Grateful Hero 3: The Legacy of the Goblin

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction & Films' started by Alexia Dark, Jul 22, 2005.

  1. Alexia Dark Warrior Princess

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    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.
     
  2. zer00 Registered

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    sweeeeeeeeeeeet
     
  3. SpideyLad Turning It Up To Eleven

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    Awesome, just awesome :up: :up: . And that new Goblin suit is how the movie one should have been.
     
  4. Swordmaster Big Damn Hero

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    F**king awesome
     
  5. dusk20 Registered

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    Keep it up, this is great.
     
  6. dpm07 Hiking Hero

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    You're doing a great job, Steph! Keep it up. :up:
     
  7. Alexia Dark Warrior Princess

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    [Author's Note: I know next to nothing about Captain Stacy, but I felt somehow compelled to include him, if only as the most vague way to include Gwen in this series. In comic continuity, George likely would've been retired by this point. Please indulge this little cameo, with all of its unlikelyhood (hey, you put up with a next door neighbor being Spider-Woman, didn't you?).

    If you have suggestions as to specifics in his speech or general attitude, or any helpful info that I could incorperate into how he is represented, please comment or PM me. As it is, I will make his appearance brief, so as to lessen the chance of unforgivable errors in his character]

    The hospital had been reduced to little more than smouldering embers by the time Devon and Alexia arrived. Devon parked the car a safe distance behind an ambulance and got out. He and Alexia immediately walked over to the police officers who stood just beyond the yellow type surrounding the ruins.
    News vans, camera crews and reporters seemed to be everywhere.

    "Can I help you?," said one of the policemen. He was older than most police officers Devon had seen, with greying hair and an almost grandfatherly look about him, but with the expression of cynical focus that he had come to associate with cops.

    "I'm a reporter for the Daily Bugle," Devon said, showing the man his press pass.

    "And you are?," he directed at Alexia.

    "She's my assistant," Devon improvised.

    "Very well. You can look around, but don't touch anything."

    Devon nodded.

    "Can I have your name and rank, please?," he asked, taking out a notebook.

    "Captain George Stacy."

    "Thanks."

    Devon lifted the yellow tape, and he and Alexia walked toward what was left of the hospital. They were approached by another, much younger officer, who frowned when he saw the logo on the press pass.

    "I'll bet Jonah's seeing green, but it has nothing to do with the freak on the glider," he commented, almost to himself.

    Alexia smirked at this.

    "What caused the explosion?," Devon asked.

    "A special military-made bomb. It's the kind of stuff terrorists dream about. I doubt the lab will even be able to examine it because of clearance issues. But don't quote me on that."

    Devon jotted the information down.

    "Do you know what the motive might've been?"

    "Off the record?"

    Devon nodded.

    "Not a clue. The guy tried to bomb Times Sqare during the middle of a festival. I wouldn't be surprised if he was just a pyromaniac out for kicks," he replied.

    Out of the corner of his eye, Devon noticed something strange. A garbage can knocked on its side. But it was what appeared to be in it that was important.

    "Could you let me examine that, please?," he asked, gesturing to it. The officer was surprised by the request, but picked the material up with a gloved hand, and showed it to Devon.

    It was a white coat, obviously from the hospital, without any apparent dammage from the explosion. Then Devon noted the tag on the front, and the picture on it.

    Captain Stacy beckoned the younger officer over. He gestured that he'd be there in a moment, then looked at the ruins and back at Devon and Alexia.

    "You guys bash Spider-Man all the time, but if he's made it his job to stop this nutcase... I say 'all the power to him'," he said, then set the coat over the trash can and left.

    Alexia folded her arms, looking up, imagining the Green Goblin flying above. She wondered what would've happened if she'd been here only an hour ago. Could she have stopped him?

    She took out her cell phone and called MJ.

    "Hello?"

    "Hey MJ. Is Peter there?," Alexia asked.

    "He went out. I was just about to call you. We found an opening at a church, but it's two days from now. Think you could come over and get fitted for your dress today? There's so much to do, and it's such short notice... "

    Alexia paused a moment before answering, wondering how to break the news.

    "I'll be over soon... but MJ, something terrible just happened. Turn on the news."

    She did so, only a small gasp escaping her lips when she saw what had happened.

    "Oh my God... it's true... what you said... "

    Alexia didn't know what to say. It was so soon before the wedding... what were they going to do?

