand while he showered. Bash felt embarrassed having to use it. It made him feel like he was an old man that couldn't even stand on his own for too long.

Truthfully though, he needed it, as much as he hated to admit it. Especially after he took a very hard fall when he last attempted to shower while standing and slipped on the wet floor and had to get help from the nurse that took care of him at home after he left the hospital. The first of many falling incidents that he has been and by far the most embarrassing to date.

Once he adjusted the water to the desired temperature, Bash undressed and tossed his clothing into the nearby hamper before carefully stepping into the steaming shower.

The warm water felt great as it cascaded down his hunched back as he sat down in the shower. Already having washed his body and hair, he used the rest of the time to relax and prepare for the day.

Since leaving the hospital, it has become a regular requirement for him to have physical therapy sessions to keep his limbs from getting stiff. He normally does his PT at home in the private gym but today, he needed to go in for a check-up. Then there is the session with his shrink. This one he was reluctant to go to but his father was insistent that he go see someone to talk about the trauma the accident left behind.

Bash turned off the water and limped to the glass door, holding on to metal rails that lined the walls. Opening the door, he grabbed the grey towel hanging from the nearby hook and dried his hair and body before wrapping it around his waist.

Wiping the fog from the mirror, Bash stared back at the gaunt pale reflection of what was once a rather handsome boyish face. His frown seemed to be his default expression for a while now. His jawline was shadowed with dark stubble of coarse hair beginning to grow back after his last shave nearly two weeks ago.

After brushing his teeth, he combed through his shaggy mop top to look somewhat presentable, letting a few strands relax on his furrowed brow just above his tired blue eyes behind the thick magnifying lens of his glasses. Another necessary accessory that is a result of the car accident. His eyes were badly damaged and affected his sight greatly.

Looking down at the rest of his upper body. He was never buff or muscular before the accident but he could see the reduction of what little muscle he did have disappeared as any form of physical activity besides walking and what was allowed in PT was decreased to almost non-existent. Now, he looked like a gangly slouching stick. The damage to his spine causes him to hunch that even affects his height.

Going through his closet for an outfit to wear, Bash passed by the sets of school uniforms his father purchased for him to wear to school. Illythia Academy, an ultra-exclusive prep school where he now attends. The school has a fairly strict dress code that requires all students to wear the appointed uniform on campus. Fortunately, they weren't too stuffy about how you wore it, as long as it was appropriate. The school once tried to fight how the students wore the altered uniforms but were ultimately met with angry parents AKA New York's rich and powerful who also handsomely donate money to the school. Not wanting to upset the financiers of the school, the administrators bowed down to the demands and allowed the students to alter the uniforms, within reason.

Passing by the uniforms, Bash made his way through the rest of the closet. Much like his bedroom, the closet itself was far too large and his clothes barely took up one side of a wall, leaving a big portion of open space available.

After finding an appropriate outfit to wear and putting it on, Bash walked over to the mirror to make sure everything he wore looked fine; a pair of black jogger sweats and a grey hoodie with the name and mascot of his old school in San Francisco. Next was the leg brace he had to put on his right leg every day. It was uncomfortable to wear but it was a requirement when he began walking. After strapping the brace on his bum leg, he slipped on a pair of athletic shoes to wear to his appointments he had to go to today.

After one last look over in the mirror, Bash made his way to the desk and grabbed the messenger bag with everything he needed to take with him while he was out for the day and exited the room.

Walking down the main staircase has become a real chore for Bash. Actually, walking around anywhere in this mansion was a chore for him these days with it being such an expansive residence.

Stepping down from the final step, he gave a sigh of relief at finally having made it to the leveled ground of the mansions foyer.

Turning to his left, he walked to the kitchen, inhaling the very delicious scent of breakfast as he made his way over.

As soon as Bash entered the kitchen, he was met with the curious eyes of his family as they heard the tapping of his cane on the wooden floors caused them to look up from their meals. Well, only most members of the family were in attendance.

Valerie, his stepmother, was dressed up in her work attire, a pristine black suit and white button-down blouse and her dark brown hair pulled up in a perfect bun, making it apparent that she was going into her office today at her father's law firm.

His half-brother, Robbie, was surprisingly dressed for the day given the early time it is and the fact it was a weekend, meaning he was likely going somewhere today.

"Sebastian, good morning!" Came the cheerful greeting from Valerie, who put down the IPad she was most likely reading her work emails. Robbie barely acknowledged his presence with a slight turn of his head before going back to whatever he was reading on his phone while eating what he took from the spread of breakfast laid out in the center of the table.

Valerie has always been nice to Bash, despite him not being her son biologically. Since finding out her husband Bill had another son and wanted to be in his life, she made sure to make him feel welcome in their home. Valerie has made this more apparent when Bash moved in by taking time off her busy schedule at her family's law firm to stay and take care of him the first few months he was released from the hospital.

"Good morning." Bash greeted back with a small smile as he made his way to a vacant seat and collected a plate and silverware in front of him and started filling the dish with bacon eggs and his favorite, French toast. "This all smells delicious. Thank you so much, Valerie. You really did not have to go through the trouble of making all of this."

"It's no problem at all." she said after taking a sip of her coffee. "I was up early anyway and feeling the need for french toast myself."

Bash didn't have to see him to know that Robbie was rolling his eyes. He responded to the act like he's been doing since moving here, and the many times he visited since he was ten, he ignored him. There was no point in trying to make peace with someone when the other party is not willing to try. The only thing he could do was to avoid him as best he could, which was easy considering Robbie mostly stayed at the dorms at school and when he did come home, well, the house was big enough to where they won't run into each other. Today is one of those few days where they happen to cross paths. It was a holiday weekend and Bill had Robbie come home to spend time with the family rather than his friends. Of course, Bill ended up having to go into work and has barely been home and everyone home has stayed in their respective sections in the Penthouse.

"Hey, Ryan's here. I am going to head out." Robbie announced as he stood up from the table. "I promised Ryan and Liz and the others I'd go and hang out with them today and head back to the dorms."

"Oh, okay…" Valerie said, sounding a little despondent.

"What's the matter, mom?" Robbie asked with only a mild curiosity.

"I just thought you'd be here for one more day. We hardly ever see you."

Bash did not like that she included him with that "we" since he does in fact see Bash at school as they do have more than a few classes together but also because he does not care.

Robbie sighed and rolled his eyes at his mother. God forbid he had to spend time with his mother rather than with his fellow entitled douchebag friends awaiting him outside of the building.

"Mom, I already skipped out on hanging out with the guys on Friday because Dad was supposed to be home but he bailed on us, again. And Coach wants me to go in early on Monday to make up for the time I missed and it's just easier to do that if I'm already on campus."

Valerie sighed. As his mother she had the authority to keep him here but it was not satisfactory enough for Robbie and ultimately she would end up with an already unhappy seventeen-year-old being even angrier. Plus, Robbie did make a valid argument about it being easier to go to practice if he was already on campus. Even she, a lawyer herself, can tell that as well.

"All right Sweetheart. Go. Have fun." She said to her son. Robbie quickly got up and without missing a beat as he grabbed his backpack and duffel bag from the floor. "When will you be back?"

"Uh...I'm not sure." Robbie stopped at the kitchen doorway and responded as if distracted and barely looked up from his phone screen as he texted one of his friends. "I got a lot of homework and Basketball practice to get ready for the season. I just think I'm going to be too tired and busy to travel back over here anytime soon. I'm sorry, mom."

Valerie smiles and shakes her head. "No it's absolutely fine. Go and have a good time with your friends. Be safe and call me when you get to school."

"Yup." Robbie said without looking at his mother and continued on his way out of the room and disappeared after turning out of the doorway of the kitchen.

There was a moment of silence in the kitchen with only the sounds of silverware gently scraping against the plates and the occasional light slurping of coffee.

"Did Bill already leave for work?" Bash asked Valerie as he reached for the half-full coffee pot and poured himself more of the hot beverage into his empty mug. He had heard his father come in late last night when he snuck into the kitchen for a late-night snack. From his lack of appearance here at the table, it's safe to assume it was only a quick stop, most likely to change clothes and freshen up a bit before heading back to the office.

"Yes, he did." Valerie replied to the question, a tinge of remorse could be heard in her tone. "He was unexpectedly called in to work earlier and had to leave as soon as possible. But he said he would take you to lunch after your appointments."

It didn't surprise Bash that his father wasn't present. Being the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company like Mercer Industries, William Mercer was often at work, overseeing the many divisions of the company and making sure everything was running smoothly to continue their success. Bash couldn't be mad at his father though because all this hard work was to make the world a better place one project at a time.

"Maybe you could join us for lunch?" Bash offered. He knew he wasn't the only one being put aside by William.

"Oh, that's sweet of you Sebastian." Valerie smiled at him kindly at the offer. "But I have meetings all day today at the office. But this will be good for you and your father since you two haven't spent time together in a while."

Bash gave her a nod and a small smile before returning to his plate and allowed the silence to return to the room.

"Do you have everything ready for tomorrow?" Valerie asked him. "Assignments completed and textbooks gathered?"

"Yes to all." Bash chuckled. "Everything is finished. All I gotta do is pack everything up in my backpack. It's all over my desk."

"Good." Valerie smiled at him and sighed. "So, how has school been so far? Do you like Illithya Prep?"

"Uh…" Bash began. He knew what he wanted to say but it would not be the answer that Valerie would expect to hear. It has been a tough road for all of them and she has helped him every step of the way and has seen the progress that he's made from being wheelchair-bound and unlikely to ever walk again to overcoming that obstacle and walking with the aid of a cane. She is so excited for him to be able to go back to school and begin the process of having a normal life. Semi-normal, at least.

"...Yeah, it's really great." Bash responded with a forced smile as he told her what she wanted to hear and returned to his meal. He couldn't tell her how he really felt about going to Illithya Preparatory. A whole new school, with his douchey entitled half-brother and his equally douchey entitled friends, no less. However, he can't say no to their offer. The school, despite the students it caters to, is a great institution with guaranteed acceptance to a great college and career. Then there is the large tuition they already paid for him to attend (not that the thousands of dollars spent on tuition made a dent in their wallets) and all the help they gave him during his recovery that made him concede to the idea of attending the exclusive school. It was the least he could do for them.

"I know that it wasn't an easy recovery for you, Sebastian," She softly told him. It was nearly impossible to hide anything from Valerie as she had a knack for finding tells in people's mannerisms and tone of voice, even the slightest bit. "but I want you to know how proud your father and I are at how far you've come. You have managed to surpass the expectations of every physician that has treated you and now you get to resume a normal life once again."

Normal? Life was never going to be normal for him ever again. Nevertheless, Bash did not want to tell her that in the event that he could hurt her feelings. After all, she is just trying to make him feel better about the drastic changes. She is a mother after all. It is instilled in her to make her kids feel better.

With a simple kind smile, he thanked her for the encouragement and resumed eating his meal before he had to leave for his appointments.

xXx

xXx

Bash was eternally grateful for the elevator or it would have taken him forever to get down the tall building's long flight of stairs down to the garage. Another thing he was grateful for about the elevator is the fact it is a private one directly linked to the penthouse. With no worries of other boarders and constant stops along the way down, he could relax and enjoy the solitary moment to himself.

The elevator car dinged and the light on the button labeled PG (Penthouse Garage), making the car slow to a gentle stop when it reached the desired location. Bash stood up straight from his leaning position as he readied himself to exit.

