Author's notes: Obvious inspiration came from reading about Peter/Spidey, Norman, and Harry/Kindred in the Amazing comics. So here's a story where Spidey goes against Norman/Iron Patriot, who's looking to stop Spidey for the sake of Harry. Because, you know, angst, and drama, and all that fun stuff. Enjoy!
Summary: It's Spider-man vs. Iron Patriot! Spider-man searches to stop a rampaging Hobgoblin intending to destroy the city. His impasse comes out of Iron Patriot. However, the obstacle seems to be less from the villain-turned-hero and more out of the man wearing the armor.
Contending a Hobgoblin on a Friday Night
Norman: "I know what [Harry] wants-And I know he'll destroy himself trying to make it happen. And all I want to do is go to him—tell him this is my fault, tell him to stop all this and come home. But he hates me so much. And I deserve that hate. I would surrender to it if I could. I would—if killing me would stave off this anger inside of him, that's devouring him. I would give my life to that possibility in a second. But I know even my death couldn't save him. That's how useless I am. Hh. Norman Osborn. Titan. No good to his own family in death or life. I just want to hold him again. I just want my little boy... But he's so far gone now. It's too late… It's too late..."
(The Amazing Spider-Man vol. 5 #50 .LR, 2020)
The night was young. Only little spots of the black sky could be seen between the towering buildings. Street posts and neon signs lit the congested paths. The city was lively with the crowds shouting and the cars honking. After a stressful work week, many people were searching to unwind—restaurants and night clubs were popular choices. But not everyone had the chance to relax. Others had crucial jobs to perform.
A web snatched to a streetlight. What held the other end of the vine was a red glove with a webbed-theme. A pair of matching red boots swung above the New York people. Hardly an eye caught the swinging feet, for their faces were absorbed by lights cast through their phones.
"Hello?" the famous wall-crawler greeted as he swung through the air. "Awesome superhero flying by! Doesn't anyone wanna get a snapshot of me?"
He landed high above a wall. The denizens of the statuesque metropolis below him followed on their route without any hesitation. He huffed. "I haven't seen this many people glued to their phones since Midtown High had that assembly covering personal hygiene. What exactly is trending so hard that's keeping people from noticing me, their Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man?"
Feeling stiff, he rotated his neck to stretch his muscles. The light tugging brought relief. "I hope someone didn't turn a creature wrecking havoc around the city into a snapshot game. It's not all peaches and creme with my workforce. Hunting down this monster is totally wrecking my Friday night. Sure, I'm not out partying with rowdy classmates and rocking out to deafening music. And, sure, this proverbial high school party isn't near a sewer opening covered in graffiti. I was planning on finish reading this study about spiders building their webs in space I've had my nose in. You never know when that info might come in handy for me—"
"SOMETHING VILE HAS BEEN ATTACKING NEW YORK CITY!" a voice angrily interrupted.
The masked ruffian, though he should be prepared, became startled. He turned and saw a large screen. He grumbled, "Of course. Jameson. This couldn't have made a more perfect night."
"IF THIS MONSTER WRECKS ANY OF THE GOOD PEOPLE OF NEW YORK'S FRIDAY NIGHT," the journalist continued to screech. "THEY CAN THANK SPIDER-MAN! I STRONGLY BELIEVE HE HAS SOME SORT OF CONNECTION TO THIS BEAST! HE STARTED IT, HE SHOULD BE THE ONE TO FINISH IT!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it, already!" Spider-man griped. "It's not like movies. It's not so easy when this creature doesn't have a tracking device on it. Where exactly does one start this game of Hide and Seek?"
He heard screams. They weren't the maniacal cackles from a psychotic villain. They were outcries from the everyday citizens. He looked below. He saw hordes of people fleeing. They wore a complete look of terror. Their eyes were widen enough to see the white. Their eyebrows were as high as mountains. Their mouths hung open as they yelled in panic.
"Ah, a shrieking mob," Spider-man remarked. "Just as good as any place to check out for bad guy mischief."
He brought himself down. As his red boots landed on the gray sidewalk, the crowds of people split around him. Some bumped into his sides and shoulders as they dashed. His great strength kept him immobile. No one gave him a second glance. They were all looking to speed away from the obscure danger.
Spider-man focused on the origin of the rushing flow. He noticed an alleyway. The darkened spots were notorious for muggings, selling bootleg items, and playing shell-games. Unless the no good doer was wielding a knife, the web-head doubted the bolting crowds feared another regular human being.
