Author's notes: I would've liked it if Peter/Spidey visited the Osborns while Harry was in his coma. Since that didn't happen, that's where fanfics come into play. Enjoy!
Summary: [Post "Anti-Venom"] Spider-man tries to visit Harry after he fell into a coma. Said task is harder when you're on the end of Norman's wrath.
A Wistful Visit I
"It's lonely at the top." That axiom prevailed for one businessman in New York City. Norman Osborn, head of Oscorp, sat at his executive desk in a spacious room. His only company was the scratching of pen to paper, the clicks of a keyboard, and the endless humming of the life support machines.
Resuming his practice at the company was difficult. His mind kept returning to tragic events held earlier in the month. He had received the distress signal from Patrioteer. He never expected it to sound off so soon. He wasted no time placing on his armor. He didn't care if Harry had so much stubbed his metal toe. Iron Patriot rocketed his way towards the notification. He was more than surprised to find his son at the mercy from one of his enemy's experiments.
Enraged at the event, he stood up. His leather office chair scooted behind him. He wasn't alone in the room. On the other end, his son was still with him. The teen was lying within one of the machines. A screen monitored his vitals. Fresh oxygen was supplied regularly. His heart continued to pump. His lungs inhaled and exhaled in an uninterrupted cycle. His mind, however, remained within itself. Norman walked towards the equipment. He stopped.
He stared down at the clear tube. He spotted Harry lying motionless. His eyes were closed. He showed no signs of acknowledging who was with him. Relocating his child was his idea. Away from the Triskelion and back to Oscorp, an Osborn's home. Despite the changed location, drawbacks were abundant. He couldn't place an assuring hand on his shoulder or gently run his fingers through the auburn hair. The young heir was a prisoner. Yet removing him would cost him his life.
The last he had of any physical contact with his son was after allowing Patrioteer to enroll at the Academy. Two sets of armor were between them. He didn't see his boy until after the teen was consumed by Anti-Venom. He next saw Harry on life support.
He could never forget the satisfaction his enemy displayed. Harry chose to try his hand at hero work. But his lineage caused his downfall. Norman refused to allow his only family to be taken from him.
As he kept his view on Harry, he was no longer at Oscorp. He was standing in a hospital. He was looking down at an infant. He recalled the first time he ever brought his son home. He had his wife with him. Emily Osborn. They had planned so much for his future. The agenda of raising a child together was dashed after her death. He went on to look after their son. But through his grief, he developed a barrier between them. It took the weight of a giant green beast to demolish it permanently. At times he could still feel its uneasy presence, one that constantly surrounded him. He did what he could to make Oscorp on top. Often he wished he could have implemented those same resources, that same strength, towards his son.
"Harry…" he whispered. "I did what I could. If only there was something I could do for you now."
His train of thought became interrupted. He heard something entering. Turning around, he examined the ample room. He at first saw nothing. As he looked up, his enraged eyes spotted a blue and red costume. He gritted through his teeth, "You."
"Uh, salutations, Norman," Spider-man greeted. He had managed to slip through the ventilation shaft. His red gloves and boots clung to the high ceiling with ease. His ability contrasted his mood he tried to cloak. "Nice night for a cozy night in, wouldn't you say?"
"What do you want?" the older Osborn sharply asked. Taking a step forward, he straightened himself. He was an ice mountain with magma preparing to burst. He gave a cold response. His anger burned beneath him.
"I thought I'd give you an update on things," the web-head replied. He dropped down. His white eyeholes met with the scorn of the grown man. "There hasn't been much found for this Anti-Venom symbiote. On the other hand, Agent Venom is recovering well. That's a sign of hope. Let me help with—"
"I don't need your help!" Norman yelled. His infuriated voice clamored against every centimeter of the wide room. He was miffed with the relaxed stance the wall-crawler displayed. Meanwhile, he was in a position no parent ever wished for his child. Consumed with such pain, he shouted, "I am through with the fraudulent assistance from others! Not from S.H.I.E.L.D.! And not from you!"
Spider-man couldn't help but recoil from the castigating tone. The indictment against him was clear-cut. He had to stay strong. He tried to keep his own voice steady. "Norman, please! You must be realistic about this."