When the doors slid open, Bash was greeted with the wide-open space of the private garage. The garage for the other residents of the building was one floor above this one.

Nearly half of the parking spaces were occupied by gorgeous vehicles that his father collected over the years and a few he even drove to work.

Bash loved to come down here once in a while and admire the impressive collection of exotic classic luxury and sports cars and even a few exclusive and custom models. He would even sit in a few that he liked the most and imagine himself driving around town in them.

His sight though was set on the one vehicle that belonged to him. The gorgeous jet-black Ducati Scrambler parked far back in one of the aisles waiting patiently to be ridden.

Dust was beginning to settle on the motorcycle once more, making Bash take a mental note to remember to come down here and give it a good cleaning.

It was his prized possession. A gift from his father for his fifteenth birthday. He was shocked to see his dream bike being delivered to his house but not as shocked as his mother was when she saw the "dangerous" vehicle. She was furious at first and nearly called Bill demanding he take it back but when she saw how happy Bash was for the gift, she decided to keep it and make him wait until he got his license in one year.

He, unfortunately, never got the chance.

It was upsetting to him that he never got to ride his beloved bike and even more so knowing that he might not ever get a chance to. Many times he tried to sit on the dark leather seat but his bad leg made it so uncomfortable for him to sit on that there would be no way for him to ride it for long periods of time, if at all. Bill and Valerie most likely would never let him ride it with his permanent condition.

With a heavy sigh, Bash gave the bike one last pat on the handlebars before walking off toward the exit to the alleyway.

The family's driver, a mid-twenties man of average height was leaning against the hood of the trunk engrossed in his phone when Bash came through the garage's exit.

"Roy!" Bash bellowed over the loud Fifth Avenue traffic.

Roy stood up fast and pocketed the phone before opening the back door for Bash.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want you on your phone when you're on the clock?!" Bash asked him with a condescending tone. "Your girlfriend can wait until your shift is over."

Roy said nothing but kept a blank expression on his face.

"I expect nothing less than the best from my household staff and yet here you are, my driver, slacking off once again. Tell me, what do you have to say for yourself?"

The two remained quiet for a moment before the two of them burst out laughing and shook hands.

"You know, you almost sound like Bill." Roy chuckled as he helped Bash get into the black town car.

"Really? I was trying to sound more like Robbie."

"You need to add a bit more of snark to your tone." Roy advised before handing Bash his cane and closed the door. Bash let out a small chortle as he watched his driver walk around the car to the driver seat and open the door. "Remember, you are trying to mimic a pompous ass."

"I'll be sure to remember that next time." Bash said as he felt the car start and begin to make its way into the morning traffic.

"So, how has it been so far going to school alongside the 'young elites' of New York?" Roy asked him after driving for some time. "Are you enjoying your time in the world of High Society yet?"

"I don't really have much of a choice in the matter." Bash answered him as he stared out at the passing traffic. It hasn't exactly been a debut per se, the members of New York's upper-class society are aware of Bash's existence with the Mercers being such an old and high profile family but since his accident, Bash has been keeping a low profile and only left the Penthouse for appointments, Bill and Valerie's idea to keep him safe. Being an illegitimate child to a man of a powerful family was one thing, but to be a crippled illegitimate child was another. "Since this is my life now, I have to get used to it."

"Come on. It can't be that bad. I mean you're a Mercer. You practically own New York and I think a country or two. You're basically New York royalty."

"First off, I'm a Blackwell." Bash corrected him on the surname. There was a reason his mother gave him her last name instead of his father's and it must have been a good one too if it left him off of the birth certificate and not mentioning Bill to him for the first ten years of his life. His mother Amy would have most likely never told him about his father but fate and the bad luck of being chased by a dog and nearly impaling himself while trying to jump a rod iron fence brought Bill back into the mix once again. Bill was shocked to find out Amy bore and raised his son and was angry that she never told him that she was even pregnant. After the brief shock of finding out he has another son, Bill went to help out right away by providing the hospital with the blood type they needed to give Bash for the surgery. They were low on the rare blood type that he is and Bill had sent an order to have plenty delivered to the hospital to help out. He even had his own blood drawn and given to Bash first to help prepare for the surgery since they both share the same blood type. After that ordeal, Bill decided he wanted to be in his life as much as possible.

Bash has nothing bad to say about his father, Bill is a good man from what he can see but the man is so busy and hardly at home that he feels like he doesn't know the man other than what he sees in newspapers and magazines. From what they say, his father is making the world a better place. How can he be mad at a man that is doing that?

"And second, I don't own anything other than a few things in my room. The Mercers own everything else."

That was not his own thinking but an opinion highly regarded within the Mercer family. With the exception of Bill and Valerie, the rest of his family believes he doesn't deserve anything from the family, not the fortune or the prestige that comes with being in the family but like the cowards they are, only say it in whispers amongst themselves. The one who openly expresses this is Valerie's father, Mason Reeves, who has on many occasions made Bash feel unwelcome whenever he visited and even openly doted on Robbie in front of him. It all would have made Bash feel terrible if he actually cared, but he didn't and still doesn't to this day. He doesn't want his father's money or the status that comes with the family.

The rest of the car ride was relatively quiet with the exception of the music from the radio and the muffled noise of the city beyond the confines of the car.

The car finally slowed as they made it to their destination; Mercer Medical Facility. One of the many places in New York with his father's name on it. It was here in this building that he woke up from his coma after the accident. His father wanted to keep him close and with doctors that he trusted (and employed) and was treated for the remainder of his recovery.

Roy drove the car into the parking lot and parked it in the space reserved for the Mercer family and got out of the car. Bash began to unbuckle his seatbelt as Roy opened the door for him. Taking the cane Bash handed to him with one hand, Roy held out his other hand for Bash to hold on to while he got out of the car.

Bash hated that he requires this much help to do something as simple as getting out of a car but he figured it could be worse when he remembers what it was like for him before when he needed help completely to do the simplest of tasks.

With as strong of a grip as he could get, Bash held on to Roy's arms as he got out of the car.

"You good?" Roy asked as he carefully watched Bash stagger a bit to gain his footing.

"Yeah I'm good." Bash answered and reached out for his cane that Roy gave back to him, relieved to put his weight on it. "Hey, it's gonna be a while since I have two appointments today so why don't you head on out and I'll call you when—"

"Oh ho ho," Roy chuckled and shook his head. "I don't think so. The last time you told me that, you snuck out and wandered off and I had to drive all over Manhattan looking for you and getting in trouble with your dad so I am going to stay right here and wait for you. I even have a sack lunch and a book in the passenger seat to keep me company and Valerie has informed me that security will be ready to alert me when you are done with your appointments so don't even try to sneak out any other way."

Bash groaned in annoyance. He didn't mean to get Roy in trouble that last time, he just wanted to get out for a bit on his own. He had just been told that this progress will most likely not go any further and he just needed some fresh air as he processed the information. He didn't realize he had been walking for as long as he did until he found himself feeling lethargic and his bum leg throbbing and when he checked his phone, he found it was still off so that it did not interrupt his sessions and when he turned it back on, he found a bunch of missed calls and text messages from Roy and Valerie and even his father, which surprised him that Bill found time to call him or that someone managed to even get a hold of him to tell him what happened. Needless to say, they were both angry at him and at Roy, which cooled off when he admitted that Roy was not to blame for what happened.

Roy did not get into too much trouble, thankfully since it wasn't his fault in the first place but he was told to keep a better eye on him when they went out, which only mildly insulted Bash because he felt like he was being treated like a child that required a babysitter but he understood that it comes with good intentions and thus did not take it too hard. He also apologized to Roy for putting him in that predicament which Roy accepted but since then he has been keeping an annoyingly close eye on him.

Reluctantly, Bash agreed to not wander off into the city and made his way to the elevator and pushed the button to the floor he needed to go.

The check-up went well, according to the doctor. He saw no reason that the semi-healed injuries should keep him from attending school in person. He told Bash to take it easy, make sure to find the quickest ways to each of his classes and to be sure to use the cane at all times. Great...just great.

When that appointment was over, Bash left the exam room and made his way for his next appointment on another floor of the building.

Dr. Marlene Sanders is Mercer Medical's resident mental health professional and the second appointment for Bash Blackwell.

Bash was reluctant to speak with a psychotherapist when his father first suggested he see her because he felt he did not need to see her. Bill told him that it would be good for him to help him cope with the traumatic experience of the accident and the loss of his mother as well as his recovery. Having a healthy mind could help with the physical healing, his father told him.

The first few sessions were the most difficult. Bash was not used to opening up and divulging in his feelings, especially to complete strangers but Dr. Sanders proved to be a very good therapist for him. She was an unbiased party that allowed Bash to say what he feels and what he thinks without worrying of being judged. Of course, he understands that is what a therapist is supposed to be like but when they work for your father, it can be a bit difficult. Bash worried that his father would try to coerce the doctor to tell him what is being said during the appointments. However, she assured him that no one, not even his father could convince her to break the doctor-patient confidentiality agreement she made when she took him in as a patient. This put him somewhat at ease but he still did not make it easier for her.

"How is everything at home?" She asked him once they both settled on their respective seats opposite of each other. Her clipboard was placed on her lap with a pen held ready to write while the recording device stood next to the cold pitcher of water and the empty clear glass cups on the coffee table between her and Bash like the many other sessions they have had. "Anything new since our last session?"

Bash shook his head.

"Not much has changed. I do my schoolwork and turn it in and do a bit of PT in the gym at home."

Dr. Sanders nodded as she wrote some notes on her clipboard. "How has your physical therapy been going?"

"Oh, the same as the last session...and the one before that...and before that." he told her as he relaxed into the cushioned back of the loveseat he occupied. "He has me walk on a treadmill for a while and then walk between two balancing beams for a while but he changed it up a little and had me ride the stationary bike."

"That's wonderful!" The doctor said with a smile. "How did that go?"

"I fell trying to get my leg over the bike." Bash replied, rubbing his bum leg. "So that might not be part of my PT again. Not when it could upset Bill."

"I'm sure that isn't true and you will be able to walk properly again and everything will go back to normal.

Bash scoffed a laugh and shook his head.

"Normal." He muttered. "You know, you are the second person to tell me that everything is going to go back to being normal but the truth is, it's not."

He stood up from the sofa and staggered a bit as he did. Dr. Sanders made to get up and help him but Bash raised a hand between themselves to stop her.

"Nothing is going to be normal for me." He told her once he gained his bearings. "Normal would be me living back in San Francisco in my home with my mom, not in some ostentatious Penthouse with people I barely know. Normal is me going my high school and finishing high school with the friends I left behind."

"You're right, I should not have said that." The doctor calmly apologized to him. "Of course nothing is going to be normal again but you can't go back to that normal. What did Dr. Stephen tell you after your last visit with him?"

"He said that I am looking at the possibility of having reached my peak of recovery. Plateauing, he called it." Bash recalled the appointment. As amazing as a neurosurgeon he is, not even Dr. Stephen Strange could wholly repair the injuries he sustained. "So basically, this is as good as it's gonna get."

"I know it doesn't seem like much progress but do you remember how you were in the beginning? What they said about you?" Dr. Sanders inquired. "They said you might not walk, talk or even be you. Now look at you. Defying the odds! It might not be the progress you expect but what I see is a great deal of success. It could be a lot worse."

