CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Family Business

It was about 3:30 in the afternoon when I returned home. Having stuffed my costume into my backpack, I sauntered into the house, dragging my feet along as I made my way to my bedroom. I was not having a good day, needless to say. Between that asshole that Angel calls her boyfriend, the newspaper article I had read, and the bank robbery I broke up on the way home (some idiot on skates calling himself the Rocket Racer decided to knock off a bank. He ended up skating face-first into my fist) I had experienced enough aggravation for one day. I just wanted to go to my room. I wanted not to be disturbed for the rest of the day. Naturally, that was not to be. As I entered my room and threw my backpack on the bed, my dad came out of his room and walked down to mine.

"Dad? What are you doing home so early?" I asked.

"Son, don't you remember what day it is?" he asked me.

I guess I was giving him one of those dumbfounded looks. He looked a little disappointed that I had forgotten that the day was...whatever it was.

"Rob, today we're going to see Aaron," my father said, his face portraying a bit of sadness.

I honestly had not remembered this. This was the wrong day for any of this, and my brother Aaron was the last person on Earth that I wanted to see.

"I don't remember you telling me that," I said, my tone sounding a bit angrier than I meant it to.

"Rob, I told you this two weeks ago. He needs to see us. And he misses you. You haven't spoken to him in months..."

"And I don't intend to! There's no point in talking to him about anything!"

"Not even your mother?"

My heart skipped a beat. I really wished he hadn't brought her up...

"What does she have to do with this?" I asked.

"Well, she's Aaron's mother too. He and I spoke about her passing a few times, but I think he would really like to discuss it with you. He's worried about you, Rob."

"Bullshit!" I exploded. "Aaron doesn't care about anybody but himself! Now we're supposed to show up and comfort him because he suddenly feels guilty? He turned his back on us, not the other way around!"

I began to close my bedroom door, but my father placed his hand on the door and looked me in the eye.

"You wouldn't even go for me?" he asked.

I paused, staring back at him, and then lowered my head.

"Come on, Dad, don't do this to me..." I begged.

"Son, if you won't go for Aaron, then go for me. Please. I cared deeply for your mother, just like you did. I just lost a part of my family, just like you did. And losing her...well...it reminds me of my own mortality. I'm not going to be here forever, Rob."

"Yeah, I know..." I said, turning away.

"Before I leave this life, I would like to at least see the rest of my family getting along. For all intents and purposes, Rhonda was still my wife. And she's gone now. I want to see my boys behaving as brothers should. If I could see that, I would die a happy man."

He paused, and we stood in silence for awhile. I stood silently with my back to him, contemplating what he had just told me.

"I realize it's selfish..." he began to say.

"It's not selfish, Dad..." I said as I turned to him. "Just...just give me a minute, okay?"

He paused for a moment, then he backed away from the door.

"Thank you, son," he said, and he walked back to his room.

I closed the door behind him and sat on my bed. There was entirely too much on my plate, and I hadn't even put the costume back on that long ago. It seemed like wearing it was only bringing me more problems. What I needed to do was sort things out and tackle my problems one at a time. On that note, I had remembered that I meant to call Tiffany. I reached for the phone and dialed her number.

"Hello?" she responded after the third ring.

"Hey Tif. You alright?" I asked.

"Oh, hey baby. I'm not feeling all that great," she replied.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing you want to hear about. Trust me. I just woke up real sick this morning. I've been feeling kinda tired all day. Did I miss anything important in school today?"

"Don't start me to lyin'. I was gone most of the day."

"Really? What happened?"

"Ugh...long story. Right now me and my dad are about to go...handle some family business. You want me to swing by later?"

"That would be great. You gonna use the door this time?" she asked with a chuckle.

"Nah, might be kinda late before I get back. I'll come in the usual way," I replied.

"Okay. I wanted to talk to you about something, anyway."

"Something important?" I asked, getting a little worried at the sound of that.

"Um...we'll talk about it later, 'kay?"

"Yeah...alright. See you then," I said as I hung up the phone.

My heart skipped a beat, and I was almost sure I could feel that tingling on the back of my neck again. I had no idea what Tiffany wanted to talk to me about, but whatever it was would have to wait until later. For the moment, I was about to see my brother, and I wasn't even sure that I was ready to do so.

Hours later...