"Realistic?" Norman repeated, his behavior mocking the plea. "You know what has been realistic? How long my son has been in his condition. It's been three weeks since the mission! Three whole weeks!"
The length of time was made real. The hero on his scouting mission against HYDRA ended with his two teammates injured. The loss was major. One was making his way towards a full recovery. The other one remained in his unfortunate state.
"I get this has been tough on you," Spider-man softly replied. He tried to show genuine sympathy. "And it won't be easy. I haven't given up hope. But there's something we must keep in mind. When Harry does come back, we should be prepared for a possible return of Anti-Venom."
The name of the new symbiote made the man stop. To have seen his son wrapped in that white creature caused his blood to boil. The so-called benevolent S.H.I.E.L.D. did what they could for the fallen teen. No results were made. He openly displayed his doubt. "You really believe that creature still resides within my son?"
"I don't buy the idea it got extracted when you brought him over to the Triskelion."
Norman heard a fair argument. The second line, however, caught his focus. His eyes narrowed, like he caught a ploy. "Forget it! Harry's not returning to that Academy! Not after this little stunt!"
"It's the safer alternative. Oscorp is right in the city. You know countless people will be endanger if it reappeared."
"Harry is back at Oscorp. There's no place safer for an Osborn. If any other problem arises, I will handle it."
The web-head grew irritated. He ushered in reasoning towards the businessman. He shared the outrage that an innocent young man was injured. Yet his words and worry were pushed aside like they were fabricated. He retorted, "Sure, your little security can take down petty thieves and novice hackers. We're talking about a full-blown symbiote. Can't you see I'm trying to help?"
Norman saw the wall-crawler's changing attitude. He refuted the idea that the web-spinner was honest. "And who exactly are you looking to help, little hero?"
The man's insult didn't stop Spider-man. He steadily answered, "Your son."
The web-slinger's response drove him nuts.
"You really believe I will fall for that?" Norman roared. "No! Not this time!"
"This time?" the masked ruffian fought to get in a word. "Norman, slow down—"
"I won't be dupe! Enough with the deception! I know what you are!"
Spider-man froze. He feared if Norman had figured out his identity. He was more genuinely concerned for Harry's condition, as any friend would be. He prepared for the worst.
"You're nothing by a charlatan!" Norman declared. "You gave me your word that you would look after my son. You had promised that you would find a way to fix this. Now look at his condition!"
White slits reluctantly gazed towards the clear tube. He hadn't had a chance to see his comatose best friend since his stay at the Triskelion. The blue eyes remained closed.
"You only wish to save your own hide," Norman accused. "What other excuse would you have for coming over?"
"He was on his way to becoming a hero!" Spider-man defended. "He showed tremendous skill in that armor! I feel awful for what happened! I only wanted to see how he's doing!"
Norman disbelieved the web-head's guilt. "The same! Nothing's changed!"
He hit a painful realization. Day after day, night after night, his son lodged in the tube. Harry remained unaware of the world around him, how his father stayed by his side, to show his support and love. His actions seemed meaningless. His voice lowered. "Nothing's changed."
The somber atmosphere settled between the industrious and the teen hero. The world continued to turn, and his son was unable to enjoy it. There was no way of turning back time. Norman was unable to compensate for the mistakes he made in the past. He was powerless to extend his amends to be a better father. And such a broken promise hurt him. His eyes fell back on the red mask. They narrowed.
"I don't want to see your face ever again!" the man coldly ordered. "Now get out!"
He turned around. He resumed protecting his only child.
Spider-man delivered no words. He lowered his shoulders in defeat. His claims for the safety of the city and his own best friend were promptly dismissed. The sleeping teen was in a safe place. There was nothing more he could do.
Despondently, the wall-crawler webbed himself away from Oscorp.
Forest Hills was a quiet neighborhood. The homes were much more at peace compared to the apartments and businesses in the city. Some driveways carried a parked car while some lawns were decorated with scattered children's toys. The porch lights gently broke through the darkness. Moths fluttered around their brightness.
