Author's notes: Inspiration drawn from Spider-Man: Revenge of The Green Goblin vol. 1 #1-3, 2000 and War Machine vol. 2 #9, 2009 that I saw off a Norman Osborn/Green Goblin fansite. Enjoy!

Summary: [Post series] A war ensues between Norman/Iron Patriot and Doc Ock. Sometimes the voices of the past can haunt us. Other times they give us strength. One shot. [Gift fic for Tumblrgirl4059]

To Fight with Love

"You won't win, Octavious!" Iron Patriot shouted. "You may have destroyed Oscorp, but you won't destroy the Osborn spirit!"

"Spirit?" Doc Ock chuckled. "More like curse!"

The two intelligent men were battling each other in the city. Though the clear skies with a bright sun offered a gorgeous day, war tainted it. A path to revenge was chosen. The mad scientist managed to free himself from his new imprisonment. He wasn't done phasing out his most loathsome enemy.

Norman Osborn, underneath the guise of Iron Patriot, seethed at the other man. Otto Octavious was responsible for great evil. The wicked scientist had made him a Goblin. He threatened to make his son one, too. He had attacked him in his own home. He had destroyed Oscorp's headquarters. He trapped his son, along with many other superheroes, in a shrinking dome. The mere mention of the evil man boiled his blood. So a full sight of him caused Norman to explode.

One had a suit of armor while the other flared his tentacles. One used his boosters, and the other used his mechanical limbs. One was seeking to restrain a villain, and the other sought revenge, possible murder. Iron Patriot's repulsors kept himself in the air. Ock remained on the ground. His mechanical appendages lifted him. He could also use them against sturdy walls to hike himself against buildings. The dark shades reflected the silver mask.

Iron Patriot refused to allow his enemy to roam freely. Taking charge, he rocketed himself from his spot and aimed for his nemesis. He flawlessly dodged cars that were thrown at him. "I've never expected others to hold themselves to my standards. I guess if I want a job done right I must do it myself."

His plan was to battle against the mad scientist so Doc Ock would be powerless to harm the public and his family. Closing the path between himself and his enemy, his road was cut short by two octo-bots. He stopped himself before he could crash into them. "What? How did you get more of these, Octavious? You were supposed to be under constant supervision! There's no way you could've constructed new ones!"

Despite his stunned reaction, he managed to weave himself away from their massive tentacles. They pursued him, tailing his every direction. He bore trouble dropping them.

Doc Ock had spent his time in captivity calculating. He enjoyed watching his foe squirm. He grinned. "My dear Norman, you should be one to know the value of preservation. These have been in storage. Waiting to be resurrected for their purpose—assisting me in eliminating you!"

The two octo-bots rushed towards Iron Patriot. The man in the suit prepared himself. He needed to resolve how to battle three enemies at once—two machines and the one who built them. He blasted at the metal pair, causing them to split. He was then set to shoot once more when a tentacle trapped his free arm. His vision turned to his captured hand. The alarms in his suit notified him another robot was coming his way. Though he was accustomed to pressure, his heart beat in his chest. His thinking became interrupted as a web covered both eyes of the machines. The octo-bots stopped as they lost their visuals.

"Spider-man!" Iron Patriot called, his hand released. He faced in the direction the web originated. He spotted the red costume and the teen perching himself on a vacant flagpole. He grunted, "I can handle myself. There was no need for you to get involved."

"Hey, I was just giving an extra hand," the wall-crawler replied. He already expected to receive a growl from the proud industrialist. "Who knows where those tentacles have been? You can never be too careful."

"Yeah, talk about a germ alert," came another voice. Another teen dressed in a different suit of armor arrived. He kept himself near the web-head. "I doubt even an industrial-sized soap bottle could get them cleaned. At least Iron Patriot has Patrioteer and Spider-man to help take down this creep."

"Why do I get bottom billing?"

The gray mask noted the other suit of armor. The yellow eyes in the silver mask met with the yellow visor held in the blue helmet. Accepting he needed to set an example, he turned to the web-spinner. "Yes, I understand the benefits of teamwork. Thank you, Spider-man."

"Aw, shucks, Norman. You got me turning the same color as my mask."

Doc Ock became sour. The desire to eradicate his hated foe allowed him to break free from his captivity. His intention had been interrupted by his reoccurring adversary. His past schemes have yet to slow down the web-head. He grimaced. "Spider-man."