Focusing on the alley, he shot his webs. His red gloves and boots stuck to the faded brick walls. He crawled inside. The other end couldn't be seen. The problem was a lack of light. But the web-spinner was glad to have taken the walls, for the ground was lined with black garbage bags. He had yet to see anything. As he came across a clear surface, he dropped.
His spider-sense came alive. He felt someone watching him. While his white slits gazed around, he failed to see the burning red eyes hiding in the shadows. As the hero kept himself on his toes, he heard something. He shifted himself. He spotted a metal trashcan impelling his way.
"Heads up!" he yelled. He ducked. The bin flew overhead. Half-emptied soda cans, crushed fliers, and greasy hamburger wrappers toppled over him. He turned disgusted. "OK, who's the litterbug?!"
His ears picked up a terrifying roar, one that was possibly responsible for the fleeing crowd. He knew no lions or bears had escaped from a touring circus. He fathomed he was close to whatever it was he was tracking. Because something threw that trash can at him, he was already discovered. He was prepared to fight.
"If I gotta work on a Friday night," the hero began, "then I choose the game! Come out and play!"
He heard stomping. He turned and spotted the overturned trash bin behind him. Shooting his webs, they attached to the side. He heaved the heavy can towards the origin of the rustle.
"But before we begin, don't go littering the city!" he shouted to the darkness. "At least have the decency to clean up after yourself!"
The can only crashed into a Dumpster. Spider-man tried to listen. He heard something climbing upwards on the walls. Sharp claws stuck themselves into the grainy building material. Red eyes glued themselves to the teen below. Something soon released itself from its grip. It began its pounce.
Spider-man would've been crushed if not for his spider-sense. He turned upward. He vaulted from his spot, barely missing whatever aimed to crunch him like a vehicle at an impound lot.
"Whew!" he breathed. "A second more and I would've ended up like mashed potatoes on a Thanksgiving meal!"
He looked over and inspected what landed in front of him.
"What the?" The hero stared in awe.
A strange creature stood on the other end from him. He was the same height as him. And perhaps he was just as bulky. He wore a pair of raggedy slacks. Near his calves the edges were cut like ribbons. No shoes covered his large feet. No shirt covered his bare chest and meaty arms. He openly bore his sharp teeth. The yellow skin coming into his white slits sickened him. What stared back at him were a pair of red eyes.
"Looks like I got a case of deja vu!" Spider-man remarked. "Didn't I fight something like this already? We haven't met before, have we?"
The beast roared. He charged at him. His hefty feet pounded into the ground. Minor chunks of gravel ripped off from his claws as he let up.
"Woah!" the web-head gasped. He was taken aback by his immense speed. He managed to lean to one side, avoiding the collision. "It was just a question! Do you know how many purse snatchers and carjackers I confront on a daily basis? I can't keep track of every mutated freak I face!"
The yellow monster, after missing his target, skidded. He turned around. He raised his claws towards the one invading his vicinity. As Spider-man flipped and skirted the rapidly slashing hands, he tried to study more of the creature's customary appearances. His yellow flesh carried the same bumps as someone else he faced. An absence of hair exposed the top of his head. His muscles were created in part of some unnatural source. His red eyes were narrow and fierce. Perhaps what was the most familiar character trait was his pointy ears.
"The Goblin?!" Spider-man gasped. "Wait! Time out!"
His hands attempted to make the T symbol before pushing himself away from the constrained onslaught. He then shot his webs towards his enemy's massive feet. The white fluid would give the web-spinner a moment to ponder; his foe was caught and focused on freeing himself. The web-slinger hopped and glued his backside to the wall.
((If memory serves, I fought in those unwelcoming battles between myself and my best friend's dad. You remember those, too, right? Fortunately, Norman was able to be saved. However, those nasty monsters had returned with Doc Ock and HYDRA at the helm. Those bozos were eventually defeated. I can't understand how this Goblin copycat had returned. And how did it change so drastically? Better play detective and asks some questions.))
Peeling himself off, he landed back to the cramped ground.
"OK, talk," the masked ruffian ordered. "Don't think I'll go easy on a newcomer. It was tough enough facing the first Goblin and knowing all the harm he had brought to me, my original team, and my best friend. How'd you get in contact with The Goblin juice? You join a twisted fan club's mailing list or something?"
The creature ceased his tearing. Facing his opponent, he growled. It was the web-head who ensnared him. He ripped through the last layer that kept him stationed. He managed to liberate himself. He began charging once more.
