Set in Motion
‘What have I done?’
Norman’s own words continued to echo in his head after the maniacal laughter of the goblin finally dissipated, leaving Norman’s mind feeling hollow and his body weakened. Even after the sky split apart, after countless enemies stared down from countless worlds, even after he witnessed his own hands fade from existence, Norman sat still and silent.
–
For a moment, Norman felt at peace. The warm glow of a blinding light enveloped him, and his thoughts were finally free of the serum’s influence. But all too soon he watched as his surroundings filled back in and felt countless aches and bruises take their toll as his form was made physical again.
“Peter…?” Norman’s voice came out hoarse and shaky. “What happened?” He asked, staring with concern at the young man before him. They were in some sort of abandoned building, surrounded by dark walls covered in cobwebs and vines. A great deal of dust and small bits of debris were falling around them, as though this decrepit structure had recently faced a second reckoning. Peter’s Spider-Man suit was torn, he was covered in slashes and blood, and his fists were raised as though he were hesitant but ready to strike. It took Norman a moment to realize he was still viewing this all through the yellow lenses of the goblin mask. He took it off and let it fall unceremoniously beside him.
Norman knew the answer to his own question- at least partially. The goblin within must have gained control again. But Norman was cured now, wasn’t he? Norman could feel that the effects of the performance enhancers were gone. Some part of him knew that was the truth. And yet, when he tried to think of how or why, the answer was missing. It was as though a fog had clouded parts of his memory, but it was different from how his thoughts were altered as the goblin.
A small vibration at Norman’s wrist jolted him out of his dazed state; it was feedback from the controls for the glider and pumpkin bombs. He realized that behind Peter, the goblin’s glider was hidden and waiting to strike. Norman deactivated it hastily and noticed how Peter visibly relaxed, as though the hero had somehow known about the imminent danger. Spider-Man reached out a hand and tried to help pull Norman up. However, as Norman stood, he was hit with all the fatigue of what felt like several days of physical combat and mental struggle. His knees buckled, and his vision went dark.
As Norman drifted in and out of consciousness, he felt the strange sensation of falling while being carried. At one point, he was able to make out the dark surroundings of his parlor and the face of his son staring in disbelief from the other end of the room. Harry’s expression turned dark, and he rushed forward. “What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” Harry yelled at someone next to Norman. There were only the sounds of rushing wind and a fluttering curtain in response.
–
Norman’s eyes slowly opened to find he was now lying in his bedroom rather than the parlor. In a chair by the door, a hunched figure slowly came into focus. The person’s face was partially illuminated by crisp lines of mid-morning sunlight that had found their way through the heavy curtains of the master bedroom. “Harry?” Norman said, his voice gruff from a long period of unuse.
Harry’s face instantly lifted from his nervously clasped hands to look up at the bed. “Dad, you-” Harry cut himself off in a rush to stand and move closer to the bedside. “Are you really awake? How are you feeling?” He asked, his brow furrowed deeply with stress and concern.
“I’m alright, Harry. How long have I…?”
“It’s been a few days. You’ve been sort of in and out. The doctors kept telling me you’d make a full recovery, but I needed to be sure- to see for myself. Dad… the state you were in…do you remember?” Harry’s voice dipped with a tinge of malice as he continued, “What the hell did Spider-Man do to you?”
Norman winced slightly at that last question. It seemed Peter had kept their secrets, and Norman would have to thank him for that later. But now Norman had to find the words to answer his son. “I…can’t remember much, but Spider-Man… saved me.” A partial truth would have to suffice until he had more time to think things through.
“He saved you?” Harry sat back for a moment, his expression still heavy with concern but now also with confusion. “Do you remember any more? I mean, why were you out so late? You didn’t even call a driver-” he stopped himself and shook his head. “Nevermind, I’m sorry. I should be letting you rest, not interrogating you.” He finished with a short, strained laugh.
“It’s alright, Harry. I’ll tell you more when I can.” Norman turned his head away to look towards the windows, “Go get some rest now. You shouldn’t have to see me like this.” Part of him regretted sending his son away, keeping the distance between them. Part of him, for some reason, felt like he had already lost Harry for good.
“Don’t worry about me, dad.” Harry forced himself to smile before heading towards the doorway. He couldn’t stop thinking about that night; he couldn’t stop thinking about how, for a moment, his father’s battered body had been so still and quiet- as though he had already passed.
Harry couldn’t stop thinking about how he could have sworn he saw guilt written on the half-masked face of a so-called ‘hero’.
With one hand lingering on the doorframe, Harry was already outside the room by the time Norman called out, “Thank you, Harry. For staying with me.”
“Of course.” Harry called back, then lowered his voice to a near-whisper, “And you don’t need to thank me- not until I find out what happened to you. Not until I find who did this to you.”
Harry finally released his grip on the doorframe, leaving his father to stare at the empty doorway.
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