"Wake up, please," A voice said, softly and slowly.
"No," Harry mumbled, shaking his head slightly.
"This is important, I need you to wake up, please," The voice said gently.
"Don't wanna," Harry groaned tiredly.
"Wake up, please,"
"Fuck off, Hermione, the homework's not due for another month," Harry yawned. "I sleep now." Sounds of laughter rang in his ears but he did his best to ignore them.
"Okay, well, I tried it the nice way," The voice said with a tone of faux regret before a loud noise near his ear shook Harry out of his sleep.
The young man's head shot up, his eyes blinked as he looked around and found himself in his history class with the whole class staring at him, his history teacher standing in front of him with her hand on his desk, looking decidedly unimpressed.
"Awake, are we Mr Osborn?" She asked, sounding equally unimpressed.
"I assure you that my brain is quite capable of functioning even whilst I'm sleeping, it had picked up every single word that you had said," Harry bull-shited.
"Really, if that's the case then what was Hitler's first name?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Adolf," Harry blinked, surprised at receiving such an easy question.
"Good, now explain to the class what I had just told them about Hitler's nose," She said in a challenging voice.
"Um...you...you didn't like it," Harry guessed.
"No, I...well...you are actually right, I did not like it, but what I had actually been discussing with the class was not Hitler and was actually the differences between the suffragettes and the suffragists. Now, perhaps you can tell me when the...are you kidding me?" She turned to see Peter sitting at the back of the class, his head in his arms as he lightly snored, the class followed her gaze and soon began giggling and laughing.
"Okay, I know why I fell asleep in class, had a busy night of fighting criminals, what's your excuse?" Harry asked Peter as the two walked to their next class along with Gwen.
"I was up late, working on some ideas," Peter explained.
"Like what?" Gwen asked curiously.
"I've got ideas for lots of stuff," Peter grinned. "Since I started working on microchips, I've had a few brainwaves. I was thinking up several ways that could increase the efficiency of one whilst decreasing the size and then I had the idea to create a code to monitor regular vital signals. This way we could implement it in something like a medical bracelet that can be sold to hospitals, medical camps, and whatever else may need them. We can use them to monitor heart rate and blood pressure to create medical alerts for potential heart attacks. And then I thought that we could also create an implant version, similar to some of the newly released tech revolving around insulin detection. Theoretically, we can monitor the various chemicals and sugars in the blood, all to detect other medical emergencies."
"That's genius," Harry said with an approving smile. "Could you imagine the look on my dad's face if we started making those?! That'd be huge!"
"We could implement it into your suit!" Gwen smiled brightly. "That way we can monitor you when you're out."
"Cool,"
"Hold your imaginary horses, I'm not done," Peter replied. "I was thinking about your webbing." He told Harry.
"What about it?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, the way I see it, if we can create a permanent version of it that doesn't dissolve or break down, then we can perhaps weave them into something."
"Into what?" Gwen questioned him.
"Anything we want, but I was thinking we put into clothes or any other wearable fabrics," Peter answered. "Considering the strength of the wedding, it could be woven into a fibre mesh material that could be incredibly cut-resistant and bulletproof when woven into layers, I estimate it could probably have no problem tanking 45 calibre rounds. If we combined it with a Kevlar mesh, then it can possibly tank a few 50-calibre rounds, and hopefully be resistant to armour-piercing rounds below 50 calibre. I think at least, I don't know much about guns and I was doing the research half-asleep, so I'm going to have to double-check it later. Not to mention I have to look up what the differences are between calibre rounds, I've forgotten about five minutes ago."
"Damn Pete, you're really going all in, aren't you?" Harry grinned.
"Yep," Peter said simply. "So, now that class is finished, what's the plan?"
"I don't know about you two," Felicia interrupted as she walked up to the group and looped an arm around Harry's arm. "But I am stealing this one away."
"But I..." Harry began to protest when Felicia raised a finger and pressed it against his lips.
