A/N: This is NOT the final chapter. There's another one after this, don't worry. Enjoy the climax of my story, I hope it suits the rest of it. Go on! Read it!









      Spiderman sprinted along the roof, the glider's engine roaring in his ears.  "Grab my hand!" he shouted as he picked up speed coming to the edge of the roof.  

      "What are you doing?! We can't make that jump!" Harry shrieked.

      "Hold on!" Spiderman shouted.  Harry's grip tightened as they made the leap to the next building, Harry's weight featherlight compared to Spiderman's strength.

      And suddenly the glider was right there in front of him, the Goblin holding one of those special bombs.  Harry yelled in surprise as Spiderman yanked him into a swerve around the Goblin. The Goblin appeared again in front of them, at the edge of the building, giving them nowhere to jump from.  Spiderman halted in surprise and instinct, waiting for the green flash, the sudden death. Simple sadness suddenly took him.  He'd survived so much, and now he'd be killed in an instant with his best friend.  He suddenly regretted never having told MJ his true identity.

      But the Goblin hovered for a moment, hesitating, like he did that day at the hospital.  He stared at them, fingers flexing around the bomb, obviously aching to throw it.  

      Spiderman was shocked when the Goblin disappeared, circling behind him again, roaring in frustration.  It suddenly struck Peter, that the Goblin wouldn't harm him if Harry was at risk. No bombs.  A small advantage, but still one in Peter's favor.

      Spiderman made the next leap, gripping Harry's hand tighter.  If he was right, and the Goblin wouldn't attack while Harry was near, then Peter had a good chance of getting Harry home by rooftop. He didn't want Harry to be there if the Goblin should suddenly change his mind and decide that his death wasn't such a big deal.

      As they came to the next leap, Harry stumbled a little, trying to keep up.  He tripped over the edge of the wall, and Peter's heart leapt into his throat.  As he jumped, he realized Harry was losing his grip on his hand.  He was running on the wrong side, holding Peter's injured hand.  The one with thickly bandaged fingers under the glove.

      No grip there, Parker!

      Harry's sweaty hand was slipping out of Peter's gloved one.  He lost the hand completely while in the air.

      "No!"

Spinning to look over the wall when he landed, he searched desperately for Harry.  Harry was plummeting to the ground, screaming the whole way.  

It suddenly came to Spiderman in a flash, who the person in the tram was in his dream.  




You killed my father. Now you'll let me die, too?
"Harry! No!"

He dove off the building and began to follow Harry's descent.  Harry was falling quickly, but Spiderman was streamlined and catching up.  He suddenly felt a wave of heat and heard the roar of an engine just above him.  Not now, go away, come on, he thought in frustration, glancing upward as best he could.  

The Goblin was also plummeting toward the ground, but he was passing Spiderman, ignoring him, it seemed.  He continued to rocket toward Harry.

If he gets to Harry before I do, protection is gone, maybe for both of us.

Spiderman mentally cursed with the realization and tightened his position, willing himself to fall faster, but compared to the Goblin's engine, he would not make it.  

Harry's voice was raised in a long, drawn-out scream as the ground raced up at him.  His father was catching up.  Peter forgot momentarily about the race to save Harry.  The ground was so close…never mind about protection, he just wanted Harry to end up as something else than a spot on the pavement.  Peter prayed that the Goblin would make it in time.  He almost laughed at the sheer irony of cheering the Goblin on.

The Goblin shot past Harry and came up from beneath him, snatching him right out of the air. He gracefully angled the glider down to the ground, Harry securely in his grip. Harry's fear of death turned to fear of the Goblin when he felt the strong arms encircle him, and he stiffened, paralyzed.  Roughly sitting Harry down at his feet, the Goblin held him by the shoulders while steering the glider.

With a sinking feeling, Peter realized that now that the Goblin was sure Harry wouldn't be harmed, he would have no qualms about blowing up Peter.  Spiderman webbed his way to the ground one handed as the Goblin swooped down in front of him.

The Green Goblin cackled as he armed the bomb, his opponent beat at long last.
 
