Chapter 8: Harry Osborn

Harry Osborn was used to being ignored by his father. In fact, everyone would say Harry had no parents. He lived on his own, in a fancy penthouse apartment with a butler who followed to every whim of his. And that was when Harry lived at home. Most of the time he spent his life in historical boarding schools, far away from his father. He appreciated it. It was the nicest thing Norman Osborn has done for him.

Then his father swept that great life right out from under him. Harry came home for summer break, excited at the possibility of sailing to Hawaii with his friends or participating in drag races down by Strip Lane. Harry planned for an adventurous summer vacation in California when his father announced they were moving out. No more California. No more bikini clad women walking the sidewalks. No more fresh ocean smell. Nothing. Norman declared they were moving the base of the company back to New York City, which meant that he too had to move.

Harry argued on the behalf of hid education, claiming a new school at such a time would hurt his grades and GPA. His father wasn't fooled. He mocked him for his low grades and his rascal behavior as signs that Harry needed a new start anyway, which was why he signed Harry to attend a public school in Queens. Midtown Tech.

The idea of attending public school mortified Harry, but not in the way one may think. The idea horrified him because it meant that he had to return home every single day. The concept horrified Harry. To see his father every day was equivalent to torture.

Despite Harry's attempts to convince his father to let him stay in California, he found himself moved among the thousands of boxes being moved across the country. Rather than living at a beach house, he now lived in a penthouse apartment, overlooking Central Park. Instead of a warm breeze, he got a chill crawling up his body. The worst part of it all was the commute to the school. Nearly an hour long. Each way.

The school was different too. It was like in those teenage films. Cliques of all kind roamed the halls with lockers and school spirit decorating the walls. What tickled Harry the most was that the trophies weren't for any sport teams, but for nerdy clubs. In fact, most of the after-school activities revolved around some sort of academic focus.

Principal Morita greeted him and gave a run-down of the school. "You are lucky to come when you did, Mr. Osborn," the Asian principal said. "We had an opening in your grade."

Harry didn't find himself lucky and silently cursed the student who left the vacancy. He joined his fellow classmates, walking from class to class. It was hard to make any new friends, especially at his age. Not that he had a lot of friends at his other school. To be honest, he never considered them friends. Just kids he had to hang-out with to survive.

Until he met Ned Leeds. The kid was as lonely as him, and they quickly bonded. It was the first time Harry actually felt comfortable being himself in front of another person. Being an Osborn didn't matter to Ned and Harry was grateful for it.

Harry also joined the decathlon team. It was something to do and Morita told him he had to participate in some kind of after-school program. He tried out the first thing available, which was the academic decathlon. It had an opening and tried out for it. To his immense surprise, he won the coveted seat. The best part of the win was that the president of the decathlon team was Michelle Jones. A pretty girl in his grade who possessed a sharp wit along with a dry sense of humor. She was often serious and Harry did his best to get her to break, but she only gave him the middle finger or threats.

Despite his worries that he would hate the school and not have any friends, it turned out Harry didn't mind Midtown at all. He made the two closest friends he ever had in his life.

But his happiness was threatened by the reemergence of Peter Parker.

Harry feared what would happen if Peter ever returned to Queens. Would Ned toss him aside? Would he lose his spot on the decathlon team? Would he be kicked out of Midtown? It was a worry that others would find ridiculous, but to Harry, it was valid. Harry basically took over Peter's life. He befriended Ned, took his spot on the team and even his placement in their grade level. It wouldn't surprise Harry at all if Peter demanded all those things back.

So when Peter made that surprise visit to the school, Harry's mind plunged into icy waters, freezing up as everyone erupted into a frenzy of happiness. Even Michelle ran off to meet Peter. And their interaction proved to Harry that he was long forgotten. His fears only dissipated when Peter informed him that he would not be coming back, which meant Harry was safe. While everyone else was saddened by the news, Harry smiled.

