Part Three

"How was the party?" Ben asked as he entered the kitchen where Peter was getting a late night snack. He was still dressed in the clothes that he had gone to the party with but they appeared rather disheveled.

"Fine, I guess." Peter replied taking a bite out of a pretzel that had been in the fridge, "Ben, I need to ask you something."

Ben sat down in a seat beside Peter and snapped his fingers, "Shoot, kiddo."

Peter sighed, "What was my father like?"

"Your dad?"

Peter nodded, "Yes, what was he like? I never knew anything about him. It just wasn't something we talked about." He lowered his head, "I can't even remember what he looked like."

Ben grimaced and took a small piece from the pretzel that Peter was eating from, "Why now?"

It was Norman and the way that he treated Peter that made him think of his own father. "No reason. I'm just curious."

"Alright." Ben said and clasped his hands together, "Were to start?" He asked himself, "Your father was a good, hard-working man. He was into science, a little like yourself if I remember correctly." He rubbed his chin slowly in thought, "He loved your mother, deeply. Your father always was trying to tell you to do the right thing, even though you were just a little baby."

He smiled but then it quickly faded away from a new series of memories. "When they died and I found out that he had left you with me, I was shocked. I didn't know anything about raising a kid, nothing. Most of the time, raising you was trial and error." Ben raised the corner of his lip slightly, "I tried to raise you the way he would have. It was the least I could have done for your dad. He always wanted the best for you Peter, remember that."

Peter nodded, "I will." He sighed, "I wish I could have known him, I really do. He meant a lot to me." He frowned, "I wonder how my life would have turned out." He looked at the pretzel and slowly crushed it in his hands, "What pieces would have fallen into place and which ones would have been forgotten?" He got up and walked towards the stairs that led up to his room, "I'm going out tonight."

"Be careful." Ben knew what that meant, he knew his nephew well enough. "For God sakes, be careful."

Norman Osborn was feeling rather disappointed. Harry hadn't talked to one of the people at the party; he had made himself into some sort of wallflower. "Idiot." He complained angrily.

He had gotten out of his car and walked through the front gate of the steel mill. Over the weeks he had gotten to the smell of sulfur and now embraced it as a sort of release from the stale world outside.

Norman walked towards the center of the mill, slowly shedding off the business-like exterior for something much more primal. After opening up a locker that he had placed in the center on a pile of dirt like some sort of altar, he pulled out his purple garb.

"Glider: Has Spider-Man been located yet?" Norman inquired as he put the cap over his head.

"Affirmative." The on-board computer responded from the glider with no idea what that meant to its mad master. "Razor-bats have located and are tracking subject in grid nineteen."

Norman's yellow eyes glowed brightly, revealing the passion building in him. "Spectacular." He remarked grabbing his satchel and slinging it over his shoulder. "Have the razor-bats continue to relay his position to me until I intercept the subject."

He ascended the glider a changed man. Gone was the father and tycoon that had risen from nothing, in his place stood a mockery of man, a monster with no inhibitions and a lust for power, the Green Goblin. He powered up his glider and soared off into the night, cackling.

Peter landed on a rooftop of an apartment building in a run-down neighborhood, dressed as Spider-Man, and looked into the moon. "So, what now?"

The sounds of children playing and cars speeding could be heard all around him. The stray scream would occasionally draw his attention but moments later would be assured by happy faces that everything was fine.

"I've done so much for this city and haven't received one thing in return." Peter laughed, "Not even a talk-show offer." His levity was sweet, short as it was, "How much more can I do and still be treated like this?" He gazed down at the kids playing some superhero game, with Spider-Man as the villain.

He paced across the rooftop, the wind brushing gently against his costume, "Its just a question. If I had an answer, maybe I could accept it, but there's no reason for me to be hated and treated like some sort of criminal."

Peter snapped his fingers, "Not a single damned reason! There is only so much one crime-fighting teen in a costume will take before he decides to call it quits."

"I've made up for my mistake a dozen time over! I can leave any time I want, it's my decision and I haven't received one benefit for all of the pain that this job has cost me!" Peter raised his fist at the sky, "Go ahead, give me one reason to keep doing this lousy job, I dare you."

Peter's face widened in an instant, "Spider-sense!" He exclaimed, "Screaming, telling me there's danger." He gazed at his surroundings and saw that there was nothing, "Its not broken is it?" Peter tapped the side of his temple to which nothing happened. "My head is still ringing."

Without warning, the ground under Peter burst open. He crashed against the ledge just a few feet from the plume of smoke that came from the jagged hole on the rooftop. "What the hell?" Peter declared slowly standing back up. His heart skipped when like, some immortal demon, the Green Goblin emerged from the plume of smoke. "Goblin? Can't be you, you're dead!"

"Dead?" The monster cackled, "No. I am very much alive, Spider-freak! I think its time we renewed our acquaintance."