Well, it has been a little while since this story was last updated. And in the meantime, the movie "Avengers: Age of Ultron" came out. It was a rather entertaining film. I approved of some parts (like Hawkeye's scenes and what we learned about his life), I was sad at other parts (like what happened to Jarvis), and I was mildly surprised/confused by yet other parts (like Bruce and Natasha). And I definitely enjoyed Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver when they were brought in. They couldn't really mention Magneto or mutants or anything like that, but they still did a good job with their origin story for the movies. Overall I enjoyed what I saw, even if I'm a little concerned about how there are already hints of how it'll lead to the events of "Captain America: Civil War."
In regards to how much of the revealed information from the film makes it into this story eventually and becomes relevant, that's a little uncertain. I liked Clint's home life and I found what we learned about Natasha's background to be logical, but my story is current set before the events of "Avengers." So there is certainly some time before anything from the latest film has to be incorporated or ignored.
Anyway, time for another update. I hope you enjoy it.
Between his eyes and the four cameras directed towards what he considered to be the junk corner of the warehouse, Otto could watch the girl's reaction from a variety of angles. So far, only the top of her head was visible past the half-rotten wooden crate. Her short, sandy-blonde hair from before was covered by the hood of her oversized grey jacket, but her dark blue eyes were easily visible.
Shock, fear, curiosity, and nervousness were all clear in her expression as she stared at him. She definitely reminded him of a frightened animal. If she was truly a stray cat like he'd assumed before their first encounter, Otto imagined that her back would be arched, her ears flattened, and her fur raised. She was extremely tense and scared of being spotted, but she was still there. The child stood there stiffly, ready to run at any second. And yet she forced herself to remain.
"girl scared, why, not hurting or attacking her," Mo chirped.
"yet," clicked Harry. "girl still could be dangerous"
"too small, too weak, too quiet, too young, no danger from her," chittered Flo, curling low to the ground.
The child's eyes flickered towards the actuators when they moved abruptly or made a sound, but she didn't seem to be excessively afraid of them. Her fear seemed to be more focused on him or possibly just adult men in general. Or maybe she was scared of all people. Without a better sample size than just himself, Otto couldn't tell for certain. It did, however, strengthen his belief that whatever home life she may have once had was a poor one. It also made him suspect that she would be cautious about getting too close to him, but she might be curious enough about the actuators and hungry enough that he could keep her from immediately running back out into the storm if he was careful.
"How about we make it simple? You come out from behind there and we'll move the sandwich closer to you," he said in a calm and soothing voice. "You don't have to come all the way over here. Just step out far enough for me to see you. Does that sound fair?"
Her brief hesitation made Flo click encouragingly at the hidden child. But after a few moments, the girl's head bobbed in a small nod of agreement. With hesitation and cautious movement, the child took a slow step out.
He'd noticed her hair before and the ragged state of her outfit, but little more than that during their first encounter. This time, he took a better look at her clothes. The grey jacket was completely soaked and oversized for her. It was clear that it originally belonged to someone else, someone older and taller. The thing could have served as dress for her if the zipper wasn't broken off. At least the rather large pockets would be useful to her.
Underneath was a worn t-shirt, the cheap kind that could have easily been turned into a souvenir for tourists by ironing on a logo. Originally it might have been black, but time and rough treatment faded it into a dark grey shade. It draped off her, once again suggesting she'd simply found a discarded piece of clothing and didn't care about the size.
From what he could see of what wasn't covered by the shirt and jacket, she was wearing a pair of jeans. Denim was a durable fabric and didn't wear out quickly, so her jeans didn't look quite as ragged as the rest of her outfit. But they were certainly baggy enough that he suspected she was either using a belt of some kind or she'd managed to alter them enough to stay on. If it was the latter, Otto would guess she used duct tape rather than sewing to achieve it since she'd apparently hemmed the legs with duct tape so she wouldn't trip over them.