Nothing changed much after that day. Peter was out of reach and Ned relied on him for friendship. But there was more talk about Peter Parker. The whole school went crazy over Peter Parker's return. It was all anyone talked about. Even the teachers slacked in their lessons to discuss and gossip about Peter's homecoming. Harry found it fairly outrageous, but dared not to say it aloud.

Things died down a few days later, but Ned still talked about Peter. Almost texted him every day. Sometimes it seemed like every hour. But today, no one had their phones with them. Michelle confiscated them to get them focused on the upcoming meet against Brooklyn Tech, their arch-rivals. Not only that, it was the semi-finals. If they wanted to hold onto their trophy and championship title, they had to beat Brooklyn Tech, including the supposedly smartest kid around—Cody Connell.

They were backstage at Brooklyn Tech, drilling each other with questions to prep themselves. Harry and Ned quizzed each other. "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead's two motifs are what?" Ned questioned Harry.

Harry bit his lower lip as he thought. "Art vs. reality and... ridiculousness."

"Uh... they were actually looking for absurdity."

"Same thing," Harry said, looking around until he spotted Michelle. She caught him staring and glared. "Why is she so serious about this?"

"Oh... Michelle? Because this is her first year as president," Ned said. "She doesn't want to be the person that loses the title."

"We won't," Harry said. "Honestly, you guys are the smartest people I have ever met and I attended those rich, private schools for years. This team has it in the bag. Just got to walk out of the store."

Ned chuckled. "I wish, but Cody Connell is on this team. He's the smartest kid in the world. He won a National Merit scholarship. Already he's already been accepted to MIT, Stanford, Harvard and even Cambridge. He's a genius. Heard his IQ is around 160."

Harry snorted. "IQ means nothing. You can be the smartest person in the world and still not survive out in the real world," he commented. He should know after listening to all the stories going on at Oscorp. "Anyway, he's just one guy versus all of us. Shouldn't be hard."

Harry checked out the other team. They all too radically nerdy for his taste. Dark glasses pressed tight up against their faces, ties choked around their neck like a hangman's noose, and braces shining from their mouths, made Harry cringed. Those poor kids wouldn't have survived at his old boarding school.

Ned sighed heavily. "Yeah, well, last year, we ended with a tied game and had to go onto a lightning round. One person from each team had to answer five questions. It was intense."

"Who won?"

"We did," Ned answered. "That's why we went onto to Nationals. But... if it happens again, I don't know if we'll win against Cody."

Harry looked back to the kid named Cody. Dark haired, pimply face and awkward gaunt, the kid hardly looked intimidating. Harry knew his father wouldn't consider the man anything, but a nuisance. A man who lacked confidence was a failure of a man. His father's favorite quote to him.

The curtains in the corner of the stage ruffled, distracting Harry for a moment. He wondered if it was the presenter ready to get the show started. But, a kid with a greyscale jacket, navy hat and rim glasses appeared, eyes bouncing around the stage until he spotted them.

"Ned!"

Ned turned and his eyes glowed. "Peter!"

Ned went to Peter. Harry held back, taking his time to approach the famous Peter Parker. Ned was already blabbering away. "I can't believe you made it! This is awesome!" Ned said. "Wait—what's wrong with your eyes? Are you blind again?"

"What? Oh—no," Peter took off the glasses and folded them in his hand. "Just part of a disguise. Hi, Harry... right?"

Harry was surprised that Peter called him out or even remembered him. Harry tempted to glance over his shoulder to make sure he was talking to him. "Yeah," he said, shaking Peter's hand. "And you're... Peter?"

It was a slip of the tongue. His father always told him he needed to watch his mouth, but Harry sometimes couldn't help it. It was instinct.

But, Peter didn't take it as an insult. He laughed. "Wanted to wish you guys good luck. You're going to do great."

Ned didn't looked encouraged. "It's Brooklyn Tech, Peter," he said, jerking his head to the Brooklyn team. "Cody Connell is there."

Peter peeked around Ned. "So what?"

"So what?" Ned flabbergasted. "Peter—he knows every question to ever exist in the universe. We barely beat their team last year!"

"But we did."