    "But the wedding... ", MJ said, echoing Alexia's thoughts. "I'll have to ask Peter when he gets back, but I think this should still happen... especially if... "

    MJ stopped, trying to hold back tears. Just when they were so close to being married, so close to finalizing their relationship. What she had almost said was 'especially if he leaves to find Norman'. What if Peter got injured or worse, if he would leave her again because he didn't want to draw attention to her as a possible hostage, what if...

    No. She had already been through this. She knew what being with him meant, what they were both risking. She loved Peter, and nothing would stop that no matter what they faced. This wedding would happen. She didn't want to think that it might be the last thing they would do together, but couldn't help it.

    "Alexia... no matter what happens, I want this wedding to take place. We don't know that Norman's going to do anything yet... we should focus on the wedding if we can," MJ said.

    "You're right. There's no use in worrying yet. We'll deal with it if something happens," Alexia replied, then added, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

    "Okay. Goodbye."

    "'Bye."

    Alexia hung up, looking over at Devon, who was still studying the coat. She could tell that he was angry.

    "I'm betting that he took this guy's coat, used it to get in or out of the building, then threw it away... this is the motive. Something or someone in the hospital," Devon said, but confusion and frustration showed on his face as he continued," But this man was too young. He's too old to have used this... "

    Alexia frowned, sure he was getting closer, that he already knew the truth. Devon took out his cell phone and dialed.

    "Hey, Charles, can you check the Midtown Hospital database for Harry Osborn?"

    Alexia knew what he was thinking, just as confused as he was. Norman was too old to have used the coat, someone would've noticed the difference immediately. But his son, Harry...

    "Thanks Charles," Devon said, hanging up. He looked skyward, his fists clenching in frustration.

    "Harry was admited to the hospital after some sort of nervous breakdown a few weeks ago. He checked out yesterday. I think he did it. He forced a doctor to change the date, then came back to destroy the evidence," he explained.

    Alexia tried to look understanding and sympathetic, but she was too worried. He looked at her, ready to tell her the truth.

    "Norman Osborn is the Green Goblin. Or was, before this... He was the only one who would've benefitted from the deaths of the board members. It left him fully in charge of OsCorp, and when he killed my uncle, he was trying to destroy the competition..."

    Absolute fury was in his eyes, and Alexia understood how much of an obsession this had become. No matter who he had been or what his personality was like, how he felt, it was always there, just beneath the surface, like a cold fire of hate for the man who had killed his uncle.

    Even in Peter, who had had a similar situation, she hadn't seen such a reaction; he was sad and frustratedwhen he spoke of his uncle's death. Then again, Peter blamed himself for his uncle's death, but Devon was only consumed with hatred for Norman.

    "But if Harry did this... could he have... maybe I have been chasing a ghost. Maybe he did die. I can't handle this," Devon said. Alexia wanted to comfort him, to embrace him and tell him that it would be all right. But it was like there was a wall between them whenever the subject of the Green Goblin was brought up. A secret that would forever divide them.

    "Can I drive you back to your bike? I need to be alone right now," he asked.

    Alexia nodded. She realized that she had hardly spoken to him since they'd arrived; there had been nothing that she could have said that wouldn't have been a lie.

    When they arrived in front of the bookstore where her bike was parked, Devon only stared out the windshield and into his own world as she got out.

    "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?", Alexia asked.

    "Okay," Devon replied absently.

    He drove away as she started her bike. As much as she wanted to help him, to be with him through this, he needed some time to be alone. She would help him when he was ready. In any case, she had a wedding to prepare for, and drove off toward where MJ was staying.
     
  8. dusk20 Registered

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    Thumbs up on the chapter and Captain Stacy. :)
     
  9. zer00 Registered

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  10. SpideyLad Turning It Up To Eleven

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    Awesomeness.....Just awesome
     
  11. Swordmaster Big Damn Hero

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  12. The Demon's Head Registered

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    Darth Vader rip off. :O
     
  13. Swordmaster Big Damn Hero

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    N. It would be if I added most impressive
     
  14. Alexia Dark Warrior Princess

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    "Mr. Osborn! I didn't know you were coming back... so soon," Bernard said, standing in the doorway, "How are you, sir?"

    "I'm fine. I'm sorry for my behavior a few weeks ago. I had too much to drink," Harry replied.

    Bernard just opened the door all of the way and stepped back to allow him in, unsure of how to respond. Harry walked toward the staircase.

    "You can go home now," he said, his back turned.

    Bernard looked at him, puzzled at how the young man was acting, but left anyway, shutting the door behind him.