Bash sighed. She was right. As much as he did not want to admit it, he is a success story. Even if it is not the type of success he had hoped for. Every time he goes in for his physical therapy, he sees people going through what he does with worse injuries than him who somehow find a positive outlook on their situation.

"I just...I just hate that...that this happened to me." He said. He felt ashamed to say it but it was the truth. "I had so much going for me and all of it went away in a blink of an eye. My life. My...my mom..."

Bash had to stop. He could feel his emotions begin to overcome him and had to stop talking to compose himself. His mom was still a touchy subject for him and hated it when he had to talk about her but he knew it was an important part of these sessions.

"That's okay to feel this way, Sebastian." Dr. Sanders gave him a kind smile. "You are not alone in this matter. I have treated many patients that have felt the same way."

Bash nodded and relaxed back into the couch once again.

"I'm sorry about that." He apologized. "I...I just had another dream about my mom. Again. Even over a year, I still can't seem to get over what happened."

"It was a very traumatic experience you endured. There are many people that have difficulty trying to come to terms with their trauma." She gave him a caring smile. It must be nice for her that he was being more open today.

"What happened in the dream, Sebastian?" She asked him, sounding a little interested. "Was it similar to the others? You and your mother in the car during the storm?

Bash shook his head. He found it strange to have a recurring dream and even more so about that night but this dream was different from the other ones.

"No. This time I could not see anything. I was surrounded by pitch darkness but I could hear my mom and what she said...it did not make sense."

"What was she saying?"

Bash recalled the events of the dream, something he did not want to do but if he could talk about it to Dr. Sanders, she could find a way for him to stop having these terrible nightmares.

"She was saying things like 'I'm sorry' to me and 'Don't hurt him' to someone else but I couldn't see or hear who she was talking to. I called out to her but it was like she could not hear me. It was so strange and I've had it almost every night this week. I don't know what it means. We were in a car crash. She died on impact and I was unconscious."

"The mind is very complex and the imagination can often come up with very interesting thoughts and dreams. What about your memory? How have you been with remembering things?"

"Uh well, the long term memory has been fine. The short term memory is still a work in progress but I can remember a few new things." Bash explained to her. "Repetition and schedules really help me out and Valerie and the house staff have been really good at helping me remember things like appointments and such. It's been a real pain in the ass though, trying to remember new things and even more so about that night."

"I can imagine so." Dr. Sanders gave him a small smile. "You just have to give it time and it will come back to you."

Bash nodded in agreement but he was reluctant to do so. For months he has been at it with these sessions in the hopes of finding out why he is having these unwanted dreams and the way to deal with them is to try and find out what he cannot remember. Yet, the doctor here was telling him to be patient. He wanted to say something but she is the professional here and his father trusted her to treat him so he just has to go with it.

To be honest, he was grateful that the doctor was not forcing him to relive that night. What he does remember was not pleasant and makes him want to remain forgetful of the rest.

The rest of the hour went by pleasantly and another session was scheduled for the near future.

Leaving the office, he entered the lobby and found Roy waiting for him in one of the seats rather than in the car, much to Bash's annoyance (and amusement). Stowing away his book and tossing the remnants of his lunch in the nearby trash, Roy walked over to help him.

"How did appointments go?" Roy asked as he pushed the elevator button.

"Same, as usual." Bash sighed with a faux melancholic expression. "I am insane and crippled."

"What a travesty." Roy chuckled and walked into the elevator car as the doors opened and kept a hand in the doorway to keep them from closing while Bash walked in.

The early noon traffic made the car ride across Manhattan take longer than anticipated but the Bash and Roy made it to the next destination. Mercer Plaza, the headquarters for Mercer Industries and where Bill spends most of his time.

Mercer Industries has come a long way from its humble roots as French blacksmiths that immigrated to America and made a fortune during the civil war when they continued their practice and sold weapons for both armies. As the years went by, the then-named Mercier & Sons, changed their name to Mercer as they began to gain status and fortune and expand beyond blacksmithing to more modernized weapon manufacturing and expanded to a variety of branches from medicine to shipping and technology and even entertainment, to name just a few of the many things the company does.

Upon entering the bustling main building, Bash was greeted enthusiastically with a strong hug by his father's assistant, May Parker.

Of all the people that worked for his father at the company, May was by far his favorite. Her kind motherly nature made him feel more welcome amongst the stuffy and tightly-wound employees.

Whenever he had to go to his father's work when he was younger, it was May who looked after him. She would spend time with him, playing games or watching TV in one of the empty conference rooms with him or take him to get snacks and fast food when he did not like the fancy meals being made in the company's kitchen.

"Oh Bash! It's good to see you!" She said excitedly and gave him one last squeeze before letting him go.

"Hey May." Bash greeted her with a smile and straightened his shirt that got disheveled from the embrace. "How've you been?"

"Oh, I've been busy keeping your father's daily schedule in order." She replied as they both began to walk to the elevators in the center of the lobby like tall clear pillars.

"And Ben and Peter?"

May and her husband Ben both work at Mercer. Ben works in the building as a member of the maintenance crew.

"Ben and Peter are doing great!" May answered enthusiastically. She loved to talk about her family, especially her young nephew, Peter, who is an extraordinarily smart kid that loves science. "Ben is somewhere in the building." She waved her hand around in the air. "And Peter is doing great in school! His teachers are recommending him for AP classes but I wasn't surprised when I got the call from the school. Ben and I already knew Peter is capable of being placed in advanced classes."

"And his issue with that bully?" Bash asked her. The last time he paid a visit to the company, May mentioned that one of Peter's classmates was bullying him. Peter is a nice kid and very smart but he lacks any physical prowess which makes him easy prey. "What's his name? Blaze? Dash?"

"Flash." May sighed when she corrected him and shook her head. God, the name even sounds like it belongs to a bully. From the look on May's face, it seems like the bullying might not be over for poor Peter. "Flash Thompson. Eugene is his real name." Bash understands the name change. "And unfortunately it seems it's still going on."

"Seems?" Bash repeated the word questioningly. "Do you not know if the bullying is still happening?"

"I know the bullying is still happening." May responded somberly. "Peter comes home with dirt on his clothes and scuff marks on his face but he says it's because he is clumsy, which he can be at times but the way he answers us, it's like he's hiding the truth. And Ben and I have gone to the school to talk about it with the boys but neither of them is admitting to any bullying so the school can do nothing about it."

Bash shook his head. He understands how hard it is to deal with bullies due to dealing with his own fair share of them. His knack for investigative journalism for the school paper has often put him in hot water with the student body with most of them avoiding him for writing a story that exposed the football team as steroid users that not only cost them a winning season but also suspended some of the players and fired the coach that gave the players the drugs.

While the story had gained a lot of popularity, Bash went the complete opposite. His school focused on sports and football was at the top. When the players lost their season they took it out on him and unfortunately on those that were associated with him, leaving him with fewer friends than he cared to admit.

He can't say the jocks did not deserve to be exposed. They were a toxic bunch that felt they owned the school and bullied many of the other students as well with the faculty turning a blind eye. Before the story, Bash was practically invisible, though he occasionally tried to intervene when he saw some poor student being bullied. He couldn't stand by and let it happen like the teachers did. He just wished he had the ability to fight back or at least defend himself besides curling into a fetal position while the bullies have at him or until a teacher takes pity and stops it.

"It's a tough situation, but I know Peter will get through it." Bash said, hoping to ease May's worry for her nephew. She and Ben do not have any children of their own but after taking in Peter when his parents died, they got to fill that role and be the best parents a kid could ask for. "I can tell he's going to do great things with that brilliant mind of his."

"Ben and I think so too." May smiled sweetly at him. She and Ben are very supportive of their nephew and his scientific endeavors. "I can see him doing amazing things in the future."

The doors to the elevator slid open and the two walked into the cab. May pressed the button to the floor where Bill's office is and walked to the back of the clear glass cab to stand beside Bash.

"So, I noticed on Bill's schedule that you had a couple of appointments today." May said to him coyly as they watched the cab rise above the lobby and pass through the many floors of the Sky-scraper. "How did it go? Is there any progress?"

Bash smiled and shook his head. May Parker is certainly a nosey person but he found it amusing.

"They went fine." He told her. "As for progress, not so much. The doctors feel that this is as good as it will get for me."

Bash could see the sweet smile on her face slightly falter. Much like him and everyone else, she had high hopes that he would make a full recovery and from the progress he had made, it seemed very possible.

"Oh...oh Bash, I am so sorry." She said to him before wrapping him in another hug. May might be a mother but she certainly had the motherly nature in her. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." It was partially true but he did not want to go into full details. He did not want to talk about it at all.

"You know, this doesn't have to be a bad thing." She told him after letting him go. "But it could be the beginning of something new. Something different in your life. A change for the better. And who knows, maybe you will prove the doctors wrong again."

Bash nodded and smiled at her. He appreciated May's optimistic nature and the need to cheer people up. He would believe it if he thought it was true, that a change for the better was in store for him but he cannot see it happening. Whatever plan fate or destiny has for him, they have a pretty fucked up way of revealing it to him.

A final soft ding rang through the small cab as the elevator slowed to a gentle halt and the doors slid open to the seventy-fifth floor, commonly known as the executive floor where offices of, you guessed it, Mercer Industries executives reside.

The floor plan was spacious with white marble floors and walls with chic modern furniture in the waiting room area near the elevator.

Bash and May walked through the hallways to get to Bill's office. This floor was not particularly busy with the occasional mailman with a cart full of envelopes and packages that needed to be delivered or a fellow assistant that was working while the Executive they worked for was hard at work at a golf course with the exception of the company's CEO Bill Mercer.

After the third turn into a new hallway did they finally see his father's office.

May reached the door first and opened it for him. Bash stayed behind to wait for an approved entry. Bill might be his father but the man could be busy with clients or meetings with board members and shareholders. It was protocol for everyone to wait, even family members.

"Bill, Bash is here to see you." May announced to the man himself. By the informal way May addressed him, Bash was certain that his father was alone.

"Send him in. Thank you, May." Bash heard the familiar strong gravelly voice of his father's. It was good to know that his father managed to find time for him.

May stepped aside to allow Bash access to the office and held the door open for him until he was through and waved bye to him before closing the door behind her.

Much like the rest of the floor, Bill's office was spacious with a clean white color scheme from the white marble flooring to the pure white walls with various contemporary paintings to add a bit more color to the office. In the middle of the room, there is a small sitting area with a large square light grey rug with two leather loveseats and two individual leather chairs and a glass coffee table in between. Normally, it was empty, except for the occasional Forbes or Fortune or any other business magazine that featured Bill or his company as a way to impress possible clients, but today the coffee table also had two trays each with a plate of a delicious looking sirloin steak and a vegetable medley with a steaming baked potato on the side.

On the left of the room beside the bathroom door is a wet bar complete with a small sink and minifridge and cabinets where the glasses and drinks are stored.

Directly across the door, the floor was elevated, as if on a platform where a large contemporary styled cherry wood desk was placed with an open laptop and stacks of files piled on top with a black leather executive desk chair in front of the floor to ceiling windows that ran the length of the entire office, giving the viewers a beautiful view of the city, much like his room at home. Bash was not too fond of standing so close to the windows due to his fear of heights.

Standing from his desk, Bill Mercer smiled at his son and mouthed for him to sit down at one of the leather seats in the middle of the room while he finished talking to someone on his cellphone.