An elderly woman resided upstairs in her home. She had returned to her own place not too long ago. On her bed was a recently packed suitcase. As she wheeled her luggage towards the door, she stopped. She thought she heard something. "Peter?"
She headed downstairs. Someone was in the living room. Standing in the moonlight was a teen wearing a red and blue costume. He held his red mask in his hands. His blue eyes appeared crestfallen.
The woman could tell something was wrong. The problem didn't seem to stem from any crime fighting. It seemed personal.
"Peter?" she called again.
"I tried to go see Harry," the boy announced. His voice was breaking.
The aunt understood his anguish. Spider-man meant no harm in training new recruits. She could only imagine the joy he first underwent when the two close friends were nearly allies. She wrapped her arms around her nephew in a caring embrace.
Peter felt the love from his only family. He knew how fortunate he was to have her in his life. Enveloped in his own guilt and misery, he hugged her back.
"How is he?" she asked in a quiet voice. She was aware of the tragic fate the young auburn fell into. She pulled herself away so she could keep the eye contact.
"He's been moved to Oscorp," her nephew informed. His own hands moved down to her elbows. "I tried to go see him… as Spider-man…. But Mister Osborn wasn't too happy to see the mask."
His depressed eyes dived towards the floor. Citizens of the city were starting to warm up to the costume. Yet it was the same clothing that earned the scorn of one of New York's prominent businessmen. Somehow his hotheaded opinion mattered more.
May saw how distraught he was. He formed an unhealthy habit of carrying the heaviest of blame on his shoulders. He often chose to carry it alone. She placed her hands on those brave shoulders. "Mister Osborn does have his own troubles to bear when it may not seem like it. Even with his company and money and all his success… he's still a father whose son is in a tragic situation."
Peter reflected on his aunt's words. He was already familiar with how Norman and Harry were all the other had for family. He knew how often Harry had fallen into the hands of villains. He was always hurt whenever his best friend was in danger. But he realized the pain coming from a father. The anger was justifiable. Underneath the spring of anger was a well of anguish.
She watched him think. She believed in him, both the hero using his powers for good and the teen growing into a responsible young man. The tasks of champions were critical. But so were the days of carefree laughter. The one under the tights mattered just as much as the iconic outfit itself. Her nephew, after all, carried many great talents of his own.
"Spider-man has done all he could," May assured. "Maybe now the situation doesn't call for the mask. Maybe it's best for Peter to take charge now."
He pondered her advice. He had grown to know many terrific young heroes. Yet there have been others he included in his personal life, and others who have included him in their lives. He handled what he could to support those he cared about. He did meet the Osborns as Peter.
"You should go on that trip," Peter smiled, giving his own encouragement. "You and Mary Jane's aunt Anna have been planning on seeing those pyramids for months. Enjoy that trip."
The woman turned relief seeing her nephew relax. Her eyes watched as he faced the exit. She knew he had to be strong. "Are you heading out?"
"Yes. I think it's Peter's turn to do something."
He hugged his only family once more.
The lights of Oscorp glowed like a beacon. A scrawny teen was walking towards the towering building. Despite the immense weight on his young shoulders, he brazenly carried on. He knew what and who he was about to face. He had to remain emotionally strong.
((Norman said he didn't want to see Spider-man's face. Right now, I'm just Peter Parker. Completely different face.))
He had seen Oscorp as he swung around the city. Now he was stepping foot inside the building from the main entrance. He took the elevator towards the penthouse. Unlike Spider-man who could enter at his own leisure, Peter had to avoid any suspicious activity. Taking his phone, he dialed his best friend's number. He became spooked when the doors opened.
"Peter?" Norman questioned. "I wasn't expecting your presence this late."
The young guest paused. The owner of the penthouse seemed truly surprised. Lucky for the teen hero, the older Osborn had yet to show any signs of remembering Peter as Spider-man. Peter spotted in one of the man's hands was his son's device.
"I hadn't heard from Harry in awhile," he innocently answered. "He, uh, texted me that he was going out in that Patrioteer armor you made. I wanted to see if he was up for our movie night."
The older Osborn's face fell. Peter expected that. The ball of guilt began to grow in his stomach.