Harry reached up, latching onto the Goblin's arm.  "No!" he screamed. "Please!"

The Goblin yanked his arm away, but that slight pause was all that Spiderman needed.  He was around the corner, out of the alley, and on the deserted back street in the blink of an eye.

The Goblin quickly followed.  Harry used the arm to pull himself to his knees.  The Goblin tried to pull his arm away without hurting Harry, but Harry held tight, wrestling for possession of the bomb.

The Goblin roughly tore his arm from Harry's grasp.  He flicked his wrist, tossing the bomb out into the air, towards Spiderman, but it was too late.  It would explode before it even hit the ground.  The Goblin rocketed away, distancing himself from the weapon.  Harry stared as the bomb spun into space, then began to emit a green light. "Don't look at it!" the Goblin snarled at Harry, blocking his view and shielding his eyes.  Spiderman followed the advice as well.

The bomb went up in a blinding green flash, illuminating the night around them for an instant.

Spiderman's eyes darted over the dark street. It was little more than a large alley behind the huge Oscorp building and various other abandoned places.  He swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat.  It felt like it had been rubbed with sandpaper and set on fire.  Another coughing fit threatened to overtake him as he spun quickly, searching for the glider.  

Where'd they go?

The glider was returning, circling back, and the Goblin held a new bomb.  A regular explosive, this time.  Peter's brow furrowed.  Why a regular bomb? Maybe because Peter could simply outrun the others?

Harry reached for the Goblin's arm again, but this time the Goblin caught the hand and easily subdued him.  He made that almost casual, careless flick of his wrist again, and the bomb spun towards Spiderman.  

Spiderman dodged it easily, but he didn't have to.  The bomb didn't land anywhere near him.  Bad shot? he wondered.

Harry stared in wonder and relief.  "You missed! You didn't hit him!" he yelled without thinking.  

"No need," the Goblin hissed.

And it was true. There was no need to get the bomb close to Spiderman.  Sure, the explosion missed him, but the smoke was beginning to pour out, filling the air around them.  Spiderman's throat constricted, and he began to cough, dry, wheezing coughs that took him to one knee.

"Spiderman! Look out!"

Peter wanted to scream that he knew, he knew the Goblin was about ten feet away from him with a new toy.  Instead, he hacked and coughed some more, choking on the smoke.

Harry, in his excitement, had raised to his knees on the glider.  The Goblin, in his distraction, hadn't noticed.  As he took the glider into another turn, Harry wobbled and began to pitch forward.  He yelled in fright.

The Goblin snatched the back of his shirt and held him on as he lowered the glider, stopping a foot above the ground.  "Get off," he growled.

Harry needed no more encouragement.  He began to climb down.

A blur of blue and red suddenly smacked into the Goblin, knocking him clean off the glider and sending him flying into a building.  Spiderman had swallowed his coughs long enough to send a flying kick at the villain.  He rolled to his knees, sputtering in the smoke.

The glider went haywire, flying away and returning, searching for its master.  Said master was leaning against the building, shaking his head to clear it.  The glider, which had returned to him and was waiting like some monstrous dog, flew away when the Goblin pressed a button on his arm.  He climbed to his feet and watched his foe.

The two slowly approached one another, eyes locked.  They circled like two cats with their backs arched, balanced on the balls of their feet.  Spiderman let the rage build as he circled warily.

He had sworn a covenant while his love lay comatose in his arms that he would kill this psychopath, and he intended to keep the promise.

This was the reason MJ was in a coma.  And that was all that mattered.

Just when Spiderman had decided to attack, the Goblin calmly raised a hand.  "Before you hit me," he said conversationally.  "I should ask." Had his mask not been permanently fixed in a demented grin, his face would have split into one.  "How's your sweetheart?"

Spiderman's fist exploded through the air where the Goblin's head had been a moment ago.  The Goblin spun away from him with amazing speed and Spiderman whirled to face him, matching him in speed.  The final battle began.

Punches, thrown at blinding speed shot back and forth.  None connected.  Blocks were constantly made, while at the same time punching.  The Goblin let Spiderman force him back, calmly blocking and dodging.  Spiderman spun into a high kick, but the Goblin ducked under it, at the same time bringing his fist up in an uppercut.   