Bash limped his way to one of the loveseats and sat where one of the meals was placed.

"I know it is a big issue. He is a big person...on occasion." Bill said as he turned to face the window. "But I am not going to contribute to your manhunt. Dr. Banner is a good friend of mine—"

Bash could now hear the voice of the person on the other end of the phone and could tell it was a man and he sounded angry. He did not mean to eavesdrop on the conversation but you know, with him being in the same room and all but then he heard the name Banner and he could not help himself. The brilliant scientist was all over the news not too long ago after testing one of his experiments on himself that had an...unusual side effect of turning him into a great green raging monster that not even the military could contain. For a while, he was all over the news but after some time, it died down but apparently the man has gone into hiding and the military wants to find him.

"Look, Ross—"

"That's General Ross, Mercer!" Bash could hear the man on the other end say. More correctly, yell at his father. As in General Thaddeus Thunderbolt Ross?! Bash was impressed with the man his father was arguing with. "And if you want to keep working on the project then I suggest you learn some respect or I am going to remove you and head over to Osborn!"

"I would love to see that, General." Bill chuckled at the threat. "We both know you would never go to Osborn. You don't trust him as far as you can throw him. And I know how much you like Stark and Reed and his colleagues won't help either, leaving you with very few choices, sir."

Whatever General Ross said, Bash could not hear since the man stopped yelling and tried to listen to his father's responses.

Not wanting to look like he was eavesdropping, Bash picked up the silverware and attempted to cut into the steak with the fork and knife to take a few bites of the meal. Unfortunately, it was proving to be a difficult task with his shoddy right hand.

"Yes, I know it has been a while since the last update." Bill said calmly. "My scientists are working on various ideas around the clock that I am overseeing personally."

Bill paused as he listened to the General, which for Bash, only came out as incoherent mumbling. So, this must be what his father has been doing all this time. Working on a military project.

"You can't rush science, sir. Or else you are going to end up with big mistakes." Bill sighed and leaned a hand on the window. " Most of these experiments are still in the infant stages. You are just going to have to keep having faith in me and my scientists that we are doing what you need."

Bill stopped talking to listen to the General, saying "mhmm" and nodding his head here and there.

"All right, well whenever you can stop by, give a call to meet and you can see what we have going so far. Okay, General...Goodbye."

Bill relaxed and let out a heavy sigh as he placed his phone back into his pocket. He took a moment before turning around back to his son, who quickly turned back to face his food and act like he was focusing on that rather than listening in on his father's conversation.

It wasn't until Bill had taken the seat across from him that Bash looked up to see his father looking at him with amused observant eyes.

"Hey pal." Bill finally greeted him while he unfolded the cloth napkin and placed it on top of his black slacks.

"Hey, dad." Bash greeted back as he continued to try and cut his steak with disastrous results. Damn that bum right hand of his.

"I appreciate the subtle obliviousness but I know you could hear the conversation." Bill wasn't mad but Bash knew that there was going to be a bit of a conversation on the way.

"I did not think the call was going to go for as long as it did but the client...still had questions and wanted answers."

"By client, do you mean the well-known three-star general that you spoke so casually to on the phone?" Bash said nonchalantly to his father before scooping up some of the vegetables onto his fork and eating them. "And the questions he wanted answered were about a certain military project and something to do about a certain scientist currently on the run."

Bill stared at him, arched brow and all and stopped cutting into his steak. Bash figured there was no point in lying but his father was still surprised that Bash was so blunt about his admittance.

"Need I remind you of the rule for when you are here?"

There are quite a few rules. No wandering around. No going into labs. No disturbing the employees etcetera. However, Bash knew of the rule his father spoke of.

"What is said or heard in the office, stays in the office." Bash recited the rule in question. It did not matter how sensitive the conversation is, not that Bill would speak so openly of private matters in front of those not involved, but it was a nice assurance for him that stuff spoken at work does not leave the confines of his office.

Bill nodded and took a bite of the steak, complementing how well it was prepared.

Bash managed to cut a piece of his steak as well and ate it, agreeing with his father on its excellent quality.

"Why were you talking with General Ross?" Bash asked after swallowing the food. "I thought the weapons division was shut down."

That became major news for a while; The company that began with weapon making was going to stop making weapons. The change happened shortly after Bill had assumed the role of CEO when a school shooting had occurred at a high school where the shooter had taken the lives of twelve students and five teachers before taking his own life. During the investigation, Bill was questioned by federal agents and was told that the shooter had used a military-grade fully automatic rifle that was developed by his company. Shocked, Bill did his own investigation and found out that his father had allowed the weapons division to manufacture civilian models of their firearms and was horrified to find out that their company's weapons were used in various shootings. Even their weapons manufactured for the military have been stolen by terrorists and used against them. His father had kept this all quiet by silently paying off people and victims and their families.

Disgusted by what his father had left him, Bill announced that he was going to close down the weapons division.

The change did not sit well with the company's clients or the board members and for a while, Mercer Industries was losing money and people began to sell their stocks in the company. However, that changed when Bill put more money and focus on the company's other divisions and even added more to fill the gap that the weapons division left behind.

It took some time but eventually, the company began to see profits rise as their new and advanced technology regained the confidence of their clients.

"Well, this is not about weapons." Bill replied to Bash's question.

"Then, what is it about?"

"A new line of jet fighters from our aerospace facility." Bill answered him hastily. "My engineers have been working with our guys at Mercer Steel to make a metal alloy that is virtually impenetrable to any type of heavy artillery but also light enough to keep the jets high speed. What's with the interrogation?"

Bash knew something was up. His father doesn't normally give away information so easily, especially when he's already being so secretive about it. Bash picked up a few of his mother's journalistic tricks in observation that allowed him to read people through their mannerisms and see what they are really about and what Bill did was try to get Bash off his case by coming up with some hastily made bullshit answer in the hopes that it would satisfy him and change the subject. Whatever this is that he is working on, is definitely top secret and he did not want to talk about it with him.

Bash shook his head and focused back on the food in front of him.

"Nothing. Ross just seemed very annoyed with you about something." Bash shrugged his shoulders. "Especially when you refused to help him find Dr. Banner."

"Heard that did you?" Bill asked as he watched his son.

"The General is not exactly a quiet man, dad. Especially when he is angered." Bash smirked and saw a bit of a smile from his father. "I am sorry though, for listening in and talking about something that is clearly hush hush."

"No need to apologize, pal." Bill relaxed a bit more and returned to his steak. "Now, how about we change the subject. How were your appointments?"

Bill seemed more than happy to change the subject and Bash knew he was only going to irritate the already irritated man if he further pestered him with the many questions he wanted answers for. But it looks like he is going to have to settle for what he already heard.

"They were fine. They just told me the same thing as last time." He said and poked at the steaming baked potato. "I am going to be a crippled psychopath."

"I'll make sure you get the best care at our mental health facility." Bill chuckled. He took the clear glass pitcher of ice water from the table and poured the drink into both his and Bash's glasses. "What did they really say?"

"Nothing new, honestly." Bash said truthfully. "Dr. Strange said he is very confident that this is as good as I am going to get and Dr. Sanders says I am still not dealing with my trauma and I need to work on that but I can't."

"Why not?" Bill inquired before taking a sip of the cold water.

"Because I can't really remember that night." Bash shook his head at the admittance. "Not the accident or the events leading up to it."

"What do you remember?" his father asked him casually.

"Mom being frantic." Bash slowly recalled what he could remember. Not unnatural since she was always chasing a story and had to drag him along when she could not find a sitter. It wasn't until he got older did she begin to leave him home alone. "And waking me up from a dead sleep."

"And that's all you remember?" Asked Bill.

Bash nodded his head. He could not help but notice how calm his father's voice was as he asked him these questions yet the man radiated a tenseness that he could physically feel. Bill always gets like this when they discuss the accident. It's as if he is trying to get information out of him but he doesn't know why.

"And what about the nightmares you've been having?" Of course, Bill knew about the dreams. It was the reason he made Bash go to therapy in the first place when he would wake up screaming so loud for his mother that he could be heard throughout the Penthouse.

"I had one last night." Bash admitted to his father.

Bill looked at him as if waiting for the rest of the answer but Bash spoke nothing else and resumed cutting into the meat.

"Are you not going to talk about it?" Bill scoffed at his son's deliberate refusal to talk about it.

"I already did. With Dr. Sanders." Bash replied before eating the piece of steak he managed to cut off from the rest of the meat.

"So, you're not going to tell me? Your own father?" Bill said, trying to sound hurt. "Maybe I should give her a call and ask about the progress myself?"

As if he would have time to do that. It was a miracle that he even managed to stay this long without having to take an urgent call.

"That would be breaking the deal we made, remember?" Bash slyly answered his father's passive-aggressive suggestion. "

"Oh yeah, right." Bill muttered and rolled his eyes. "Well, did she at least give you any advice to deal with your trauma?"

"Only to take it easy. Give me time to overcome it all." He responded and Bill nodded approvingly.

"That's good advice." Bill said and relaxed once more. "Take your time and don't rush to deal with it all. Maybe in the future, you will be able to remember everything."

This conversation was confusing Bash. First, his father was basically interrogating him for answers about his therapy then he completely flipped around and is now encouraging him to take his time to remember everything that he actually does not want to remember. What is up with his dad?

Bash had opened his mouth to ask Bill that question when the sound of an old phone Bill used as his cell ringtone interrupted the conversation.

Bill sifted through his pocket and pulled out the phone.

"I have to take this call." Bill said and got up from his seat. "What's going on, Curt?" Was the last thing Bash heard before Bill retreated to his bathroom to continue the conversation in privacy, having learned his lesson from earlier.

Curt Connors, the man that Bash's father was currently on the phone with, is the head of the Science division and practically Bill's right-hand man since a majority of the company's division incorporated some form of science into their research and development of Mercer products. A really brilliant scientist but one with a heavy chip on his shoulders since he is a man with one arm, having lost it to extensive damage when he was a field medic in the Army.

Bash put the silverware down and fell back into the cushioned backrest of the leather seat. He knew the drill. It was too good to be true. Just as he got to spend some quality time with his father, Bill is urgently called back to work and is not seen by his family for days most times.

The call did not last as long as Bash thought but as suspected, the call was certainly about urgent business when Bill marched out of the bathroom and made his way to his desk where he proceeded to hastily sift through the stacks of files and pull out a few of them to take with him.

Bill glanced at his son, looking at him with disappointment and slowed his roll. Sighing, he put the files in his briefcase and locked it before walking toward Bash.

"Pal, I'm sorry but I have to cut our lunch short." A sympathetic Bill began to explain. He gave his son's shoulder a squeeze. "Something came up in one of the labs and I have to go and hand over these forms."

"Why can't Connors come up here and get them?" Bash snapped at his father. Bill was surprised to hear his son's sudden change in tone. Bash did not mean for his words to come out harsh like they did but he was tired of him and his family coming second to the company.

"Bash. Pal, I am sorry but I can't do that. I also have to check on some stuff over there and it's going to be a while before I'm done." Bill sounded genuinely sorry for ending the already short time they had together but Bash was still too annoyed to accept it.

Bash did not know why this bothers him so much. He knows what to expect. He knows that his father is always on call for work but it still bothered him more than he liked to admit. Not that he would admit that to Bill.

