Norman stared in shock at the tv screen while inside, the Goblin laughed. The news station was playing back a clip of the hospital blowing up. The camera focused on the figure flying out of the window of one of the higher floors. There was a close-up on the mask the figure was wearing, so different than his own, and yet, the same. "Harry?", he whispered. He dropped to his knees in front of the tv, reaching out with his hand as if he could touch his son's face. 'It's a family tradition now!', the Goblin howled excitedly, then gave a thunderous cackle. "Shut up!", Norman screamed. 'Or what?', the Goblin yelled threateningly. Norman crossed his arms over his knees, starting to sob tearlessly. For the past two years, he had mostly stopped arguing wiht it, his own lust for power and vengence making disagreements pointless. But he had meant what he had said the last time he'd seen Harry; he had been a terrible father, and he planed to make up for it. Once all obsticles had been out of his way, he would have stopped his killing sprees to spend time with his son. Whether the Goblin would have allowed him to stop, he still didn't know. He doubted it. Slowly, the Goblin broke through Norman's depression enough to calm him down. 'Look at him, following in your footsteps. Don't you see? He's trying to make you proud.' "He thinks I'm dead," Norman replied. 'And yet he drives on, trying to honor your memory. He knows his rightful place in the world now, and he's working toward it. Like a true Osborn, strong. No longer the weakling you knew. Be proud of him, Norman,' the voice said soothingly. He grabbed the remote and turned off the tv. He looked down, appearing to sob again. Then he looked up suddenly, laughing. The Goblin was right. It always was. All of those years he'd been disappointed in Harry didn't matter. Now his son was someone to be proud of, worthy of the name 'Osborn'. He had the sudden urge to see his son, to embrace him, to tell him how proud he was. To make up for all of those lost years, before and after his disappearance. Then another thought occured to him. What if they could work together? Fight side by side, as father and son, to defeat a common enemy? Norman got up and grabbed his coat from the chair, heading for the door. Harry would most likely return home soon. And Norman would be waiting for him.