Just as Peter said, Aunt May seemed pleased to have someone else to cook for. A grin had appeared on her face the moment he'd mentioned that Andrew was going to be staying for dinner.
"So, you said you were a friend from school?" Aunt May asked Andrew as she set down their plates of food.
Andrew's eyes darted over to Peter for a moment. "Friend" was a strong word in his opinion, but he wanted to gauge Peter's reaction before he corrected her.
"Yeah, I knew him from school. We had a couple classes together," he answered.
"How come you've never mentioned him?" Aunt May pressed as she looked at Peter, whose mouth was stuffed with food.
Peter swallowed quickly. "He was only there for a couple weeks," he replied, somewhat defensively. Andrew nodded in confirmation.
"What school did you move to?" Aunt May asked. Peter looked towards Andrew curiously.
Andrew decided to try to be as truthful as possible. "I- we- didn't go back. My sister and I," Andrew explained, "kind of got pulled out of school due to a family emergency. We haven't had the time to go back and I'm not sure if that will be possible anytime soon."
"Oh," Aunt May said, surprise evident on her face, "well, I hope everything works out for you and your family. Do they live close by?" she asked conversationally.
Andrew once again quickly looked at Peter before answering. "They uh- they're all gone now. It's just my sister and I."
"Just the two of you? How are you afford-" Aunt May cut herself off. "That's very independent of the both of you."
Peter's expression changed to mock betrayal, "I'm an independent person," he mumbled as he shoved the last bit of food into his mouth.
"Yes, yes. Of course you are," she replied absently.
"We've had to be." Andrew shrugged and finished his last bite. He knew that Aunt May wasn't trying to be nosy, she was just a caring person. "Thanks for dinner. It was really good."
"Thank you, Andrew." Aunt May got up and started taking their plates.
"Hey, I can do the dishes," Peter said.
Aunt May playfully smacked his hand with a dish rag as he went to pick up his plate. "Nonsense, you have a guest over," she smiled.
Peter got up from the table, Andrew copying him a moment later.
"Are you two going anywhere, Peter?" Aunt May asked as she began filling up the dishwasher.
"Oh- um- I don't think-" he stammered.
"We never did get to go skateboarding that one day," Andrew pointed out.
Peter furrowed his brow, slightly narrowing his eyes as if he was remembering something that bothered him. Andrew brushed it off as Peter must have been annoyed that he had been ditched that one day.
"Yeah, wow, nearly a year ago..." Peter huffed and ran a hand through his hair.
Andrew began to fidget with the phone in his pocket, feeling like he may have been a little too forward with them. They were his family and he grew up with them, but they didn't know him yet. It was just too interesting getting to know his father in this time, before he'd been weathered by so much tragedy.
"Tonight's probably not a good night, but uh," Peter took out his cell phone, "just shoot me a text when you're not busy this week. What's your number?"
Andrew proceeded to pull out his cell too. "I actually have no idea." He shrugged as Peter gave him a questioning look. "New phone."
"Oh, well, here," Peter gestured for Andrew's phone, "I'll just put my number into your's then."
"Cool," Andrew nodded as Peter passed his phone back to him. "Thanks again for the food," he called to Aunt May.
Just before he put the phone in his pocket, he saw Violet had texted him: "At the mansion, the guest house should be fine."
"You're welcome. Hopefully I get to see more of you," she smiled warmly at Andrew.
Andrew gave a small wave to the both of them. As he shut the door behind him, a gush of wind behind him caused him to sway on his feet for a moment. He turned around, ready to walk down the steps and start his next task, when he stepped on something that crinkled. When he looked under his shoe, he saw that it was just an empty pop tart wrapper.
Violet was happy to see that the guest house at the Osborn mansion was still being unused, and that she still had the spare key on her. She opened the door and went inside. Any of their belongings they had forgotten the day they time jumped forward were gone. She expected no less.
They were going to have to go shopping soon.
Just as Violet was about to text her brother that staying in the guest house was still the plan, a shadow passed by one of the windows. Violet inhaled sharply and ran up to the window, just barely parting the blinds to see.
A woman with a black backpack was stealthily making her way up to the back of the mansion. She stopped at a lower window and tried opening it, but to no avail. She tried several more windows and finally found one that opened. The woman in all black took one last look around and slipped through into the house.
Violet bit her bottom lip. She knew she should check out what this woman was up to. It just struck her as odd that the woman didn't want to break any of the windows; there was nobody else here to hear her. Then again, she didn't want to jeopardize their place to stay at for the time.
With a loud exhale, Violet decided she was going to follow the woman.
The window was left open, so Violet slid inside, landing quietly on her feet. She half smiled as she looked around; her family had lived in this house for nearly a year. Harry Osborn had left nearly everything to her father in his will, this mansion included. For that one short year, they had been a family: her, her father, Andrew and their half-brother Normie, Harry and Felicia.
It had not been easy living there at first. Peter and Felicia bickered with each other constantly, though that was the least of their worries. Everyone had to deal with the things they had done while on Stryker's island. Harry has been the worst of all of them: waking up in the middle of the night, his yelling reaching all ends of the mansion. Andrew, too, was sometimes inconsolable. Violet tried her best to help both her brother and father get through the hard times, and Felicia and Peter would help Harry.
Except when he didn't want to be helped, that is.
Every now and then, the Goblin would make an appearance. Although 'fond' wouldn't be the correct term, the Goblin no longer tried to harm any ofthem. However, that didn't stop him from trying to leave to cause mayhem and "have fun." Eventually, it was easier to tell when the Goblin was going to slip out, and Harry allowed Peter to put him on 'lockdown' for the day or two he wasn't in control. The Goblin would yell and threaten Peter, but he had never once hurt him since their time on the island. 'For Osborn's sake' he would tell them.