As for her footwear, they were ancient and worn out sneakers that were also not her size, held together with duct tape, and likely belonged to someone else originally. Otto wasn't certain if she was stealing her clothes, snagging them from charities, or some other method, but they were certainly not from caring parents. She was definitely managing this on her own.
Otto still couldn't help thinking about a cat when he looked at her edge closer. Her stiff, slow, uneasy steps created the mental image of a small feline making the same movements. The quiet child reminded him so much of a tiny frightened kitten that wanted the offered food and yet feared the one making the offer. A look that was cute on a cat was heartbreaking on a little girl.
Flo picked up the waiting sandwich and slowly extended towards the approaching girl. Both moved slowly, but the child still seemed slightly less nervous about the actuator as long as Otto remained in place. Her eyes flickered towards the man repeatedly, yet she didn't let his presence stop her.
The girl and the actuator met in the middle. Otto gave a silent command and Flo set the sandwich on the cracked concrete floor before retracting a little. She stared carefully at the man and four actuators watching her, uncertainty clear on her expression. She shifted back and forth on the balls of her feet, prepared to run at the first hint of trouble. Only when none of them moved did she grab the offered food and jerk back.
"See? That wasn't so hard," Otto said, reaching for his sandwich. "I told you no one here was going to hurt you."
Eyes remaining locked on the man and still tense in case she had to run, the child slowly took a bite. The moment she did, however, the girl began to rapidly stuff the sandwich into her mouth.
"hungry, girl eats fast," chirped Larry.
The click of the actuator made her look up, but she didn't run away or try to escape. She obviously didn't see them as a threat. It was ironic that she was less afraid of the machine whose first act of awareness was to murder a room full of people than she was the human. Otto wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that.
"Now, we should probably discuss something," he said in a quiet and calm voice. Taking a bite of his sandwich and watching the girl finish hers, Otto said, "You can likely guess that I intend to stay here for the foreseeable future. And I can guess that you… You don't have…"
He trailed off, earning a nervously inquisitive look from the child. He still wasn't certain what he wanted to say to her. He wasn't even certain what he intended in the first place. There wasn't much he could do for the girl. After all, Otto knew he was a presumed-dead criminal lurking in an abandoned warehouse with not much hope of changing any part of his fate. How could he help her when he could scarcely take care of himself and the four murderous actuators?
But he couldn't ignore the small, nervous, hungry girl, soaking wet and clearly with nowhere else to go.
"can we keep her?" Flo clicked, repeating her question from last time they saw her.
Harry chirped, "not good idea, Father hiding, girl might lead others to him, dangerous"
"worry too much," she clicked back.
"Since I'm hiding here anyway," said Otto, ignoring the voices in his head, "there is no reason why someone else can't hide here sometimes too. Like when the weather is bad." A flash of lightning overhead followed by a crack of thunder punctuated his words. "I honestly wouldn't mind the occasional stray. They'd be safe here."
The girl stared at him, suspicion clear in her gaze. She didn't have to speak for him to know she was wondering what the catch was. She didn't, however, look like she was about to bolt out the hidden hole in the wall. That was progress. At least he hoped so.
Flo chirped at her encouragingly, peering at the girl and the empty paper plate. She smiled slightly at the metal shape in front of her as Flo twisted and tilted to get different angles of view. The child clicked her tongue at the actuator, clearly trying to imitate some of the noises. Flo reacted by chittering to the girl cheerfully.
It only took Otto a few moments to realize what the actuator was doing. For reasons he couldn't understand, the girl was soothed and comforted by the mechanical entities. She was visibly relaxing as she interacted with the actuator. She feared the human attached to them, but she obviously liked the curious and friendly Flo.
"I wouldn't mind having a stray cat stopping by every now and then," he said quietly. "Or a kitten, as the case may be. And I have a feeling they," he pointed towards the three actuators who were remaining close to him, "won't mind too much either."
