Chapter Thirty-Eight

Resurgum

The funeral was a quick, dour affair.

Then again, I guess not many people liked Norman Osborn.

Peter sat still and silent beside me as the priest spoke. He didn't speak when we first showed up at the gravesite, during the procession, or when Mr. Jameson, another guest, gave him a short, actually humble, hello.

He still hadn't told me everything that happened the night Goblin attacked him, Harry, and Gwen.

Harry was in better condition, if only slightly. Since he and Spider-Man were the only two to witness his father go up in flames, he seemed awfully stoic. Then again, he also learned that Chameleon, a face-changer, had been masquerading as his father for some time. It made it easier for the real Norman Osborn to become the Green Goblin.

What I didn't know of the events were filled in by news coverage, which happened to be the only thing the news wanted to cover, anyways. They hadn't gotten the part where Norman was the Green Goblin, but everything else was there for the world to learn about. How he attack OSCORP tower, how he and Spider-Man fought across rooftops, the hidden stores of bombs kept all over the place, and how one of them ended up as the Goblin's demise.

Irony, as it were.

Gwen held Harry's hand the whole time. But she looked at Peter as she did so. They exchanged looks every now and then, and I could only wonder what I missed that night at her house, when Harry admitted everything.

I still felt terrible for missing it. I wondered what would've happened had I been there. Had I been at OSCORP tower. Would I have been able to protect Harry? Would I have stopped him from witnessing his father's death? Could we have brought the Goblin to justice?

It didn't matter, really. Just pointless questions. I knew what I would've done, had I been given a second chance. Had I known where Mayor Waters true motives lied.

It had been surprisingly easy. One day I was unconscious in a boat driven by a mysterious man who knew my name — the next I was waking up in a hospital, to the news, on which Mayor Waters was walking down the steps of City Hall in handcuffs, being stuffed into a police car while being hounded by reporters.

Apparently, someone had recorded her full confession while she had faced me on the boat. Maybe it was Kane. Maybe it was the man who saved me. Whoever it was, they had done their job.

When I had asked the nurse who brought me to the hospital, she described a man in his mid-forties, tall, stoic, and kind of handsome. She had assumed he was my father. She didn't get the chance to ask; he had disappeared shortly after I was placed on a gurney and rushed to the emergency room.

My suit had been too ripped up to identify me. No boots, no gloves, no helmet. The doctors assumed I was some crazy diver trying to pull a stunt in a Hudson that went horribly awry.

I let them think that.

Peter and Aunt May showed up some time later to check on me. I wasn't ready to leave, which meant I got an earful about responsibility and fear and I nearly had another heart attack don't do that to me again young lady.

Now I had to call her on a regular basis. Once a day, at least. It wasn't as bad as I thought; with the Goblin gone and the Rose (both of them) scattered and on the run from a very interested FBI team, my job on the streets had become much easier. I had plenty of time to consider my next move.

Kane was gone. Vanished. Probably to some faraway island in the middle of the Caribbean. But the FBI were still looking for her, after Mayor Waters confessed.

I hoped she got my package.

Now I could take a few days off and enjoy the early spring weather. The last of the snow was finally melting away, and grass was starting to grow. There was a fresh scent in the air, the first warning sign for people with allergies. Life had returned to New York City.

It gave an almost hopeful presence at the funeral; something I wasn't sure was appropriate or not. Although Norman Osborn was dead, Harry knew he was never the Goblin, that he had been framed by his own father, and wasn't afraid to admit the truth that Norman Osborn was not a good man.

And yet, I couldn't help but feel surprised when Harry eventually said, "Spider-Man could've saved him."

We were standing over the grave, freshly buried. Harry laid down a rose, on top of the pile left by the other guests. He remained still, clinging to Gwen, and I exchanged looks with Peter as Harry continued, "My father was sick. He needed help. Why didn't Spider-Man see that?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Gwen murmured.

But Harry just shook his head, clenched his fists. "It's just not fair. He didn't deserve to die."

