Disclaimer: I feel I need to apologize for my rant on the previous disclaimer, but I needed to say what had to be said. That being said, I've been so busy as of late with work and the Writer's Block and other distractions that this story's almost become an afterthought. Maybe I'm just getting old.

But I'm not stopping UNTIL this story is finished. Again, I'm going to skip the disclaimer and get right to it.

Chapter XXIII

Harry had been at the Starbucks where Liz Allen worked all morning, waiting for Peter to arrive. On the table was the mystery file that he'd found in his father's office. Since then, he only gotten a scarce amount of sleep so he'd asked Liz to bring him an extra strong cup of coffee to give his brain that little extra jumpstart. It seemed appropriate, if a little bit desperate. But Harry had much on his mind and his impending meet-up with Peter was first and foremost. It wasn't much surprise that Peter eventually arrived just outside the Starbucks and tapped the window to let Harry know he was there. Harry motioned Peter to enter the store. Ten seconds later, Peter entered and quickly took a seat across from Harry.

"I got your call, or at least the got the missed call. I was busy at the Bugle." Peter said apologetically.

"It's cool, Pete. I'm just glad you should up." Harry replied just as Liz Allen approached the table.

"Wow, look at this. The nerds have reunited." she joked.

"Very funny, Liz. I'll take a coffee, no sugar."

"Coming right up." Liz said before walking away.

Getting straight to business, Harry exclaimed, "Thanks for coming, Pete."

"No problem, but I was wondering where you were. You never came back to the apartment last night." Peter stated.

"Yeah, I couldn't. I stayed at my Dad's penthouse; felt like ages since I lived there," Harry explained to Peter, who simply gave a slight nod of understanding. "Look, I owe you an apology for last night."

"It's cool, man. Part of me even thought I deserved it." Peter admitted.

"It's not cool. I was… scared… for my Dad, you know. And, I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Like I said; you don't have to be sorry." Peter assured Harry.

Harry wasn't sure if he should've been relieved that Peter had, more or less, accepted his apology. But this was Peter Parker, after all. It wasn't in him to hold a grudge against anyone for any reason. Meanwhile, Harry had been more a total jerk than Flash Thompson had been to the both of them. All the times that his father displayed favoritism toward Peter and not his own flesh and blood caused jealousy to rear its ugly head within Harry. Knowing that his father was in the hospital was a wake-up call for Harry. It prompted him to slide the file slightly across the table to Peter.

"Apologizing to you wasn't the only reason I called you." Harry stated.

"What's this?" Peter asked.

"Open it a see for yourself."

Peter took the file just as Liz returned with a cup of coffee and set it on the table. "What's that you've got there, Pete?"

But Harry said, "I don't see how that's any of your business, Liz."

"I wasn't asking you, Harry." Liz said back.

Peter was already deep into the contents of the file and his eyed widened in surprise. "No way," he said. "Harry, is this what I think it is?"

"What, what is it?" Liz asked while Harry took the file back from Peter.

"I had that same look, man. It's a will written by my father regarding the future of OsCorp. It states that if anything were ever to happen to my father, then the entire company, all of its assets, everything falls to his immediate successor. That's means… me."

Peter and Liz were both stunned into silence before Liz muttered, "Oh…. shit."

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly." Harry said.

Peter leaned in slightly and tapped that file with his index finger and middle fingers. "Harry, this is big. This means you're in line to take the reins of OsCorp. Plus, Wilson Fisk won't be able to do anything about it once the will's been revealed. His occupation of the company would be null and void."

"Don't you think I know that, Peter," Harry stated. "What I don't understand is why."

"Why what?" Liz asked.

Harry glanced at Liz for less than a moment before stating. "My father's treated me like some second-class citizen for years, always rambling that I'd wasted my potential. But this…"

"Well, maybe your Dad's just starting to put a little faith in you. I mean, you are his only son, Harry."

I guess, but…" Harry trailed off.

"But what?" Peter asked.

"Being the heir to the legacy of Norman Osborn, taking the reins of a multi-billion dollar company? It just doesn't feel real or even right. I don't think I want that kind of responsibility." Harry explained.

Peter thought, I know how that feels, buddy.

The silent moment lasted too long for Liz's taste and she changed the subject. "So, did you guys hear about Gwen? She's leaving tonight."

"Yeah," Peter said though he was less than thrilled about Gwen leaving. "Didn't you offer to drive her to the airport, Liz?"

"I was supposed to, but I found out last-minute that I have to work a double shift and I need the extra cash."

"I could take her. It'd give me a chance to say goodbye." Harry said, slightly irking Peter even though he didn't show it.