    Harry ascended the stairs to his study, eagar to drown what had happened in alcohol, trying to block everything out. 'Don't think about it. Just don't think,' Harry thought to himself. His father's reflection stood near the open balcony doors. He didn't react, all but running to the bar to get a drink.

    "Harry?", the reflection said, seemingly confused by his lack of response.

    "Why won't you just go away? I followed your stupid ****ing plan, so just leave me alone," Harry said harshly, then gulped down a shot glass full of the hardest liquor he could find.

    "Harry! Why are you talking to me like that? I've been gone for over 2 years, and I don't even get a hello?", the reflection said, hurt.

    "What are you talking about? You know what, don't answer that. Just shut up," Harry snapped. He looked closely at the figure, finding it strange that it was there without a reflective surface nearby.

    "Harry-"

    "I said shut up!," Harry yelled, his temper suddenly out of control. He threw the glass he was holding at the vision, hoping that would make it disappear.
    But instead of the glass breaking against the wall, it stopped. Norman had caught it.

    "What are you doing? What's wrong with you?," he asked.

    Harry felt like he was going to collapse. Flesh and blood. It was flesh and blood. Was it just another trick? It looked so real...

    Harry's eyes teared up as he realized the truth. It was his father. Somehow, he had survived. He was alive. He was here.

    "Dad?," Harry said in wonderment. He started to walk toward him.

    "It's me, Harry. I'm here."

    Harry stopped a moment in front of him, almost unbelieving. Then he reached out and hugged his father, more for comfort than for confirmation that he was real. Norman hugged him back, wondering why Harry had reacted the way he did. Harry let go, looking at him with a relieved smile.

    "What happened to you? I thought... I thought that Peter had killed you," Harry asked.

    "He tried, Harry. He thought I was dead. He needed to," Norman responded.

    "Where have you been? When did you get back?," Harry asked.

    "Paris. I was in Paris. I came back a few weeks ago."

    Harry shook his head, as if in disbelief. Then for a split second, he saw an illusion. It could've been the way the light hit his face, or his expression, or perhaps something in his eyes. For a moment, his father's face had split into two; half so familiar, it's features smiliar to his own, but the other half was the embodiment of his hate and fear, that had tormented him for years. The mask of the Green Goblin.

    Harry felt a familiar presence, and knew that he had seen it on purpose. The voice was back, and it was laughing at him.

    "What's wrong, Harry?," Norman asked, seeing the change in his son's face, distant, as if he could see or hear something that Norman did not.

    Harry turned his attention back to his father. Norman's expression was so open, so caring. How could this man, his father, possibly be the monster who had tried to kill MJ, who had murdered people in a lust for power?

    "Harry?," Norman repeated, reaching out to place a hand on his son's shoulder. Harry recoiled, becoming paranoid and angry. He was out of control, so confused...

    "Why didn't you tell me that you were alive?," Harry demanded.

    "I couldn't. You would have told someone. You could have told Peter, and everything would've been ruined," Norman replied.

    "So instead, you left me here alone? Obsessed with getting revenge when you were alive the whole time?!," Hary yelled.

    "It was for your protection!," Norman yelled back, his anger mirroring Harry's.

    "For your protection, you mean!"

    "Everyone nedded to believe that I had died while I recovered. So I could come back... and finish what I started," Norman said. His voice had changed, his eyes showing recklessness and insanity. Back to the way Harry had seen him for over 2 years.

    "You're crazy," Harry said, starting to move away.

    "It must run in the family. I saw the news, Harry. You blew up that hospital full of innocent people..."

    "I had to!," Harry yelled.

    "Exactly! You did what you had to do to protect yourself. So that you could take what's yours. 'To realize one's own destiny is a person's only obligation'. You did the right thing," Norman insisted.

    "This isn't my destiny!," Harry responded.

    "Of course it is! Why else would all this have happened? We're special, Harry. Both of us. We were meant for this. Why deny yourself the power you deserve?," Norman asked.

    "I don't want it," Harry said, shaking his head, fighting back tears.

    "Yes you do. You're an Osborn. You're my son," Norman said, then clamped his hands on Harry's shoulders.

    "Help me, Harry. Help me to fullfill my destiny. Our destiny. Together, father and son. Working toward what we deserve. We can rule this city! Only one person stands in our way! He must be destroyed! Help me kill Spider-Man!," Norman yelled, no longer himself. It was only the Goblin talking now.

    "No! I don't want to be like you!," Harry screamed.

    "You're too late!," the Goblin said, laughing.

    "Get out!," Harry said, breaking out of his grip, surprising the Goblin.

