The Letter
In the days that followed, Norman remained in bed, attempting to rest. He was still quite weak in both body and mind; his doctor reminded him about the effects of stress on the body and warned that he would have to learn how to take breaks from work. However, Norman theorized that his slowed healing was a repercussion of his work in a different way. He was suffering from the lack of a certain performance enhancer.
With each day, a new batch of bouquets and get-well cards replaced the last. They were only customary gestures: byproducts of being a CEO with countless impersonal connections and obligations owed to him.
But one envelope caught Norman’s eye. It was plain, unaccompanied by flowers and fruit, and it was addressed to him with handwriting that he hadn’t seen in years but that he knew almost as well as his own. “A letter from Otto Octavius…” Norman mused and ran his fingers across the dry ink. He hesitated before tearing at the paper.
Why would Otto reach out to him now? Though Octavius was always the better man, Norman couldn’t imagine that he would want to reconnect.
Especially not if he knew what Norman had done.
Osborn felt the rather unfamiliar pang of shame making itself known deep within his chest. Otto would think him a monster, and he would be right. He had always been right about Norman, but Norman had to learn that the hard way, through blood and anger and fear, as both monster and victim.
Finally he reached for a letter opener on the bedside table, slit the top edge of the envelope, and pulled out the card that lay within. The card was also rather plain, but it was constructed of quality cardstock and had ‘Get Well Soon’ printed on the front in elegant cursive. On the back was a handwritten message. It was clear that Otto had taken his time in writing the note; the messiness of his signature style was restrained, but to Norman it was still unmistakable. A person’s handwriting was something you got to know well when you knew them as lab partner, roommate, and potential business partner.
The note read:
‘Dear Norman,
It’s rather unlike you to let something keep you from your work. The Norman Osborn I knew was a force to be reckoned with. I hope I don’t have to start calling you ‘old man’.
Joking aside, I’m worried about you. The media hasn’t released any details, but I know it must be serious. Rosie and I are wishing you a swift and full recovery.
I know we haven’t spoken in some time, but I hope you’ll find it sincere when I say I’m still here for you if you need me. I’m sorry for the way we left things off.
Otto Octavius’
–
The next few months passed without much incident for Norman. His wounds healed with only a few leaving faint scars, and his normal strength returned for the most part. There were still times when he felt and thought things he couldn’t explain and had snippets of memory he couldn’t quite parse or place. He didn’t risk telling anyone about these things. The less that people looked into his ‘accident’, the better.
Only a small and incredibly vague set of details was passed along to the media: in summary, Oscorp Industries CEO Norman Osborn was involved in an accident but made a full recovery. Regardless, he stepped down from his position, and a new set of board members were brought in to replace him and those who were lost in the attack on the Unity Festival.
Leaving his position at Oscorp left Norman unsettled and restless. He had built Oscorp from the ground up, fought tooth and nail with his competitors, sacrificed his time and his relationships for his dream of greatness. He had killed for that company.
But he couldn’t risk being high-profile anymore. He swallowed the bitter sting of failure and took the steps needed to fade from the eyes and minds of the public.
He took some comfort in believing that Harry would eventually rise to the top, take up his old mantle, and become what he was meant to be- what Norman had raised him to be. Norman wouldn’t have left Oscorp without a back-up plan. Norman wasn’t the type to relinquish control so easily.
And Harry easily stepped into his new role as Head of Special Projects. He was ambitious, slick, and- to the surprise of the other executives and his own father- rather adept at selecting profitable scientific projects to invest in and partner with. It was clear to most at Oscorp that the young Osborn had something to prove.
While Harry was busy with his work, Norman tried to find distractions to fill some of the extra time he had. He made casual appearances at art shows, charity events, wine tastings; he needed everything about him to seem ‘normal’, and he also tried for once to listen to all the nonsense about smelling roses. Despite his efforts, he was haunted by his old life- haunted by his greatest success, his greatest failure.
When he could resist the draw of it no longer, he resumed his work on the performance enhancers using old drafts and formulas kept in his study, quietly drawing on Oscorp resources when necessary. Like much of his private life, he kept this a secret from everyone, including Harry.
Another specter of Norman’s past was his long-dead relationship with the brilliant Doctor Octavius. Every time Norman thought about the get-well card, which was far more often than he liked, he had a hard time getting himself to stop thinking about it.
There was a time when Osborn and Octavius had been close, almost inseparable. They met as lab partners, became roommates, and then spent countless days and nights during their undergraduate years, studying and sharing their dreams and their latest theories. They kept in contact even when they continued their academic careers in separate fields at different schools.
Before Oscorp was a company, before it even had a name, it was a shared dream between the two young men. It was a place they hoped to create together- a place where they could work together to research the unknown, to make the impossible possible, and to become the greatest names in the scientific world.
What they didn’t realize was that they imagined differing paths for the pursuit of their dream.
Norman was fixated on projected profits and growth- why not change the world and get rich doing it? With his business proclivities, and his and Otto’s minds working together, they could build an empire. Barely out of college, Norman already had his eyes on a lucrative arms deal with the military. Norman would make sure that he and Otto would never have to worry about costs or competitors. They would achieve greatness, just like they had hoped.
Otto clung tight to his ideals. He didn’t want to run a cold and uncaring business, and he didn’t need to build an empire. He saw visions of a brighter future- literally. His research on fusion led him to believe he could create a sustained chain reaction that would lead to clean, renewable energy for all on the planet. He wanted to do the impossible- to hold the power of the sun in the palm of his hand. And he believed he could do it without any unsavory methods.
The more they discussed and considered their future endeavors, the more divided they became. This and all the years of unresolved issues between them escalated into a night of painful truths and broken promises, a night they both tried to forget. And with that they parted ways.
So it truly was jarring to Norman that decades later he received well wishes from his former friend. What had changed? Did Octavius have an ulterior motive? That didn’t seem like Otto, but they hadn't really spoken for years. Maybe things were different now. Maybe Otto was different now.
These thoughts and many others filled Norman’s mind as he worked on the new version of his performance enhancers. Though he considered it often, he never sent a letter in return or reached out. What needed to be said had already been spoken, and Norman saw no need to apologize for his decisions. Oscorp was powerful, he was one of the most influential men in his industry, and he had paved the way for his son to continue his legacy. There was no apology to be made. Otto could be sentimental and dwell on the past all he wanted to, but Norman had unfinished business to attend to. He couldn’t let himself become distracted again by Octavius’ childish ideals. No matter how much he wanted to hear Otto’s stupid jokes again. No matter how much he wanted that brilliant mind - his equal - at his side.