What could we say to that? I kind of disagreed but, you know, speaking ill of the dead and all. Osborn and the Goblin were gone. There was nothing left to it.

Harry just sighed, and turned to embrace Gwen in a hug. "Thanks for being here for me, Gwen. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Her reply was supportive, but the look she gave Peter over Harry's shoulder was an apologetic one. I still had no idea what exactly was said that night at her house, but I was guessing it wasn't just about Harry.

When we departed, I asked Peter, "What happened back there? I thought you and Gwen were, I don't know, supposed to be honest with each other."

"We were," Peter shrugged helplessly. "I broke up with Liz, and she wanted to do the same with Harry, but…well, it seems kind of cruel to do that now, I guess. It wouldn't be fair. And after what I did…"

I pressed a hand to his arm. "It's not your fault. It was just an accident. Norman died because of his own actions, not yours."

"Yeah? Well, it doesn't really feel that way, to me. Harry blames me. Well, Spider-Man. He hates him. How am I going to fix that?"

"I don't know." I didn't like admitting it, but it was the truth. We came upon the sidewalk, stepping over puddles and unbuttoning our jackets. It was getting too warm for them already. "I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens next."

"I hate it when you say things like that,"

"You're not the only one."

Peter just sighed, shaking his head. "Okay, I can't keep thinking about this right now. Tell me what happened about the guy that saved your life."

"Not much," I said, feeling for the photograph I had folded into my pocket. I drew it out, carefully. "Except for this. I knew I recognized him from somewhere."

Peter raised an eyebrow, taking the photograph without question. Unfolding it, he took one look and stopped in his tracks. He stared at me. "But…this is your mom and…"

"My dad." I said, taking the photo back, glancing at the two teens in the photograph. My mother and the blond boy, both smiling, happy. No idea what was going to happen to them. "I know. He's still alive."

"But…how?"

"I don't know." I said, putting the photograph back in my pocket. "But I'm going to find him."

On an island somewhere in the Carribean…

Oriole Kane lounged on a chaise by the poolside, the glittering see in the distance. The hot, humid air was a lovely change from the cool March weather she was used to in New York. The sun beamed down at her, warm and inviting, as exotic birds called over her head. Palm trees swayed on a light breeze.

So far away from any trouble, she didn't have a single worry that any of it would reach her. How could it? No one could find her here, and Mayor Waters was still under her thumb; Kane had paid too much to lose that woman's loyalty.

And after watching the last nuisance in her life go up in flames, Kane could drink her mimosa in peace.

Flipping through TIME magazine, Kane's attention was disrupted by a shadow falling over her.

"Package for you, ma'am."

She looked up, peering over her sunglasses at the tray presented before her. The servant looked a little nervous as she took the small, brown-paper-wrapped box and placed it in her lap, undoing the twine. What was this? It didn't look like any of her business work, and Kane had specifically told her secretary not to give anyone her address while she was on vacation.

And yet, here it was. Maybe Kane ordered something and forgot about it? Unlikely, but possibly.

She unwrapped the packaging to reveal a plain box inside. Opening it, Kane dug her hand into the tissue paper. Her fingers grazed against cool, smooth metal and glass.

When she took it out, Kane froze. Gold-plating. Pearl face. Lovely.

A watch.

The watch.

Kane just stared, her mouth falling open. No…

How?

"Uh, Miss Kane," the servant stuttered, calling her attention back to him, this time her face pulled into a scowl. He raised a shaking finger to something behind her. "You have, er, guests."

"What?" Kane looked over her shoulder, stunned to see two men standing in the doorway of her patio, wearing identical blue jackets.

They both pulled badges out of their pockets. "FBI. You're under arrest, Oriole Kane."

Kane did nothing as they approached with handcuffs, could only stand numbly. As her wrists were pulled behind her back, she grit her teeth, and one of the agents smirked. "Guess you shoulda picked a country with better extradition laws, huh?"

"We've got a lot of questions." The second said. "In particular, about a certain man named the Kingpin…"

No, how I managed it wasn't legal, what I did. Let's just say I pretended to be someone I wasn't to get something I shouldn't have.