Spiderman jerked out of the way and swung at him, throwing his whole body forward into it.  The Goblin ducked easily and kicked him from behind, using Spiderman's own momentum to send him forward into a stumbling run.  "Is she dead yet?"

Spiderman snarled and swung again, wild with rage.  The Goblin caught the fist and backhanded Spiderman.  "Or in a coma," he continued casually, as though they were talking over coffee.  "A living death."    

Spiderman gave an inarticulate scream and attacked wildly, not landing any punches. The Goblin smoothly blocked each one, sometimes pushing Spiderman roughly or smacking him, little blows to humiliate and madden him.  Spiderman was wild with fury.
"Did you know, little scientist, that comatose people can usually hear everything said around them? That they are alive in every aspect? With feelings and thoughts? Tell me, child.  What do you think your love feels for you?"

His voice dropped to a low hiss.  "A hatred as strong as my own?"

Spiderman's next punch flew with brutal accuracy, a bone jarring uppercut to the jaw.  The impact lifted the Goblin a foot into the air and sent him flying to land on his back.  
Spiderman pressed his attack, boosted by the blow he'd made.  He strode confidently forward.  "You talk too much, Gobby," he called in his raspy voice.  "It makes you slow."  





Overconfidence is a tricky thing.  One is never sure if he's being overconfident or just optimistic.  In Peter's case, it was over confidence.  He had not weighed a broken hand into the equation of pressing his attack immediately.

The Goblin caught Spiderman's punch, and held the fist, rather than just blocking it. Before Spiderman could pull free or kick, the Goblin's fist had connected with his eye.  Spiderman stumbled back, feeling the eye swelling immediately.  He swayed on his feet, struggling not to pass out.  That's gonna leave a mark, he thought stupidly for a moment.

The Goblin pressed his own attack, closing in on Spiderman, who backed hastily away in a series of acrobatic moves.  Sometimes just appearing confident was discouraging to the enemy.   The effort put into making those flips and leaps made the Olympic gymnasts look like they were lying on a beach.

The Goblin responded by throwing a bomb.  The night was suddenly illuminated as fire exploded around them in a fury, leaping to consume the garbage filled dumpsters and trash filling the alley. Spiderman's spider sense immediately rose to a roar as the flames grew around him, canceling out all other warnings.  Spiderman instinctively began to back out of the fire when a green hand caught his arm and jerked him back into the smoke and flame.  Another punch connected with the side of his head, and he threw one of his own in return, into the Goblin's stomach, doubling him over.  He turned to escape the flame once more, but the Goblin caught his arm again, yanking him back.  The Goblin made no attempts to escape.  

It occurred to Peter that that night the Goblin had died, maybe he hadn't cared if the glider kept going and killed him as well.  Even if it had caught Spiderman, the Goblin would've been killed, too.  Peter shivered suddenly, despite the flames and heat surrounding him.  The Green Goblin would stop at nothing to kill him, even if it meant his own death.  And that was an advantage over Spiderman, who wanted very much to remain alive.

Spiderman looked into the other's yellow eyes for a moment, debating whether to continue fighting or to grab Harry, get out of there and live to fight another day.
No. This is it. It's now or never. He's only getting stronger. You have to finish this now.
The Goblin waited patiently, almost as though he, too were waiting to see what Spiderman would decide.  He tilted his head and spread his arms as if to say, Well?
Spiderman clenched his good fist.  He would fight to the last breath.  But not this way. This was the Goblin's way, and Peter wouldn't be able to hold out long with a broken hand, the way he was fighting. He was letting the Goblin antagonize him and bait him, which led to sloppy fighting.

Get control of yourself. Don't listen to him. He's died once already, you can win again.
All this couldn't have taken more than two seconds, but to the two men standing among the flame and fury, it seemed eternity.  And suddenly…the moment broke.

"One of us will die tonight," the Goblin said softly.  "I promise you that."