Because Harry Osborn was legally dead, it was hard for him to do practically anything in that city. They had spent that first year making sure everyone in their makeshift family was mentally, emotionally, and physically okay. When it was time, they moved to Toronto, Canada. Harry was able to freely move throughout the city without worry, and with a sincere promise from the Goblin, he too was able to leave freely.
The crime rate in Toronto was relatively low, which suited Peter and his family just fine. When Violet and Andrew turned thirteen, Peter allowed them to come out with him to scout the city, which grew to love their new super heroes. When they turned fifteen, they were able to scout by themselves. The five years in Canada were enjoyable for all of them. It was just after their sixteenth birthday that mutants and other super humans began disappearing...
Violet shook her head, ridding herself of that memory. Now wasn't the time to think of such things.
The hallway she was in led to what would later have been Andrew's bedroom. She headed that way until a sound in the other direction stopped her. Violet followed the noise, and paused when she got to a door that was slightly ajar. There was no way to see inside from this end, so she quietly made her way to the other side of the large room through the hallway. The other side of the room simply had an opening, which allowed Violet to peer around the wall in order to see inside.
There was a long table in the middle of the room. The intruder had her back turned towards Violet and her bag was set on top of the table. The woman pulled the hood down from her head, revealing black hair that matched her outfit. Violet waited.
What happened next surprised Violet. Instead of stealing something, the woman took out two large bottles out of her bag and set them in the middle of the table. She seemed to scrutinize them for a moment, and then slid one of the bottles over just an inch. Next, she walked over to an elegantly designed bureau and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. She seemed to know her way around.
When the woman turned back towards the table, Violet got a quick look at her face.
Felicia Hardy.
Felicia Hardy, who was nearly twenty years younger than the last time Violet had seen her. She looked to be in her early twenties.
Violet gasped and pulled her head back from the door opening.
Crap. She had to have heard me, Violet thought.
She waited another moment before peeking around the corner again. Felicia was gone.
Curious, Violet walked up to the table. The glass bottles were identical, with labels that read, Johnnie Walker Blue Label Blended Scotch Whiskey. The piece of paper had just one word written on it: Harry.
She smiled and shook her head. She had snuck in after Felicia thinking that she was there to rob the place, but instead she had left a gift. It still struck her as odd that Felicia snuck in instead of just giving the bottles to Harry in the first place.
Oh well. She sent a quick text to her brother, informing him that they should be able to stay in the guest house.
Someone cleared their throat behind Violet and she froze.
"Are you here to rob me?" the person asked calmly.
Violet spun around and Harry Osborn was standing in the open doorway, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"What?" she asked in a high-pitched tone. Exactly how did she not hear him come in!
Harry smirked. "Because if you are, you're going to be pretty disappointed. I don't keep any of my money here. Although, take any painting you want. I'm sure the cheapest one will catch you a couple grand."
Violet stared at him with wide eyes as he casually walked around her and pulled out a chair as if he were going to sit down. Instead, his hand reached forward and grabbed the paper. He set it down just as quickly.
"Those from you?" Harry gestured to the bottles as he walked over to the bureau and grabbed two empty glasses.
"N-no," Violet replied. Harry once again gave her a curious look as he opened up one of the bottles. She contemplated just leaving. Just turning around without another word and booking it out of there.
"Hm," Harry said nothing as he quickly knocked back a small glass he poured himself. "Want one?" he asked her.
She shook her head. Harry bit his lip and sat down on the chair he previously pulled out. He angled the chair so he was facing her. Violet took a step back. Harry narrowed his eyes as he looked thoughtfully at her, drumming his fingers on the side of his glass.
"I didn't break in to steal from you."
Harry smirked, "But you did break in?"
"No, I-" Violet exhaled loudly. "I thought someone else was breaking in. They came in through a window, so I followed them. But, it turns out they were just leaving those." She pointed to the bottles of scotch on the table.
Harry nodded, but kept that smirk on his face, which made Violet feel as if he was just humoring her.
"So you just happened to see someone climbing in the window and decided that you were going to be able to stop them?" He laughed, finishing his second glass. Violet noted his teeth were now perfect and straight, no longer sharp and deadly. His hand was also shaking slightly as he drank.
"I-" She had no idea what to say, so she changed the subject instead. "How come you haven't called the police yet?"
"I recently got some bad news, which is catching up to me," he set the glass down on the table and folded his hands in his lap, "and I don't feel like dealing with that right now."
Violet frowned but said nothing.
"Looks like you caught me on the right day," he said through a tight-lipped smile.
"I'm... sorry," Violet started towards the door. "I'm going to go now."
Harry held his hand out towards the door. "By all means," he said, and poured himself another drink.
Violet stopped walking when she got to the doorway and took a look behind her. Harry had his head held in his hands, and was staring down at his now empty glass.
The first time she had ever met the person in front of her was in a burning building when she was ten. His plan had been to murder them to hurt their father. It had actually been the Goblin, not Harry Osborn, she found out later. And now, he was part of their family.
The person in front of her was not their Harry, but he would be in time. He was still Harry though, and he was in pain.
"Are you okay?" Violet asked. She knew she shouldn't be here right now, interacting with the people in their lives like this. She should leave. Right now.
Harry looked up, giving her an incredulous look. He looked like he was about to say something snarky, but then changed his mind.
"No," he murmured, "I'm not."
Violet shut the door.