"Yeah, but we had you then! You beat him in that lightning round."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at Peter. He was the champ that knocked Cody off and got the team to Nationals. No wonder he was hero-worshipped by everyone on the team. Not only was he Spider-man, he got them to Nationals.

Peter shrugged off Ned's remark. "You don't need me to win. You guys already proved that point," he reminded his friend. "You can win again without me."

Ned looked dejected, shoulders dropping low, but nodded in concession. "Yeah... okay. It would be less nerve-wracking if you were on the team."

"I don't think so," Peter grinned. "You wouldn't know if I would show up or not."

Ned laughed and Harry stood there like a fool, not knowing what the hell they were talking about. Some inside joke he wasn't privy to knowing. Suddenly, a loud call came from behind them, shouting at one of them.

"Hey! Loser!"

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see Michelle. She strode up to them, arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed on one person. "Decided to show up on time for once, Parker?"

Peter shoved his hands in his pocket. "Yeah, I know."

"Staying for the whole thing?"

"Of course," Peter said. "Someone's got to be out there as a distraction to the other team."

Michelle rolled her eyes just as Mr. Harrington came back from speaking with the host and ordered attention. "Gather around," he called, beckoning them to circle around him. "Oh—hey, Peter. Thanks for joining."

That got everyone to weirdly stare at Mr. Harrington until the teacher recognized his mistake. "Right. You can't participate," he said. "So, um, never mind then." He clapped his hands to start over. "Anyway, now I know Brooklyn Tech is our toughest competitor, but we beat them last years. We can beat them again this year."

Except this time they didn't have Peter Parker, Harry sarcastically commented in his head.

"So, let's do our best," Mr. Harrington ended his pep rally. Not exactly the confidant boost they needed.

Peter wished them all luck and slipped back behind the curtain to return to his seat. The presenter announced a five minute warning and everyone started to get into position. Across the stage, their competition kept goggling at them with gaped mouths. Harry didn't know why, until Flash yelled at them across the stage.

"That's right!" Flash boasted. "Spider-man is with us!"

The victory came in not the quite spectacular showdown Harry imagined.

Although it ended in their favor nonetheless. All because Michelle got an historical question correct before Cody did. It gave them the extra two points needed to win.

They weren't kidding about Cody though. The kid was like the Internet, but he lacked charisma. His responses were monotonous and dull. Almost as if he was bored. But he wasn't. Sweat crowned his head and the jittery eyes told all of the seriousness of the meet.

The team wanted to celebrate their victory to Eddie's. Harry planned to go.

"You coming?" he asked Ned.

"Yeah, I think so," Ned said after a moment. "I'm gonna ask Peter if he wants to come."

And Ned left his side to find Peter.

Harry turned back to the group, smiling and congratulating one another for a job well-done. Harry sidled up next to Michelle. "Congrats, Miss President," he said. "You did a fine job leading these brave men and women."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Is that your best line?"

"Not a line," Harry swore, crossing over his heart. "Giving you your rightful dues. We won because of your leadership."

Michelle's gaze narrowed. "Thanks… where's Ned?"

"Off with Peter somewhere… I think."

Michelle cast a look around the room. "Oh—there he is."

Harry followed Michelle's gaze and saw Ned standing beside Peter, energetically talking to each other. Michelle moved and Harry followed, walking up to the two old friends and joining their chat.

Peter spied their approached and flashed a proud smile. "MJ—you did great," he congratulated her. "Told you had this."

Harry caught the corner of Michelle's lips twitching upwards. "Are you waiting for me to give you credit for helping me go over the sixties' space revolution?"

"Uh… no."

"Good," Michelle answered and Harry detected no hostile tone in her speech. Her gaze never wandered from Peter's face as she continued speaking. "Are you coming to Eddie's with us or what?"

Peter nodded. "I want to," he said, "if you're okay with it. Don't want to intrude."

Michelle nonchalantly shrugged. "Don't care."

"Cool!" Peter said, "Better ask first though."

Harry squinted, befuddled. "Ask who?" he was curious who else he needed permission from in order to order a shake.

