Author's notes: I wanted to try something new. Enjoy!

Summary: Three stories following three people unable to sleep one night.

Sleepless Nights

Peter

Forest Hills was a peaceful neighborhood. At night, the only sounds were the crickets chirping, water sprinklers spraying over the lush green lawns, and the occasional unabridged car pulling into a cozy home. The neighborhoods offered less action compared to the rambunctious city. Residence could fall into their sleep cycle much more easily. There was less need to worry about infractions.

One teenager effortlessly slipped back into a second story house. He entered through the window and stepped on the floor. He had traveled long and far from the city to return to his humble bedroom. Thanks to the cover of the night, he painlessly changed from his pair of stretchy blue and red threads to something more casual. He figured a wrinkled white shirt and a pair of age-old jeans would seem less suspicious.

Peter pulled down the handle and slowly opened his bedroom door. He looked down the darkened hallways, searching for anyone still awake. The whole house appeared to be at an easy rest. Cleared, he exited the room and made his way downstairs.

He felt pretty cheerful. The pop quiz at school was a breeze. Between his job as Spider-man and his career as a high school student, he still made time to study and receive good grades. And with a threat taking place in the city earlier in the day, he had managed to slip out of a boring school assembly. Of course he was not alone. He had allies to fight alongside. He and his teammates bickered afterwards, but that was an example of their evolving friendships.

Once Peter reached the bottom step of the staircase, he noticed a light already on. He cautiously peeked around the doorway. His blue eyes spotted his aunt. She was sitting at the table. Her head was lowered, so she didn't notice her nephew nearby. He silently watched her somber eyes. Next to her was a familiar coffee mug. He already knew what dwelled on her mind, on her heart. The departure of a loved one is never easy to bear.

Quietly, he retreated upstairs. He entered the bedroom he had been granted for his extended stay. His cardboard boxes that stored his comic books rested in one corner. His desk was covered in textbooks and loose leaf paper for notes. His bookshelf hauled more books with scientific and adventurous subjects. One of the shelves also held beakers, flasks, and molecule models. He also kept some mementos. He always treasured a picture of himself, his aunt, and his uncle. The bed he had slept peacefully in always bore fresh sheets.

He slipped off his day clothes for sleepwear. Lying in his bed, he drew his attention towards his graded papers. The last image he saw before shutting his blue eyes was his red mask tucked away in a nightstand drawer.

The teen had trouble sleeping. All he could picture was his aunt's dismal emotions. Here he was under crisp, clean sheets in a comfortable bed. His pajamas retained his heat, his stomach was satisfied from his earlier meal, and the roof above him prevented the wind from disrupting him. He had so much because of the extended family members who took him in, watched over him, maybe even thought of him like their own son.

Sighing, he stepped out of bed. He replaced his pajamas for his red and blue costume. He opened a window.

"There's only one way of using great powers," he declared. "Use it responsibly."

Shooting a web, he soundlessly left his home for the night.

Harry

Oscorp stood proudly among the other business skyscrapers. The name of the corporation shined brightly against the surrounding darkness. People in business attires and lab coats alike hurriedly entered and exited the front. It was like a beehive with businessmen and science thinkers alike. For now with the workday completed, no swaying doors of rushing people came. Only the night guards ventured in and out.

The ceiling lights throughout the building were turned off. Only the occasional light from the penthouse turned on for brief moments. A teenager was fully awake in his lavish home. He had no school the next day, so he resided in his living room. As he enjoyed an evening of streaming flicks and playing his videogames, he had trouble focusing. He reminisced about the miserable day he endured.

His teacher gave the students a pop quiz. His chest carried the dread of when the stapled packet would be returned. His would most likely be marked with red like a crime scene. No matter his attempts at studying, he struggled with his classes. His last name hovered over him like a bad storm cloud. He was fully aware of what his future held for him. Time and time again, he wondered how he would one day lead a multi-million dollar corporation.

What followed was worse. His school held a stale assembly. Sitting on the gym bleachers and bored out of his mind, he noted the time passed more slowly than the pop quiz. He couldn't find and sit next to his best friend. He could never figure out how a timid nerd could slip away; cutting classes was not part of the school's nerd's style. He tried to keep his mind on his positive: His father had promised to take him to a baseball game. But such a plan was canceled.

Standing up to stretch his legs, Harry felt a rush of anger and disappointment. It wasn't the first time their promised activity together had been called off. Even on other ordinary occasions, the man would shuffle throughout the penthouse without giving his son a nod of acknowledgement. Deciding to find a culprit, Harry began walking towards his father's bedroom.