The wall-crawler was prepared to face this adversary. He sprung. "But you're not really a Goblin. Not even a junior since you're yellow. You're a shorter, more compact version of him. You're a—what'cha call it—a Hobgoblin!"
The creature showed no signs of grasping its bequeathed name. He failed to appreciate the comparison or the insult. He only wished to follow his instinct, which was to destroy. Swatting and batting his hands, he was unsuccessful in landing a single blow against the web-slinger. Hobgoblin was quick, but he played little strategy.
The battleground was tight. Staging a war in an alleyway was foolish. Spider-man had experience taking down the average human thugs. But fighting against a super-powered Goblin proved to be difficult in a confined space. He had no way of knowing if innocent people were on the other side of the tight walls.
"This platform ain't my style. How's about we change scenery?"
To gain an advantage, he bashed himself into the beast. Hobgoblin flew out of the enclosed space. Spider-man shot his webs on a streetlight. He hoisted himself out towards the cleared street. His eyes searched for where the beast had landed. His investigation was interrupted when his spider-sense activated. He barely had time to look around before a repulsor blast snapped his web. His weight became disproportion. His sense of balance was thrown off. Painfully rotating on the sidewalk, he didn't expect a long-range attack from a close-range Goblin.
"What the heck was that?" he groaned as he rolled himself back up. Rubbing his injuries, he eyed a suit of armor. He spotted a white star on a broad chest. "Iron Patriot?"
The attack was clearly set against him. It seemed unreasonable. He grew confused. "What gives?!"
"I won't allow you to take him down!" Iron Patriot commanded.
Spider-man questioned the decree. He knew the one under the patriotic armor could be difficult to work with. It was odd the mandate was set against him. He armed himself. He became fascinated with the revealed motive. "Who?"
"My son," the man replied. He kept himself in the air to give himself a height advantage.
"Your son? I thought you only had one child."
"I am referring to Harry. He's missing."
"What do you mean he's missing?"
"I haven't seen him since the other night. He hasn't answered his phone."
"You mean to tell me you interrupted my mission because you…" Spider-man shook his head. He couldn't be brought in to deal with a parent who couldn't trust his child. "I don't have time for these conspiracy theories. I gotta find where this Hobgoblin went."
He stared across the street. The creature he was seeking had been bashed against an abandoned car. Spider-man couldn't imagine the horrid beast was actually his best friend. He already had encountered a strenuous time facing him when Harry was Venom and later Anti-Venom.
Hobgoblin rubbed his achy head. He had yet to face anything as tough as this weirdly dressed teen. Typically anyone he came across fled. He slowly opened his red eyes. He then noticed a new opponent had entered the battlefield. Softly growling, he lifted himself up. He left an imprint on the vehicle.
"Quite a dent," Spider-man mumbled. "I sure hope the driver had super villain insurance."
Iron Patriot studied the new Goblin. The red eyes were now set against him. He briefly recalled spats he and his son had endured. Steam was blown off by each of them. The two hadn't fallen into heated arguments since Norman made his change. He had to show he was no threat. He slowly lowered himself down. Red eyes kept their focus as he descended. His metal boots landed on the asphalt.
"Harry," he called. He kept his arms by his side. "Listen to me. I need you to come back with me. We must return straight to Oscorp."
Hobgoblin despised the orders directed at him. The man in the armor had no business telling him what to do. He roared. He galloped towards the metal suit. He raised his claws.
"No!" Spider-man gasped.
Before Hobgoblin could complete his strike, a metal hand gripped his wrist.
"Norman?!" the wall-crawler gasped again.
"I refuse to attack my son," the man declared. "But I won't be taken down by his Goblin side."
He then snatched the teen's other wrist. Hobgoblin glared into the yellow eyeholes of the gray mask. He snarled from his imprisonment. He used his new strength to push his weight against the man entangling him. Iron Patriot summoned his own strength from his machine. He kept Hobgoblin within his grasp. But knowing what to do next without harming him was tricky.
The web-spinner noticed the man struggling despite his directive. "Hang on, Iron Patriot."
He shot his webs. The white vine landed on Hobgoblin's back. Spider-man tugged on his webbing. The powerful force yanked Hobgoblin away from Iron Patriot. The yellow wrists slipped out of the metal hands. Hobgoblin flung towards a streetlight. The metal caught the monstrous form but not without curving. Hobgoblin landed on the sidewalk, and the metal pole bent.
Iron Patriot grew furious. He barked to the teen hero, "Why did you interfere?!"