Peter suddenly got bashful. "Oh, um…"

He never answered for a calm voice intercepted his speech. "Ready to go?"

Harry, Michelle and Ned craned their necks back to gape up at the imposing figure who hovered over their group. The man was tall, bearded and buffed. It reminded Harry of a bodyguard and wondered if he was assigned to Parker. After all, Harry remembered having a "bodyguard" around him when he was in middle school. It was his father's way of keeping him on a leash.

But Peter didn't act bothered or dismissive of the man. His eyes shined up at him. "Everyone's going to Eddie's to celebrate," he told the man. "Can I go?"

The bearded brushed his jawline. "I don't know. I don't see why not, but Tony may have something else in mind." The man turned his gaze from Peter to the three of them. "Congratulations. That was a fine victory you all won."

For a bodyguard, he sounded far too polite and worldly. A man who lived a simple life. But the way Peter respected and admired the man, it would almost appear the man was some kind of god.

And then, Ned's eyes widened. His mouth stuttered like his brain malfunctioned. "You... you..."

"Yes," the man smiled. "I am—"

"You have a beard!" Ned blurted.

Peter elbowed Ned in the arm. "Dude!"

But the man laughed it off. "You say the unexpected," the man responded. He stuck out his hand toward Ned. "It's good to see you again, son. Under better circumstances too."

Ned's hand slowly rose to shake the man's hand. "I can't believe it," he uttered. "Captain America remembers me."

It was Harry's turn to fall into shock. That was Captain America. Him! He didn't look anything like in the papers. All the clean-shaved appearance grew into a rugged bush, a man with more burdens and scars than before. As Harry studied the man, he found that Ned was correct. It was indeed Captain America. With a more wild and gruff appearance.

Captain America nodded. "Of course. How could I forget the brave boy who tried to save his friend's life?" he said. "You did the right thing, son."

Ned's face turned bright pink and his body went sluggish, knees wobbling. He tried to say something else, but couldn't spit it out. Too shell-shocked to even breathe.

Harry patted him hard on the back. "Breathe, buddy," he commented. "It's only a soldier."

That snapped Ned into action. He erected his back and snapped a salute to the captain. "Sir!"

"Don't do that," came another voice off to the side. "He's no longer a captain."

Harry turned to the voice and used all his strength to not mutter a curse.

Tony Stark sauntered up to their group, purple sunglasses on and phone twirling between his fingers. He slipped the phone in his pocket as he stood beside Peter. He clapped one hand on Peter's shoulder.

"Congratulations on your win," Stark said to them. "Pretty impressive with all the bell ringing. Quite the team." Stark eyed Ned. "How you doin'? Ned—right?"

Ned froze up again. His mouth hung open as his eyes rounded on Iron Man. Harry, however, was not infatuated with Iron Man's presence. He's heard of the great Tony Stark. He basically grew up on stories of the famous Stark family. The Starks were renowned for their arrogance, apathy and callous conduct. His father specifically loathed Tony Stark. Called him a fraud and a sell-out all the time. A phony too, and Harry grew up to believe it as truth as he witnessed through the Stark's exploits as the eccentric billionaire.

Tony Stark kept that easy smile until his eyes met with Michelle. His smile faded to a somber expression. "Miss Jones."

"Mr. Stark," Michelle evenly replied.

Harry glanced between them, wondering how Tony Stark and Michelle Jones knew each other enough that Stark regarded her with fear and respect.

"So—what are you kids up to?" Stark questioned. "Off to some kegger party to celebrate? Don't worry. I won't call the cops."

Captain America slapped Stark's arm. "Stop trying to pollute their minds," he said. "Peter said something about an Eddie's?"

Stark thought. "Doesn't sound like a bar."

Captain America rolled his eyes. "It's a soda shop," he said. "Peter wants to go."

Stark sighed and checked his watch. "Fine. That's fine," he decided. "Peter, you can go with your friends. Cap and I have to talk about… business."

Captain America jerked his head to Stark. "What? Stark—we aren't supposed to—"

"It's fine," Stark insisted in a more serious tone that indicated no more discussion. "He's more than capable of taking care of himself."