"Too late for that, Harry. Mary Jane already offered to take my place." Liz stated.

The collective looks from Peter and Harry were priceless. Then Harry phone rang and brought him out of his funk. "Hello?"

Peter was stunned by the news that Mary Jane would be the one to see Gwen off, given their history of one-upping each other. More and more, Peter felt like it should've been him to say his goodbyes to Gwen, but he knew better. He just continued telling himself that Gwen going to London was for the best for both of them; she'd be safe and sound while he'd risk his neck to protect the city from the like of the Goblin. It still didn't feel right. Peter couldn't help but feel a little bit selfish, as if he was possibly pushing Gwen away just so he could continue his thrill seeking. He knew it wasn't about thrill seeking, and Gwen knew it as well ever since Peter revealed that he was Spider-Man. The more he kept telling himself it was the only way, or maybe even the right thing to do, the more he hated himself for it.

Peter was startled when Harry suddenly rising up from his seat. "Could you make sure he doesn't leave until I get there? Thank you."

"Harry, what's wrong?" Liz asked before Peter could.

"It's my Dad; he's awake." Harry said.

This can't be good. Peter thought.

"Pete, you coming?" Harry asked.

"Go, Harry. Your Dad needs you." Peter said, and Harry bolted out of the Starbucks, but not without leaving a tip on the table.

Liz jokingly huffed, "Some friend you are."

Peter glared at Liz and replied, "It's not like that, Liz. This thing with Harry's father; it's something he needs to handle himself. I can only do so much."

Liz murmured in agreement before she asked, "So, what about Gwen? Are you going to say your goodbyes before she leaves?"

Peter folded his arms across his chest and huffed. "I don't even know if I should. Gwen's leaving for London tonight."

"So?"

"So, she's going to living the life she always wanted, the life she dreamed about. All I'll be able to do is complicate it."

"You've become a real cynic, you know that," Liz said. "Would it really be so bad for a guy like Peter Parker to give a proper sendoff to the girl of his dreams?"

Peter thought about the question for a long time, and yet, he didn't have an answer. "I don't know anymore." Then he got up to leave, leaving a tip on the table as Harry did.

Before Peter was out the door, Liz said, "She still loves you, Peter. Gwen always talked about you so fondly even after her Dad died. Whether you know it or not, you're all she has left. Don't take that away from her."

With that, Liz returned to work as nothing had transpired between herself and Peter. Peter was left to his own thoughts and considered Liz's words with marked interest. Despite of her somewhat occasionally ditsy nature, Liz had as good a point as anyone. Peter was really all that Gwen had left in the world and vice versa. So, it was ultimately more for Peter to be conflicted about, and he hated being conflicted.

A half hour later in the day, Harry arrived at Manhattan General and literally burst through passed the sliding automatic doors. He had the intension of completely ignoring the receptionist and heading straight for the room his father was in. He did that, but the receptionist, a young woman likely in her teens barely offered him a glance. That was fine with Harry. He simply stormed down the hall toward the elevator and jumped inside.

Once he reached the fourth floor, Harry bolted right back out of the elevator and into the new hall with added fervor. Eventually reaching the room in which his father rested, Harry stormed in and froze in astonishment. Norman was not only awake, but sitting upright and removing the tubes from his arms. Only one doctor was with Norman, checking his vitals for any abnormalities. But aside from the invasive procedure, Norman seemed perfectly fine and glanced at his wayward son.

"Harry." Norman greeted in his usual, gruff tone.

"Dad!? You're okay." Harry replied without even trying to mask his shock.

"Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?" Norman asked while removed the last tube.

Harry wasn't even aware that his mouth was agape when he approached his father, who actually appeared to have made a full recovery in a day. Almost twelve hours ago, Norman was in intensive care with more or less a fifty/fifty chance of recovery. The odds were good that he'd recover completely, but no once, Harry least of all, could've expected Norman to recover so quickly. Norman in the meantime had just removed the last of the needles from his arm before sitting straight up on the bed. He used his arms to steady himself when Harry was close enough.

"You look like hell, Harry. When's the last time you've gotten any sleep?" Norman asked, and it seemed like the first time, possibly, than Norman was more concerned about Harry than himself.

Harry stammered and slurred whatever words he intended to say. "I… I wasn't even sure if you were going to recover, Dad."

"And yet, I have. Personally, I'm quite eager to get out of this damn hospital, go home and get to work on getting things back to the way they should be." Norman stated.

"Of course!" Harry sighed.

Norman looked at his son and said, "Harry, the last thing I want is for you to worry about me. I don't remember what happened or how I got here, but I do know this; I'm not going anywhere."