The door was closed. Because of the late hour, he dared not knock. His ears barely picked up snoring. He understood the hard work and tenacious attitude it took to run a corporation. He just couldn't figure out why he was constantly brushed aside like a footnote. His mind recalled their last encounter. His dad complied to a rigid routine. Harry grasped the deadlines and trades for Oscorp. Norman would mention them so his son would be aware of what the company was leading in. In other instances Harry was pushed away before anymore of some arbitrary topic could be discussed. It was almost like his father was working on a secret project.

As he stood in place, he knew something was wrong with his father. He didn't know what. He tried reaching out to him, seeking to talk things out, and he received backlash. Over the years as he entered his adolescence, he became accustomed to such reactions. Those never deterred him. He didn't know what he would do if he ever lost his only family. He merely wanted to be a good son.

Yielding his previous motive, he pressed his forehead against the large door. His warm flesh cooled against the chilled wood. He closed his eyes.

"Night, Dad," he whispered. "Love you."

Removing himself, he slumped away.

Norman

The one residing on the other side of the door was unaware of who passed by. Nothing else was available for stimulation. His luxurious bedroom was spotless. Curtains were mostly closed with a slit that permitted the milky white moonlight to enter. A king-sized bed was near a wall. A full grown man was underneath the thread-count sheets. He lightly snored.

It wasn't often the man was asleep in his own bed. He worked those late hours in his office. Some were Oscorp-related. Some were his Spider-man studies. Whenever he labored so late, he found himself awaking in a poshed office chair the next morning. Other times he noticed the sun's rays creeping in. He would remain in his suit and tie, so he would briefly return to the penthouse. He would shower, and change, and then return to his job. During those rush hours, he rarely minded who else was within his home.

Earlier he adhered to his usual Oscorp routine—attending board meetings, inspecting technologies, revising documents, and monitoring the company's extensive budget. He would yell at his employees who acquired high degrees, bemoaning incompetence. He made the company's goal and his demands clear. He desired for Oscorp to succeed, to smash the competition. And he wanted for one day his son to take charge. If the auburn teen could ever raise his grades, that is. He believed Harry's meager chance would only be thanks to his best friend Peter Parker.

Later in the day, Norman received an important notification. He had followed New York's famous wall-crawler with his mission in the city. He watched. He later reviewed the footage. He may had to cancel his previous appointment with his son, but he went to study the hero's habits. This was crucial. Sometimes the web-head fought crime alongside a team of other teen heroes. Sometimes he continued to complete his pursuits alone. Some plays had improved thanks to his time at S.H.I.E.L.D. Other decisions seemed to be based on luck. Nevertheless, it was important to study the web-head's moves, strengths, weaknesses, and strategies.

Observing Spider-man combined the skills of an unscrupulous businessman and a brilliant scientist. Norman Osborn was both. There was a pattern to uncover. There was a profit to be made. Ideas of how to gather the teen hero's powers, copy them, and reproduce them ran through his mind like bees in a hive. Any diligent work would eventually require rest. Norman was, after all, only human.

Amid his uneven sleep sequence, his mind drifted in and out like ocean waves. He did sustain other yearnings. Intuitively, his arm popped out from underneath his sheets. He reached towards the other side of his grandiose bed. He placed his hand down, expecting it to fall over something. Or someone. Instead his arm pushed against the wide mattress. He felt around the cleared space. Feeling something was off, he opened his eyes. He looked up. He saw the flattened bedsheets. The area was empty. Only tugged on sheets made any dents or curves.

A wave of loss enveloped him. He dejectedly sighed, feeling a massive weight in his chest. Despite the fifteen years that had gone by, he still mourned her, his wife. He clenched a fist.

"No sense in wasting valuable hours," he mumbled. "I've got to capture that great power to get my great reward."

He pushed aside his emotions, burring them deep. Unable to sleep, he tossed aside his sheets. He stood up from the bed. He headed towards a desk on the other end of the room. He sat down on an office chair and opened his laptop. A little noise chimed. The light glowed around his face. His fingers rushed over the keyboard. He disregarded his son to favor a newly spotted Spider-man. Norman was unaware he was truthfully seeking a distraction, an escape. He began working as the moon shined on.

End Sleepless Nights

Emily Osborn-Lyman, for initial appearance in a photo, see Spectacular Spider-Man #180, 1991 ("The Child Within: Part 3 of 6"). For full appearance, see Spider-Man: Revenge of the Green Goblin #1, 2000. For her possible return as Emma, see Amazing Spider-Man vol. 1 #789, 2018.