Captain America looked unsure, ready to argue when Peter, who uneasily glanced between the two of them spoke up. "You're not going to—"

Stark shook his head. "No. Not at all," he diffused whatever worry Peter held. "Nothing like that. Okay, here," Stark pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and shoved it into Peter's hand. "Take this. Cap and I will only be close by. Two minutes away. Tops. Stay close to your friends. Don't draw attention. If you get into a situation, you know what to do."

Peter nodded along to whatever Stark said, agreeing to follow his instructions. "Um, Mr. Stark? Tony? I don't need the money," he claimed, trying to give the money back. "Aunt May gave me a twenty, so—

"Keep it. Spend it on your friends," he said, gesturing to Harry, Michelle and Ned. "Now, have fun. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"And don't do anything he would do," Captain America added.

Peter smirked. "Stay in the gray area. I know."

Captain America frowned, puzzled by the comment, but Tony Stark only chortled. "Yeah, kid," he said. "Now—put your hat and glasses on, okay? Stay with the kids in your classroom. Don't wander off."

The two famous Avengers said their goodbyes and headed out to the front, where they slowly were being recognized by the other parents and onlookers at the meet. Peter threw on his hat and placed his glasses on his nose, becoming a nerdy version of himself.

Michelle laughed. "Like middle school," she commented as they joined their fellow classmates through the school and onto the bus.

They walked through Eddie's red door, spying around for tables to squeeze together for the group. The place wasn't exactly packed. Stools at the bar were opened and a few tables scattered around the back were available for picking, but not enough to squeeze everyone together, so they all separated. Some took to the stools and others to the back-end of the shop. Michelle slid into a seat at a table as did Peter and Ned. Harry, realizing everyone wanted to sit with Peter Parker, rushed to catch the last seat. He slid into the chair right before Flash could drop his butt on it.

When Flash glared at him, Harry simply lifted his shoulders up innocently. "So… Michelle?" he quipped, ignoring Flash's snips "What's good here?"

"The ice cream and the shakes," she answered. "Oh—and the candy. The fudge. The truffles. And their coffee as well."

"That's… basically everything here."

"Yeah," Michelle deadpanned. She looked to Ned and Peter. "I'm going to the counter to order. What does everyone want?"

"I'll go with you," Peter said, rising up from his seat when Ned stopped him.

"Actually, I better go," Ned stopped Peter. "You know how specific I am with my order."

Peter conceded with a nod. "Yeah, you are very detailed on it," he agreed. He dug into his pockets and lifted the fifty dollar bill Stark gave him. "Use this though, okay?"

Michelle wrinkled her nose at the money, but Ned took it in one swipe. "Sure thing," he said, getting out of his seat. "Still the Oreo shake?"

Peter nodded. Ned turned to Harry. "What about you?"

"Um… surprise me," Harry answered, smoothly as he snuck a look to Michelle. "Apparently everything's good."

A stream of hot air exhaled from Michelle's nostrils as she walked away from the table to the counter. Ned quickly followed with the money at hand, which left Harry with Peter at the table. Alone.

Awkward.

Harry had nothing to say to Peter. He hardly knew him. Based off first impressions, Peter acted shy and awkward, but friendly enough to not completely dislike on instant. He showed no falsity in his words, sounding sincere whenever he spoke. At the moment, he said nothing. He simply slouched in his seat, face half covered by his hat and glasses.

The silence bored Harry. He tapped his fingers along the table, bobbing his head to the beat. He glanced unceremoniously around the shop, avoiding catching Peter's eyes. Peter kept himself busy too. He awkwardly traced the outline of the table, face pinched in concentration as if he wanted to say something, but didn't quite know what to say. After all, their only mutual friends abandoned them for the counter to get their orders.

God… it's been forever since Michelle and Ned left. How long does it take to order a drink?

"So, um…"

Harry lifted his head up to Peter. The famous Peter Parker decided to speak. Probably hated the awkward silence as much as he did.