"Interfere?!" Spider-man repeated. "He was set to slice you like birthday cake. Besides, you came onto my turf!"
"I don't need your help, Spider-man. I am an Osborn. I am more than capable of finishing any task ahead of me."
"That's because we have different means. I got S.H.I.E.L.D. orders to follow. I've learned my lesson in picking and choosing these fights—"
The metal pole creaked. It was in danger of falling over. Hobgoblin had fled from his spot. Iron Patriot swooped closer to him, preventing the creature from escaping. The web-head was about to join in when his ears picked up terrified gasps. His eyes caught a stream of bright lights. He leaped towards the source. Covering themselves behind newspaper vending boxes were two teenagers. Each one held a smart phone, intending to record the fight for their own uploads.
"Hey!" Spider-man chastised. "Now isn't the time to be thinking about your followers or hits!"
The heavy pole fell over. Red gloves caught it. His super strength kept it from crushing anyone like insects under a log. He kept his guard over the two teens as they bolted from the scene. He advised, "There are other great sights to see in New York! Check out Times Square or Coney Island!"
Once the district was cleared, he dropped the streetlight. He mumbled, "Last thing I need is for people to track down these bad guys like they're part of an online Scavenger Hunt."
He turned to Iron Patriot. "In case you've forgotten the first rule of being a superhero, you're supposed to be protecting the people."
He watched as Hobgoblin charged at the man like a bull.
"I am protecting them," Iron Patriot insisted. He swerved out of the impending danger. "By keeping anyone away from my son until he's cured."
Hobgoblin understood the blockade in his path. He had to be rid of him. He jumped. His height was incredible. Once he reached his peak, he plunged. He was preparing to come down on Iron Patriot like a boulder. Spider-man observed the crisis. He shot his webs towards a covered manhole. Taking the lid, he flung it towards a descending Hobgoblin. The heavy disk slammed into him.
The yellow creature lost his track. He smashed into the ground. He was growing exhausted. Between running around, delivering unsuccessful attacks, and weaseling away, his energy was depleting. His rage, however, refused to let him halt. He struggled to stand back up.
"Direct hit! Critical damage dealt!" Spider-man cheered himself. "And it looks like this guy is about ready to call it quits. I bet if I hurry I can let S.H.I.E.L.D. detain him and catch the ending to the laser show at the science museum."
He raced towards Hobgoblin. He intended to finish the fight and save his Friday night. Unbeknown to him, Iron Patriot overheard his plot.
"No!" the man yelled. His tone was less authoritative from a broken bidding and was more from an alarmed parent. He used his boosters and rocketed himself over. He tackled the teen hero.
"Hey!" Spider-man hollered. He saw his own feet unexpectedly lift from the ground. He looked ahead and saw Hobgoblin taking off. Shooting his webs, he aimed them on a building. They snagged. He tightly held on to the other end. The powerful grip allowed him to slip off Iron Patriot. He spun but quickly recovered.
The two were alone. Hobgoblin was no where in sight. Not even his distinct growls could be heard.
Staring at Iron Patriot, Spider-man shouted, "You know there's other ways to get my attention!"
"I know your strategy," the man declared. "You plan to exhaust him and then bring him into S.H.I.E.L.D. I won't stand by while you lock Harry up like some monster."
The web-slinger noticed the rage. He asked back, "And what exactly is your plan? You refuse to fight. Tire him out like a toddler before bedtime?"
"At least he'll be safe at Oscorp. He's an Osborn. That's where he belongs."
The wall-crawler could see the man would not surrender his position. That was a trait for an Osborn, both beneficial and infuriating. For a man claiming to have changed, the battle had been intense for the web-slinger. He could pause his superhero side and become a scientist. He needed to examine something that had been observed.
"This doesn't add up. How can that be Harry?" Spider-man questioned. "We were texting each other earlier this week."
He quickly realized what he had uttered. He hurriedly corrected himself. "I mean, Harry musta been in contact with his best friend, right? Talking about study sessions, and partying, and all. Someone in his squad musta noticed he'd been gone."
((So maybe my phone had overfilled with voicemails and texts. It's what happens when you're a full-time student and a full-time superhero under S.H.I.E.L.D. I barely have time to clear out my notifications with everyone spamming me Spidey Fail compilations. Not my best moments.))
"What reason do you have that it's Harry?" he quired. "You're a scientist. Prove your hypothesis."