Harry couldn't help but feel just a little bit relieved to hear his father say that to him. Whatever happened over the past twelve hours seemed to wash away from Harry's mind, almost reassuring him that anything was going to be alright. He did notice a somewhat different demeanor in his father's eyes, like the eerie calm of a hurricane that eventually blew itself out. It made Harry feel a mixture of relief and dread. Then a heavy knock drew the attention of father and son toward the door. Wilson Fisk was standing at the doorway that was a size too small for his massive frame, yet he was able to enter the room with no trouble.

"That's good to hear, Norman," Fisk replied to Norman's earlier statement. "You and I have some business to discuss."

Norman wasn't surprise by Fisk's arrogance in entering the room, since it was as prominent as his girth. "Harry, could you give us a minute?"

"Dad…" Harry said, wanting to stay at his father's side.

"It's okay, Harry. I'll take care of this. Get out of here." Norman said as if reassuring his son.

Harry had yet another reason to be stunned by his father's surprisingly calm demeanor and he left the room. For little more than a split second, Harry eyed Fisk. Fisk eyed him back while Harry went on his way, with Fisk still eying him as he stepped out of the room. The door closed behind Harry, slowly and surely so Fisk knew Harry was still present just outside the room. This was more for Harry to keep an eye on his father, who since waking up seemed unusually aloof with none of his usual indifference toward Harry. It was enough for Harry to think something was very different about his father.

With Harry out of the room, Fisk was poised to get to the matter at hand, but he opted for small talk first. "Well, it seems you've made quite the recovery, Norman."

"Yeah, I suppose the doctors knew what they were doing this time," Norman replied. Then he glared at the man who by all rights, stole his company from him. "What the hell do you want, Fisk."

"I like a man who gets right to the heart of the matter," Fisk stated before closing the distance between his face and Norman's. "I want to talk about the Green Goblin."

Norman first cocked an eyebrow and then smirked. "Well, I hope you'll understand that I don't want to talk about him or any other Goblins."

"That's not up for debate, Osborn. The Green Goblin has twice attacked me in the past few days, along with Silvermane and Negative. He's murdered Mr. Menken for no reason whatsoever." Fisk explained.

Norman remained nonplussed. "The Goblin is nothing but a loose cannon. Everything he's done has been totally random."

"But he's your loose cannon, Osborn. You hired him last year to kill me and the other crime bosses. And, now he's back and he's trying to do the same thing."

"What's your point?"

"You hired the son of a bitch. You know who he is under that garish mask of his, and you are going to tell me if I have to beat the answers out of you. And perhaps, even your son." Fisk snarled.

Norman stood up from the bed and faced off with Fisk. "Don't go thinking you can threaten me, Fisk, especially when I know who you really are and what you've done. I've got that particular information stored away if anything happens to me or my son."

"You won't risk it, not without implicating yourself." Fisk claimed.

"It'll be worth the risk. Imagine the ramifications if S.H.I.E.L.D. got wind of your criminal activities… if they haven't already. Now, get the hell away from me, you lowlife sack of garbage." Norman demanded.

Fisk was beaten and he knew it, but he didn't show it. Instead he smirked and said, "S.H.I.E.L.D. can't touch me anymore that the FBI or the CIA. As for the Goblin, I will find out the truth if it kills me."

Then Fisk started toward the door, stopping to look back at Norman. Norman glared back at Fisk, watching closely to make sure that the behemoth of a man was on his way out. Fisk huffed and left the room, and in his waste, completely missed the sinister grin on Norman's continued on out of the room, ignoring Harry as he went. Harry watched Fisk leave with the same glared that his father display not two second ago. Like his father, Harry hated Fisk for taking over OsCorp. With the discovery of the will, Harry was poised to take over his father's company should something happen. But he didn't want that kind responsibility and he was going to have let his father down gently. Maybe Norman would disapprove, but it was better than lying to him.

"Harry?" Norman suddenly called out from the room.

Harry entered the room as his father was putting on the far less than ideal articles of clothing that the nurses had provided him. He already had on a set of dark blue trousers, and he was now putting on an olive green hoodie-jacket and a pair of shoes. It was certainly a far cry from the usual business attire Norman tended to wear. Harry thought it made his father look a little bit more normal, like an everyday New Yorker. But he knew that the moment they returned to the penthouse, which was inevitable, Norman was going to want to slip into his regular attire… or, at least a robe.

"Harry, is there something you wanted to tell me?" Norman asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired.

"You had to come all the way here for a reason, son. Given the way I've treated you over the years, I'd have thought you'd care less."

"I just…" Harry was inches from showing his dad the will, but he hid it in his back pocket instead. He wasn't ready. "I just wanted to be sure you were okay."