The girl tilted her head at his words, increasing her similarities to a feline. She didn't look quite as tense as before. She was still nervous and anxious about him, but it was at least noticeably less so.
Now that he'd made the offer, Otto decided it would be best to stop staring at her and give the girl some space. He doubted that someone as skittish as the child appreciated being the center of attention for very long. Perhaps it would let her relax a little more once he focused on something else. And the actuators could feed him images from their cameras if he did want to see what she was doing in the meantime.
Intending to begin putting away the lunch preparations, he turned. Unfortunately, the movement wasn't as smooth as he expected. At some point during the turn, he managed to hit the wrong angle or something. And thus a sharp pain struck him hard.
Biting back the majority of a yelp as his left leg collapsed under his weight, Harry and Larry instantly braced themselves on the floor to support him. Otto let them, hunched over and hurting. He hated when this happened. And it had happened at least occasionally since his dip in the river. Breathing hard and grimacing, Otto waited for the lightning-like pain to stop jolting through the limb.
It hurt. It truly did. And the man was still trying to figure out what exactly would set off the painful reaction. But even as he tried to keep his reaction down to a sharp hiss, Otto knew that it could have been worse. That much electricity racing through his body twice? With a nice layer of metal right along the spinal cord? He could have ended up completely paralyzed or it could have stopped his heart. Compared to what could have happened, some pain wasn't too unreasonable to expect.
"Father hurt, don't worry, catch you," Harry's voice whispered in his mind.
"girl worried," added Mo. "got closer"
As the sharp pain finally dulled to slight throbbing, Otto looked up to see that the actuator was right. The child had gotten closer. Most of her fear and suspicion had vanished from her expression, replaced by concern. She was still out of normal arm's reach, but her posture suggested that she was debating between staying in place and getting closer to help. He felt mildly surprised by that reaction, but it made a little bit of sense when he thought about it. If she was willing to share her meager supply of food the first time she saw him, it wasn't that unbelievable she would feel sympathy for someone in pain.
Hesitantly testing to see if his leg would support his weight again, he said quietly, "I'm all right. It just hurts sometimes. This is why you have to be careful when playing with electricity." His weak attempt at a joke fell flat, so he just continued tiredly, "Don't worry about me, little kitten. I'm not worth it."
"don't say that, Father worth worrying about, take care of you, protect you, help you," clicked Flo anxiously, twisting around to look him in the face.
"girl has something," Mo interrupted. "throwing small something"
The actuator caught it just as Otto turned his attention away from Flo and back to the girl. Mo offered the small, still-wrapped, half-melted candy bar that the child had thrown. The man took the treat while staring at the girl. She gave him a small encouraging nod before pulling out a second candy bar.
"So is the plan to bribe me with chocolate?" he asked, smiling slightly despite himself.
She shrugged before glancing around the warehouse. Then she bolted, but not out her little escape path. Instead, she scrambled on top of one of the sturdier wooden crates in her corner of the warehouse (and Otto was surprised to realize he was already thinking of it as "her corner"). Once on her new perch, she started opening her snack while watching him curiously.
It was a good spot. She was close enough to the small hole in the wall that it would be easy for her to escape and it was far enough away from him that she shouldn't feel nervous. But she could still keep an eye on the room and it was certainly drier than being outside. She should be reasonably comfortable and less nervous with her chosen perch.
"Stay as long as you like, Kitten," said Otto before returning to the task of cleaning up, taking more care this time with how he moved. "No one will bother you here."
Harry wasn't happy when, after finally working up the nerve to go poking around his father's hidden room again, he discovered that someone had taken one of the vials of Human-Enhancer Formula. They didn't take all of it, but he still didn't appreciate it. And he knew who had to be responsible. Agent Coulson and SHIELD knew about the Green Goblin and the man had no problems sneaking in undetected while he was unconscious. He definitely had the opportunity, motive, and means.