"You can take your time and finish your meal. It would be a shame to let that steak go to waste." Bill smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll try to be home for dinner tonight, all right?"

Try. The keyword in his father's statement and what kept Bash from holding out any hope that his father would keep his word. Even Bill knew he had a good chance of not doing that and stopped making promises.

"Yeah. Sure." Bash muttered, nodding his head and crossing his arms on his chest. "See you when you come home. Whenever that might be."

"Bash I—" before Bill could finish his sentence, his ringtone interrupted the tense moment between them. Annoyed, Bill fished his phone out of his pocket. "I'm sorry, I gotta go. I'll see you later at home, okay pal?"

Turning on the heels of his black leather loafers, Bill exited his office and made his way to the labs where Connors was currently located and closed the doors behind him.

Alone now, Bash slumped further into the leather seat and stared at the food he no longer had an interest in eating. He did, however, have a sudden interest in the files on his father's desk. Getting up from the chair, Bash made his way to the desk and began sifting through the files his father left behind.

It was bad to go through this stuff, Bash knew that but his curiosity to see what his father's company was working on egged him on to live a little on the dangerous side. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to tell anyone what his father was doing. Not that he even could if he wanted to. Most of the notes were pretty much written in a scientific language that he could not understand if his life depended on it but what he could understand managed to decipher what the projects are. At least, what he thinks it could be.

The projects seemed relatively...well...tame. Plans for a new casino and club. Notes for a more energy-efficient vehicle. Bash was surprised that it was these rather boring projects that kept his father working so often. However, there was one file that caught his attention.

"Project Hybrid?" Bash muttered the name on the file and skimmed through the notes in the file. Like most of the files he looked through, he could not make heads or tails of what was written from the big scientific words that he was not even going to try to pronounce to the words, and then there were the various formulas scribbled down as well. Some were circled as others were crossed out or left with multiple question marks on them.

Some words did manage to stick out to him. Words like Cross-species and Genetically altered as well as enhance and improve. What was this project supposed to do? What was this for?

Looking further into the notes, Bash could see photos of various animals from fish, insects and arachnids to mice and lizards as well as rabbits and monkeys with serial numbers attached to the photos. Was this hybrid project an attempt to make a hybrid animal out of these subjects?

"What the fuck?" Bash muttered to himself, thinking what kind of fucked up Dr. Frankenstein experiments his father and Dr. Connors was doing with these animals.

Bash's head shot up as he heard a bit of commotion outside the office and quickly closed the folders of the files he looked through and straightened them out as best he could before the door opened. God, his dad was going to get angry with him if he found out he was going through these files. He was just going to have to act casual and hope his father is in too much of a rush to suspect anything.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Parker, I just need to grab a file and be out in a sec." came an apologetic and rather urgent feminine voice that clearly was not his father's.

The person that marched into the office certainly was not his father but a young woman that halted suddenly when she saw Bash standing behind the desk. A young girl with straight shoulder-length blonde hair and bangs swayed to the side and accessorized with a black headband placed atop of her head. She wore a white lab coat over her black pinstripe blouse grey pencil skirt and black knee-high boots.

Her green eyes on her pretty slender face widened in shock at the unsuspected sight of another person in the office.

"Oh my god." She yelped and raised a hand to her chest. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in here?!"

"I'm the Boss' son. Who the hell are you?!" Bash replied angrily at the young woman.

The commotion got the attention of May Parker who bustled in from her desk.

"I am so sorry you two. I forgot you were still in here, Bash when I let her in."

"No, it's fine, May." Bash calmly replied but the girl remained alert of his presence despite the informal introduction. "I'm—."

"Sebastian. Yeah, I recognize you now." That last bit of information seemed to have worked to ease her of his presence and her body seemed to relax a bit. "You go to Illithya Prep. Same as me."

"You go to Illithya?" Now that Bash thinks about it, he recognizes her as well. She does in fact go to the same school as him. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he recognizes her as one of the few girls that hangs out with Robbie and his friends.

"Gwen Stacy. That's your name, right?"

Gwen nodded. Yeah, he definitely recognized her now. He would often see her with Robbie and his group of friends but unlike the rest of them, she wasn't loud or obnoxious which surprised him. Why would someone like her be friends with people like his brother? Her being here also surprised him as well.

"Yeah, I've seen you with Robbie and his friends. What are you doing here?" He asked her. Gwen however, seemed to have taken offense to the sudden interrogation. In all honesty, he did sound a bit rude when he asked. He needed to work on his social skills a bit.

"Oh, Miss Stacy works here, Bash." May answered for the younger woman. "She interns for Dr. Connors."

That bit of information caught him off guard. He didn't think anyone Robbie associated with was remotely intelligent and yet here is a prime example that he was wrong.

"That's very impressive." Bash genuinely complimented her of the accomplishment. "Dr. Connors only takes in the best and brightest as his interns and very rarely takes high schoolers under his apprenticeship."

"It shouldn't be that impressive to you." She responded with a small smile forming on her lips at the compliment. "Especially since we have multiple classes together."

Bash remained in confused silence. They had classes together? He could only recall brief memories of seeing her hanging out with his brother and vague memories of possibly seeing her in one of his classes but other than that, nothing.

"I know we don't talk at school but you do know we have classes together, right?" She asked him when he did not respond to her question.

"Sweetheart, Bash might not remember certain recent things." May once again intervened, this time for Bash.

Gwen gave him a quick look-over and realized the mistake she made.

"God, I am so stupid." She said looking physically embarrassed for what she said.

"I think we recently established that you are clearly not stupid." Bash responded with a slight smile and hoped to lighten the mood. It seemed to do the trick as Gwen relaxed once more and smiled back at him.

"So, onto another subject, did you need something here?"

"Yes! I completely lost track of the reason I came here." Gwen said to him. "I needed to get a file your dad left behind."

"You're working with my dad?" That's strange. His dad has been so secretive about his work with his own family he could not imagine he would be having a high school intern work alongside him and Dr. Connors. "He lets you work on projects with him?"

"Not all the time." She told him as she moved closer to the desk and sifted through the files. "For this one, it's just your dad and Dr. Connors but they asked me to retrieve a file left behind and I—Ah! Here it is!"

Bash looked down and saw her pick up the file labeled Project Hybrid. That's intriguing. Of all the projects it was that particular one that his father wanted. That he was currently working on. Was this the real project that his father was working on? The one General Ross was yelling about?

"They will be glad to have this back." Gwen said excitedly and held the folder against her chest. "They couldn't get started until they had this file with them. Speaking of which, I better head back."

Bash nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to keep them waiting any longer myself. My dad left with such urgency I am sure he is pacing around the lab and checking his watch as we speak."

Gwen nodded in agreement and began to walk back toward the doors that May kept open.

"It was nice to finally meet you." Gwen said just before stepping out of the office. "See you at school."

"Yeah, same." Bash said before she waved and turned the corner to head back to the elevators, feeling slightly embarrassed. He could have said more than same. Damn.

May remained at the doorway, her perfectly manicured eyebrow arched and a mischievous smile on her face.

"What?" Bash asked her.

"Oh, nothing." She shrugged her shoulders. Clearly, there was something on her mind. "Gwen is just a nice girl, is all."

"Uh-huh…" Bash responded to her comment, wondering where this was going.

"Very sweet, actually. And smart." May continued. "Someone that would be nice for you to...I don't know...hang out with?"

A chuckle escaped Bash's grinning lips as he shook his head at May's funny and unexpected idea. Of course she would say something like this. He felt bad for Peter and the day May sees him talking to girls. May would sure be already planning the wedding.

"I talk with a girl I barely met for a few minutes and you're already trying to play matchmaker?" Then, an idea came to mind. "Wait a minute...did...you have her walk in here on purpose?"

May looked guilty as sin but tried to play it off.

"Sebastian, I have no idea what you are saying. That was completely an accident. I was very busy at my desk and forgot you were there."

"Mhmm..." He knew he was not going to get a straight answer out of her but he knew she had something to do with it. "Well, I hate to break it to you, I don't think I'm her type."

Bash walked back to the couches and gathered what he needed to take with him before he left his father's work.

"And what makes you say that?" A stunned looking May asked him.

"For one, she hangs out with Robbie and his douchey friends." He said and grabbed his bag and slung it onto his shoulder before walking toward the door.

"And?" May asked him, inquiring more of an explanation to his reason. She closed the office doors behind them and walked with him to the elevators.

"And...she...can't be that great of a person if she hangs out with people like them."

"Bash Blackwell, I know you are not judging her before getting to know her?" May said warningly.

"That's all I know about her from what I see in school."

"Well, from what I have seen here, she is the sweetest and brightest girl I have ever met." said a defensive May. "And I really think you should give her a chance."

"Why?" he asked simply to humor her.

"Because not once while you two were talking did she seem to notice your cane or your disability for that matter."

Bash opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out. He had no argument to make as May was right. Thinking about the brief conversation, Gwen did not appear to notice his ailments or at least was very good at hiding her emotions from him. Either way, she did not make him feel...inferior or pitied, not like most people do, especially at school. It was why he preferred to be alone.

Looking up at the many floors of the building, he caught a glimpse of Gwen Stacy walking along the walls a few floors above him, marching quickly to her destination. He had to admit, she was really pretty and had to be very smart to get Connors's internship but he could not look fathom why she is friends with Robbie and his cronies as she could not be any more opposite of them. Maybe she is not that different?

The door to the elevator opened up and he stepped inside. As he pressed the button and watched the door close, a hand suddenly popped in and forced the doors to retract, revealing May Parker walking into the cab.

"You don't think I was made aware of your tendency to wander off now did you?" She asked him with a smirk. "You're step-mother called earlier and reminded me to escort you back to Roy."

Rolling his eyes, Bash moved over to give May more space in the compartment. Of course May would get a heads up from Valerie. She was determined to make sure that his every move was being monitored. He understands it comes from a good place but it also feels like he's suffocating.

"Honestly, I am seventeen. I don't need people babysitting me."

"Well, when you stop wandering off like a child nobody would have to babysit you, sweetie." May sweetly smiled at him that made him chuckle at her response. He liked that May was very direct with him.

Once the elevator stopped and opened the doors for them, Bash and May made their way through the bustling lobby to the front entrance where Roy was waiting in the driver seat reading the book he brought with him. He glanced up when he saw them approaching and quickly got out to open the door.

"All right, this is where I pass you off." May smiled and pulled him into a hug. He wrapped an arm around her in acceptance of the embrace. "Be good and stay safe, okay?"

Bash nodded as they let go just in time to see Roy swagger over toward them, more specifically to May.

"Hey Mrs. Parker, you're lookin' really fine today. That ensemble really suits you." The young chauffeur said to May. For as long as Bash can remember, this was a common interaction between them but completely innocent as May was in a loving marriage with her husband.

"Thank you, Roy." May sighed with a forced smile. "That's very kind of you to say. My husband said the same thing to me this morning. By the way, how is Angela, your girlfriend?"

"Busy but great." He answered her. "When she's not at college she's at her parent's pizzeria but business is booming for them. They are thinking of opening a second restaurant."

"Good for them!" May congratulated. "They are all very wonderful people and they make really good pizza so I am not surprised. The guys on seventy-five enjoy the pies. Anyway, you better get going if you want to beat traffic at this time."

Roy agreed and opened the back door for Bash and helped him in.