Norman approached his son and put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, I am okay, Harry. Let's go home."

Then Norman drew his son for an embrace and held as closely as possible. Harry accepted the gesture but still couldn't shake away the belief that something seemed off about his father's recovery. And, just as was the case with Wilson Fisk, Harry never noticed the twisted grin his father was displaying.

Today was the day but Gwen couldn't help feel bittersweet about leaving the city where she was born and raised. All day long, while she was gathering the most important items for her flight, Gwen kept telling herself it was for the best that she leave New York. She told herself it was the only way to leave the memory of her father's death behind. But it was leaving Peter that bothered her. Gwen still wanted Peter to go to London with her, but given recent events, Gwen had a slightly better understanding of why he couldn't go. As she packed up her clothes and other essential for the trip, Gwen picked up the framed photograph on the cabinet by her bed.

The photograph was one of her and Peter, nestled together in her bed. They each had their eyes closed, and Peter looked particularly adorable wearing a skullcap. He was kissing her forehead as she slept. The photo was taken a year and a half ago and to Gwen's knowledge, it was taken by her father. It warmed Gwen's heart that she wanted to take the photo with her. But she didn't intend to take it, evident when she removed the picture from its frame. Taking a pen out of the backpack she was going to take on board her flight, Gwen started writing on the back of the photo. What she had to jot down didn't take long, but she took her time nonetheless. She didn't want to make any mistakes.

As she was finishing the writing, the doorbell rang through the soon-to-be for rent apartment. Gwen sent the photo and pen down and went to answer the door, knowing right away that it was to be her ride to the airport. Opening the door, Gwen found Mary Jane leaning against the wall beside the door. Gwen immediately noticed a difference in MJ's appearance, namely the glasses she was wearing and the red hair tied behind her back. MJ in turn looked at Gwen's very, very bright green coat, the black undershirt and the blue skirt hugging her thighs.

"Wow, Gwen! That's pretty modest if you're trying to get noticed by the airline pilots." MJ quipped.

"Very funny, Mary Jane," Gwen replied before she took to pointing at the specs over MJ's eyes. "So, what's with the specs?"

"What, these? I thought they'd make look a bit smarter. What'd you think?" Mary Jane said.

"I think if you're trying to look like Debra Whitman, you should probably try harder. Or, not at all." Gwen stated, and MJ knew she spoke honestly.

"Thanks for nothing," MJ said before she followed Gwen into the empty apartment. Nearly everything was covered in a white cloth to keep the dust off. "Wow, you weren't kidding about moving out."

"All this is going to be delivered to my new place in London. As for the suitcases and carry-ons, they're coming with me on the plane."

MJ traced a finger on the cover arm of a couch. "You know, I actually kind of envy you."

"Why's that?"

"You're moving on to a new life and leaving the old one behind. I guess it's kind of like being born again." MJ stated.

"Do you believe in life after death, MJ?" Gwen asked.

MJ thought for a few moments and determined that Gwen was talking about her father again in a certain way. "Depends on one's point of view, I suppose. Gwen?"

But Gwen was suddenly gone from view. MJ quickly determined that Gwen had returned to her former room, a small sheet of pater and a pen in hand. It looked as though Gwen was just finishing writing something down on the sheet. Mary Jane thought to pry if only to thoroughly annoy Gwen, but she thought better of it. The way Gwen was acting suggested something serious about the paper, so for the sake of it, MJ remained silent. Gwen eventually finished and slipped the paper into her coat pocket, and was then that MJ attempted to ask.

"What were you writing?"

Gwen gathered up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "I'll tell when we get to the airport. I don't want to miss my flight."

"Okay. Let's hit the road."

Mary Jane grabbed the suitcase from the floor, which appeared relatively heavy but thankfully was on wheel to make it easier to pull. Gwen followed but stopped for a moment at the door. MJ was already into the hall. Gwen looked back at her empty apartment for the final time. With an exasperated sigh, Gwen shut off the lights and closed the door behind her. MJ was still waiting for her when Gwen reached her.

"You ready, Gwen?" she asked.

"Yeah," Gwen replied. "I'm ready."

Author's note: Sorry for taking so long getting this chapter finished. Like I said, so many distractions have nearly made this project an afterthought.

It would seem that Harry might be in line to take the reins of OsCorp, albeit reluctantly, while Norman seems to be back to normal… or is he?

MJ returns, and she's… wearing glasses? Okay, I got that idea from a photo of Stephanie van-Rijn on. I've got a thing for women with glasses. I can't help myself. And Stephanie is freakin' gorgeous. Any, you review, and I will pine of Stephanie van-Rijn.