The worst part was there was nothing Harry could do about it. What was he supposed to do? Complain to the police that a secretive government organization stole evidence concerning the identity of a murderer? He couldn't risk it. All he could do was replace the broken mirror and quietly curse the meddling of SHIELD.
It did, however, prompt Harry to go forward with something he'd vaguely been considering since he woke up with a hangover and an ordinary-looking man in a suit in his study. Since he realized the truth, he'd been confused and divided about what to do in regards to the Green Goblin and Spider-man. But no longer. He couldn't just ignore his father's legacy. He couldn't live in denial. He knew he couldn't run away from it either. He needed to accept it. No, more than that. He needed to embrace it. He needed to embrace the legacy of the Green Goblin.
Oscorp held numerous scientists who specialized in a variety of fields. The one he needed to speak to was an expert biologist, biochemist, and neuroradiologist. He also held a Ph.D. in biochemistry and specialized in hematology. Finally, he was a Nobel Prize-winning scientist with almost nothing to lose. He was hired after Norman's death, but he was smart, motivated, and seemed fairly loyal so far to his employer.
Harry stepped into the man's lab, noting how the doctor was focused on the centrifuge. He had black hair and skin that seemed nearly as pale as the lab coat he wore at times. The paleness was due to a rare and normally fatal blood disease, one that would eventually kill him someday.
He was intending to cure the disease, it being the primary focus of his research at Oscorp. Harry didn't know all the details, but he knew the scientist worked on the cure even when he had other projects. His advancements over the years in the treatments for the disease were part of the reason he was still in good enough health to work. But even with the current medical treatments, he might only have a couple of years before he grew too weak and was trapped in a hospital bed. It was only a question of whether or not he would discover a cure before the disease progressed too far.
"Hello, Dr. Morbius," said Harry. "I have a request for you."
Turning away from his project, the Dr. Michael Morbius blinked in surprise and said, "Mr. Osborn, I wasn't expected a visit from the head of Oscorp today. What can I help you with?"
"I need you to work on a project for me, off the record and as quietly as possible," he admitted. Meeting the surprised and suspicious expression, Harry continued, "In return, I will personally ensure that you have everything you need for your main research. Money, assistants, resources, anything. You'll have whatever you require to research and develop the cure you've been searching for."
Uncertain and uncomfortable even while clearly being intrigued by the offer, Morbius asked, "You're not involving me in something illegal, are you?"
"No. This isn't illegal. I'm just revisiting an old project that my father tried. It was never perfected before his death and I just want to fix a part of his legacy," Harry admitted. "I'm not asking you to break any laws. I just want this kept quiet. Please?"
He didn't immediately answer. Instead, Morbius stared down at his pale hands braced on the countertop. They were shaking a little, indicating he was due for another appointment at the hospital for another treatment. Oscorp's medical insurance covered the expensive and increasingly more frequent treatments. It was one of the incentives Harry knew was used to hire him in the first place. The cost would be too much for him otherwise. Especially once it went from every other month to every month. Soon it would be a couple times a month. They could delay the progress of the disease and keep the symptoms mostly at bay, but he was living on borrowed time. Morbius knew it and Harry knew it. And his research may be his only chance. The research that Harry intended to completely fund in exchange for a favor.
"What exactly do you need me to do?" asked Morbius.
Harry pulled the necessary materials out of his briefcase. In addition to another vial of the Human-Enhancer Formula, he handed over all the research he could find on the substance. No one else in Oscorp cared about the failed project. So there was no need to worry about people wondering what happened to all the files and records. Morbius gave him an inquisitive look as he accepted the offered objects.
"They were working on something for the government intended to boost a person's strength, agility, reflexes, durability, stamina, senses, and the speed at which they heal," he described. "They actually made quite a bit of progress on the project before the chief scientist in charge died suddenly. But there were some rather unpleasant side effects mentally."
