Author's Note: Jeeze... I thought ff.net would never get back to a point where I could post stuff again... Anyway, thanks for being patient while the server was stupid, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. If all goes well, I should have another for you sometime this week... But only if you keep those reviews coming. ^_-

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A trickle, a sensation, a wave of unexplainable emotion. A spider sense. -His- Spider sense. With great speed and agility, Peter turned, dodging the knife and staring at it as it found its mark in the center of the very mask he'd been studying. That voice... the one that had haunted his nightmares since the supposed end to that villains reign of terror.

"H-how?" How was it possible for him to have remembered everything so quickly. Only a moment ago, Peter had watched him as he nearly fell into a sleep state. So how? The Daily Bugle not to far off answered his question and he cursed himself inwardly for not noticing it sooner. It was back as it once was. Villain cornering hero. But, he reminded himself, the hero always came out on top.

"So... Gobby's back to play some more?" Plastering on a smirk to hide the fear that pounded in his chest like a drum, Peter too, slipped into his alter ego. It always made him feel more confident when he was Spiderman.

Pulling the knife out of the wooden mask he had managed to spear instead of Peter, the Goblin offered his nemesis a predatory smile. "Did you miss me, web-head?" he asked, mock fondness in his voice as he slashed towards Peter with the silver blade once again.

"Of course," He responded, lying through his teeth as he dodged the Goblin again. In the absence of his nemesis, he'd forgotten how fast the hellish man really was. It would take everything he had to keep dodging, but then again, Harry was only right downstairs. He cast a worried glance at the door, hoping to God that his best friend would not decide to pick that point in time to wander upstairs.

"Fighting a psycho in a confined space always makes my day." With that, he lashed out at Norman with his fist, taking the offensive in order to better his chances.

The auburn-haired psycho dodged the punch easily, his far from sane grin widening. "Aw... it warms my heart to hear you say that. In fact," he continued, arching his brow as a insincere look of hurt crossed his face, "I feel bad that I didn't break out the flightsuit and glider for the occasion. But those were -missing- from -my- lab." It was a gamble - he really didn't know if Peter had hidden his things, but both halves of him doubted the other man would have left the flightsuit and glider where he could find them.

The hurt look split into one of horrific fury and the demon that wore Norman Osborn's flesh lashed out once again with his weapon.

"I've got no idea what you're talking about," Peter started, bending backwards and flipping to dodge another swipe from the knife that the lunatic before him still wielded. "And frankly, I'm hurt that you would blame me for something like that." But this was no game to be easily played and super hero reprimanded himself for treating this as such. It was time to get serious before he ended up with a scar down his back.

"Alright Gobby. Put Mr. Osborn back in control before you get yourself hurt." Goblin was fast, too fast in fact, and, with chestnut hair falling in his eyes, Peter did something he'd never thought possible. He tripped over a footstool. Stumbling backward, he caught himself before he could fall and flipped around to steady himself once more.

"Sorry," the Goblin replied, insane glee coursing through his veins at the sight of his enemy faltering, "but Osborn's otherwise occupied." And with that, the former head of Oscorp lunged forward, attempting to punctuate his sentence and puncture the arm that Peter had left wide open.

A searing pain ripped through Peter's arm as Osborn tried to take his arm off with the small object that was now impaling the super hero's upper arm. Wrenching away, Peter glared, iron red blood slipping down his muscular arm and splattering on the floor. "Jeeze Gobby. I believe you've gotten faster." He smirked lightly, pulling the knife out of his arm and throwing it over the bar. "But you're still not as fast as me."

The Goblin returned Peter's confident smirk, although the expression did not extend to his eyes, which were locked on the weapon on the ground, a calculating look in them. "Pretty big talk for someone who's bleeding as badly as you are. And as I recall, that's not the first time you've hurt your poor arm. What's the count now? Two?"

Slowly the monster in control of Norman pulled his winter-gray gaze away from the knife on the floor and met Peter's eyes. "Or has someone other than me had the good fortune of marking you, hero?"

Before the auburn-haired man's nemesis could respond, however, a voice floated into the room from the hallway outside. "Dad?"

The Goblin grunted softly, letting the former head of Oscorp step back into control of the body the pair shared. There was a subtle shift from insanity back to sanity in Norman's light eyes and then the man stumbled, almost falling before catching himself on the edge of the mini bar. Switching between his two personas always took a lot out of him... and the memories from his time spent as his alter ego were always vague and fuzzy. Like something out of a dream.

Offering Peter an unreadable look, he answered his son. "In here, Harry."

And as if on cue, the younger Osborn entered, worry etched upon his face. "I though you might have gotten lost, or something might have happened," Harry explained softly, his eyes fixing automatically on the carpet. The only time he had been invited into his father's room was when his father wanted to, 'have a word with him'. Those words never ended well, and old habits died hard.

Peter held his breath when Harry entered, glaring at the CEO and panicking at the same time. Harry was going to find out he was Spiderman, which meant that he'd lose his best friend and probably gain another enemy. He smirked lightly, an image of Green Goblin and mini Goblin son floating into his mind as he waited for Harry to say something, anything. Hand tightly covering his wound, a crimson pool forming at his feet, Peter finally exhaled, the first sound in the room for what seemed like an eternity. And still, he could not bring himself to say anything. Let Harry initiate the conversation to come. Peter would not start something he was afraid he couldn't finish.

"Jesus, Pete," Harry started noticing the blood at his roommate's feet. "What the hell happened?"