There's something very strange about being inside of a prison. Even if you aren't the prisoner, and even if you aren't in a cell, it still feels...I dunno...claustrophobic. Like the walls are closing in on you, like there isn't enough air. I was almost surprised to have this feeling once I stepped foot in the building. I wanted to ask my dad if he knew what it would be like, but neither of us said a word the entire drive up to the prison. I wasn't even sure what I would say to Aaron once we got there, if anything.

Nothing in the prison was as I had expected it to be.. I expected one of those deals where Aaron would be on the other side of a window, talking to us through a telephone. I figured he'd have on one of those orange jumpsuits, or maybe one of those striped inmate uniforms from those old movies. I thought he would slowly inch his way into the room with his hands and feet in shackles. But after we went through the metal detector and signed a few papers, we were led to the visitors' room, and every expectation I had about the place proved to be wrong.

A few minutes after we sat down, we saw Aaron enter from a door on the other side of the room. He walked in, minus the shackles, wearing a white muscle shirt and a pair of blue jeans. His hair was braided, and the first thing I started to wonder was who the hell braided his hair in a prison full of men. He had a book in his hands, which I would realize as he walked toward us was the Holy Qu'ran. He walked toward the table, with no glass barrier between us. My dad arose and gave him a monstrous bearhug.

"It's good to see you, son," my father said. I simply remained in my seat as this happened.

"Good to see you too, Dad. How's everything?" my brother asked as he took a seat at our table.

"Oh, you know. The usual. Work and all that," my dad said with a big smile.

Aaron then turned toward me and punched me in the arm.

"Hey, little brother! No hug for me?" he asked.

"Who braided your hair?" I asked him.

"Say what?"

"There aren't any women in here. Who braided your hair?"

"Rob..." my dad bemoaned.

"Nah, it's cool, Dad. My girlfriend, Sarah, did it for me," Aaron replied.

"You have a girlfriend? When did this happen?" asked my father.

"I met her a couple months before I got locked up. She braided my hair the last time she visited."

"Wait, I'm confused. They let your girlfriend of a couple months come to visit you?" asked my father.

"Well, yeah, on account of she's pregnant with my...oh crap...I forgot to tell you about that, didn't I?" Aaron looked a little embarrassed at that point.

We were, needless to say, shocked.

"You got a girl pregnant?!"

In case you were wondering, my dad asked that question, and his voice was high enough to startle a couple of the guards.

"Uh...yeah. I meant to tell you, but uh..." Aaron stammered.

"But you knew I would kill you?" my dad replied.

"Somethin' like that.."

"Aaron, what are you going to do? The child will be fifteen before you even get out of here!"

"Well, maybe not," said Aaron. "My lawyer's trying to see what he can do to get my sentence reduced. With any luck, I might be able to get it reduced to as few as five years. I'm keeping my hopes up, you know?"

"I suppose." My dad glanced at the book in Aaron's hand. "What's this?"

"Oh, this?" Aaron said, handing him the book. "This is the Qu'ran."

"You're Muslim now?"

"I'm thinking about it. I spoke to a few of the guys in here. They gave me some literature to check out, spoke to me about a few things. I'm thinking it could help me get my life on track."

"Well, I'm certainly surprised to hear that. I'm glad you found something positive to do."

"Yeah. Dad, I tell you, I'm gonna do right. I'm gonna get out of here, I'm gonna marry Sarah, and I'm gonna take care of this baby. I'll make you proud, Dad. You'll see."

"That's great, son," my dad said with a smile. "The first step is to set a goal, so you're already on your way. Just remember, you have a lot of responsibilities to handle now."

"Yes, sir." Aaron turned to me. "You're awfully quiet over there, Rob. You mad at me or somethin'?"

"Don't have much to say," I replied.

"Look, I know I let you down. But I'm trying to turn things around. Don't you have at least a little faith in your big brother?"

"No."

"Well, I'll convince you sooner or later. I'm sure of it."

"Don't hold your breath."

"Rob, come on, this is your brother..." my dad said. I make it a point to say "my" dad, not "our" dad.

"My brother who sold the same poison that killed our mother," I replied.

At that, I could see a flash of rage in Aaron's eyes.

"Drugs didn't kill her," he said in a low, raspy tone. "Spider-Man killed her."

I'm positive my eyes flashed the same rage in that instant.