Peter twiddled his fingers as he tried to find the words he wanted to say. Harry was humored. "Speak friend and enter," he joked, again another slip of the tongue his father tried hard to slap out of him.

"Mellon."

Harry stopped drumming. "What?"

"Mellon," Peter repeated.

"No. I heard," Harry said, scooting up to the table. "You've seen Lord of the Rings?"

Peter nodded. "Seen all the movies and read the books."

"What about the Hobbit?" Harry questioned.

"Overdone," Peter answered. "They should have only made it one film. I mean, three films?"

"I know" Harry responded with an amused smile. "A bit ridiculous to expand a single book into three films. I mean… it was such a boring mess!"

"I heard Peter Jackson didn't have a clue what he was doing," Peter said, drawing closer to the table and no longer slouching. "No pre-production or anything. Started off the ground running."

"That's for damn sure," Harry agreed. "Nothing like the good, old classic Lord of the Rings."

They drew into a deeper conversation about films. They shared an instant dislike to remakes. The classics were always better. Peter could quote multiple works of science fiction films from Aliens to Blade Runner to Star Wars off the top of his head. A remarkable feat in Harry's book. The conversation expanded onto books and scientific legends. Peter knew a considerable amount of scientific studies, something that would have soundly impressed his father. Harry also discovered Peter to be an apt engineer when Peter mentioned a robot he built and his desire to improve on it. Harry gave him a few suggestions and they started exchanging ideas.

Harry found himself at ease with Peter Parker. It was odd for him to make a connection so fast, especially with someone he never expected to befriend. Once one looked passed his awkwardness and fame, Peter Parker was a normal bloke like him.

Michelle and Ned returned, carrying a tray with delicious treats. Ned placed a massive bowl of ice scream down in front of his seat and handed Harry a banana split. Michelle passed Peter his milkshake.

Once the two settled, Michelle questionably gazed at both him and Peter. "What? Did we miss something?" she asked.

Harry pulled his banana split toward him and lifted his spoon. "Nah—just the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

It was unfortunate that the day in the soda shop couldn't last forever. Eventually, they all parted ways and Harry dragged his feet back home. He took the long route home, idly walking down the avenues as he stopped every now and then to flip through a few magazines to pass the time.

Although, he should get home sooner rather than later. In case, his father was having one of those days.

He finished his stroll down Fifth Avenue and arrived back at the penthouse to a quiet serenity. The butler, Hammond, was dusting off the framed paintings that hung along the walls. "Hey, Hammond."

"Good evening, sir," Hammond responded. "You're father beat you home."

"That's not surprising considering I had a meet after school today."

Hammond merely hummed indifference. "I left your dinner on the counter," he informed him. "You may need to heat it up."

"Thanks."

Harry meandered to the kitchen. He wasn't that hungry, but better to eat now than wake up with stomach pains. Or, maybe it was better to skip it since his father sat at the table, reading the New York Times.

Norman Osborn lowered the paper and eyed his son. Those bright, green eyes Harry inherited regarded him with dissatisfaction. Harry sighed, wondering what he did wrong this time.

Norman folded the paper. "You're late."

"I had a meet."

"What meet?"

"Academic decathlon meet," Harry elucidated. "I told you about it. Asked if you would come."

Norman sneered. "No you did not."

"I did too!" Harry argued and immediately cringed. He should not have yelled at his father.

Norman's face drew darker as he glared at his son. "Watch your tone," he warned.

"Sorry, sorry," Harry apologized at once. "Didn't mean to snap at you. Been a long day." Harry went around the counter and found his dinner. He unwrapped it and put it in the microwave to heat.

Norman never took his eyes off him. "How did it go?"

"How did what go?"

"The meet that you supposedly attended this evening."

Harry looked over at his father. "Oh, um, we won," he said. "Beat Brooklyn Tech. Apparently, they are our arch-nemesis."

Norman chuckled. "The idea that a bunch of nerds' arch-nemesis is another bunch of nerds is ridiculous," he cheekily mocked. "Back in my day, it was us versus the dumb jocks. And, we always won at the top."