It was too late by the time the Doc found out, and I stood through the lecture because, well, I hadn't had enough of those lately — also it was too late anyways. The package was already on its way to Kane.

Matt was a little more impressed, and I was glad for the approval, especially considering I didn't have to hurt anyone (or myself) to prove it. I got to watch on the TV at Nelson & Murdock the live footage as Oriole Kane was brought back to US soil in handcuffs, flanked by sunburned FBI agents.

"I have to admit," Foggy said, leaning against Karen's desk and grinning smugly as we watched. "That is one of the most satisfying things I've ever seen. How often do you learn that a major CEO of a multi-million dollar company is also the head of a dangerous mob?"

"I heard they're going into the NYPD and the city councilboard members," Karen added, smiling as well. "Waters had a full list of names of everyone working for Kane and the Rose. Now they're just cleaning up shop."

"The FBI must be having a field day," Matt added, looking fairly pleased himself. I had a feeling he had something to do with all the names of collaborators released to the public. "I expect the city's going to be a pretty different place after this."

"If only they got that Kingpin guy, too," I muttered.

"Hey, one thing at a time," Matt rested a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "Good work was done this week. We should be happy this happened."

I remembered the concern he had when I got back to him after the boat exploded; he still felt guilty for unwittingly sending me into a deadly trap, and being unable to save me. I told him about the man who had, but left out the part about my theories of his relation to me. Matt was probably trying to make it up to me now, wanting me to feel positive. I smiled, appreciating the effort.

"Happy?" Foggy snorted. "Concerned is more like it. I can't believe Amy was right about police corruption. Can you believe how many cops they arrested? Over a hundred! That's how massive and powerful the Rose was. Or maybe they still are. Who knows how many people they still got out there."

"Well, they have a lot less now," Karen pointed out, raising her eyebrows. "Especially now that the FBI is coming down on them with all they have. I think Matt's right; this is good. I say we go for drinks after —"

The sound of the door opening behind us interrupted Karen, and we all turned around to see a woman step into the office. She was about middle-aged, curly red hair tied into a bun, and severe-looking face.

"Uh, can we help you?" Karen asked, blinking in surprise while the rest of us exchanged confused looks.

"Yes, I'm looking for an Amelia Fletcher. I was told she works for Nelson & Murdock." The woman nodded, her hands stuffed in her beige trench coat. There was something very clean, very professional about her that made me shift nervously on my feet. What was she looking for me for?

"That's us," Matt said.

"And that's me." I added, stepping forward slightly. I frowned at the woman. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"This is about your mother," The woman said, shuffling for something in her pocket.

"My mother?" I blinked, surprised. I glanced at Matt. "Did you say anything?"

"What? No," Matt frowned at me, looking just as bewildered as I felt. "I didn't contact anyone. I have no idea who she is."

"Don't look at me, either," Foggy said, holding up his hands.

"It's fine, Amelia, I came looking for you on my own." The woman replied, pulling out a black wallet from her pocket. She held it out, and it fell open. A badge.

The woman said, "I'm Agent Forrester. I'm from Witness Protection."

The End

Well, that's it! Thanks for reading this entire goddamn fic, as well as the other one. Unless you didn't read the first one. In which case you're probably really confused. I don't know what you expected.

Anyways, just wanted to end it there, have a nice little twist to finish the story. Guess Amy's mother was hiding more than we thought :)

And, like last time, I'll leave you with a song that I think fits the theme of this story. Think of it like a credits song, if this were a movie or a show.

Song: Wildfire by DOROTHY

(I personally love this band. They don't have a lot of songs right now, but like all of them are pretty awesome.)

Anyways, thanks for reading! I hope you leave a final review, and tell me what you think of that ending!

There might also be a stinger scene after this *wink*

And if you liked these fics, don't forget to check out my other fic, Incandscent. It's Amelia's story, retold in a crossover of MCU and Amazing Spider-Man movies.