"I'm afraid Harry won't be available for any playtime," Norman reluctantly answered. "He's been… in an accident."
The brunet struggled to mask his own pained reaction. "An accident?"
Norman didn't invited his guest inside the penthouse. Instead, he had the brunet follow him back to the elevator. Peter kept his observant eyes on him while they entered.
As the shaft descended, the businessman began, "I know you're familiar of my trials to make up for what I've done. You already are aware of my time as Iron Patriot. Harry…"
The lights on the elevator marker flashed as they lowered. Norman deeply took in air before releasing it. "…He sought to keep his Patrioteer armor. I was proud of him for taking on Octavious when he and his crony invaded our home. I expected bumps and bruises as he gained his footing. But I never thought…"
A bell pinged. The doors opened. The man continued to lead.
Peter recognized the floor they were on. He understood where the older Osborn was taking him. This would be the first time his worn-down sneakers touched the carpet instead of his sturdy boots. He pretended to accept the guidance. "Where are we?"
"Where I'm keeping Harry safe," Norman answered. "I hadn't permitted anyone else to stop by. I'm only giving his good friends a pass."
"Yeah, OK," Peter replied. Before he had time to see who was on that list, he stopped when Norman did. His blue eyes gazed on the front of a machine. Faint yellow and green lights beamed over his own face. He already discerned what he was looking at. But the terrible sight still caught his voice in his throat.
Norman mistook the silence as confusion. He motioned for his guest to move towards the other side. "I never thought Harry would be pulled so quickly onto the battlefield."
Peter followed. He stepped up to the clear tube. He saw the results of the account his best bud's father was sharing with him. Not by his mask but by his own eyes he saw Harry Osborn lying inside. There was no greeting exchanged between two best friends. Not even a smile. He bit his lip.
"He's been like this for three weeks," Norman painfully disclosed. "Nothing's change."
For Spider-man or Peter Parker, neither one had all the answers. The brunet had his disguise to complete.
"Any word from S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he asked. "Or Spider-man?"
His blue eyes finally pulled themselves away from the tube. He watched as the anger rose within the older Osborn. The man clenched his fists.
"This is all his fault." Norman gritted. "Spider-man encouraged Harry to wear the Patrioteer armor after I first denied it. He sided with him to enroll at that S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy. He led him to Octavious and that HYDRA port. That's where Harry had his accident. Spider-man was the one who took my son away from me!"
Peter stared in disbelief. He replayed the fateful day in his head. His shoulders grew weighty. All the events Norman listed off were true. He was the first domino to set everything in motion. His best friend was in a coma because of him. He was standing next to a father who was torn away from his only family. There was nothing he had contributed to change it. The heavy damn burst. He shut his eyes and blurted out, "I'm sorry!"
Norman looked to the brunet. His anger began to subside. "There's nothing for you to apologize for. You've always been a good friend to my son."
He had been absent for a time in Harry's life. He did notice a difference in mindset when his child began associating with the brainy brunet. He only wished they could continue that healthy bond.
Peter watched the older Osborn. He spotted the man's grief and devastation. As Spider-man, he did what he could, like talking to S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists about Patrioteer's condition. As Peter, he wanted Harry to be with those he cared about. Both identities chose to maintain hope. An idea sprung on him. "Have you tried talking with Harry?"
Norman looked at the brunet once more.
"You might have a way of reaching him," Peter advocated. "You're his dad. He's gotta know that you're with him."
The man pondered the idea. He did aspire to sustain the new relationship he and his son were building. The positive rapport was a sign of good change. He knew of one thing that could help. "Peter, would you mind staying for just a minute? I need to grab a photo album."
"No problem," Peter replied. He turned surprised how quickly Norman was looking to connect with Harry.
He heard the footsteps as they made their exit. The doors closed. He realized he was alone. Spider-man never had the opportunity to be with his best friend by himself past the accident. Peter Parker now was. His eyes landed back on the comatose teen. He placed his palm on the tube. Norman held on to his determination. He did believe the Osborn spirit resided in his best friend as well. He had to keep his own strength.
"Don't worry, Harr. You won't be in this coma forever. I promise."
End A Wistful Visit I