"No, he didn't," I replied in a low, subdued tone.

"Have you been reading the papers? Watching the news? The first few weeks anybody saw him, he did nothing but attack drug dealers. Makes sense that he would kill a recovering addict, doesn't it?"

"He fights crime. He protects people..."

"Name one person he's protected! Name one life he saved!"

"How about everybody in my school? Or did you not hear about that whole Electro thing?"

"Alright boys, enough!" demanded my dad. "I did not bring you hear to watch you bicker with one another."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm just having a little trouble getting over Mom's death, you know? I couldn't even come to the funeral..." said Aaron.

"You could have if you wanted to," I replied. "They let inmates attend a loved one's funeral. Did you even ask if you couldn't attend, or did you assume you couldn't?"

"I'm sure Aaron could have attended the funeral if he was able to. Let's not be so hard on him," said my father.

"I just wish I could have spoken to her one last time. I was hoping she'd get her life together. I was always so upset with her before, but the truth is, I know that I'm the one that disappointed her," said Aaron.

"I doubt that's the case, Aaron," my father said.

"I don't know. I always used to say she was a bad mother. Maybe it turns out that I was just a bad son..."

"No argument there," I interjected.

"What's that supposed to mean?" my brother asked.

"You're right. You were a bad son. And a bad brother. And odds are you'll be a bad father," I replied.

"I'm going to handle my responsibilities to my child..."

"Sure, the same way you handled your responsibilities to the rest of your family."

"What is it you have against me, Rob? Are you mad because I got locked up, or what? I'm trying to make everything better! Why can't you forgive me?"

"You broke your promise!" I yelled, prompting a guard to approach the table.

"Is everything alright here?" he asked.

"Yes, everything's fine," my dad replied. The guard nodded and went back to his post.

"Rob, what are you talking about? What promise?" asked my father.

"Why don't you tell him, Aaron?" I asked, looking my brother in the eye.

"I don't even know what you're talking about..." Aaron replied.

"Of course you don't," I said, still looking him in the eye. "When we were kids, the night Mom moved us out of the house and took us to Atco, I was sad because I didn't want to move in the first place, and you made a promise to me that night. You promised that you would never leave me, no matter what. You said I could always depend on my big brother."

Aaron was silent for a moment. He stared at the table for a few moments, then cleared his throat and finally looked back up at me.

"I'm sorry, Rob. I didn't mean to..."

"It doesn't matter anymore. We're grown men. That was just some stupid kid shit, right?"

"Rob, you're not being fair to Aaron," my father interjected.

"And he wasn't fair to me," I replied.

There was an awkward silence for the next few moments, and then my father and brother resumed their conversation. I had nothing else to say for the rest of the visit.

The car ride home would be just as quiet as the ride up to the prison. I think my dad felt a little better to have seen Aaron, but I guess he was disappointed in the way our conversation turned out. By the time we made it home, it was about eight o'clock. I remembered that I had to see Tiffany, so I needed to get my costume to make it there via the "express route". I started up the stairs when my father called me.

"Rob..." he said.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I'd like to do this again within a month or so. Next time, please try not to be so hard on your brother."

"...I'll try."

"He's really trying to make things right, Rob. Let's try to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"I'll try," I repeated. "I'm gonna get some sleep. Got a big test tomorrow," I blatantly lied.

"Alright. Goodnight, son."

Finally making it to my room, I closed the door and put on my costume. Having put on everything but my mask, I stared out the window at the night sky. There was a full moon. That never bodes well, in my opinion. Full moons always seem to bring out the worst in people. I suddenly had very a bad feeling about going out, but I wasn't going to let Tiffany down.

"Goddamn..." I cursed to myself before putting on the mask and climbing out of the window.

Within a few minutes I had gotten my momentum going and was swinging between the buildings with little effort. Which was good, because there was a lot on my mind and if I didn't know what I was doing I would have slammed into the side of a building by that point.

I swung in a wide arc, coming only a couple of feet off the ground before swinging upward again. I released the web and found myself soaring through the air. After a double backflip, I let off another web and yanked on it, propelling myself forward. I let go of the web and let myself freefall for a few seconds, then I grabbed a lamppost with one hand, turned to the right, and flew away from it, landing squarely on the side of Tiffany's apartment building. Crawling past a few windows, I finally found her window and tapped on it lightly. A few seconds later, Tiffany opened the window.

