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DJ Dubois

August 2020

Notes Part 1: This story is an alternate take on the events in Amazing Spider-Man 121-122. Admittedly it's a story that's been brewing in my head since that arc's retelling in Marvel Tales (over 40 years). I've written Spidey in crossovers. This is my first attempt on him in a solo work. Hope folks enjoy it.

Notes Part 2: Spider-Man and related characters belong to Marvel.

Chapter 1 [Manhattan—Osborn Brownstone, Early February]

Brisk chill cut through the air. Flurries danced on their downward trek toward the asphalt and concrete below. Passersby scurried from place to place. Some shivered their way down the stairs to the subway. Perhaps they took the bus from their jobs to home or vice-versa.

For some, the business still awaited them….

Spider-Man swung high over the streets. Each parabolic motion ate away a little more of the distance between JFK and the brownstone. Guilt ate at him. He'd just returned from a trip north. There he'd faced the Hulk with a few bruises dotting his face and arms. Film sat undeveloped in the webbed bundle on his back. He should've been heading for the Daily Bugle. Bills and obligations pressed as always.

Still his friend needed him more at that point.

His girlfriend had begged him to come back earlier.

Duty and the bills can really stink. I hope JJJ appreciates these pics of the Hulk and me. He ground his teeth. He alighted against the brownstone's wall. He scampered around the house's side. Concern added to his pace. He glanced through a particular window.

Inside, Tragedy played out its familiar drama. A young man with short red hair thrashed about in bed. Helplessness tore at the two young women by his bedside. An elderly man in a tweed suit examined the bedridden patient for exact signs.

Harry, what did you do? Spidey shook his head. He knew his roommate's addiction issues. Just two years earlier, Harry's issues had overwhelmed him. He fell behind in his studies. Mary Jane Watson, the red head by his bedside, told him that she wanted to be friends but little else. The Osborn name and its legacy crushed him beneath its burden. He'd found relief in heroin and other pills….

…that was before the overdose that had nearly killed him…

And now you're back to this point again. Spidey crawled down the side of the wall taking care not to be seen. Gwen's and Mary Jane's questions would present further issues to be avoided. And that wasn't counting running into Harry's father in the midst of a quick change or unexplained situation.

Less than a minute later, Peter Parker emerged from the alley. He straightened his parka and smoothed his beige pants. Okay. I'm here, Harry. Just give me a minute. We'll get you taken care of! He looked up and down the street to make sure the coast was clear. He hustled through the front door.

His spider sense buzzed across his scalp.

Now what? He surveyed the area around himself. He glanced up the stairs. He found nothing of note anywhere close by. Now I'm imagining things. I really need to talk to Gwendy and MJ about this. He wavered on his feet. Chills froze away at him. Great. I'm sick. Worry about that later, Parker. Harry. Harry needs you! He put his foot on the first stair toward the next floor.

A hand clamped down on his left shoulder.

His spider sense jangled his nerves further.

Peter turned toward the man whose hand sat on his shoulder. He found a well-built man with identical hair to his son's. Said person wore a dark blue suit. His green eyes burned into Peter's….

…Harry's father…Norman Osborn, Businessman Extraordinaire…

…Harry's father…the Green Goblin, one of Spider-Man's deadliest villains who knew his secret identity when in a certain frame of mind depending upon the point of view….

"Parker, what are you doing here?" Osborn challenged. Menace and Venom flared in his nostrils. He ground his teeth. He tightened his grip.

Peter resisted the urge to pry Norman's hand from his shoulder. On one level, such restraint was necessary to preserve his secret identity. In addition, however, he did not want to remind the elder man of his real capabilities or said identity either. "I wanted to check on Harry, Mr. Osborn. I'm sorry."

Osborn coughed. A slight spasm shot through him. Sweat beaded across his forehead. "Of course, you are. That's why you won't stay away from my son!" He sucked down a calming breath.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Gwen called me. My plane just landed an hour ago at JFK. This is the fastest I could get here for Harry, Mr. Osborn."