"Bye, May." Bash waved through the lowered window.

"Bye, sweetie." She replied and waved back at him. "Drive safe, Loverboy."

"Oh, I always do." Roy smirked and waved her off before raising the windows once more and pulled the car out onto the street and drove off back to the Penthouse.

xXx

xXx

Dusk had fallen on the city by the time Bash looked up from the contents he took out from a cardboard box stowed away in his closet.

When he returned home hours before, the Penthouse was empty, with the exception of the house staff doing their job and greeting him when they passed by. Valerie had already gone to work and would not be back for a few more hours, leaving him relatively alone and allowed for him to retreat to his room for undisturbed relaxation.

That's what he was hoping for.

As much as he tried, he could not relax. He tried everything from reading a book to watching TV but nothing he did could help him. It was a common occurrence for him after his appointments with Dr. Sanders. What they discuss always lingers in his head long after the sessions and he hates it.

He hates having to try and remember the events of that night. As much as he tries, he can only remember bits and pieces but nothing of the accident itself, which apparently is what everyone is trying to get him to remember in the hopes that he can overcome the trauma he has. But he hates it. He hates that he has to remember the last moments he had with his last moments of normalcy with his mother that now seem like a distant memory that makes him yearn to return to.

It helps, though, to go through this cardboard box and look at the contents stored inside.

While he was comatose, Valerie flew out to San Francisco and oversaw all the cleaning and sorting and storing of his and his mother's belongings and sold the house. Since his mother had no family, Valerie took it upon herself to help out.

When she returned to New York, she brought back a large cardboard box filled with his mother's personal objects she thought he would like to keep with him; pictures of him and his mother, her jewelry and journals and work folders and anything else Valerie thought Bash would like to keep for himself. He appreciated what she did for him. He was in no shape, physically and emotionally, to be able to do this and he was grateful that she could take away one less burden for him.

From time to time, he likes to go through the items, mostly the photo album that Valerie had bought him to place all the photos of him and his mother. It comforted him, reminding him of the good times he had and the memories he made with his mother. Vacations of driving up and down the West Coast and playing on the beaches or hiking in Yosemite and Sequoia. Then there were pictures of them spending quality mother-son days together around San Francisco.

He smiled as he looked at the photo of him and his mother sitting at a small ice cream shop with their enormous bowls of the ice cream sundaes they ordered. She always carried her Yashica Electro 35 brand camera with her because of her job as a journalist but she also liked to use it to take photos of them on their outings together. Bash was always reluctant to be photographed but Amy insisted on taking his picture but his mother would weather him down until he agreed. This is one of the last photos they took together just a few weeks before the accident.

Then there were photos of his mother and Bill while they were in college at Columbia. Valerie did not mention the photos to him when she gave him the box but he knows that she saw them. It could not have been easy to look at them considering she was engaged to Bill at the time. Bill never told his mother, Amy, of his engagement to Valerie but the moment she found out, she left him and college, unbeknownst that she was pregnant at the time.

There were a lot of photos and he took his time going through them all. It was a good way to jog his memory, so Dr. Sanders says, but nothing has changed. His missing memories have not miraculously returned to him as he looked through the photographs.

Then he checked the journals. From what he has read, they weren't exactly personal journals but more like notes about Amy's assignments. Personal notes and thoughts on people and events she investigated as a journalist that she kept close to her persons. Bash could recall seeing her writing in them at home when she was alone at the kitchen table or in her bedroom.

What he could also tell from his mom's writing, she was very scatterbrained. Her written thoughts were incomplete and no page had the same notes on them. How his mother managed to successfully do her job like this was a mystery to him. She was also considered one of the best reporters by her editor in chief.

Skimming through the notes, there was a name that caught his attention that he did not see before.

"Carlton Drake." He muttered to a near whisper. Carlton Drake was the CEO and founder of his company the Life Foundation in San Francisco. The guy was considered eccentric, to put it mildly but also a brilliant man with the potential to help humankind thrive but then a closer look at his work showed his contempt for humankind and that he was a clear psychopath when it was revealed he was using San Francisco's homeless population as guinea pigs for his radical experiments, often killing them in the process.

Ultimately, this led to his arrest, as well as a few other scientists and the downfall of his company, thanks to his mother's sleuthing skills and the cooperation of one of Drake's scientists, Dora Skirth, who testified against her former employer and coworkers when she saw what was happening. Because of this, Amy had received the Pulitzer Prize. It was a bittersweet moment for her, Bash recalled. He remembered her saying in her acceptance speech that she was grateful for the award but she wished that it was not at the cost of innocent lives and dedicated her award to the people Drake killed.

The months that followed Drake's trial was insane, to say the least. The Life Foundation was burned down before any further investigation could be done as well as Drake's San Francisco home. Then there was the deaths of those that testified against him. Many of those that went to the stand were later found dead. Dora Skirth for instance, was found dead in her home along with her husband and two children in what was made to look like a botched robbery. It would have been closed like that if Amy did not see the pattern after a few more deaths of fellow testifiers made to look like fatal accidents.

A sudden memory came to him, like a jolt of adrenaline. Bash remembered his mother being very stressed after Dora's death. They had become good friends while working together against Drake and she was devastated upon finding out about her death and was determined to do her own investigation.

Bash remembered his mother constantly arguing with the detectives working on the case and revealing the pattern of victims when more unexpected deaths of those that testified against Carlton Drake kept popping up on the news.

He remembered things getting really heated after his mother wrote a story regarding the suspicious circumstances surrounding their deaths and the common link they all have to Carlton Drake and the lack of research being done by the detectives assigned to the case. Even suspecting that maybe a few members of the police force were being paid off by Drake's people. Not a far-reaching theory since Drake employed former police officers as his personal security.

The story caused quite a stir in the city that even the news station was discussing the story. When a Pulitzer winning journalist accuses the police of working with a high-profile psychopath, you bet it gets the media's attention. And boy did it ever. Many people were coming forward and telling their own horrible encounters with the police in that precinct. Needless to say, a lot of officers were being investigated or resigning.

He recalls his mother constantly getting blocked calls after and one night in particular, a personal call from the detective in charge of the investigation one night. He wished he could remember the details of the conversation, only remembering the name of the man as he overheard them talking but he did remember how upset his mother was after the conversation.

After that night, his mother began to change. She became tense. On alert. He was sure she was not sleeping as he would often see that she was already up by the time he woke up. She stopped going to her place of work and instead did her job from home and insisted on driving him to and from school.

Bash began to remember more now, regarding that final night with his mother. He remembered being angry with her. So angry with her and this new attitude of hers. He hated that she was watching him so closely and practically smothering him.

He remembers yelling at his mother when she would not let him go out to the movies with his friends and stomping off into his room, with the last words he remembers saying to her echoing in his mind. "I hate you."

Bash closed his eyes tightly, feeling the tears building at the corners. His chest tightened and constricted while he held his breath.

He could not believe that was the last thing he said to his mother. He remembers feeling bad about saying that and planned on telling her the next day. He wished that he did not wait that long to apologize to her.

A sudden rap at his closed door brought Bash's attention back to the present where he realized his room had darkened when dusk settled in the sky surrounding his bedroom. He did not realize that he had been looking through his mother's stuff for hours now.

"Sebastian?" came the familiar voice of Valerie when she opened the door a bit. He must have spaced out longer than he thought if Valerie was already home. "Are you in here?"

"Uh…" Bash sniffed and quickly wiped away the traces of tears at the brim of his eyes. "Yeah. Come in, Valerie."

His stepmother opened the door just wide enough to let herself in and found Bash sitting on his couch with his mother's possessions laid out on the coffee table in front of him.

"What are you doing?" She asked and glanced at the items on the coffee table.

"I'm just…" Bash let out a sigh as he too gazed at the albums and the journals he took out. "...trying to jog my memory."

"Oh." Valerie sounded surprised and took the seat next to Bash on the couch. "Did it work?"

"You know what, it did."

"That's wonderful!" Valerie excitedly exclaimed. Her excitement quickly dissipated when she noticed Bash was not sharing the same enthusiasm as her. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. It's just…"

Bash shrugged his shoulders, not certain of what to feel. Sure, he was glad he managed to remember more of that night but it is something that he wished he could forget but he has to tell someone about what he knows.

"It's about that night." He began to tell her. "My mom and I were arguing about something stupid and I…" the words were hard to say out loud. He did not want to admit what he last said to his mother but he had to if he wanted to work through this as his therapist says to him. "...I told her I hated her."

He turned to Valerie to see her looking at him with sympathetic eyes. He hated that look but he knew she could not help it. At least she was here and willing to listen to him.

"I wanted to hang out with some friends of mine. I hadn't been able to for a while and I had to just spend a few hours away from home...and her...but she told me I couldn't go and I ended up turning into this big stupid argument and I yelled that I hated her."

His voice had become heavy with emotion while recalling the memory to her. He felt like he was painfully swallowing a golf ball as he took in a gulp of air. This was becoming much more difficult for him to do than he thought.

Valerie pulled him into a hug. The sudden act made him tense up but quickly relaxed in her embrace. It was a nice comforting feeling that he did not realize he wanted and wrapped an arm around her.

"That was the last thing I said to her." Bash said with a trembling voice. "I was going to apologize to her but I...I never got the chance."

Valerie gently broke from the embrace but kept her hands on his shoulders and her green eyes focused on his blue ones.

"Bash, let me tell you something." She began with a stern yet calm voice. "As a mother myself, I know for a fact that your mom forgave you the moment you said it. You do not need to feel guilty about not telling her because she already knows. Okay?"

Bash nodded his head as Valerie smiled at him and pulled him in for one more needed hug that he accepted.

"Ahem."

The two of them turned to the bedroom door to find Robbie standing in the doorway with a glowering look on his face.

"Robbie, what are you doing back home?" A surprised Valerie asked and got up from the couch.

"I felt bad for leaving the way I did and decided to come back and stay for the rest of the weekend." he explained yet looked visibly annoyed with what he interrupted, particularly at Bash. Bash responded by rolling his eyes.

"Aw, thank you." Valerie kissed her son's cheek and hugged him warmly. "My sweet boy. Come on, I brought home a lasagna. You can help make the salad."

Robbie nodded as Valerie gently patted his cheek and walked away, leaving the boys to themselves.

"What?" Bash asked when he saw that Robbie had not left the doorway.

"Nothin'." Robbie shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the doorframe. "How was lunch with my dad?"

Bash chuckled and shook his head. There it is. The thing that is bothering his brother. Normally, Robbie is just annoyed by Bash's existence. It does not help the relationship when there are people that are trying to keep them divided. It also did not help that Bash was older than Robbie by three months.

"It was great, actually." Bash smirked as he got up from the couch as well and stretched a bit. "The steaks were perfect. It's a shame that Dad didn't invite you. You really missed out on good father-son bonding time."

Robbie glared at him darkly and stood up straight as Bash walked over to him and placed his free hand on the opened door.

"Now, if you have nothing else to say, would you kindly move so I can close my door? I gotta shower and get ready for dinner."

Bash tried to close the door but Robbie stopped it with his foot, obviously not done marking his territory.

"Don't take their kindness too seriously. Anyone can see they are obviously taking pity on you." Robbie sneered at him.

Bash rolled his eyes and sighed while he let Robbie blow off some steam. It was better to do nothing since it is a reaction that he wants. Typical jealousy shit that Bash has to endure once in a while.