Peter attacked, but in a calm and careful manner this time.  With fluid movements, strength and speed, he and the Goblin began the dance with death.

The Goblin's manner had changed too.  There was no playful note to it anymore.  He was as intent on Spiderman's death as Spiderman was on his.

A childish fear grew in Spiderman as the fight began.  Could he win this?  Just looking at the Goblin was frightening.  With the fire and smoke reflected in his eyes and suit, it was like fighting a demon. In a way, he supposed, he was.  This was a creature from the dead.

A creature straight out of Hell.

He abruptly shut his fear off.  This was no demon.  He couldn't allow himself to become frightened like this.  This was Norman Osborn behind the mask.  It was a human being.  He had to think of it in those terms.  

Nice to meet you, Peter. Harry's told me so much about you.

The Goblin threw two punches, both blocked.  He immediately brought his foot up in a high kick to Spiderman's chest, sending him staggering back.

It's a great honor to meet you, sir.

Spiderman was on his feet in an instant.  He flowed through one of the Goblin's blocks and sent him flying back into the wall. There was a loud thud as he hit the wall, and he lay for a moment on the ground, gasping after having the wind knocked out of him.  
I've read all your research. Really brilliant stuff.

Spiderman swiftly moved to him and joined him on the ground when the Goblin leg-swept him.  The Goblin rolled to his feet, still coughing, and brought his foot down in an awkward stomp where Spiderman's head had been a split second before.  Spiderman felt the air of the foot rushing by his face, but couldn't escape the other foot that swung into his side.  The air rushed from his lungs, and Spiderman let out a pitiful cough.
Your parents must be very proud.

The Goblin started to kick once more when Spiderman rocked and twisted, using his momentum to send both feet into the Goblin's bent knees. A cry of pain escaped the Goblin as his knees snapped back and locked. He staggered , unable to keep his balance.  Spiderman leapt to his feet.

Spiderman spun into a kick.  The Goblin barely ducked it, knees stiff and painful.  He threw a punch at blinding speed.  The blow landed in Peter's gut, knocking the wind out of him.  He carefully controlled his breathing, suck in little bits of air, inflating his lungs slowly.  Take it slow, an inner voice whispered.  If you try to suck in too much air, the pain will grow.

Trouble was, the Goblin was continuing to throw punches, and it was hard to block punches without air.  Spiderman, pressed for time, tried something rather strange.  He coiled his legs and leapt over the Goblin's head, coming down in a ready stance on the other side.  Now it was Spiderman on the offensive, carefully avoiding using his broken hand.

Be careful, his inner voice cautioned.  He fights dirty, don't give him your injury.
The Goblin caught his good fist again, and Spiderman immediately thrust the elbow of his bad hand forward, hitting the Goblin in the chin and sending him back a few paces.  He pressed the attack, landing a roundhouse on the Goblin's chin and then an uppercut to the jaw.

Spiderman snap kicked the Goblin's stomach, which the latter not only blocked, but caught the foot in both hands and twisted, sending Spiderman to the ground, knocking the air out of him once more.  Suddenly, Spiderman's cough took him.  He began to gag and wheeze.  The Goblin moved one final time to kill Spiderman, crush his skull forever. He began to laugh.






Norman Osborn was in the dreamy half awake state he entered whenever the Goblin took over.  He had a vague understanding what was happening, but didn't really grasp reality.  It was as though he were watching from afar.

Now, as he looked out through Goblin eyes, he remembered the past night.  He remembered all that had happened.  He remembered forcing the Goblin to save his son, screaming for him to save his son.  The Goblin had concurred, partly for his own reasons, partly from Norman's force.  Using all that will power had weakened Norman and the Goblin had pushed him back with ease.

Now Norman focused once more, his weary mind crying out for rest.  

Spiderman…attacking him…

No, Peter Parker.  The boy I loved like a son.

And he took you from your own son, Osborn!

Norman felt his automatic acceptance of the Goblin's words, not really wanting to argue, or wanting to see what was happening.

You see how he attacks you? He knows it's you, and he tries to kill you.  You would have us leave him be?