"Yeah, well, society changes with each generation," Harry said as he timed his food. "Being smart is cool now."

"It's always been cool," Norman said. "It's the personality that makes a person unfavorable. Not the brains."

Harry shrugged. He wasn't going to debate his father tonight. "Yeah, well, you missed an intense competition," he said. "Beat the team by two points. Celebrated afterwards."

"And that's why you took all this time to get home," Norman hissed. "Went to some party? Had a couple of beers?"

Harry flipped up an eyebrow. "God, Dad—no!" he half-shouted. "There was no beer. It's not their style. I went with the team to a soda shop. Hung out with them for about an hour and then got stuck on the train. It's no big deal."

"It is a big deal because I don't like the idea of my son walking alone at night!" Norman shouted, smacking the table as he rose up from his seat. "This city is dangerous. It's not safe anymore like it used to be with those silly costumed people flying about."

"I wouldn't say they were flying nor wearing any costume," Harry remarked as the microwave dinged in report that his dinner was heated.

Harry carried his heated dinner to the table. Norman looked at him strangely. "What are you talking about? You acted like you just saw them in action."

"Not in action," Harry answered as he blew on his fork that pierced a piece of chicken. "But, yeah. I met Captain America today and Iron Man."

Harry watched the muscles in Norman's face tense. "What?" he growled.

"Yeah, they were at the meet," Harry said as he bit into the chicken. He chewed and swallowed. "They came to watch us. Them and Peter Parker."

"You met Peter Parker?"

Harry looked up at his dad. His father lightly clutched on the chair beside him, looking lost. His father's eyes fluttered, trying to overcome the knowledge he received. It was a delicious moment for Harry to see his father stunned by the revelation.

But his father regained his composure. His sharp eyes back to him. "What was he like?"

"Who? Captain America?"

"No!" Norman spat, fingers curled into fists. "Parker! What was he like?"

Harry lowered is fork. Peter? Why did his father care about what Peter was like? "He's… I don't know. Fine, I guess. A bit awkward, but once you get past it, he's nice. Smart too."

"What else?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "I only met with him for an hour. What's the big deal?"

Norman said nothing to him. He disregarded Harry as he walked around the counter in thought. He ran a hand down his face and muttered something incoherently.

Harry was about to ask his father if he was all right when Norman headed straight for the door in long strides. "I gotta go," he said to Harry. "Get some work done at the office."

"It's nearly ten," Harry said, checking the clock. "Can't you wait—"

Norman didn't stop to listen. He strode right out of the kitchen. He heard his father bark orders to Hammond and a few minutes later, Harry heard the familiar sound of a door opening and slamming shut.

Harry resigned, dropping his head in his hand as he poked around his dinner. What did he expect? Some quality father-son time? As he picked at his food, Harry envisioned living as a hero, fighting crime and teaming up with the Avengers to save the world. He dreamed of his father, beaming up at him and yelling, "That's my boy!" He fantaized fighting alongside Captain America, Thor and Hulk, taking down the bad guys down and having girls fawn over him.

Well, one girl in particular.

"Sir?"

Harry jerked from his day-dreaming to find Hammond standing over him. "Sir?" Hammond tried again. "Are you done or do you wish to continue poking the meet to ensure it really is dead?"

Harry scowled at the low joke and shoved the plate to Hammond. "Yeah, I'm full," he said and he hopped out of his chair and sprinted to his bedroom.

He flopped on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. If only dreams could become realities, he thought. Then, his father would be more like Captain America.

Harry snorted. That was never going to happen.

His phone beeped and glowed from inside his pocket. Harry dug it out and checked his screen. One new message.

He opened it and smiled. It was from Peter Parker. It read: Hey! This is Peter. Just making sure I got the right number.

Harry typed: Yep. This is Harry Osborn. The one and only. He paused in his typing. Will you be able to go to Ned's house this weekend?

And the two continued chatting until they decided to link in Ned to their conversation. Harry stayed up late into the night, texting Ned and his newfound friend, Peter Parker.