Osborn's eyes narrowed. His mouth twisted into an even deeper scowl. "Parker, for such an intelligent young man, you just do not understand! I will make it clear!" He paced back and forth across the wooden floor. His hands clenched into tightly-wound fists. "Get out! You're responsible for my son's problems!"

"I'm…" Peter stiffened. "How am I…?" His eyes went wide.

"Ever since you moved in to that apartment, Harry's had problems! I should've known you'd cause problems!" Osborn accused. He rubbed his forehead. His scalp went numb.

Peter glanced upstairs and then back toward his host/landlord/nemesis.

"PETER! Oh thank heavens!" Gwen rushed down the stairs. She threw her arms around her boyfriend's neck.

"Sorry, Gwen. I got here as fast as I could." He tried to ignore Osborn. Rather he focused on her. "Thanks for calling. I was trying to ask Mr. Osborn about Harry's condition." He glanced at the fuming father.

"Peter, Harry's overdosed again. We don't know why. He was going to rehab and doing so well." Gwen glanced into his eyes. Then she noticed the bruises on his face. "What happened to you?"

"Challenging assignment. I tried to dodge some debris. A piece hit me in the face." Peter answered half-truthfully. The Hulk threw it at me. I had to dodge it. Then there was overturned cab. So that did happen at least. I can't tell her either about Doc Ock and Aunt May either.

Gwen sighed. "Peter, I wish Mr. Jameson would give you something else to do! Following Spider-Man around gets you hurt."

"Gwen, I…" Peter grimaced. Just a few weeks earlier, she'd asked him to promise to stop taking photos of Spider-Man. Getting into that debate with her especially in front of their host was the last thing any of them needed at that moment.

And, as the Parker Luck would have it, Osborn glanced at him. For a heartbeat, Recognition jabbed at him. The fog surrounding Peter seemed to thin a bit in his mind. Then he shook himself back to the situation at hand.

"Mr. Osborn, the doctor wants to see you. Once again, we're all sorry…." The redheaded girl apologized.

Sarcasm dismissed the attempted apology. "Miss Watson, I'm sure you regret everything. However, you crushed Harry's feelings! You made him feel inadequate and insecure!" He grimaced as another spasm shot through his forehead. "Parker, just get out and take Miss Watson and Miss Stacy with you! You're not welcome! JUST GO!" He pointed toward the door.

Once again, Peter's spider sense jangled at him. With each of Osborn's spasms, his own sense rang louder and louder in his head. Is he remembering? Gwen. Gotta get MJ and her out of here! "All right, Mr. Osborn. I'll come back for my things. The last thing I want to do is upset you. Hope Harry's doing better." He took Gwen's hand. "Come on. Let's go." He led the girls out the door.

Osborne stalked over to the door. He slammed it shut. He shuddered and spasmed. His legs wobbled. He leaned up against the wall. "What? Not again!" The instability weakened his legs.

Memoria flashed images of Spider-Man in front of him. In one of them, shadows cloaked the hero's unmasked face.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Osborne brought his fist down on the counter.

The doctor rushed down the stairs. "Norman! Norman! Take a deep breath!" He had a brown vial in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "I brought your pills just in case." He measured out three octagonal pills and put them in Osborn's hand. "Take them."

Osborne swallowed them and chased with water. Within a couple of minutes, the spasms and twitches vanished. He straightened himself. "Thank you, Roger." He took a few calming breaths. "Anything else about Harry?"

Roger shook his head. "I want to put him in the hospital. From what I can see, this is not a good place for him."

"I took care of the worst parts. Make the arrangements for Harry. I need some air." Osborne put his heavy coat and hat on. Then he left without further word. Before he'd made it around the block, the spasms had started again. He rubbed his forehead.

There was something else about Peter. He knew there was. He just didn't know what it was yet.