"My mom is just trying to make the best of a bad situation and to Dad—" Robbie scoffed. "You are just an unnecessary obligation to him. Dad might have claimed you and moved you here but you will always be a bastard."

Bash felt his brow scrunch to a scowl as he listened to Robbie's words but remained silent.

"Thanks for the reminder, little brother." Bash asked him, emphasizing on the little brother part, knowing how bothered Robbie gets at the title. "Now, can you please let me close the door and get ready for dinner? Your mom is waiting for you to make the salad anyway."

Robbie did not leave right away and kept looking down at his brother's hunched figure in contempt. Giving Bash one last sneer, Robbie turned his body and walked down the hall to the staircase, allowing Bash to close the door and go get cleaned up.

xXx

xXx

Dinner had been relatively quiet. Just as Bash thought, Bill was not gracing them with his presence for dinner. When Bash had come down, he had overheard Valerie talking with him over the phone. From what he could tell, she was discreetly arguing with him, mostly about his absence from the family. He heard her mention his jogged memory to Bill and what he remembered but could not hear the rest when Valerie walked away and continued the conversation in a hushed voice. He did, however, heard her mention Carlton Drake. Why she brought up Carlton Drake to his father, Bash did not know. It was quite convenient since he does not recall talking about him to her but it would not hurt to ask about it. Maybe shed some light on his lost memories.

During the meal, the three of them were mostly silent with Valerie occasionally asking the two questions about their day and how school has been so far.

Bash and Robbie's responses were short but appeased Valerie.

"Was that Bill you were talking to just before dinner?" Bash asked Valerie suddenly during a quiet moment while everyone else continued to eat the lasagna.

Valerie looked up at him from her plate and nodded after a moment's pause. It was as if he caught her off guard or something. Robbie took his focus off his plate as well and stared at the two.

"Yes, he called to say he was going to have to miss dinner." Valerie explained to the two of them.

"Surprise, surprise." Robbie muttered and rolled his eyes before stabbing his fork into the salad he prepared.

"I told him about your memory recollection." She told Bash, who nodded back. "He's really happy for you, sweetheart."

"I'm glad he thinks so." Bash said before taking a bite of the delicious lasagna.

He wanted to bring up Carlton Drake. It was actually making him anxious for some reason but he had to wait, feeling it would be better without Robbie listening in on the conversation.

Later that night, Bash did a bit of research of his own on Carlton Drake. There were a lot of articles on the man when he typed in Drake's name in the Google search bar, from his accomplishments to his arrest.

The search had proven to be intriguing, to say the least. It revealed something that he had never known.

Carlton Drake had worked for Bill.

It was a long time ago, by the looks of their younger selves and Dr. Connors. Drake had worked under Connors and it was only a short time but during those few years, Drake had done some incredible work for the company. The article that Bash was currently reading was from when Drake was just nineteen years old and had discovered a gene therapy that tripled the life expectancy of pancreatic cancer patients. It was an amazing feat for such a young man and had really helped put the medicine and science division.

Drake, it seems, had done a lot of good things for the company and yet he left. Why? Did it have to do with the fact that the man was a textbook psychopath?

Hearing a knock on his door, Bash looked up from his laptop to see Valerie opening the door and holding one of his prescriptions in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

It looks like he has a chance to ask his questions.

"Hey, just checking on you." She said with a kind smile.

"Thanks. It's much appreciated." Bash responded, returning a smile to her as well. "Hey Valerie, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." She walked through the doorway and toward his desk. "What's up?"

"I uh…" Bash nervously scratched his head and adjusted his glasses on his nose bridge. He did not know how to tell her he was listening in on her conversation with Bill without it sounding bad. "I...I heard you mentioning Carlton Drake when talking to Bill."

The words came out like vomit. Bash couldn't stop it but he had to say something and nothing else to say was coming to mind.

Valerie stared at him with a mixture of shock and confusion as she processed what he had said to her.

"I mean...I wasn't listening in on purpose or anything…" he poorly explained to her. "I was coming down for dinner and I heard you talking to Bill and I didn't mean to overhear but I had nowhere else to go because the stairs are so difficult to climb-"

"It's okay, Sebastian." Valerie quickly spoke over him. She did not seem angry with him but she did look a bit frazzled like she was caught off guard. "Yes, I mentioned Carlton Drake to your father. Do you know anything about him?"

Something like he is a complete psycho with a god complex and was exposed for it?

"Not much." Bash lied. Maybe by playing dumb he would get some information out of Valerie. "My mom wrote an article about him, didn't she? About his crimes, right?"

Valerie nodded her head.

"She did. Your mom was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for her story about him. You were very proud of her, if I remember correctly."

Bash smiled along with Valerie. He remembered that. He remembered being so happy about his mother's achievement.

"Did Bill know Drake?" Bash casually asked Valerie. He, of course, knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from Valerie and maybe get a bit more information about their relationship.

"Yes, he did. A long time ago." Valerie told him, though she seemed a little reluctant to admit it from her movement and tone of voice that Bash observed. "Carlton Drake used to work at the company under Dr. Connors but he was let go after three years."

"Really?" Bash asked, trying his best to sound genuinely surprised at the news. "The guy was like a genius. What did he do to be let go?"

Valerie did not answer right away. Again, she was hesitant to continue this conversation with him. Why?

"He…he was doing very...unconventional experiments while he was working at the company."

"Unconventional." Bash repeated the carefully chosen word Valerie used to explain to him. "You mean dangerous?"

"Yeah." She said as she gave him a guilty smile. "Carlton Drake was a brilliant man with great potential to change the world for the good but his methods to do it were very dangerous and even inhumane that when your father found out about it, he fired him immediately."

So, the man was a psychopath pretty much all of his life, Bash thought to himself. It did not start when he created his own company and had free reign. Drake most likely became more emboldened to continue his unconventional practices with no restrictions now that he had no one to answer to.

"So, why was he brought up in your conversation earlier?" Bash inquired further. He was no longer attempting to be coy, beating around the bush with his questions.

Valerie silently observed him before she responded to his question.

"Can you keep a secret?" She asked him. Her tone changed to a firm, serious one when she spoke. He nodded silently and waited for her to continue.

"Your father...bought Carlton Drake's company."

Bash was not expecting to hear that. His eyes widened behind the thick lenses of his glasses and he could feel his mouth hanging ajar.

"Why? Why would he buy that psychopath's company?" He asked. All of the searching he did online never brought this up. "Why is this the first time I am hearing about this?"

The purchase was made privately. Your father made sure that it was kept out of the news." Valerie explained. It did not surprise Bash that Bill had managed to keep it a secret. The money and power his family has never ceased to amaze him. "Even with Carlton Drake behind bars and no longer in charge, the reputation of the Life Foundation was tarnished beyond repair that not even the Board could fix. No one wanted to be associated with the company so the Board talked with the Shareholders and they all agreed to sell the company while it still had worth. Your father offered to pay double the price in exchange for everyone to sign an NDA. He did not want his company's reputation to go downhill as well."

Bash could not believe what he had heard. Despite everything Carlton Drake has done, Bill still took from him. What could this man have that would make his father pay double the asking price and risk his reputation for? It obviously was not the building itself since it got torn down months ago. Guess we know why it got burnt down. Drake probably did not like the thought of someone owning what he made from scratch and rather have it destroyed.

"Why did he do it?" Bash asked Valerie. She too looked a little stumped at the question.

"I don't know sweetheart." She said and shrugged her shoulders. Standing up straight from leaning on the desk she crossed her arms on her chest and sighed. "Your father rarely informs me of a quarter of the things he does. Remember, this information you heard must remain a secret, okay? You cannot tell anyone. Not even Robbie."

"I promise, Valerie." He told her truthfully. Who was he going to tell anyway? His nonexistent friends? His therapist? He barely talks to her anyway and this is not the topic of their sessions. Despite his journalistic instincts, he can keep a secret when necessary. She did not have to worry about him spilling the beans.

Valerie nodded approvingly and gave him a pat on his shoulders and thanked him.

"It's getting late, I'm going to go to bed. You should as well." She told him as she backed her way toward the bedroom door. "Don't be up too late, alright?"

"Yeah, I'm going to go down in a bit." Bash told her as she opened the bedroom door. "Good night."

"Good night." Valerie said to him and gave him one last smile before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

Now that he was alone, Bash exhaled a long deep breath and leaned back in his chair as he ran his hands through his hair.

This night revealed much more than he could have anticipated. With all this new information. Swimming in his mind, he could not even think about going to sleep.

So many questions were going through his mind but the constant one was what his father wanted from Carlton Drake?

xXx

xXx

Mercer Industries Science labs

Bill's eyes felt heavy as he stared at the mice cages lined on the wall of the lab with most of those cages emptied of any mice.

Today was such a disappointment. He cut his lunch with his son to be here for progress on the project but it turned out to be a huge disappointment in the end.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he let out a sigh that turned into a yawn.

"Coffee?" Bill heard the voice of Curt Connors ask him. Looking to his side, he could see the scientist holding out a cup for him that he gladly took.

"I'm sorry Bill." Curt said before taking a sip of his own coffee. "I really thought there was progress today."

"There was." Bill said after pulling the styrofoam cup from his lips. "Just not what we wanted."

Walking backward, Bill found a chair and sat down in it.

"How many mice did we test?" He asked Connors.

"Twenty-seven." Connors answered him.

"And what were the results again?"

"Uh…" Curt Connors sighed and turned to the table behind them and picked up a clipboard. "Ten mice died instantly. Four were rejected and then killed. Seven became too aggressive and had to be euthanized and six actually managed to live for about an hour before their systems completely failed and died."

Bill shook his head. He did not like those results. When Connors had called him to the lab, he was shown a small group of mice that had made successful results from the experiment. That proved to be premature when their bodies began to quickly deteriorate and died. It did not seem like a complete failure at first because no other tested mice had lived as long as these did, making the results promising and began to work on more mice in hopes of better results.

Unfortunately, the rest of the tests proved to have disappointing results.

"Billions of dollars spent on Drake's projects only for them to fail on us." Bill muttered when he got up from the chair and paced around the floor. "We have experimented multiple times with our subjects and nothing has come out of it. What are we doing wrong?"

Bill pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to the other side of the lab where a table stood. On top of the table was a clear cylinder tank that contained a pitch black goo-like substance.

At first glance, it appears as nothing more than a thick black liquid but as Bill came closer to the tank, the liquid began to move, sloshing from one side to another as if someone was shaking the tank from side to side.

When Bill leaned down to get a closer look at the tank, the black goo shot up toward Bill's face, as if it was attempting to get him. Bill jumped back in fright at the sudden action. He forgets that the liquid is very much alive.

"I might have an answer to that question." Curt said to him as he moved next to Bill, his eyes fixated on the living thing in the tank as well. "When Carlton Drake acquired the creature...symbiote, as he called it in his notes...he did not just test on animals."

Bill's face furrowed to a frown and he turned to Curt, hoping he is not suggesting what he is thinking.

"We are not going to test on people, Curt." He said calmly. He could not believe the man would even think of doing such a thing. Not after what they have seen through every test. "Are you insane?"

"Just hear me out." he calmly responded to Bill's question with a raised hand, hoping to calm the man down. "We have read the notes and watched the video logs. The success rate of the animals was nonexistent for Drake as well and he knew he had to take the next step if he wanted progress. He was right in doing so. The subjects were responding more positively to the bonding."