Iron Patriot waved off the emendation. Though his face was hidden, it turned to sorrow. He dejectedly explained, "I don't know how it happened. I don't know who did it to him. But at Jameson's mentioning of some creature terrorizing the city… I felt this dread. I put on my Iron Patriot armor and scoured the city. Earlier when I came across this… this…"
"Hobgoblin," Spider-man filled in.
The man didn't appreciate the moniker. He discerned its diminutive origin. He continued, "I knew it had to be my son."
"No word on actually checking in with his circle? They're in high school. I'm guessing he and his best friend aren't glued at the hip. A guy like Harry has gotta have an active social life that doesn't involve crime fighting."
"I respect my son's privacy by allowing him to have his own contact list. I have no access to his numbers or addresses. Harry usually checks in with me, if only to let me be aware of his locations. I do trust him. But I never thought something this serious could've happen to him."
The hero analyzed the given account.
((Norman's involvement seems very personal. Could he be overrun with guilt because this situation involves a Goblin-like monster? Perhaps Norman is misplacing one responsibility for another. Sounds like he might be projecting.))
He pointed out, "You do know your findings aren't very concrete, right?"
"Sometimes in life you have moments where you go with your instincts," Iron Patriot responded. "No matter the lack of evidence. Those are the skills I have developed not only as a businessman, but also a parent. You must find a way to handle unknowns. Perhaps you will learn those lessons one day."
"Hopefully any parenting options won't come until after graduation. College graduation." Spider-man evaluated the man's voice. At least the given responses were no longer domineering ones. He contended, "OK, you and me have different goals in mind. I see no reason why the two of us should be enemies. We can at minimum agree that the city needs to be saved and that this Hobgoblin should be stopped. At the very least, if it is Harry, I owe you a soda."
"And why should I allow you to come aboard?" Iron Patriot questioned. Even with his facial expression hidden behind his helmet, his tone exhibited his antagonism. "Your last mission ended up with my son exposed to Ocatvious' symbiote. And let's not forget the catastrophe that happened afterwards."
Spider-man could feel himself growing annoyed. He hated how that pursuit ended. He hated how it was cited over and over. The assignment was a wreck for the S.H.I.E.L.D. hero. And it was a wreck for the brunet teen underneath. He had witnessed his best friend succumbing to the hideous symbiote. And he had seen him reside in a coma. He stared at the man in front of him. Rather than spit his anger back, he instead argued, "Because I've worked with bringing an Osborn back to his son."
The man in the armor grew quiet. He was aware of what the wall-crawler had mentioned. The S.H.I.E.L.D. hero declined to mention his horrific affairs as The Goblin. He was not looking to cast fault. It was Spider-man who saved him and helped reunite him with his boy.
"This battle has been tough for all three of us," he began.
Spider-man could see the man was changing his viewpoint.
"I… I just want my son back," Iron Patriot confessed. "He must be so confused, so frightened. I want to tell him to come home. But this accursed Goblin…!"
His anger racing through him, he shot from his repulsor.
Spider-man placidly watched the attack. The powerful assault wasn't aimed at anyone. Only discarded cinder blocks and broken crates were destroyed. Assuming the man's hunch was correct, he understood the anguish. He remained quiet.
Iron Patriot heaved a sigh. "He may not listen to me. I can't expect him to. Not after the way I treated him when I was The Goblin…. And after seeing this battle… He's so far gone. I only fear that it's too late."
He yearned to be a good role model. He wondered if he had set the wrong footsteps in front of his son to follow. Goblin-sized ones. He seemed ready to concede to failure.
"It's not too late," the web-head argued.
Iron Patriot looked at him.
"Harry doesn't hate you," Spider-man began. "Even when you were The Goblin. He wanted you to come back home. If he has become a Goblin—a Hobgoblin—then this isn't him. It's the formula that's messing with him. He needs help. He'll need the experience of someone who's already been a Goblin. Someone who knows how to stop it."
The businessman understood. A son needed his father.
"But if it's not Harry," he inquired, "then why the assistance?"
"It's my job as a hero to protect New York, remember? I'm Spider-man."
The man in the iron suit grew impressed. He respected the masked ruffian's reason. "Then let's continue protecting New York. But keep in mind that this is a rescue mission."
He took off on his repulsors.
"Roger that," Spider-man nodded. "I never intend on finishing off anyone I face."
He followed as he shot his webs. They headed down a street opposite of where they were standing. Hobgoblin was more than likely to take a path cleared of any obstacles.