"I know that you're a busy person, especially for someone your age," Felicia said gently, cutting him off. "I can understand that, but that doesn't mean that you're busy all the time. I'm sure that you can spare at least one hour today for me," She smiled gently before she started dragging him away.
"I'll meet you guys in a bit," Harry mouthed to his two friends. "Where are we going?" Harry asked Felicia.
"Somewhere very important," Felicia said simply before continuing to lead them on. After a short walk, the two of them eventually reached the rooftop of the school.
"Alright, I'll bite, what are we doing up here?" Harry asked curiously.
"I just wanted some alone time with my boyfriend," Felicia said innocently as she firmly pulled Harry close enough that they were practically mashed against each other. "Is that so wrong?"
"Yes," Harry smiled as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "There will be a fine of a fuck-load of snogging,"
"Snogging, so British," Felicia laughed lightly before grabbing his head and pulling him into a firm kiss.
"So, had a good hour with Felicia?" Gwen asked Harry over the phone as Harry rode back home in the Osborn limo. Harry wasn't quite sure why but for some reason his father had come today to pick him up.
"It was perfectly enjoyable," Harry answered simply, whilst resisting the urge to triple-check that Felicia had not left any bite marks on his neck, having already checked for them twice. That was not something he wanted his father to see, or worse, his mother. "Anyway, I'll call you back later." He told her.
"Okay, see you later, Harry," Gwen told him before the call disconnected, Harry turned to his father in time to see him disconnect his own call.
"So, Dad, not that I'm complaining, but how come you've come to pick me up today?" Harry asked curiously.
"Well, Son, it's quite simple. I wanted to," Norman said bluntly. "I feel we have not had much alone time, you and I, not recently anyway."
"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerely. "I'm not trying to ignore you or Mum on purpose, I just..."
"I know, Harry, I know," Norman gently interrupted. "Work is work, I myself am often fairly busy, as you well know."
"Hmm," Harry hummed but did not say more. It was true that Norman Osborn was an incredibly busy man, one does not simply become as successful as him without a lot of hard work. Harry supposed that if he was just a simple and regular child then maybe he might have been a bit angry with Norman for how often the man was absent. However, Harry did know and understand that Norman truly loved spending time with him and Emily, plus Harry could also understand why the man was always so busy. Not to mention that despite this all, Norman was still leagues better than Harry's previous guardians.
"Still, I do my best to make time for yourself and your mother," Norman continued. "You spend the majority of your week at school and then you straight away head to your room or your friend's houses or the lab."
"I'm sorry, Father," Harry apologised. "But for what it's worth, we are doing some really great work and are accomplishing so much. Peter has recently had the idea to create special..."
"I'm sure that if whatever idea he has is feasible then you can write me up a report," Norman cut him off. "My point is that it would behove you to spend some more time with the family. If not me then at least your mother, Harold. As much as she stays silent on the matter, she does miss spending time with you."
"Right," Harry said in a quiet voice. "I'm sorry, I shall do my best to spend some more time with you both."
"Excellent," Norman said as the car slowed down before eventually stopping. "Ah, we're here."
"Where is here?" Harry asked.
"A shooting range," Norman answered. "My father taught me how to shoot when I was your age, and now I am going to teach you."
"Awesome!" Harry grinned.
"So," Emily asked when the two Osborn males returned home. "How was the shooting range?" She asked, sitting on a sofa with a laptop placed on the table in front of her.
"It was alright," Harry said with a small smile, earning a disbelieving look from Norman.
"The boy's a natural," Norman told his wife, sounding quite proud. "Within a minute he was consistently hitting the targets in the centre and hadn't missed for the rest of our session there."
"It wasn't that hard," Harry shrugged.
"Not that hard?" Norman gaped. "You tried and damn near mastered every type of gun they had."
"Not that hard," Harry repeated with another shrug of his shoulders. "Just take a shot to see what it feels like then use that as your baseline for your next shots."
"Yeah, well for us mere mortals it's a lot harder than that," Emily said, shaking her head at the casual instructions that Harry had given.