"Up to your same, dirty tricks, eh, Ock?"

"Up to your usual shenanigans, as I see it, Spider-man? Teaming up with Norman Osborn as he plays Iron Patriot? You're a fool. He's no better at being a good guy than I." Enraged, Doc Ock tossed another car towards the web-slinger.

Spider-man shot his web to prevent any damage towards him. "You know, attempted good deeds is more favorable than attempted murder. I could list off the differences between you and Norman no problem. Easy peasy. Too bad I only have ten fingers."

Patrioteer added, "You can always use your toes, Spidey. You got another ten of 'em right there."

"True. Though, it's tough feeling each individual digit beneath my boots. Don't wanna miscount and end up with eleven."

Iron Patriot was prepared to return to the fight. He placed himself ahead of the two adolescent heroes. To one side was his son. To his other side was his son's best friend. All three had experience in fighting the man with the added mechanical limbs. Iron Patriot boasted, "You might as as well surrender now, Octavious. You're out numbered."

Doc Ock was a man of logic and numbers. He squeezed a fist. "Then you should know that some qualities are stronger over quantities. A las, that nettlesome wall-crawler is the bane of my existence. Another roadblock in my otherwise perfect plan."

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe you bring about your own curse?" Spider-man proposed. "I don't know much about manifesting dreams and goals. But everything you claim to have brought you down is more of your own doing."

Doc Ock glared at the aggravating web-slinger. He recalled how the teen hero foiled his ultimate deposition against S.H.I.E.L.D. All his schemes had been thwarted by that same nuisance. "Spider-man… Although you have learned of all the sins Norman Osborn had committed, I'll never fully grasp why you battled alongside him."

"Of course Norman has his own bad deeds," the masked ruffian agreed. "At least he's using his big brains for good. Is the concept of committing to do good that much of a foreign concept to you, Ock?"

The man growled at the mockery of his intellect. He shouted back, "Wasting time committing to useless, repetitive work… You need something to enact your Boy Scout persona? Fine!"

He rushed himself to the nearest light pole. He placed his hand on it. Utilizing his nano-tech, he transformed the metal into a sharper pole. His mechanical limb grabbed it and thrust it towards the heroes.

The trio managed to move away. Unfortunately, the spear punctured a weakened billboard atop a building. Perhaps that was what the evil scientist was truly aiming for. The billboard broke. The enormous advertising sign was falling. Innocent civilians stood right in the middle of its downfall path. They screeched, fearing they won't be able to move in time.

Spider-man and Patrioteer went to action. The one in the metal suit placed himself underneath the billboard. He used his hands to hold the lengthy board while his boosters pushed against it. The one in the red and blue threads placed himself against a wall. He shot his webs. Those landed against the corner of the board. Spider-man used his strength to pull. The people below them were safe. They still raced away as fast as their legs could carry them.

Iron Patriot watched their act in awe. They rushed to the scene with no hesitation. He knew the web-slinger would always perform his job, to follow his responsibility. Spider-man was the perfect tutor for Patrioteer. He felt proud of his son for his gallantry.

Doc Ock needed only to distract the web-slinger and his cohort. He returned his focus to Iron Patriot. He observed the man's happiness. He scoffed, "I'm surprised you conceded to all this, Norman."

"Conceded to what?" Iron Patriot questioned. He turned back to the man wearing the shades.

"For your son to take orders from those below the Osborn family."

The man in the armor understood his nemesis' intention. He barked back, "Harry is becoming something you would fail to be: A hero. He is learning from the best. Not only from Spider-man. But myself included."

"Then be a good sport and show him how to lose gracefully!"

Iron Patriot's alarm activated once again. An octo-bot was dashing towards him. The machine used the bulk of its body and smashed into him. He was hit. Hard.

"Dad!" a voice screamed. The teen had witnessed the horrible event. He was too far away to intervene.

Iron Patriot fell downwards. His repulsors failed to respond. His backside slammed into the street. A crater was formed. The metal scraped. The metal mask remained over his face. The yellow eyeholes darkened. His body stayed in place.

"Dad? Dad!"

The man's vision went black.

"How do you like my new dress?" a woman asked.

The man who was the target of the question sat at his executive desk in his leather chair. Norman heard the feminine voice. He ceased his mounting paperwork. He looked up. Across the room he saw his wife. She was wearing a short sleeved green maternity dress. He could see the outfit accentuated her figure. Particularly her mid-section. He smiled, "You look lovely."