Spider-man and Iron Patriot explored the city. The two had located whom they were searching for based on clues. Water rushed down the streets, creating rivers. They saw the source emerged from a damaged delivery truck full of gallons of drinking water. Many drones were left on crates and pallets for carting when the evacuation occurred. Hobgoblin was slashing the large bottles. He raised them and gulped down the purified liquids. The remains of the drink slipped down his heated body, cooling him off.
"Someone sure is thirsty," Spider-man remarked. "Let's hope he won't need a bathroom break anytime soon."
Hobgoblin sensed someone watching him. He ceased his drinking and scanned the area. His red eyes glared at his opponents. He tossed his water jug to them. When he saw that act didn't frighten them off, he rushed towards them. Spider-man and Iron Patriot jumped to different sides. Because the web-head was closer to the ground, Hobgoblin pursued him.
"Still wanna go toe-to-toe with me, huh?" Spider-man taunted. He danced around the pavement as he looked out for any claws slashing his way. "No problem. I can go for round two."
Iron Patriot watched as Hobgoblin kept his focus on the web-slinger. It pained Norman seeing his son acting in the same manner he had against the wall-crawler. He knew he needed to help his ally. He still had no plans on harming his boy. Searching for something that could work as a barrier, he saw a bright screen. The Daily Bugle had been filming and re-broadcasting the battle between himself, Spider-man, and Hobgoblin.
"Jameson," he muttered. While the older Osborn and the grouchy newscaster were friends, Norman was aware of the pride the noisy journalist carried when it came to remitting the news. He needed to keep his son away from any unwanted publicity for the time being. He soon realized their location. He raised his hand. His repulsors blasted a giant hole in the wall. He then called to his teammate, "Spider-man, help me lead Harry towards that Oscorp industrial building."
The web-spinner barely dodged a kick. He noted the man in the suit refused to call the yellow beast by his given code name. Instead, Norman continued to call his son by his birth name. Spider-man tried to peak in the direction his ally guided him. He saw a decrepit four-story loft. "Will that be safe? It looks abandon."
"It'll keep this battle out from the public eye," Iron Patriot replied.
Hobgoblin dashed towards Spider-man. The teen hero shot his webs against an empty pallet. He brought it towards himself and held the edges. He used it like a shield. Hobgoblin's claws were not developed enough to split through the wood on the first try. Spider-man decided to use the heavy material. He grasped it and pushed himself forward. He bashed Hobgoblin into a wall. The monster fell down as he leaped backwards.
"Out of the public eye?" Spider-man repeated. He couldn't understand the idea. "Why? You feel ashamed?"
"I have thick skin. I can take the criticism." Iron Patriot explained. "I don't want Harry to be bombarded with those blasted paparazzi anymore than he already is. He's still a boy. He deserves privacy. Much like you and the reason you cover your face."
Spider-man observed the same TV.
((I had done what I did to save Norman from his Goblin side. While I initially completed my heroic act to save my best friend's dad, I did see a genuine change Norman underwent. A second chance was what Norman needed for Harry's sake. I should probably start dropping my unfair judgments.))
"On the bright side, Iron Patriot, my masks do cover those unsightly pimples."
He shot his webs once more. This time he snatched a full gallon of water. Once the jug was in his hand, he broke off the lid. He jumped over towards Hobgoblin. He easily flipped the heavy bottle over and dumped all its liquid. "Wake up, sleepyhead!"
Hobgoblin was doused as though he was a camp fire. He coughed. He looked up and growled. He was displeased with his alarm. Like many who are rudely awaken, he had a desire to smash whatever disrupted him. He stepped up.
Spider-man tossed the bottle aside. "The first bell is about to ring! And being a Hobgoblin is no excuse for tardiness!"
Red eyes narrowed. He knew when he was being ridiculed. He sprinted forward. His adversary jumped aside.
"Is that all you got?" the web-head teased. "Come get me!"
He shot his webs and leaped into the air. He made sure his opponent was following him, which Hobgoblin was. "Ha! No one can be bait like me!"
The beast kept his red eyes on the flying wall-crawler. His pursuit was relentless. His bare feet crushed disposable cups, and his beefy body swayed around fire hydrants as he kept his goal on the web-slinger. He only stopped as he narrowly dodged a repulsor attack. He searched for the one who caused it. He spotted Iron Patriot across from where he stood. He grew displeased.
Iron Patriot made no arrangements on harming his boy. He only wanted to cease the rampage. With Hobgoblin's endless appetite for carnage, he needed to find a way of reaching his son.
