WHO: Harry Osborn and OTM WHAT: Harry’s a confused, slightly panicky Hobgoblin WHERE: Town Square WHEN: Monday night/Tuesday morning RATING: Low
Peter had once said that he kept his identity a secret because he knew that Norman hated Spider-Man. He knew that the businessman would stop at nothing to see he was destroyed. If Harry knew his secret, then it was likely that he would be put in a position where he would have to choose. Peter or Norman. His best friend or his father. It was an impossible decision. One he didn’t know how to make. One he wished he didn’t have to make.
“Harry! Get me out of these things!”
“Harry, please! Come with me. I’m your father!”
They were both yelling. Both in danger. Both in need of him to decide. His father trapped beneath debris; his best friend pinned to a wall in restraints he’d designed but that his father had used. He couldn’t do this. It wasn’t an easy decision no matter how he looked at it. Peter was his best friend. The one who was always there for him, the one who always had his back, but Norman was his father. Sure, their relationship was complicated. He’d gotten Harry suspended from Horizon High in order to keep a closer eye on him, he’d been taking advantage of Harry’s blackouts to attack Spider-Man while framing him. He’d made Harry think he was going crazy. Despite all of that… Norman was still his father. Harry still loved him. He still remembered what it felt like to lose him the first time, to be reunited with him only to watch him degenerate. He couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t lose him again. So, Harry moved. He picked up his flame sword and helped pull his father out of the rubble. There were no thanks, no hugs, no surprise that Harry had seemingly picked him. Just an order.
“Now, destroy Spider-Man. Fulfill the Osborn legacy.”
The sword crackled to life in his hands and Peter begged him not to, he flinched, as if Harry would ever actually hurt him. As if Harry could take the life of his best friend. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. The sword sliced through the restraints, freeing a confused Spider-Man. For a moment all Harry could do was smile at the other. He wasn’t sure if this was making a choice. If he was choosing Peter and their friendship over his father or if he was still hopeful that he could have both. Turning around he decided to keep going. To keep being brave. “I can’t dad!” He said, before steeling his resolve and tossing the sword away. “I mean. I won’t.”
The look on Norman’s face was one he was used to. One that still hurt and would always hurt no matter how many times he saw it. No matter what he knew about his father and the kind of person he was. Angry disappointment. “Then you’ve failed me and deserve what you’ve wrought.” He spat out. Angry. Hateful. Before Harry could see where this went, if he would now have to fight his own father, something behind him exploded and Harry watched as his father disappeared in fire, smoke, and debris for a second time. This time, however, there’s no anger. No one to wrongfully blame. It hurt but there was nothing left to do but move on. “We have to get out of here.”
He chanced a look back on his way out, watched as the building burned. He closed his eyes for a moment and only a moment but, when he opened them again, it was gone. The abandoned lab, New York, Spider-Man. It was just Harry, alone on his glider in the middle of a street covered in snow. Had he… had he blacked out again? His father had lied about a lot of things but maybe there was some truth to that. Maybe. He looked around frantic and, maybe, a little scared.
“Pete?!” He called to the empty street before remembering what the other had said that morning. Had it only been that morning? “Spider-Man! Come on! I know you’re around here.” He had to be.