The Goblin cackles.
Each enraged impact to his skull only fuels the fire, taunting this half-pint "Peter Parker" with a whistle and a blade. Webbing sticks his foot to the ground, only for a moment, and yet the fight immediately turns in the Spider's favor. The wind is forcefully pushed from his lungs as Peter whips the Goblin to the ground with more webbing, and punches to the face certainly don't ease the mild shock. Goblin staggers to the ground, sitting on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath.
A familiar bolt of adrenaline shivers through his body as Spider-Man picked up his glider, teeth bared with the intent to kill.
This is it, Norman. Stabbed by our own glider. This is our reward.
But... instead of the sweet impact of death washing over him like a spray of blood, a flash of a different kind of red engulfs his vision.
Peter. His own Spider-Man. Protecting him?
No, no, that wouldn't do at all.
It's almost gratifying to see the Spider-Man of his universe topple over from a stab wound, what he had wanted to happen before... well, before he was sent to this hellhole. Goblin turns towards the younger Parker, hellbent on stabbing him too.
But he doesn't get that chance.
He gets stabbed instead. But not the way he wanted.
A syringe was quickly injected into his neck, burning engulfing his senses as the Goblin practically writhed in Norman's mind. No no NO! IT CAN'T END LIKE THIS! NORMAN-
---
Norman collapses onto his knees, blinking the haze from his eyes.
What... happened?
"...Peter?" the man rasps, looking up at the vaguely familiar boy that just stared back with round eyes. Eyes swimming with emotion and regret. And he was wearing the- a Spider-Man outfit... but it wasn't-
Norman slowly turns to the body lying next to him, the real Peter looking back with a relieved smile, clutching his abdomen that had a slight rosier tint behind the gloved hand.
"What have I done?" he whispers, turning away to stare blankly at the ground before him.
He waits for a scathing remark to hiss at him, the Goblin flashing in his mind. But... there's nothing.
Just a bleak emptiness. A void. Something missing.
It'd been far too long since he could hear his own thoughts, and it felt far too odd. With the emptiness came the soul-crushing realization. The months of terror he inflicted upon the city. The men and women he killed in cold blood. Each scream echoed in his mind, despite the Goblin not being there- hell, even the green of his mask was gone from his mind's eye.
What had he done?
Norman just stares off as the three Spider-Men hug and say their farewells. He stares as Otto slowly descends the Statue of Liberty to approach him. Only before he's whisked away back home, he looks up at the young Peter Parker.
Nothing he could ever say would allow the boy to forgive him. So he just stares with regret as the world turns into pure light, fading away to reveal a green Liberty with a simple torch instead of the broken shield in the other universe.
Here they were.
Alive.
"Mr. Osborn?"
That voice. Aged beyond what he'd only heard before the portal appeared and stole him away.
Norman looked up at Peter vacantly, almost afraid to speak in case the younger man did anything rash. "Are you okay?"
"He's gone. The voices, the anger..."
Peter smiles, his face crinkling up in that childlike joy Norman knew too well. "It's good to have you back."
---
Norman and Peter slowly walk into the old Osborn mansion, decrepit after years of misuse and abandonment. Dust clung to the once vibrant wooden walls, cobwebs spun to the ceiling- as if Spider-Man had been parading in here, and glass littered the floor.
"Peter... what happened here?"
The still costumed hero pauses for a moment, brows crinkling together in worry. He can hardly bear to look Norman in the eye. He knew this was coming, but it didn't make the news any harder to reveal to the formerly dead man.
"Mr. Osborn- erm, Norman... it's been 19 years since you- died," Peter waved his hand briefly, awkwardly gesturing to Norman. "Nobody has lived here for..."
Peter stops himself, swallowing a lump building up in his throat, finally breaking his gaze away from Norman's- not able to watch as his face morphed into desperation.
"Wh-where's Harry?" Norman asks waveringly, body shaking with fear. 19 years... it had been that long?
He watches as Peter swallows again, a gloved hand grasping his chin as Peter fought with himself to explain everything to Norman. He begins to grow impatient.
"Where is he?!?" Norman shouts, arms quivering as the sudden noise rattles the walls.
"Harry- Harry died."
The world seems to twist on itself as the news hits Norman.
"There was a fight and he- he sacrificed himself to save me and Mary Jane..."
Peter's voice fades as shock settles into Norman's psyche, and the former owner of Oscorp falls to his knees, staring at his hands as he begins to shiver. He wraps his arms around himself and doubles over slowly, hyperventilating helplessly on the damaged ground. "Norman!"
Peter places his hands on Norman's shoulders, crouched next to him as the older man's gasping turns into wailing.
"My boy! My poor boy...!"
Peter feels tears fall down his own face as Norman weeps onto the ground, embracing the man in silence.
Norman, you fool. This is your fault. YOU did this! You killed your son!
Not the Goblin's voice. That man was long gone. The only thing he heard was himself.
Oh, what had he done?