"Hey, pretty lady," I greeted her.

"Come in, quick," she said quickly and then backed away from the window. I jumped in the window, and she closed the curtain behind me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Tiffany turned and pointed toward her TV. There was a news broadcast on, with the words "Breaking News: Hostage Situation at Philadelphia Church" emblazoned at the bottom of the screen. I immediately recognized the church as it appeared on the screen.

"Oh no...Sharon Baptist..."

"Isn't that the church you go to?" asked Tiffany.

"Yeah, me and...oh God.."

"What?"

"I go to that church with Angel. She's not...?"

"No, she's not there," said Tiffany. "She called here looking for you. She said she called your house to tell you to turn to the news, but when you didn't answer, she called here to see if you were with me, and told me about this."

I felt relieved, but at the same time, I had to do something about this. I continued to watch as the reporter spoke.

"This situation has been going on for nearly two hours. Very little information is known. What we can verify is that an evening service at the church was interrupted by what witnesses have described as a large man with a purple hooded cloak. Witnesses say he attacked the pastor with what appeared to be some kind of stun gun, shocking him and knocking him unconscious. Also, he was said to be brandishing a large sword of some kind.

Once the police arrived, everyone in the church was allowed to leave with the exception of Pastor Keith Reed and his wife Patrice. The released hostages say that the suspect demanded that Spider-Man come to the church, and if he fails to do so, then he will kill the two remaining hostages. So far there has been no sign of the vigilante, who recently was revealed to be more than an urban legend and is currently sought for questioning in a murder investigation. The police have been posted outside of the church for about an hour and a half, now. We'll be sure to update you with further information as it develops."

"I have to get down there," I said, turning back toward the window.

"Wait, what are you going to do? And what's this about you and a murder?" asked Tiffany.

"Long story," I replied."I have to get down there and stop this guy."

I started to climb out of the window when Tiffany grabbed my arm.

"Rob...be careful, okay? You come back in one piece."

"It's just some guy. I'll take care of it."

"I know but...I have a bad feeling about this..."

"Nothing's gonna happen. I'll just knock him out and leave him webbed up for the cops, then I'll come back here. I promise."

"Okay...just remember, you and I still have to have that talk, okay?"

"You got it. I love you."

"I love you too, Rob," Tiffany said with a slight smile, though I could see in spite of the smile that she was very worried. I couldn't blame her.

I jumped out of the window and started to swing toward the church. As I made my way there, I couldn't help but shake this feeling of dread that had come over me. I understood why Tiffany was worried. Hell, I was worried too, and I didn't know why. As I ascended from a particularly big swing, I glanced at the moon one last time before firing another web and beginning to swing again.

"Hm...full moon..." I noted aloud.

After a few minutes, I found myself perched atop a building across the street from Sharon Baptist Church. There were police everywhere. It seemed that they were trying not to get too close to the building, which was good, as they had no idea what this guy's mental state was and somebody could end up provoking him into killing the pastor or his wife.

I backed up a few feet to give myself some distance, then I ran forward, jumped, and soared across the street until I landed on the side of the church. I wasn't sure whether or not any of the cops saw me, and I didn't really care. I would end this quickly. Crawling toward a window, I opened it slightly and quietly slipped inside.

Most of the lights were off. The only light in the room came from about a dozen candles that were lit at the far end of the church, in front of the pews. I crawled slowly and silently along the ceiling, staying in the shadows and making my way to the front of the church. As I crawled, I observed the area. Sure enough, there was a guy in a purple hooded cloak standing there, holding a really huge sword in his right hand. I mean, this thing was humongous. You ever play that game Soul Calibur? You know that one guy Nightmare, with the really big sword? Yeah, it was about that big, with a curved, serrated blade. Beside him, I could see Patrice Reed. She was tied to a chair and gagged. On the floor beside her was Pastor Reed. From the looks of it, he had been beaten up pretty badly. He arose to his feet and stood before the guy with the sword. The hooded figure took a step toward him.

"I'm impressed. You have quite a bit of tenacity," the guy in the hood said with an inhumanly deep voice.

"Do what you want to with me, but let my wife go..." the pastor demanded.

The guy in the hood responded by hitting him with a vicious left backhand, knocking him back to the ground.