Yes…Norman though blearily.  You're right…

He watched impassively as Spiderman lay on the ground before him, gasping out his last breaths. Goblin laughter cavorted through his mind.  "So ends the life of another bug," the Goblin shouted with glee as he swung his foot into his adversary's side.  "And how appropriate that he will be squashed under my foot, like any other insect."

Thoughts pushed through, despite the Goblin's angry arguments.  He attacks the Goblin, not me.  He didn't want to kill me when he knew me as Norman Osborn.  I don't want to kill him, either.

Norman began to feel anger.  I don't want to kill him.  I will not kill him.
 
The Goblin was a part of him, a part of his own mind. He had always prided himself on self control, and by God, he would control himself now.

No!!!






Spiderman stared up at the Goblin, sucking in air, coughing, gasping more air.  He had made it so far…survived so much…now to be killed in an instant, crushed like a…well, a bug…under the Goblin's foot because he had a measly cough.  Spiderman hoped that Harry and MJ would be okay.  Then he hoped that the whole city would be okay.
Spiderman shut his eyes, waiting for the blow, but none came. He hesitantly opened one eye.  The other immediately followed, out of curiosity.

The Goblin had stepped away, holding his hands to his head. He shook his head hard, and started to move forward, then back.

What is he doing??!!

Spiderman immediately got to his feet, still coughing, and cautiously waited, watching the Goblin.  He had turned away from Spiderman, and was swaying back and forth slightly, still clutching his head.

Spiderman stood, unable to think what to do.  Attack seemed like a good idea, but something held him back.

The Goblin suddenly spun to Spiderman, hands still pressed to his temples.  "Hit me," he whispered haltingly.  "Now! Attack now!"

Spiderman needed no further encouragement.  He swung a fist at the Goblin, who did absolutely nothing to stop it.  The Goblin was lifted off his feet and flew into the building.  Spiderman hesitated before pressing the attack.

The Goblin began to get up, then stopped.  Both hands flew to his head, and a scream tore out of him, a scream of unbearable pain.  The unearthly sound echoed into the night, and Spiderman stood for a moment, stunned, not comprehending what was going on.  The Goblin looked once more at Spiderman.  "What are you….w-w-what are you waiting for!?" he screamed.  "Attack!"

Different voice, Peter though in wonder.  What's going on?

He attacked once more, but this time, the Goblin blocked and swung, movements slow and jerky.  Spiderman blocked the punch and began to move forward again.






OSBORN, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE  DOING?!?!

Norman didn't answer.  He couldn't, just then.  He was using all his strength to remain motionless, to let Spiderman beat him.  The Goblin's rage was almost too much to fight against mentally, and the pain was tearing him apart.

This is my body.  My mind.  He is a part of my mind.  I will control him.

You don't know what you're doing! You'll ruin everything!

I am Norman Osborn. Not the Green Goblin.  I will not take another life. I am –

Goddammit, Osborn, what are you trying to do?

-- Norman Osborn.  I am Norman –

I tried to help you! You would resist my help and die?

-- Osborn.

You stupid, weak, pathetic human being.  I offer so much. You would rather die than take what's ours. Your weakness disgusts me, Osborn.

Not so weak, though.  It appears I'm strong enough to fight you, Goblin.  You taught me something.  Not to let feelings get in the way, remember? I'm not afraid to die. In fact, I'm ready for it.

Then die. I will take control.

He could hear the words being exchanged in his mind coming out of his mouth in a jumble of words and voices that didn't match. Norman could feel his alter personality taking control as it had done so many times before, pushing him away.  Norman began to weaken.  He began to lose touch with his body again, and he could sense it moving, fighting once more.  Suddenly, his gaze slid over Harry, who stood down the street, gaping at the action unfolding in front of him.

He has his whole life ahead of him.  What do I have? I've died once. I have nothing left for me in this world. What will happen to Harry if the Goblin wins this?

Norman at once renewed the fight.  

I am Norman Osborn.  I am Norman Osborn.  

He began to push away his multiple personality.  Pain, horrible, hot, ripping pain rushed through his head.  Another scream tore from his lungs.