"Peter tripped over the footstool coming back to me after looking at my masks," Norman supplied quietly. "When he fell, his arm scraped the knife I keep under the bar. ...It was sticking out... and I had noticed it before he tripped, too. I should have moved it before something like that could happen."

The youth glanced from elder to son with obvious apprehension. Shoulders tense, Peter took a step backward, trying desperately to wake himself from this terrible nightmare. The Goblin was back, he'd just tried to kill him, and now, his only friend had walked in on the entire thing. Oh, and he couldn't forget the fact that he'd been impaled in the arm, no, of course not.

* Maybe I should just get it removed, * he mused. * It's caused me enough trouble as is. * That would be funny. Swinging from building to building with only one arm. Painful, but funny.

"Don't worry about it, sir." He locked his now icy blue gaze with Norman's. "It's not like you were -trying- to get me hurt."

"Are you sure?" the elder Osborn asked, an evident lack of sanity swimming to the surface of his gaze for a moment before disappearing again. "I feel bad, Peter."

It took all his restraint to keep from lunging at the madman before him, but some how, Peter accomplished it. Shaking his head, auburn locks falling into his eyes, he spoke above a whisper, eyes steady on Harry, so as not to let his anger get a hold of him.

"It's fine."

For a moment, there was silence as Norman gazed at him looking somewhat worried, and then slowly he nodded. "Well, at least let me get the first aid kit when we get back downstairs." Then with a gesture towards the door, the elder Osborn said, "Shall we?"

Harry nodded mutely, sure that he was missing out on something, but unable to put his finger on it. Had Peter and his father gotten into a fight? No. That couldn't be right. Norman and Peter got along famously - in fact, Harry could remember joking once that the elder man should adopt Peter - and besides, his father would never have hurt Peter. Even if there -had- been a falling out between the two men.

The hero nodded sharply, watching Norman move toward the door before starting there himself, hand still clasped around his wound. Shooting Harry a small smile, Peter exited the room before either man and was halfway down the hall before he stopped and turned. There was so much to think about, he needed as much time to himself as possible.

"It's still bleeding pretty bad and I don't want to stain your rug. I'm going to go wash it off before I put a bandage on it. I'll meet you downstairs." With that said, he continued walking. Hadn't he seen a bathroom just down the hall? He wandered, mind racing with things other than where he was going.

Sure enough, the bathroom was where he'd seen it and, opening the door hastily, Peter slipped in, locking the door behind him, blood smearing all over the knob.

"I can't believe this. All that hard work, all that time... for nothing. I could have lost my job... and all I get is a lunatic trying to slit my throat." That was selfish, this he knew. The real thing that bothered him was that he'd let down Harry. The Goblin was loose again and Spiderman was going to have to stop him, just like before. Harry would never forgive him.

Cool liquid slipping down his still bleeding arm, Peter sighed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Blue met blue, lightning running up his spine. Harry! He'd left his best friend with a lunatic. How stupid could you get?

"And they say I'm a genius." He muttered cynically, quickly wrapping up his wound with a spare towel before stopping in his tracks. Norman would never let the Goblin hurt Harry. This, Peter was certain. Why? He wasn't sure. Perhaps it was all the times that the Goblin had attacked and Harry had been present. He'd never full out attacked his own son. The worst that had happened was a bump on the head. Okay, well maybe it wasn't a bump.

And suddenly his phone was ringing, causing the brunette to jump nearly five feet in the air. Damn those high pitched ringers. "Hello?" He answered roughly, walking out of the bathroom. "Mr. Jameson?" Well this was new. Jameson had never really called him personally before. It had always been his secretary. "Yeah, 'course I can come in." He nodded into the phone, knowing full well that the man on the other line wouldn't be able to see him. "An emergency? Right. I'll be there as soon as possible." A click met his ears as he folded the phone, placing it back in his pockets as he hurried along the halls back toward Harry.

"I'm really sorry about this Harry," He started, frowning lightly at Norman, ocean blue flashing with an emotion only the elder man would recognize. "Something came up at work and I've got to take off. You know Jameson, busy this, hurry that, don't be late or your fired and I'll sue you for everything you've got." He chuckled at that, smiling at his best friend. "I'll see you at home later, right?"

"Yeah. Sure thing," Harry responded, a vacant expression on his face.

And Norman who stood behind his son, offered a similar blank look, his eyes lost in the carpet just beyond Peter's feet. "I honestly wonder why you put up with him sometimes, Peter. But I guess if you like the job, you stick with it despite who you work for." Raising his light eyes to find his son's roommates, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. "Oh, Peter, before you go... Are we meeting tomorrow for another one of my sessions?"

The blossoming photographer locked his eyes with Norman's, searching them for any sign of the insanity he knew dwelled deep within.

"I'm not sure." He finally replied, calm expression plastered on his face as he kept his eyes locked on the sane half of his nemesis. "It really depends on how big of an emergency this is. Judging by Jameson's tone, it's probably about some psycho causing chaos. He probably wants me to snap some shots of Spiderman taking him down." He really hated it when he was mocked. Especially by Norman and his alter ego. It made him feel low, like dirt even. And Norman's comment was only adding salt to the wound that was now a constant reminder his nightmare was alive and well. No one else knew how to get under his skin like Norman did. "I'll call when I find out."

Nodding thoughtfully, Norman replied, "Well, you'd better hurry then. I would hate to find out Harry and I got you fired somehow."

And with that, Peter turned and headed back toward the entrance and out the door, pausing only once to shoot a warning glance at Norman.