Harry remembered the description in the report of the insanity experienced by the test rats. He could easily imagine how it might have also affected his father. Did the formula completely push his father to become the Green Goblin or did some of it already exist inside him? Was the potential for that evil insanity already there and the formula just awaken it? And if some of the cruelty and viciousness of the Goblin came from his father's mind originally, was it something genetic? Could the insanity affect Harry? He thought he heard and saw his father that night, compelling Harry to avenge him. Was it just the alcohol or a sign he would become just like his father? Was he destined to be a crazed and cruel murderer?
Harry shook his head, banishing those thoughts. Now was not the time to doubt. He knew what he had to do. He knew what his future would be. His father's legacy cast a long and dark shadow. Harry intended to make use of that legacy for his own purposes.
Continuing, Harry said, "I want you to try and adjust the formula. See if you can fix those side effects. If you can find a way to make this work without driving the subject insane, I would deeply appreciate it. You don't even have to perform human tests. Just ensure that it works with the animal test subjects and I'll be satisfied."
"Is that all?" asked Morbius hesitantly, glancing between the young man and the documented research in front of him. "That is all you want me to do? And you'll provide everything I need to work on the cure?"
"Anything and everything you could possibly need," Harry said.
Some of the board members might consider complaining, but at least a chunk of the funding would come from Harry's personal account. And he could always say that developing a cure for a fatal blood disease would help with publicity. He could make it work.
Morbius nodded, "I'll get started on this and see what I can come up with. I can't make any guarantees until I know more about what they accomplished previously, but I might be able to make the formula work. I can't make any promises, but I'll try."
"That's all I can ask," said Harry, giving him a grateful nod before walking out of the lab.
Now that he'd handled that particular errand, it was time for the next course of action. One that he'd been putting off for far too long. It was time for him to face the situation head on.
It was time to talk to Peter.
"Are you sure you want to come along, MJ?" asked Peter. "I really can't imagine this going well and I wouldn't want you to get caught in the middle of it."
The red-head gave him a look that clearly declared he was being an idiot if he thought she was going to change her mind. As sensational, amazing, and spectacular Mary Jane was about finding out his secret and even stating she wanted to risk everything to stay with him anyway, she was certainly unafraid to tell him when he was doing something dumb. And in her opinion, asking her to stay behind while he went to talk to Harry qualified.
He could sort of understand why she might feel that way. Even after she broke up with Harry, she was still his friend. Just like Peter wanted to still be his friend. And she knew that Peter had been trying to talk to Harry ever since the night Mary Jane was kidnapped by Doc Ock. And now that Harry was finally letting Peter near him again, she was determined to be a supportive friend and girlfriend respectively by coming along to make certain they worked things out.
She might, however, have been more hesitant about joining the upcoming conversation if she knew the entire story about why he needed to talk to Harry. It wasn't that Peter wanted to keep more secrets from Mary Jane. He just didn't know how to explain everything without it turning into a disaster or risking the possibility of denying a dying man's last request. Because if he told Mary Jane about Norman Osborne, she would tell Harry.
Hesitantly, Peter knocked rang the bell. Mary Jane gave him an encouraging look while he simply tried to figure out how to handle the coming conversation. After a moment, the door opened to reveal the familiar white-haired butler.
"Hello, Bernard," said Peter. "Is Harry here?"
He nodded and remarked, "He is indeed at home. And he has been expecting you, Mr. Parker. If you and Ms. Watson would follow me, I'll show you to the study."
Both Peter and Mary Jane had been inside before, though not nearly enough to completely memorize the layout. Before, Harry had tried to distance himself from the wealth of his family enough so that he could interact with his friends without standing out too much. And after, Harry was too wrapped up in his rage and misery about his father's death to socialize much with them. So they let Bernard lead them through the large and expensive home of the young man who may or may not still want to kill Spider-man.
That was the issue that he didn't know how to discuss with Mary Jane. Harry knew who he was now. He'd found out that night when Doc Ock dragged Spider-man to the study. Harry knew that his best friend and the masked figure he hated most were the same person.