The woman smiled back. She enjoyed making her husband happy. Though the outfit was an essential for any pregnant woman, she purchased something more stylish. Her only compromise was her feet. She wore black flats instead of heels. Even a half an inch wedge would be too much for her swollen soles.

Norman could feel her beckoning him. He stood up and moved himself from his desk covered in papers. Like any husband he was overjoyed. Enthusiastically, he grabbed his wife from her backside and thrust her near him. They were unable to be as close as they once were. The woman's increased frontside prevented that. Not that they minded.

Together, they had lay the groundwork for a nursery. They bought the proper toys, clothing, books, and furniture— a rocking chair and a crib. They had gone to numerous doctor appointments. A fully packed suitcase was near the door. The couple was excited anticipating their first-born. They had to be prepared to make that mad dash to the hospital at any given moment. The expecting of a newborn, however, doesn't prevent other plans already in process.

"How goes the investments?" she asked.

Running Oscorp was more than a dream. Norman viewed it as his right. He imagined how lucky he was to have a caring woman by his side. He was glad to be on the prosperous path for Oscorp, for it meant he could pass the family's empire down to his son.

"I've come across a few names," he answered. He released her from his grip and faced his desk. His expression hardened. "I've already reached out. Some are hesitant in placing money for a newcomer. They want something familiar."

Emily saw the fervor on her husband's face fade. She knew why he became distraught. "But Oscorp has been around since your great-grandfather. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"I know. And what happened to Oscorp…" Norman paused a moment. He thought about his own father. Anger began to course through him. He couldn't allow his temper to take control of him. "It makes other investors reluctant. They want a successful name."

He knew of his limited options. In order to revive his company, he had to make choices. And quickly. He sighed, "Perhaps my only resource left is my old college professor."

"Stromm?" she questioned. She was clearly skeptical herself. "You want to get Mendel Stromm involved?"

Norman heard his wife's disapproval. The woman always acted cordially to the expert. It was only after brief meetings that he learned about her true opinion on the brilliaint man. Standing by his point, he explained, "I've observed him as much as he graded me. He's the only man I know who will work on the same level as me. His employer Empire State University will capture the attention of future investors."

The woman placed her fingers protectively over her enlarged front. She accepted whenever her husband made his mind. His passion attracted her. As his wife, she only wanted to look out for him. "You've been working hard, Norman. I just don't want to see your dreams quelled from trusting unworthy hands."

The man was touched. His wife cared about him. But Oscorp was his company. Dare he say it, his other baby. He replied, "I'm a businessman, Emily. In business, you must take risks. Risks can be profitable, powerful. If there's one lesson I've come to grip with is that with great power can come great reward."

He didn't hear a response. Concerned, he turned to her. He could see she was exhausted. Her hand was set over her forehead. Shopping and engaging in a high-pressure conversation drained her. He rushed over and helped her sit down. A tufted armchair was around his desk. Over time Norman had grown accustomed to Emily's morning sickness. Now wasn't a time for arguments. He knew it was best not to upset her. He only wanted what would be best to start off Oscorp once more.

"What you said," she began as her motion sickness vanished. "Those are words to meditate on. You are a scientist and a businessman. You're about to be a father."

She looked up at him, gazing into his own blue eyes. She smiled, "You're always talking to me. How about sharing some words to your baby?"

Norman grew stunned. He stumbled for a retort. "I'm having these conversations with you because I only want to make sure you know that I love you, too. Too often men think only about their baby and forget about their wives."

"There's no need to worry over me. We'll have plenty to talk about for years to come."

"Yes, we will," Norman nodded. "It's true I haven't said much. I know how important the bonding phase is between mother and child. Our child won't be familiar with me yet."

He turned around. "It's a scientific fact that babies recognize their mother's voices first."

The woman heard his reasoning. She smiled at her husband. She was already familiar with his fascination on anything science-related. He spent his years studying that discipline. He applied everything he learned to re-building his company. He was a prideful man. She was also aware of his troubled relationship with his own father. Amborse Osborn.

"Norman," she tenderly called, "our little boy's ears are already developed. He'll be coming any day now. I'm sure he's as eager to hear from his father as he is from his mother. Just say something to him."

The man relented. He could never deny his wife any request. He walked over to where she was sitting. His blue eyes first met hers. He could see her happiness, her unbridled joy towards him and their awaiting son. She waited for him to converse. His eyes traveled down. He took in the green fabric. The particular hue was selected with reason. It was his favorite color. He then stopped at the bump.