    "You don't know what you're doing," the Goblin said.

    "I said get out!"

    The Goblin howled with laughter as he started toward the door.

    "Spider-Man will pay! He will die!," he said.

    His laughter echoed down the hallway as he left. Harry slammed the door behind him, stopping in just enough time not to break the hinges. He ran to the bar, tears flowing down his face, picking up a bottle of liquor and gulping it down. He was burning inside, but it had nothing to do with the alcohol. He finished it off and reached for another. If it took all day and all night, he would make the pain go away.
     
  15. SpideyLad Turning It Up To Eleven

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    Normans back :D! Yet another awesome chapter Steph! Keep up the good work
     
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  17. zer00 Registered

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  18. Swordmaster Big Damn Hero

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    Excellent work, Steph
     
  19. dusk20 Registered

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  20. dpm07 Hiking Hero

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    Your character development of Harry is really well done. Especially illustrating the personal demons he has to contend with. :up:
     
  21. Alexia Dark Warrior Princess

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    "It's not the hilltop you hoped for, but unless we want to risk having the wedding in a snow storm or wait until spring, it's all we've got," Mary Jane said, looking across the table at Peter. Alexia was also there, having arrived 20 minutes earlier.

    "It was just a silly day dream. I didn't really expect a wedding like that. Anywhere is fine with me," Peter replied.

    "I was thinking of having carnations on the tables in the dinning hall. What do you think, Alexia?," MJ asked.

    "Huh?," Alexia mumbled, looking up. "I'm sorry, I'm just... distracted."

    MJ nodded. Truthfully, it was only Peter's presense that kept her from breaking down over what had happened. But right now, Alexia had no one.

    "I'm trying not to think about it," MJ said.

    "I just can't wrap my head around this. Devon's not sure what's happening, and neither do we. I just don't know what to do," Alexia said.

    "Either way, something really bad is happening. It has to stop," Peter said.

    "How do we stop it if we don't even know who to stop? First Devon thought it was Norman. Now he thinks it's Harry. But why would he need to break into his own warehouse?," Alexia asked.

    "Maybe so that the equipment would be reported as stolen and wouldn't be traced back to him?," MJ suggested.

    "It's possible, but that doesn't seem like something that Harry would do. THe lasttime I saw him, he was a wreck. I've never known him to plan ahead that well. Especially something like this... planning to kill people... it's just not him," Peter said.

    The phone rang. MJ went into the kitchen to answer it. Peter looked over at Alexia.

    "I wasn't sure if I should say this around MJ, but I remembered something. Harry said that he found Norman's equipment behind the mirror in the study. He's had it all along. He wouldn't need to break into the warehouse. So Norman might be back after all,"he said.

    "Maybe he was helping Harry to escape from the hospital," Alexia suggested.

    "Maybe, but the hospital was bombed almost as soon as he went in, and there was only one person on the glider when he came out," Peter pointed out. Alexia sighed, frustrated.

    "What are we going to do? We don't even know who this guy is."

    "I don't know. But it's only a matter of time before whoever it is comes after me," Peter said.

    MJ came back in, carrying an armful of bridal magazines. There was a moment of silence as she set them on the table. Alexia picked one up.

    "Well... there's no use sitting here all night worrying. All we can do now is wait. We have a wedding to plan," she said. Peter nodded. MJ smiled, trying to be enthusiastic.

    "So, about the cake... "
     
  22. zer00 Registered

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  23. Alexia Dark Warrior Princess

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    'To realize one's own destiny is a person's only obligation.'

    "But this isn't mine... ," Harry whispered.

    His eyes were closed, his body relaxed, almost numb. He'd drunken all day and all night, but the pain hadn't left until he'd fallen asleep some time after midnight. He sat in the study, only feet from where he and his father had argued the day before, a cup of coffee in his hands. Over and over, he replayed the conversation in his mind.

    For over two years, he'd come home expecting his father to be there, sitting in the study working or persuading some military commander into doing lunch, only to be disappointed when reality set in. And then the anger, the obsession, would start all over again...

    But yesterday, his father had been there, waiting for him. For over two years, it had been what he'd dreamed about, what he'd wished for. His wish had been granted, but it came with a price. With his father's return, Harry was forced to face the truth; Norman was a maniac, a homicidal psychopath who had kiled people for his own gain. If he had ever been a caring, compassionate person, that man was gone, replaced by only a ghost of insanity.

    Harry stood up, suddenly restless, knowing that if he stayed there he'd start to think about what he had done. There was only one place that he could think of to go, dispite what it stood for: OsCorp.