Mary Jane knew that Harry had learned Peter's secret and that he didn't react well to the news. That was all that Peter felt safe revealing at the time. And Harry made it pretty clear to everyone in his social circle that he personally believed that Spider-man killed Norman Osborn. But Peter knew that Mary Jane didn't believe that. She didn't believe that he would kill anyone, especially not the father of their friend. She probably assumed that it was a misunderstanding and that they could sort it all out now that his secret identity wasn't so secret.
The problem was that he was at least a little responsible for Norman's death. If they hadn't been fighting that night, Norman would have lived. But if Norman lived, a lot more people would have died by the Goblin's actions. And that was the point. He couldn't tell Harry that his father was the Green Goblin. Not only would it destroy the memory of his father, but it would also go against the final wishes of Norman Osborn before he died. There was still a small enough shred of humanity in him during those final moments that Peter wanted to respect his last request. And Peter couldn't tell Mary Jane because she would insist on tell Harry.
The whole thing was just a mess and Peter knew there was no escaping it.
The study was almost exactly how it was the last two times Peter was in it. Of course, those last two times was when he was bringing Norman's dead body home, all hints of his Goblin identity removed, and when Doc Ock delivered him as a prize. So Peter didn't have a lot of fond memories of the location. He spotted Harry sitting on the same couch near the balcony, not drinking for once and certainly aware of the memories connected with that specific spot.
"Thank you, Bernard," said Harry in a neutral tone. "If you would give us some privacy, that will be all for the time being."
"Very good," he nodded before closing the door behind him.
Peter felt incredibly uneasy about the situation. It wasn't that his Spider Sense was warning him of impending danger. It was just his normal human nerves. He knew they needed to address the situation and he'd been trying to talk to Harry for quite some time. But now that the moment was here, he was nervous.
"I wasn't expecting you to come with him, Mary Jane. Though perhaps I should have," said Harry, still maintaining a neutral and emotionless tone of voice. "She did run away from her wedding to be with you."
Peter saw Mary Jane blush out of the corner of her eye. She didn't regret choosing him, but she did regret the fact she waited until the last minute and broke another man's heart at the altar. It wasn't exactly fair.
Harry looked towards Peter and asked, still in a very neutral voice, "What does she know?"
"I know he's Spider-man," said Mary Jane. "I know he saved me and others multiple times. And I know that the two of you have been best friends since high school. So I know you'll find a way to work this out."
"Yes, he's Spider-man," Harry nodded, looking towards Peter with an intensity that made the young man uneasy. "My best friend and the one I trusted for so long, the one who heard every threat and promise I made to destroy Spider-man for what he'd done, is actually the man I hated most." Gesturing towards the couch he was sitting on, he continued, "He's the one I saw placing my father's lifeless body right here. He's the one that I spent so much time loathing for what he did to my family that night."
"Then you know he didn't kill Norman," said Mary Jane, crossing her arms in front of her. "I mean, it sounded crazy when you were just talking about Spider-man. When has he ever done anything except save people? But can you honestly say that you think that Peter would do something like that?" She glanced towards her boyfriend and said, "Tell him, Peter. It wasn't your fault Norman died."
Peter closed his eyes. He couldn't do it. He didn't stab Norman Osborn in the guts, but that didn't mean it wasn't at least partially his fault. He should have found a way to stop the man before it came to that. He should have found a way to save Norman from himself.
Spider-man was supposed to save people. It was what he did. But he couldn't save Norman from the insanity that consumed him and drove him to become the Green Goblin. And he was insane at that point. Even his fury at the threats and attacks on innocent people wasn't enough to blind Peter to that fact. He couldn't save the man from his own self-destructive behavior. And he couldn't save Dr. Octavius from his sacrifice to stop his creation and redeem himself. But at least with the latter, he chose his fate at the end.
"Peter?" said Mary Jane, her voice now tinged with uncertainty.
