Howdy folks! I'm back! First of all, I suggest you go back and re-read the first 6 chapters because I edited them. The major change was the addition of the 'Evil Norman Voice', something that is a very important aspect to his character. I originally left it out because I figured that it wasn't really needed. After going back and re-reading what I wrote, I decided to add it in to help add more inner-turmoil to Norman, especially on the subject of Alandra.
To add to that, I will also be doing a chapter entirely about Norman's relationship with Harry's mother, which will explain out his skewed views of woman and how Alandra is affecting them. Also, the first chapter 7 I posted here will become a later chapter. I've decided to do a few things first before the Goblin and Spidey get reacquainted.
And now... on with the story! And also, don't forget to leave a review. I love to hear, or read rather, your thoughts.
Chapter 7: Harry's Memories
Harry sat alone in the Osborne mansion. He was seated in the main living room in a plush recliner. He gazed unblinking at a large screen TV with a glass of brandy in hand. It had been dark for several hours, and his drinking had begun long before sunset. He had many things on his mind. His attention focused, however, on three things: his ever-growing obsession with Spider-Man, his newly resurrected father who also happened to be a masked super-villain, and finally the unwanted visit from Tony Stark.
Harry's obsession with Spider-Man started the moment he saw the masked 'hero' holding his father's lifeless body. At the time, he was too shocked to really think straight. By the time the funeral came around, his brain started to function normally, somewhat, and he began reliving that night over and over again. Each night there was always something different. The differences were minor but they had a lasting effect on him. Yet, there was one that reoccurred sometimes. It was the dream that disturbed him the most. It was the dream that held the answer to all of his fears and wishes. It was the dream that lead him to the discovery of the security tape...the tape that showed who Norman Osborne really was.
Harry entered his father's study after he hard a noise. Something in the back of his mind told him not to go in there. He tried to resist, but the pull was too strong. Upon entering, he saw Spider-Man holding onto someone. It took Harry a minute to register that fact in his brain, and about another thirty seconds to realize that it was his father being held.
"What are you doing in here?" he demanded, his voice harsh in a vain attempt to hide his fear. Spider-Man regarded him silently for a moment and then laid the body down on an oversized chair. Harry stared at his father, waiting for him to move or do something...anything. When nothing happened, he started to panic.
"What did you do?" he asked, his voice cracking with emotion. He moved forward while Spider-Man took a few steps back. "What did you do?" he repeated. Spider-Man retreated out the open window and was gone. Harry looked down at his father. He could clearly see the large gashes on his torso, and part of him knew he was long gone. The other part desperately wanted to shake him and see him sit with a grin on his face. Harry reached down and laid a shaky hand on his exposed shoulder. It was as he expected, cold.
"Oh God..." he murmured as he grasped the other shoulder. He gently shook him, looking for any sign. When nothing happened, he began shaking harder. "Dad, please wake up!" he pleaded as tears slid down his face. Finally he gave up and began to sob, knowing that his father, the only family he had, was dead. After several minutes, Harry turned away to leave. He walked half way to the door and stopped to look back one last time at his father, who should have still been there. But he wasn't. The body was gone.
"What in the hell..." Harry stammered as his panic began to rise once again. He spun quickly to escape the room and knocked into someone. He found himself looking face to face with his father.
"Hello Harry," he said. Harry screamed and stumbled backwards. He lost his footing and fell hard on his bottom. Norman looked down at him and shook his head sadly.
"Your...dead! This isn't happening!" Harry yelled as he scooted away from Norman. He backed into the side of the chair Norman's body had been on, and looked around desperately for a way to escape. He placed his right hand on the floor and felt that there was something spilled there. He brought his hand to his face and screamed again. It was covered in blood; the same blood that was dripping from the wounds on his father.
"I won't deny that I'm dead, but this is happening Harry. And I need you to do something for me," he said in a cold, dead voice. Harry sat on the floor in a daze. He mumbled something and Norman took it as a sign to continue. "In the desk dower there is a tape. It will...explain...some things to you." Norman then began to laugh, and Harry stared on in fear.
'That laugh...I've heard it before...' was his last thought before he woke up screaming.
Harry tried to ignore the dream, but he had it again and again. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the body standing in front of him. He could almost feel the blood. Finally, after the funeral and a week without sleep, he snapped. He tore into his fathers study and began pulling out all the dowers. It didn't take him long to find the tape. He sat there for a long time and stared at it, deciding what to do. Eventually, he watched the tape, and for a long time wished he hadn't. The tape was the security footage from the night Norman experimented on himself. He killed the assisting doctor and then took off with the suit and glider.
In a way, Harry could understand why Spider-Man did what he did. The Green Goblin several killed people and kidnapped Mary Jane. The Goblin was an evil person, no doubt. But, no matter what evils he committed, Harry still viewed him as his father. There again, Harry and his father had never rally been close. Not since his mother…no he wouldn't think about that. Norman had been there for him when Mary Jane left him. He told him the truth about her, even if he didn't want to believe most of it. It was that moment when Harry forgave him for everything. All that mattered was that he and his father was together. But then, when everything was starting to change, Spider-Man had taken him away. That's why he had to pay with his life.
His next problem was a little more difficult. Harry had no idea how to handle his father. He couldn't keep him closed up in Oscorp forever. He knew that eventually, the Green Goblin would go after Spider-Man. Harry didn't have a problem with that, he just didn't want anyone to know that Norman Osborne was 1) alive and well, and 2) the masked villain known as the Green Goblin. He also needed to ensure that he was out of the way, so to speak, for the upcoming visit.
He wasn't nervous about meeting Tony Stark at all. He had heard great things about the man from many people. He was nervous about having Tony Stark in the same room as Alandra Detrick, which was his third and most important problem. He needed to find a way to convince her to be on her 'best behavior', whatever that was. She was a loose cannon at best and had proved that several times with dealing with his father. He didn't know what happened to make her hate Stark as she did, and frankly he didn't really care. He just needed her to just act normal for once. Harry sat for another few minutes and finally let out an irritated sigh. He used his free hand to massage his temple.
'I can't stand this any longer! Maybe this will all go away in the morning.' He quickly downed the remaining contents of his glass and then took a long swig from the bottle. He stood up and stumbled off down the hall to his room with the bottle in hand. Somehow he managed to find his way to his bed where he passed out. The bottle fell from his hand and broke on the floor.
Harry woke up in the morning to find himself hanging half off the bed lying in a puddle of his own vomit. He gingerly picked himself up, noticed the broken brandy bottle on the floor, and shambled over to the mirror. He was startled by his appearance. His eyes were bloodshot. The dark circles under them only make his skin paler. His usually crisp clothing hung off him and was horribly wrinkled while his hair, sticky from the vomit, stuck out wildly in every direction. After a few minutes he smirked slightly, making him look remarkably like his father for a short instant.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," he whispered to himself with a snort, his voice strong and normal. However, his eyes betrayed him: they were those of a tired and broken young man.