"Listen, Harry," he tried once more. "Stop giving into this Goblin's destructive nature. You must come back with me to Oscorp. I can work on a cure for you."
Hobgoblin seemed disinterested. He raced towards him.
"Don't look so upset for being late!" Spider-man shouted as he swung down. "The after-party's been moved here!"
He kicked his adversary.
Hobgoblin was directly hit. He flew into the building through the opening spot. He slid against the ground. Iron Patriot and Spider-man hurriedly followed. The wall-crawler quickly used his webbings and patched up the hole in case the yellow beast sought to escape. He turned around. The first level was quite spacious. The wooden floorboards were in need of repair. Lights and other outlets exposed their wirings. He saw broken cables covering a shaft elevator.
"Got plans for this place?" he asked the owner.
"It's a work in progress," the older Osborn answered. "As with diamonds, give them enough time and pressure, and the coal changes."
"How poetic."
The two faced forward. Hobgoblin picked up his head, followed by his shoulders and torso. He scooted himself away from the ones attacking. He kept his eyes on them as he brought himself to his feet. He looked around. Darkness and an unfamiliar area were all he saw. He knew he was trapped.
"End of the line, Hobbie!" the web-slinger shouted.
The monster glared. He still believed the two costumed freaks were threats. He lowered himself and snarled. Surprisingly enough, he restrained himself. His heart pounded. His mind raced. He doubted if he could handle these two foes. He began to shake.
Spider-man reviewed his assignment. He took a step forward, keeping himself in between Hobgoblin and Iron Patriot. He gazed into the beast's crimson eyes. He stared past the uncontrolled rage. What he saw was fear. Fear from uncertainty. Fear from a lack of control. Fear from isolation.
He realized he had done all he could for this mission. He understood who he would need to report to and what he would need to say. That could be completed at another time. He had something else to fulfill. Placing his superhero duty aside, he relaxed his stance. He gestured towards the creature in a nonthreatening manner. "He's all yours."
Iron Patriot understood the wall-crawler would no longer meddle with the battle. He still had no plans of unleashing attacks. Confidently, he responded, "I'll take it from here. I know what I must do."
The proud industrialist stepped out from his armor. He said nothing else. He kept his pleading eyes on the yellow creature in front of him. Step by step, he left behind his military equipment.
The wary, red eyes kept themselves on the silent man who walked apart from the teen and approached him. No attacks came his way, so he placed his monstrous hands to himself. He kept his guard up. He was now face to face with him.
"Harry, please," Norman implored. "I'm your father. I know it's you. I know you're confused. I know this Hobgoblin serum was somehow forced on you. Let me help you. Let me take you back to Oscorp's labs to work on a cure."
He stared at the beast. He looked beyond the monster and saw someone who was in need of help. He saw the one who mattered to him the most.
"No, it's more than that. I… I want you to come home. Please, son."
Spider-man watched the interaction between the two. It was odd hearing Norman Osborn, the owner of Oscorp, plead rather than yell or command. He kept himself motionless to not detract from the pivotal moment. But he kept himself close enough in case he needed to interfere.
The yellow beast appeared to be listening to the tense yet composed man in front of him. As the one who claimed to know him came closer, he felt himself shaking. The blue eyes staring at him were full of sorrow but also carried a genuine concern. For him. A powerful roar ripped from his throat.
Norman and Spider-man paused. The scream was far from a battle cry. It was one forged from anguish. They watched with great intent as the creature began to shake. The legs underneath Hobgoblin pushed and pulled away from under him. He hunched his back vertebrae by vertebrae. His larger height started to shrink. His arching back became slender. His bulking arms shrank and thinned out. Sprouts of auburn hair popped up on top of the bare scalp and gathered.
Spider-man couldn't believe what he was seeing. The mysterious creature was reverting back into a human form. He appeared more like someone his age. Like the one who invited Peter in the limo on that rainy day. Hobgoblin truly was his missing best friend. Norman Osborn, a former enemy, was right.
The father saw his son returning. He gasped. The teen transforming was in no shape to stay on his own feet. He began to sway. Norman rushed towards him. Setting his arms up, he managed to catch the returned adolescent before he could hit the ground. From the immense downward force, Norman dropped to his knees. But he managed to maintain his grip.
Silently, the father looked down towards his son. He saw the pale skin, coupled with cuts and bruises. He heard the labored breathing. Lifting one hand, he gently brushed away the auburn locks. He spotted the closed eyes. Harry was unable to handle the stress. His boy had fainted.