"I'm only going to ask this once," Harry remarked, his neutral tone finally gaining a bit of an edge. "Peter Parker, I want you to tell me what happened that night. What exactly happened to my father the night he died? And don't lie to me."
He opened his eyes and looked at Harry. His best friend was staring at him, almost glaring with the intensity of his gaze. His Spider Sense still hadn't gone off, but Peter still didn't feel that confident. He couldn't lie to Harry, but he couldn't tell him about Norman's second identity. He was trapped between two impossible requests: don't tell Harry and tell Harry the truth. No matter what he did, his best friend would hate him and probably try to lash out at him. And Mary Jane would either get caught in the middle or end up believing the worst possible scenario. There was simply no way to win.
But he had to say something. He had to try and find something he could tell Harry. Something that was the truth without violating Norman's final request.
"It was after Green Goblin dragged me away from the bridge. After I saved Mary Jane and those kids from falling," he said uneasily, running a hand through his hair nervously. "It happened so fast. Too fast to stop. And… I don't really know what to tell you, Harry. I didn't kill Norman Osborn. At least, not directly. It was mostly an accident, but someone would have been killed either way. I didn't even know Norman Osborn was there until it was too late to do anything. But it is still my fault that he's dead. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Harry kept staring at him, his expression blank. Normally Peter could tell exactly how he was feeling, but he just couldn't this time. Mary Jane, however, was a little easier to read. She was a combination of surprised, sad, and sympathetic.
"Do you have anything else you want to say?" asked Harry is a quiet, tight, and intense voice.
Peter shook his head regretfully, "I can't apologize enough for what happened. I wish that things were different. I wish that there was some way to fix everything. I'm so sorry, but there's nothing else I can tell you that would make things right. I wouldn't be surprised if you hate me, Harry. I wouldn't blame you. I never wanted anyone to be killed because my actions."
He never wanted anyone to be killed because of his actions, but Peter couldn't help noticing that it kept happening. He never wanted Uncle Ben to die, but he didn't stop that thief from escaping. He never wanted Norman Osborn to die, but he jumped out of the way of sneak attack and the man was hit instead. He never wanted Dr. Otto Octavius to die, but he let the scientist handle the out-of-control experiment while Peter saved Mary Jane. He kept trying, but people kept dying.
"Is that it, Peter? That's all you're going to say? You think that's enough?" asked Harry, standing up from the couch and approaching him and Mary Jane. "I'm surprised at you. I expected something more from you."
Mary Jane took a step forward and asked, "What did you expect? For Peter to say he killed Norman Osborn in cold-blood? Because even if we don't know everything that happened that night, I trust Peter and Spider-man enough to know that something else must have led to his death."
While Peter did appreciate the defense, he wasn't certain that he deserved it. Even after all the lies he told her and after everything that happened to her because of her presence in his life, Mary Jane still believed in him. And some days he was thankful for that confidence and trust. But when facing his best friend about the death of his father, it just made him feel guilty.
"What I expected was for him to at least attempt a 'Star Wars' moment," said Harry. "It would be the perfect opportunity and certainly be closer to the truth than when Obi-Wan tried it on Luke Skywalker."
The sheer randomness of that statement, still spoken in the fairly neutral and emotionless voice, only managed to confuse Peter and Mary Jane. He found himself exchanging looks with his girlfriend, each one searching the other for answers. When it became clear that neither one knew what their friend meant with that sentence, they turned their focus back towards Harry.
"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?" Peter asked.
Harry shrugged, "When Obi-Wan told Luke that Darth Vader killed his father. Remember?"
Peter began to have an impossible idea start to crawl around the back of his mind, but Mary Jane was clearly still confused. He brow furrowing, she tilted her head and stared at Harry like he'd gone completely insane.
"I don't understand," she said. "What does Star Wars have to do with anything?"