"Have you ever been shooting, Mum?" Harry asked curiously. His curiosity had only shot up when his mother quickly started blushing.
"I don't want to talk about it," She said simply before turning back to her laptop.
"Don't ask," Norman said before Harry could even look at him. Without another word, Norman gave Harry a nod before walking off, presumably to go to his office.
"Hmm," Harry hummed thoughtfully. Using a gun was a lot easier than he had thought it would be, which meant that either everyone else made the entire process sound harder than it looked or it was simply just another one of the things that made him different. He was always good with his accuracy, even when he was shooting spells with his wand. To him, it simply wasn't that hard, shoot the thing once or twice and establish a baseline, then he would simply do some quick mental gymnastics to calculate angles, wind drag, etcetera. 'Honestly, what's so hard about it?' He couldn't help but wonder.
Still, it did lead him to an idea he had been considering for a while, perhaps it was time to get more offensive in his arsenal. Perhaps he could install a gun of some sort into his webshooters, on the one hand, that could be a really great offensive weapon, on the other hand, he wasn't really actively going out of his way to try and kill people, so would a gun really be a good idea? Harry moved towards his room, intent on making some notes, before stopping and spotting his mother, his father's earlier words rang in his head.
'I suppose a few minutes wouldn't hurt,' He thought to himself.
"So Mum," Harry said as he walked over and sat next to her. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm planning Oscorp's charity ball," She told him. "All proceeds will go towards helping those in other countries that are less fortunate than us,"
"Didn't we already do one of those a few months ago?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, but we didn't solve world hunger with that last one, mainly because that one was for cancer research," She shrugged her shoulders in a 'what can you do?' sort of manner. "Your father has told me that Oscorp is planning various different things to help like building cheaper solar-powered equipment, simple to use water filters, etc."
"That's great," Harry said approvingly. "Do you want some help?" He offered.
"That would be appreciated," Emily smiled brightly at him.
"I'm arriving at Tombstone's place," Spiderman said as he landed on top of a nearby rooftop.
"Are you sure that this is the place?" Gwen's voice asked through his earpiece.
"Well, it's the location that Robbie gave me," He replied, looking around at the street. Thankfully it didn't appear to be busy.
"I sent an anonymous tip to the police, they should be moving Robbie's family somewhere safe, hopefully," Gwen told him. "Harry, I'm worried about Peter,"
"Anything specific?" He asked.
"He's spending way too much time in the lab recently, he was always hard working but this is on another level. Earlier, I phoned his aunt and uncle, and they told me that he's been sleeping non-stop since he came back home and that's when he isn't stuck in his basement. Something's wrong with him,"
"I sincerely hope he has not started taking drugs," Spiderman replied before using his thermal version on the building where Tombstone is supposed to be.
"I don't think so, but we should talk with him at some point," Gwen replied. "How's it looking?"
"Like a nightclub," Spiderman replied. "Plenty of heat signatures on the bottom floor, a couple on the second, a small group on the third floor. That'll be Tombstone's hideaway."
"Do you think he chose the name 'Tombstone' himself?" Gwen couldn't ask.
"Don't be ridiculous, Gwen, obviously his mother chose it." He told her before leaping up into the air and swinging towards the building, landing on the side of the building, he crawled upwards before reaching a ventilation grill, sticking a hand to it, he pulled it off the side of the building before crawling into the ventilation shafts. "Not going to lie, this is surprisingly clean." He commented before crawling forward, eventually finding his way towards a ventilation grill above Tombstone's room, allowing him to look down and see Tombstone, looking exactly as Robbie had described, standing opposite him were three men dressed in business suits.
"Really, I don't see what the problem is," Tombstone said, spitting out a cigar from his mouth, carelessly allowing it to drop onto the floor. "I did as the big guy instructed."
"You were indeed successful," One of the men replied. "On one of your missions, unfortunately, the target is still alive and is now in police custody."
"So what?" Tombstone shrugged. "Get one of your hundreds of guys to sort it out."