Stop fighting me, Osborn, and the pain will stop.

The Goblin's offer was extremely tempting.  Norman mentally gritted his teeth against the growing pain, still fighting.  Give me control, Osborn. Let me take care of this. The pain will stop, I promise.

Norman almost gave in.  He was about a half second away from giving up when he realized that this was what he always let happen. He always let the Goblin make him believe he was weak.  He's in pain, too, Norman realized. He could hear it in the Goblin's voice.  This hurts him as it does me. I am stronger. I will win.

He struggled to still his limbs.  The Goblin persona was sliding away, still fighting.  All at once, shocks of pain were running through him as his mind reconnected with his body, but these were minor compared to the pain of the internal battle, the battle for his sanity.  

Norman Osborn.  I am Norman Osborn.

You will never be just Norman Osborn again!

Then I will never be anything again.

Norman waited until Spiderman had beaten him into weakness before executing the final part of his plan.





Spiderman kicked the Goblin again, who had begun to sway on his feet.  The Goblin reeled and fell into the wall, seemingly no strength left.  His knees unhinged and he sank to the ground against the wall, still clutching his head with both hands.  Spiderman felt guilty for some reason.  He felt guilty fighting the Goblin, who appeared to be having mental issues on top of all his other ones.  Sometimes the villain would move as though to fight back, then stop.  He would try to punch, or block, but his movements were slow and awkward.  

And the words.  The strange growling, snarling words coming from him, sometimes in the derisive, raspy voice of the Green Goblin, sometimes in the voice of prominent business man, Norman Osborn.

Spiderman again began to attack when the Goblin raised his hands, imploring him to stop.  Spiderman complied, but remained in a ready stance.  His spider sense, which had been intense for the fight, slowed to a quiet buzz, barely there.

The Goblin slowly rose to his feet and turned, arming a bomb.  The hero tensed, preparing to fight, but it appeared he needn't be ready.

The Goblin tossed the bomb through the door of the building.  A few moments later, it exploded, fire immediately leaping to take much of the old building.  

He turned back to Spiderman, twitching, muscles shaking.

"I need to be killed."

Tell me about it, was Spiderman's first thought, but he said nothing.  He had no idea what was going on.

"I need to be killed for good."

"Then I'll kill you," Spiderman hissed at him.

A tremor shook the Goblin's body, and he pressed his hands back to his head.  "For good," he snarled.  "Can't be killed for –you can't kill –I won't—"

More shudders ran through him.

Spiderman began to wonder if something was seriously wrong here.  Had the Goblin really snapped?  Lost his twisted mind?

The Goblin calmed, and said in a much different voice, "Peter, you can't kill me. I'll come back again, even stronger.  It has to be…permanent."

He glanced toward Harry, who had been watching wide eyed from a short distance away.  "I…I…"

A spasm shot through his body, and he suddenly lunged at Spiderman, who barely moved out of the way in time.  "What is wrong with you?!" he screamed.

The Goblin turned toward him, started to lunge again, and stopped.  "The…G-g-g-gob – Goblin trying to get th-th-through – I can't control – "

The realization hit Spiderman with the force of a sledgehammer.  

Mr. Osborn had multiple personality disorder.

He's trying to control it. Oh my God, that's what it's been all this time.  The voice change…everything…

"Mr. Os—"

Osborn – the Goblin? -- forcibly shook his head, looking at Harry, who had drawn closer.  "I don't have much time," he said in a voice shifting between tones, switching between feelings.  Rage and pleading both spoke through the part raspy, part normal voice.  "I need to be killed permanently.  Something you c…c…couldn't heal from if you survived."

Peter's mind had boggled.  "Mr. Os –".  He stopped himself.  "How did this happen?"
"I…I can't explain it all.  Not even to myself.  I made a very stupid mistake – self experiment—"

He stopped and clutched his head, screeching in pain. Spiderman jerked away in surprise.  The sound died quickly and Osborn calmed, shaking slightly.  "No time," he whispered.  "This is the end for me, whether I live or die.  I can't deal with this mentally anymore. Make sure I don't…don't make it out of there…because if I do survive, it won't be me anymore, not mentally."