"Those subjects were people Curt!" Bill exclaimed loudly. His anger and lack of sleep were getting the better of him and have chipped away at his tolerance. "How can you be so indifferent?"

"I worked as a field medic in the army, Bill." Curt replied back, his tone had a bit of snip to it as well. "I learned a long time ago that sometimes you have to make tough decisions. Sacrifice a little for the greater good and this is the greater good." He pointed at the tank. "Can you imagine what soldiers can do if they become bonded to this thing? We could test on military vets. Those that have been permanently injured—"

"No!" Bill shook his head as he paced by the table. He was not going to fall down that same hole that Drake did and subject innocent people to a horrible death for the sake of science. "Until we can get a successful result from our animals we are not even going to think about human trials."

Curt Connors looked equally frustrated at the rejection but there was nothing he could do. Bill is the boss and what he says goes.

Bill could understand his friend's frustration. From Drake's notes, it was written that there were occasions where the host that had a missing limb would have it regrown. This is something that Curt has been working on for a long time. The symbiote tries to make an ideal host for it to be bonded with. So far, it never lasts too long.

"The General is not going to be happy about this." The Doctor calmly said to Bill. "He is expecting results as well."

"I could care less about Ross' feelings. He will just have to be patient." Bill replied and lifted the tank. He groaned at holding the weight but still managed to carry it to a door on the other wall. "Progress doesn't happen overnight. I am sure after what happened to Emil Blonsky, he will appreciate our caution in dosing soldiers with something highly dangerous."

With Bill's hands holding the heavy tank, Curt typed in a key code on the touchpad by the door that unlocked it, giving them access to the room.

The room was filled with various projects that Bill and Connors worked on personally. They called it the Special Projects vault. It was projects and experiments that needed to be kept a secret. It was nothing highly illegal but Bill would rather it not be seen by prying eyes. Not until he knows they will be of use.

Bill walked through the rows of displays of projects belonging to him and Connors and headed to the place he reserved for the symbiote.

Carefully, he placed the tank on its display. Once it was placed down, the alien creature began crawling on the tank's glass in one direction. The direction next to another one the shelved projects. A terrarium with genetically engineered spiders he and Connors had created by taking various species of spiders and harvesting their best attributes and using it to create not only a new species of spider but also use their venom that would give the injected person the same abilities of said spider. It was one of the first projects they had shown to Ross with promising results from the rounds of animal testing they had done and gave a human trial a chance with the General in the audience as well. All seemed well after the soldier that volunteered took the injection of spider venom then not long after did the soldier collapse and had a seizure before dying in front of them. Distraught at the death and disappointed at the failure of the project, Bill shelved the spiders and worked on more ideas to Ross' request. Though the project was a failure, Bill did not want to give up on it and worked on it here and there, slowly modifying the spiders and their venom. Who knows when it might be needed in the future.

The aggressive alien continuously hits the glass of its tank in the hopes of breaking to get to the spiders but the tank is made with laminated glass, making it difficult for the alien to break through in its hostless form.

Bill could not believe that someone like Carlton Drake had this in his possession. He could not even imagine what he planned to do with it if he had managed to successfully bond it to a person. Thankfully, the man never got the chance and he never will.

"Is that it for this creature then?" Curt asked Bill. "Are we done using this magnificent alien for testing? Are you going to hand it into Ross or someone in the government to lock it away?"

"Of course not." Bill answered him defensively. He gave the alien one last look before marching toward Curt. "Too much has been sacrificed to acquire this specimen. My son is crippled and nearly died with his mother because I got them involved in my business with Drake. I put targets on their backs and now I have to live with the consequences of my actions. I am determined to make this worthwhile, Curt. Believe me."

Bill walked away, leaving Curt in stunned silence at his friends' outburst.

Returning to his office, Bill slumped into his chair and rubbed his face with his hand in frustration. He could chuck it to his lack of sleep but that is not the real reason. Even under a lot of pressure and lack of sleep he can remain calm and composed but lately, it has been harder to manage.

Moving his hand from his face, Bill faced his desk and leaned over to open the middle drawer he uses to store his pens and other miscellaneous things. Reaching further back, he pulled out a folded photo of Bash who was thirteen at the time, and his mother Amy, both of them smiling happily in the photo.

He felt guilty. He felt so guilty for involving Amy into his scheme to take over Drake's company. He knew it was wrong to involve her but she was the only one he could trust to uncover the truth about Drake and leave his company open for a hostile takeover where he can acquire his projects. This one project in particular.

What a thing Amy had uncovered. With Dora Skirth's cooperation, Amy had uncovered that not only was Drake using and killing people to test his experiments, Drake had also discovered the existence of aliens from his numerous space expeditions. He began using people to test the said aliens and see their reactions to the exposure of human contact. When he discovered their parasitic abilities, Skirth said Drake scoured the streets for the homeless to use and dispose of them when they died. Amy had given him the aliens and the information about them before the Feds could seize it all. He owed her a lot for her help.

He should have protected her better. He grossly underestimated Carlton Drake and the power he had acquired after his departure from Mercer Industries. When he heard that Dora Skirth and her family were killed, he knew it wasn't a coincidence and tried to get the Feds involved to protect Amy and Bash but they would not help for insufficient evidence that proves Drake has been killing those that testified against him.

He had a plan to get them both to safety but something went wrong. He did not know how it could have gone south. He was so careful with his plan to get them to safety and prove that Carlton Drake is behind the deaths but something went wrong. Someone, he still does not know who revealed his plan to Drake or to someone that is working with him.

He can still hear Amy's frantic voice calling him late one night, telling him that she was next after finding a mutilated animal and a photo of not only her but Bash as well. She was so scared, her worry focused on Bash. Whoever was doing the killing for Drake was threatening to kill Bash along with her.

He remembered promising to protect them both. Nothing was going to happen to them, he promised her. After booking them a flight to New York, he told her that they can keep working from there to prove Drake is behind everything and find out who is doing the killings for him.

He waited all night. Amy was texting him when she and Bash were leaving their home and when they got to the airport and when they were going on the flight. He kept checking the flight's status and when it was nearing JFK, he personally went to the airport to meet them. They were not on the flight, despite having been checked in.

Something was wrong. He called her this time, only for it to go straight to voicemail. Worried, he called San Francisco Police and explained the situation. To his horror, they told him Amy and Bash were found on the side of the road not far from the airport. Immediately, he flew to San Francisco to be given the full details by the police. Amy was killed, her body heavily mutilated and Bash was badly beaten but miraculously, was still alive and holding on for dear life.

Bill was devastated by what happened to them. Whoever did it, wanted them to suffer. Amy did not die quickly and was the main focus of the torment they endured while Bash, his son was beaten in all the right places to hurt him but remained conscious to feel every bit of pain.

Bill's devastation turned to revenge and made it his mission to find out who was working for Drake. First, he made sure to change the attack to a devastating car crash. It took a bit of money and influence but he convinced the police chief in charge and anyone else involved to do it, for the sake of Bash. He knew his son was going to want to know everything about what happened and he needed to get ahead of the game. He also wanted it to look like that is the official story, to drop the guard of those involved.

Months of searching had finally come up with nothing. The people involved were certainly professionals as they left nothing to indicate who they are other than there were three and all of them were male. Bill was disappointed that that's all they managed to find out but it was not all bad news. Bash had awakened from his coma. The Doctor said it was going to be a long road to recovery and it was very likely that Bash was not going to be the same as he was. Bill did not care, he was just glad that his son was alive and made it a priority to make sure he did everything to help his son's recovery from getting the best doctors and therapists to renovating the Penthouse to make it easier for Bash when he is released from the hospital.

Despite everything he has done for Bash and seeing the gradual progress of his recovery, Bill could not look at him without feeling immense guilt for what happened to him and his mother. Having to lie to Bash was even more difficult than he thought. Bash has this very observant nature to him which makes it difficult to lie to him. He was already a fairly talented journalist that would make a killing in that career. Bash could tell something was off when he asked about what happened to him and his mother and the nightmares he was having did not help either, luckily Dr. Sanders was doing her best to try to make him believe it is only a dream but he and Valerie and anyone that knew the truth stuck to the plan to tell Bash that it was a car accident and even gave him a copy of the "official" police report. After that, Bash finally gave in and believed that it was indeed a car accident that he survived.

Lying to Bash and having to see him struggle during his recovery was something that he hated to see knowing that he was the cause of it all so he keeps a distance from him. He does not mean to but he does not try to stop it and keeps himself busy with work to help him not think of what he caused.

Bill knows how this is affecting his family. Valerie complains to him about it all the time and all he can do is apologize to her as he listens to her tell him how his absence is affecting the boys. Robbie is rarely even home and Bash is becoming more aloof than usual and stays in his room when he is not at school.

He tried to make it up to them by coming home for the weekend and spend time with them but work has been more hectic and with General Ross breathing down his neck about the military project he is being so secretive about, that he had to cancel at the last minute to work with Curt on the various projects they have been working on to present. Then he tried to spend time with Bash and at least have lunch with him since he was going to be on the same side of town but that proved to be a failure as well when he had to leave to see the progress of Project Hybrid.

He took one last look at the photo in his hand, his gaze focused on the sweet smiling face of Amy.

"It will be worth it." Bill muttered to himself. "I promise, Amy. You and Bash suffered to get the project out of hands and I promise to make it all worthwhile."

xXx

xXx

So, what do you think of the first chapter? I know I know, it's not as exciting as most first chapters of many other superhero stories but as I mentioned before it's only meant to be an introduction for the characters and to set up the story. It might be like this for another chapter or two but I am not too sure. I'll have to see how everything looks when I begin to work on the next chapters but more interesting stuff will happen soon enough.

While I was working on what characters I wanted in this story and what part they will play, I decided to come up with my own fan cast, just for fun and thought I would share it with you guys. It also gives me a chance to share what characters will be a part of the story.

Sebastian "Bash" Blackwell- Brandon Flynn

Robert "Robbie" Mercer- Greg Sulkin

William "Bill" Mercer- Timothy Olyphant

Valerie Mercer- Carla Gugino

Gwen Stacy- Nicola Peltz

Felicia Hardy- Dove Cameron (with dark hair)

Liz Allen- Camila Mendes

Harry Osborn- Nick Robinson

Ryan Rappaport- Cody Christian

Norman Osborn- Antony Starr

Captain George Stacy- Dennis Leary

Walter Hardy- Dylan McDermott

Lydia Hardy- Connie Britton

So, this is who I have so far. As the story progresses and more characters are added, I will include them to the list and fan cast the characters. If anyone wants to share their own fan cast, please do, I would love to read them. Maybe I will even change up my own fan cast if I like them.

One last thing before I end this Author's Note, If you have not seen my Profile, I would recommend you go and check it out as I have typed out the various Venom stories that I plan on working on. Mainly, this will lead into the MCU but for now, the story is going to solely be his origin story until I get to the first Avengers movie. I might JUST MIGHT put in a few Marvel heroes in the story if I feel like their presence is needed but other than that, don't expect to see them making a permanent appearance just yet. Right now, I need to have the OC just focus on being a teenager and dealing with being bonded to a dangerous parasitic alien and have to save the city from time to time.

I believe that is all I need to say. I hope you enjoyed the story. Please leave a review or message me for any comments or questions and I will respond as soon as I can.