Spider-man was lost for words. He spent his Friday night hunting down the creature as an order from S.H.I.E.L.D. He was glad to have given Iron Patriot a second chance when he did. He was glad to have worked alongside a trustworthy ally. He approached the Osborn family.
"Looks like you found Harry," he softly remarked. He rubbed the back of his head. "I guess I owe you a soda?"
Norman acknowledged the web-head. He made no effort to gloat. He grasped he was able to achieve his goal thanks to the notorious wall-crawler.
"I need to get him back to Oscorp," he finally spoke. "Run some tests. Try and figure out how all this happened. Probe who instigated this mess."
"Oscorp is the home for the Osborns," the teen hero commented. He watched as the older Osborn looked back towards his armor. The conundrum of placing together a cumbrous metal costume instead of a stretchy shirt and pants was abundant. He wanted to accept his responsibility for his shortcomings.
"Let me take him," he offered.
Norman looked at the wall-crawler. Their paths had intertwined when he began his studies on the web-spinner. But the masked ruffian had arrived more and more often at Oscorp. Spider-man had saved him, but he also was always prepared to give a hand to the younger Osborn. Growing curious for a cause, or perhaps a layer of suspicion, Norman asked, "Why are you so interested in my son?"
"Uh…" Spider-man struggled to find an answer. He debated since a little trust was built between the hero in tights and the man in the metal suit that he could reveal himself. His gloved hand hovered over the top of his mask. His eyes gazed towards the unconscious teen. He knew he couldn't risk endangering those close to him. Slipping his hand back down, he replied, "I've helped the Osborns before. I've fought against The Goblin but worked alongside Iron Patriot and Patrioteer. I don't believe there is such a thing as an evil gene. It's my job to protect people, even the Osborns."
The proud businessman pondered the web-head's words. The wall-crawler had earned his trust. Not just with himself or his company, but also with someone he treasured. He directed, "Watch over him."
Spider-man met with the father and son. He lowered himself and grabbed hold of the blacked out teen. He studied the other boy. Hypocrisy chomped down on him. While he took to the skies for his duty, he overlooked those around him. He never wanted anyone close to him to be hurt because of his own negligence. He was sorry for doubting. He glanced over when the suit was wrapping the older Osborn.
"That's the benefit of wearing spandex," the web-spinner remarked. "You get to wear 'em under your clothes and not hafta worry about clunky armor."
"There are an ample of issues to be aware of," Norman replied. "I was planning on taking care of them for the Patrioteer armor. I was hoping to do them with Harry."
Spider-man sensed the worry. Minding the younger Osborn, he carefully stood up. He assured, "You'll be able to do that soon enough. This Hobgoblin blood won't take control of Harry forever. You ready?"
The heavy footsteps of the metal suit bordered him. He held his metal arms out. "I'm taking back my son first."
"Wait, I trusted you for Iron Patriot. I know I was wrong but—"
"He's my son. I should be the one to take hold of him."
"Fair enough," the wall-crawler conceded. He permitted the father to grab hold of the knocked out teen. Watching the older Osborn resettling his boy, he turned somber. He knew what needed to follow next. "You know I'll need to report what happened tonight. Something with a lotta witnesses won't magically go away on its own. I know it's not your style, but it'll be easier if you cooperate."
The man gazed down towards his benumbed son. His face softened. "I understand. You have done your part in giving me a hand. I'll be the one to contact S.H.I.E.L.D. I'll handle all the questions. For now, I only want to focus on Harry."
Spider-man became surprised with the agreement. Considering what happened that night, he understood. He wanted to encourage that idea. "Sounds like a plan. Just lead the way."
The metal mask fell over the man's face. "You're coming back to Oscorp as well?"
"I'm a superhero for S.H.I.E.L.D., not a spy," Spider-man asserted. "You may need some assistance around the science lab. Or maybe just someone to keep Harry company after he wakes up."
The yellow eyes in the metal mask stared down to the auburn teen. "I would like it if he could associate with his group. Once he recovers, that is. I believe you will do until I can reach Harry's best friend."
Keeping his son in place, Iron Patriot raised one hand. He blasted apart the webbings for a clearing. Making his exit, he took himself and his boy to the sky.
"Wow, that's the first time someone placed Peter over Spider-man." The wall-crawler shot his webs and followed.
Many questions hovered over the hero as he escorted his best friend and his father back to Oscorp. He would assist in any way possible. The overwhelming inquiries needed answers. Those could wait. For now, he was grateful the two were safe.
End Contending a Hobgoblin on a Friday Night