"Come on, MJ. I know you've seen the movies at least once. Darth Vader didn't kill Luke's father. Darth Vader was Luke's father. Of course, Darth Vader was actually alive, so he didn't actually kill him, but still…" explained Harry, a hint of some type of resignation and wryness finally crossing his features. "Peter or Spider-man should have just said that the Green Goblin killed my father. It would certainly be more accurate than Obi-Wan's explanation in the movie."
For a moment, she just looked more confused by his words. Then realization seemed to strike the young woman. She wasn't an idiot, after all. She was smart enough to make the connection.
"Wait, are you saying that…?"
"My dad was the Green Goblin? Surprise, surprise," said Harry with a very sad grin. "It actually explains a lot when you think about it."
"You knew?" Peter asked.
"Not the whole time," said Harry. "I just found out recently, not long after I learned your secret."
"Your father was the Green Goblin? The man who attacked the parade?" Mary Jane said, still looking rather stunned. "Put Aunt May in the hospital? Threw me off a bridge? It was your father?"
Harry nodded, "I'm afraid so. I found his secret stash of Goblin gear." He pointed towards a rather large mirror across the room. "And… I was forced to really think about everything. The kind of man Norman Osborn truly was. The kind of man Spider-man… Peter was. And whether or not revenge for the death of my father was worth the cost of my friend." He shook his head tiredly. "It was a harder decision than I thought. I've been angry for a long time, Peter. I wanted to do a lot of bad things because of that anger, but I always thought it would be all right as long as the person I wanted to hurt deserved it."
The blank expression was completely gone by that point. Harry's face was far more open and honest now. Peter could see that he was frustrated, unhappy with what he was dealing with, resigned, and regretful of the past. But there was no anger. No hatred. There was just Harry, his best friend who was facing a difficult truth.
"But you don't deserve it. You're my friend, Peter. And I loved my father, but he was a murderer and very dangerous near the end. I know what he did as the Green Goblin. And his actions led to destruction. Whatever happened between you and him that night, it wouldn't have happened if he wasn't the Green Goblin. It wasn't your fault he died. He's the only one to blame."
"I jumped out of the way," said Peter quietly, speaking almost against his own will. "He activated his glider and tried to stab me in the back with it. I jumped out of the way and it hit him instead. I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't plan it that way. I just reacted and he ended up… All he asked before he died, when he almost sounded like himself again, was that I don't tell you. He didn't want you to know what he became. And I didn't want you to remember him that way either."
Harry took a deep breath. As he let it out slowly, he seemed to relax a little. It seemed like the months of stress and fury he'd carried around with him since that night was falling away. He looked almost like he did back everything. He looked like his best friend again.
"Thank you for trying to protect me, Peter. I'm sorry that I took it out on you. And I know you were just trying to do what you thought was right," he said. "Any more secrets we should talk about?"
"Sorry, I think we've covered most of them."
"Good," declared Mary Jane, her expression clearly stating that she intended to lighten up the oppressive and serious mood of the room. "Now that you two are talking again, things can get back to normal. Or at least as normal as our lives are going to be with our masked superhero in the room."
Harry nodded with a weak smile at her words. Then he stopped, gaining a thoughtful look. Peter was about to ask what he was thinking about right before Harry broke into a fit of rather loud laughter. It left Peter and Mary Jane once again staring in confusion as their friend continued laughing for several moments without pause.
"I just realized," said Harry when he at last caught his breath again. "Your boss, Jameson? He's been paying you to take pictures of yourself this entire time. He thinks you're doing the impossible by getting pictures of Spider-man, but you are literally just taking pictures of yourself."
Yes, Dr. Michael Morbius is from the comics. He is normally known as Morbius the Living Vampire. No, he will not turn into the science-based pseudo-vampire in this story. Sorry. But at least he made an appearance. That's something right?
And Harry has made his choice. He has decided how he's going to handle the issues of "Dad was the Green Goblin" and "Spider-man is Peter Parker."
I don't know when the next update will be, but I'll get to it when I have the chance. And remember: reviews are always appreciated.