For once, the words were caught in his throat. He was one to be able to speak freely, demanding his employees do as they were told, cursing out any competitor. This had nothing to do with work. It had everything to do with a growing family. He knelt himself down. He could've sworn he felt a light kick.

"Hello, Harry," he softly greeted. "There's so much in this world for you to see. I can't wait for you to come."

"Dad!" a voice shouted, overwhelmed with anxiety.

Norman heard it. The voice rang in his ears, pulling his disassociating mind together. Iron Patriot went back online. He opened his eyes. His vision could see the Patrioteer armor. The yellow mask in the blue helmet had been lifted. He now spotted the same blue eyes he lovingly gazed into at the hospital all those years ago.

"Harry," he smiled. He recalled the moment he was first able to hold his newborn son. The hospital room was overrun with an infant's crying. But the room was also overflowing with love from the newly made parents. Keeping his newly born son close to his heart, it was the first time he felt the weight of his son on him. He would always remembered what they overcame to become a family.

Patrioteer grew relieved seeing his father awake and responsive. Their fight against Ock was still ongoing. They needed to return to the battlefield. He offered one hand. The teen under the suit had grown. He had been taken over by symbiotes. He was once threatened to be the next Goblin. Keeping his courage, he was now training to be a hero. Much like his old man.

Just as the father was about to take his son's hand, Patrioteer was ripped away. Norman gasped. A mechanical tentacle had snatched the boy.

"Dad!" Patrioteer cried.

"Harry!" Norman yelled. Alarmed, he activated his boosters. He removed himself from his crater. Lifting himself into the air, he spotted what kidnapped his son. The teen was trapped by one of his enemy's tentacles. He felt his heart almost stopping. He had already lost his wife. He couldn't lose his son. He roared, "Let him go, Octavious! Your fight is with me!"

"Of course it is," Doc Ock agreed. He tightly held the wriggling Patrioteer in front of him. Not even the teen's boosters could liberate him. The wicked scientist placed the adolescent between himself and Iron Patriot. He smirked, "Which is why I'm ensuring my victory by taking your son as my hostage—"

One of the octo-bots smashed into the prattling villain.

"You haven't forgotten little ol' me, have you, Ock?" Spider-man asked. He had gained hold of an octo-bot and used it to his advantage. He was well aware of the feud between Osborn and Octavious. He refused to stand by as his adversary sought to hurt the public and his best friend. He was ready to take action.

Iron Patriot saw Doc Ock's hold loosened. He at once rocketed himself towards Patioteer. He held on to his son's hand. The teen leaned against his father and sought to push away his dizziness. Once he was cleared, Harry looked at Norman. The two smiled.

"You pest!" the mad scientist yelled after his recovery. "I'll squash you like the insect you are!"

Spider-man replied, "I hope you're using that term in the way to belittle me and not categorizing an arachnid for an insect. As a scientist, you should know better. Even if that field is best suited for entomologists."

The father and son duo braced themselves once more to enter their continuing war. They were joined by Spider-man, who hopped back to them. Iron Patriot took the lead in front. He had witnessed all the good Patrioteer and Spider-man had accomplished. The wall-crawler endured many triumphs and failures as he trained under S.H.I.E.L.D. He genuinely cared about protecting the city and its citizens. He tutored Patrioteer to do the same. The two friends could now join the same side to defeat evil. No secrets kept.

Norman Osborn, now a superhero, teamed up with his son's best friend to take down their enemy.

End To Fight with Love

Emily Osborn-Lyman, for initial appearance in a photo, see Spectacular Spider-Man #180, 1991 ("The Child Within: Part 3 of 6"). For full appearance, see Spider-Man: Revenge of the Green Goblin #1, 2000. For her possible return as Emma, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #789, 2018.

Mendel Stromm/Gaunt/Robot Master, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #37, 1966. As Gaunt, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #411, 1996. As Robot Master, see Civil War II: Amazing Spider-Man #3, 2016. For appearance of death, see Amazing Spider-Man Vol. 5 #5, 2018.

Empire State University, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #1, 1963.

Alton Osborn, see Spider-Man: Revenge of The Green Goblin #2, 2000.

Amberson "Ambrose" Osborn, see The Spectacular Spider-Man Annual #14, 1994.