"No, I don't think so. I demanded that Spider-Man show up, and he didn't. That means you both have to die. But because you put up such a valiant effort to defend your wife, I'll spare you the agony of having to watch her slow, painful death," said the man in the hood.

He raised his sword above his head and prepared to strike down on Pastor Reed.

"You get to die first," he said as he swung downward.

Too bad for him, he didn't have anything to swing downward with. I fired a webline at the sword and yanked it out of his hands, tossing it toward the back of the church. Everyone in the room looked up in my direction. As far as I could tell, Pastor and Mrs. Reed couldn't see me, but the guy in the cloak, despite the oversized hood that hid his face, seemed to be looking right at me.

"Nobody in here is going to die," I said before dropping to the floor. I was standing about ten feet away from everybody at this point.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come," the man in the hood replied. His voice, deep as it was, sounded vaguely familiar to me.

"Let them go," I demanded. "You wanted me, now I'm here. Hand over your other weapon and let these people leave."

"Other weapon? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Spider-Man."

"They said you had a stun gun."

"Oh, right. That..."

In the blink of an eye, the guy in the hood was standing directly in front of me. I was shocked at his speed.

"No, that wasn't a stun gun..." he said as he placed his hand on my chest.

My danger sense flared up for a split second, and then I felt a shock. My body arched back, and I screamed in pain as an electric pulse went through my body. Eventually I was propelled away from my attacker and flew back a few feet. I landed on the ground and groaned in pain.

"That was me," the hooded figure said as he clenched his now smoking fist.

The hooded man looked over his shoulder at Pastor Reed.

"I'm a man of my word. You and your wife may go now," he said.

I started to rise to my feet, and as I did, I saw Pastor Reed untying his wife. They both ran down the aisle, with Mrs. Reed running past me and exiting the building. Pastor Reed stopped and turned to me.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Don't worry about that. Just get out of here," I replied.

The pastor complied and followed his wife out of the building. I heard the door shut behind me seconds later, and now the hooded man and I found ourselves in a staring contest.

"Neat trick," I said in regards to electrocution I had just suffered. "What's your story?"

"Oh, that? It was just a little something I was toying with. I just couldn't get it quite right. I can't fire bolts of electricity or anything like that. I can only charge it through my fingertips and shock whatever I'm touching."

"You sound disappointed."

"Well, somewhat. I can't even produce as much voltage as Electro could."

At the sound of that name, my eyes widened under my mask.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"Oh Spider-Man, come now. Must we have this conversation every time we meet? Let me clarify things for you."

With that, the hooded man ran toward me and hit me with a haymaker. I flew back several feet before performing a midair backflip and landing on my feet. I slid back a few inches and then stood back up.

"What the hell are you?" I asked.

"Why, I'm my own greatest invention."

The man reached up and grabbed his hood. With one pull he removed his cloak and threw it aside. I recognized him instantly. The green skin, the glowing yellow eyes, the fangs and the claws. It was the creature I had met months before.

It was Norman Osborn.

"You...what have you done to yourself...?" I asked.

"I told you before, Jordan, you were just the experiment. I, however, am the end result," Osborn replied.

I clenched my fists and walked toward him.

"Obsorn..." I growled. "I've been meaning to do this for a long time..."

Without a moment's hesitation, I hit Osborn in his scaly green jaw with a right hook. His head snapped back, and much to my surprise he simply turned back toward me and flashed a toothy grin.

"Not too bad, Jordan. You were an adequate prototype, but now that my experiment has reached its new phase, I'm afraid I'm going to have to dispose of you. No point in keeping evidence around, you know."

Osborn retaliated with a right punch to my chest. I flew backwards and hit the ground again.

"You think I'm gonna let you toy with me any longer? You're crazier than I thought. It ends here, Osborn," I said as I stood back up.

"Do me one favor, Spider-Man. Let's forgo the use of real names here, shall we? You chose your name, and I chose one of my own. You see, I like to give all of my experiments codenames. Yours was Arachnid, after the Arachnid Project. There were also the Lizard and Electro Projects. Well, I codenamed my own little experiment Project: Rebirth. But after seeing the end results, I think I've come up with an even better name for myself."

Osborn grabbed me by the chest with both hands and began to electrocute me again. He cackled like the mad scientist he was as the voltage pulsed through my body.

"Green Goblin..."

END OF CHAPTER SEVENTEEN