Peter's mind was blank for a moment.  Survive what?

Osborn's eyes were on the inferno raging in the building behind him, and  Peter suddenly understood.  He intended to kill himself…to sacrifice himself.  Conflicting feelings tore through Peter.  The feeling of sweet revenge.  Happiness.  Terrible grief.
Peter nodded slightly, overcome with emotion.  "I…I will," he said hoarsely.  "I'm so sorry that…that this happened to you…"

    Osborn nodded slightly.  "Peter, I…" he choked off.  The eye visors snapped up suddenly, and he looked out at Peter with tormented blue eyes, eyes that were a hundred years old with pain and misery. The thought hit Peter once more, as it had the night Osborn had died the first time.  There was a man under that mask.  This was not some fairy tale creature, not some movie villain. This was a desperate man, a man who had let himself be driven to the extreme of insanity.

"Peter, I am…I am so…s-sorry… for what I've done.  I don't have the words to explain how sorry I am…I meant what I said that night…I tried to stop it.  Couldn't."  He cut off again, and Peter could see the tears shimmering in his eyes.  "I pray…I pray that she'll be all right."

    Peter nodded in anguish, wanting to hate the creature in front of him, but knowing it was now just a mask, no longer a reflection of the soul.  He could not find hate in his heart.  Only deep sorrow.

Osborn stared down at his green clad body as though it were an alien creature.  Disgust and hatred flared in his eyes.  "I wish to God I could take this thing off right now," he whispered, tears still choking his voice. "But…" he trailed off, eyes on Harry.

Harry had slipped up to stand beside Spiderman, and he was listening, listening with an expression of disbelief and shock.  Perhaps recognizing the voice…perhaps normal shock from the night's events…

Harry's father slowly turned toward him. Their eyes locked for a moment, and nothing was said.  After a moment Norman spoke in a quiet voice, just as anguished as his eyes, "Harry, I…I knew your father.  He loved you more than you know…he was so sorry he never showed it like he wanted to.  He was always proud of you, even if…" He looked straight into Harry's eyes, eyes that were so much like his own, but younger. Eyes that didn't yet show the pain the world could inflict.  "Even if he lost sight of that somewhere."

    An expression passed over Harry's face.  Recognition.  Then, horrible grief.  He stared into his father's eyes, searching them.  "Thank you," he whispered.  "I loved him, too."

"Do not mourn forever.  Or hate forever.  Sell the company.  Move on with your life."
    Harry nodded, tears in his eyes.  "I will."

The Goblin – Mr. Osborn -- turned back to Spiderman.  "Remember," he said.  "I can't make it out. He'll….he'll try to fight me…I'll hold him back, but…just in case…"

    Spiderman nodded, filled with unutterable sorrow for what had happened to this man.
Osborn turned slowly and stood for a moment, looking down at the ground, stock still.
 He seemed unable to move, and Peter could see him visibly shaking.  Harry began to step forward, but Peter threw an arm out in front of him.  His spider sense had begun to rise again.  It was clear to him that this was the Goblin standing a few feet away from him, shuddering. He didn't know if he could fight him after speaking to Mr. Osborn.  His words had rung true, and Peter needed no spider sense to tell him the depths of this man's torment.  

Norman finally began to walk toward the building, sometimes staggering a little.
 Spiderman glanced at Harry, who was watching, eyes glittering, lips drawn back against his teeth in a suppressed cry.  Spiderman suddenly called out to the figure.

    "I…I never told him."

    Norman Osborn stopped and turned half way toward them.  "Thank you, Spiderman," he said in a voice barely audible above the noise of the fire.  "Thank you."

Enemy and son of the Goblin stood and watched as the flames embraced the silhouette.  Tears glided down Harry's face, and Spiderman felt his own, warm on his cheeks.  He prayed the fire wasn't a prelude to Norman Osborn's afterlife.  

They stood and watched until the building began to collapse and the fire sirens began to rise and wail their mournful tune in the night.  Then, arms around each other, the best friends turned and walked into the night, heading for home.