"Having our men do it increases the risk of our discovery," The man replied. "That's what you were for,"
"Oh, I get it, so I can increase the chances of my ass going to jail while your boss gets to stay clean, is that it?" Tombstone glared.
"Pretty much," The man replied, seemingly unbothered by Tombstone's clear anger. "I will tell him of your opinion, expect his response to come soon." The man told him. "Do you have the product ready?" He asked.
"Right there," Tombstone grunted, gesturing at a green canister that was placed off on the side. "I'll set up the delivery soon, pending his response, of course. There's the door," He told them whilst pointing behind them. The men all sent him dismissive looks before turning and leaving. "Assholes," Tombstone muttered.
'What's in the canister?' Spiderman wondered, he leaned forward, hoping to get a closer look when suddenly the ceiling creaked. 'Shit,' He thought. 'Hopefully the guy doesn't notice.' He hoped, but reality soon disappointed him when he felt his spider-sense go wild. Not even a second later, a pale white hand burst through the ceiling to grab him by his leg.
"Crap baskets!" He blurted out before being pulled down and slammed onto the floor.
"Lookie here, look like I got a spider infestation," Tombstone grinned evilly whilst still holding onto Spiderman's leg.
"Only the one spider actually," Spiderman grunted before kicking Tombstone's hand away, Tombstone leapt at him but another kick sent him onto his back. Spiderman quickly jumped to his feet, he rushed towards Tombstone as the pale man got up to his feet and quickly hit him with a two-punch combo to the body before following up with a right hook that caused him to stumble back.
"Not bad," Tombstone chuckled, wiping his mouth with his wrist. "I almost felt that." He grinned before charging forward with surprising speed. Spiderman tried to hit him with a right hook but Tombstone quickly ducked under and lifted him into the air with a hard left uppercut to the gut, followed by a right hook to the face that sent him flying into the nearest wall. Tombstone didn't stop there and rushed forward and hit him with a trio of body shots before grabbing him by the neck. "You know, you're not really living up to the stories I hear about you," Tombstone whispered as he stared down at him. "You're definitely a lot smaller than I imagined."
"Eat a breath mint, cunt," Spiderman grunted before shooting two webs at the opposite wall and placing a foot on Tombstone's stomach. He pulled on the webs, throwing Tombstone and himself towards the wall, Tombstone crashed through the wall while he managed to right himself in the air and land halfway across the room. He quickly rushed towards the canister and read the label on it. "Diox-3?" He read just as the door to the room opened up to reveal a guard with a machine gun.
"Boss, I heard some noise and..." The guard paused as he spotted Spiderman. "What are you doing here?!" He grunted before firing at him, Spiderman quickly ducked down to avoid the bullets before jumping and sticking on the nearby wall to avoid the next round. Unfortunately, one of the bullets ended up hitting the canister, causing a mist of green gas to shoot out, covering Spiderman in it.
"Shit!" The guard blurted out, no longer shooting.
"What the..." Spiderman trailed off as he suddenly lost his grip on the wall and fell to the ground, coughing violently. "What did you do to me?!" He gasped as his body started shaking. He coughed even harder, feeling his vision narrow, his breathing became shorter, and pain shot throughout his body. The pain was later increased when Tombstone burst through the wall and instantly kicked him straight in the ribs, sending him flying through the opposite wall and down towards the street where his back crashed into a lamppost before he fell straight to the street, landing face first. "Fuck," He groaned, his head clearing just enough for him to climb to his feet and see Tombstone standing at the hole in the building whilst aiming a gun at him. Tombstone fired at him, his spider-sense kicked in and he felt his body move automatically to avoid the gunfire, without even thinking about it he fired a web line and swung away whilst avoiding several more bullets.
As soon as he hit the air he quickly took control of his body and swung to a nearby rooftop, making sure he was far enough away and that nobody else was nearby, he allowed himself to collapse onto the ground and promptly began removing his mask. He had barely been down for a few seconds when he suddenly felt the mother of all headaches hit him, for several seconds he could do nothing but groan before the pain died down.
"What the fuck was that?" He gasped.