    Kinkin Park blasted from the speakers as Harry pulled into the underground parking lot and stepped out of the car. He received only wary glances as he walked into the elevator, ignoring the people around him.

    During his two years as the owner and CEO of OsCorp, Harry had been viewed as an annoyance, little more than a poster-boy to represent the company. To his face, people were respectful, quickly learning not to bring up his father's death unless it was about a project he'd worked on. But behind his back, he was mocked as an empty-headed child with no knowledge of what he was doing.

    Looking back on those yearrs, Harry couldn't blame them. He had no interest in science or in business, areas in which his father had excelled.

    'Not 'had'. 'Does''," Harry mentally corrected himself. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. The irony of where he was made him uneasy; this place was a 50-story momument to his father.

    The elevator reached the floor his office was on. Harry tried his best to stay calm as he used his keycard to get into the outer office, where his secretary's work station was unoccupied, and went into his office.

    The walls were a rich shade of green, almost a dark jade, as were the curtains. The carpet was green with golden edges. Green lamps decorated a dark oak desk, behind which sat a black leather chair. Green pillows rested upon black a black leather sofa next to a black bookcase. The room had the distinct feeling of his father.

    Harry knew he couldn't stay there. Already it felt as if the colors themselves called out to him, which he knew was pure insanity. He turned to leave just as a girl carrying a stack of files entered the outer office. It was Karen, his secretary.

    "Mr. Osborn, I didn't know you were here. How are you, sir?," she asked. Harry noticed that there was something strange about her. Her posture was rigid, her eye movements scattered, as though she were trying her best not to look at him. Harry just shook his head.

    "I was just leaving," he said, and moved to get past her. She all but jumped out of his way, but her desk, beside the door, prevented her from going far. As Harry reached for the door knob, he saw that her hands were shaking.

    "Are you all right?," he asked, stopping and looking her in the eye.

    "I-," she started, but a file slipped out of her hands.

    It fell on the floor, open. A bunch of pictures was inside. Harry looked down at the one on top of the pile, and scowled. It was of him in the study, gulping down a shot of vodka only moments after his father had left. Harry picked up the file, then looked back at Karen.

    "You've been spying on me," Harry said, beginning to get angry. Karen looked away, backing up against the desk as far as she could, her hands shaking unconsciously.

    She was afraid of him, and Harry knew why. His father must've hired her to watch him. He recalled his father's lack of surprise when Harry had said that he thought that Peter had killed him, something that he couldn't have known that Harry knew. But he did, because he'd hired his secretary to watch him. It was obvious that Karen also knew about Harry's transformation.

    Harry heard the whispers of the Goblin beginning, fueled by Karen's fear and his own anger. He stepped back, looking away, trying to resist it. Immediately, Karen moved to go out the door, but Harry couldn't keep control. His hand shot out, grabbing her by the neck and pushing her into the wall.

    'Very good. But you're at OsCorp. If she's found here, she's be directly linked to you. Besides...'

    Harry dropped her, glaring down at her as she coughed and scrambled to her feet, and ran out of the room. He wasn't worried about him revealing his secret. He had the feeling that she would go to his father, and that would be a fatal mistake. When she told him what had happened, she would've outlived her use. She wouldn't survive the day.

    Harry fumed with anger over what his father had done. But more importantly, it unlocked all of his other feelings. Fury at his father, but also at Peter. In a twisted way, Peter was still responsible for his current situation. If he had only let his father's killing spree run it's course, none of this would've happened. Norman wouldn't have threatened MJ, and the fight which had almost ended his life wouldn't have taken place.

    MJ... how Harry still loved her. He always had, in his own strange, possessive way. He remembered the burning hatred he'd felt when he saw her and Peter together...

    He picked up the phone on Karen's desk and dialed a number.

    "Hello?," Aunt May asked.

    "Hello, May," he said in his happy, business-face voice," You wouldn't happen to know where Peter is, would you?"

    "Oh, Harry. Peter's over at Mary Jane's mother's house," she answered.

    "Thank you," Hary said, about to hang up.

    "No problem, dear. It's just too bad that you couldn't have been the best man."

    "What?," Harry asked.

    "At the wedding. He didn't tell you?"

    "No. Actually, I've been meaning to apologize to him. Maybe I could talk to him before the wedding. Where is it?"
     
  24. Swordmaster Big Damn Hero

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    Oh snap.


    Nice work
     
  25. zer00 Registered

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    Good stuff.
     

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