Peter managed to do a couple of errands that he had planned before he returned sometime around four in the afternoon. It was just in time to see his aunt wake up. Liz returned there around that time as well, after she checked up on a few things.
He did enjoy meeting up with Aunt May again, even if it was not under the best circumstances. After Richard Parker died and his mother married Norman Osborn, Peter didn't really see his aunt and uncle too many times. Things got really strained there. He hated that but that was just the way that things were going.
His aide was calmly sitting in the corner, avoiding eye contact with everyone. The stern reprimand he gave her earlier put her back into line. Sometimes you had to do that. Peter didn't need things to be any more strained and he was forever apologizing to Harry for her conduct. He took personal responsibility for it.
"And I'm pretty sure that Uncle Ben would want us to remember the good times that we were in and wanted life to go on," Peter was telling his aunt as he lingered outside of the door.
May gave him a watery smile and shrug. "No, not at all. He always talked about how that you just needed to buck up and get on with your life if it handed your hardships."
"Wise words from a wise man," Peter said. He was glad to see that she was back on her feet or at least as back on her feet as she ever was going to be. "It's a shame that the last time we…well it's just a shame that we didn't mend the fences."
"Ben said things that he regretted all the way to the grave," May said, trying to appease the situation.
"I know, and he has every right to speak his opinion," Peter conceded. "I might have done the same if I was in his shoes. But what's done is done now, and we got to move on with life. Otherwise, what's the point in living?"
It was a busy day with many people coming in and out to pay their respects to the situation. Anna Watson came in a few times during the day to check up on May. The food May made didn't go to waste either. That was the most important thing.
"We better get going, it's getting rather late," Peter said, and he focused on Harry and May. "If you need anything…"
"We know, and thanks," Harry told him with a smile on his face.
"Yes, thank you, Peter," May commented to him.
"Sorry, I better get going, and I'm sorry about your loss Mrs. Parker," Liz commented. She hoped to stick around a bit longer but she knew that if she was out much later, her father might as well kill her or worse ground her.
"You're not thinking about walking home in the dark, are you?" Peter asked her. Liz was taken off guard by that sudden act of concern. She nodded slowly but Peter shook his head in negative. "I'll drive you home."
Liz gave one of those pressing looks towards Peter's assistant and returned her gaze back to Peter. The girl frowned when she spoke. "Um, that's not going to be a problem, is it?"
Peter frowned and he got instantly why Liz might think that could be a problem.
"Trust me, that's not going to be a problem at all," Peter told Liz firmly and without another word, he lead her out the door.
"Have a good night, Liz," Harry called after her. She stopped, turned around, and smiled.
"You too Harry…..try not to work too hard."
Peter cracked a smile. "That will be the day…..when my cousin doesn't take too much on."
Peter left with Liz in tow and his aide following at his heels.
'If looks could kill,' Harry thought. He provided himself on his great observational skills and what he was observing was a look that caused the room to chill.
He half paid attention to Anna and May talking about something. He saw a figure make her way up the stairs. Her redhair was tied back and she was dressed casually in a black shirt, a jean jacket, jeans, and boots.
"Sorry, I couldn't come sooner," Mary Jane said, greeting Harry at the door. "I couldn't get time up because JJJ, the compassionate soul that he is, wouldn't give it to me."
"Say no more," Harry said when he led her inside. "Busy day?"
"You tell me, and we'll both know," Mary Jane said, cracking a grin on her face. She smiled and she leaned out the door to catch Liz right before she left. "You have a good night, Liz."
"You too, MJ," Liz said and Mary Jane turned around with a smile on her face.
"So, thankfully my exposure to Jameson is limited, because Betty's the one working with me the most," Mary Jane said and she sighed. "Of course, your exposure to that guy can't be too limited when you can hear him all the way in Jersey when he's on one of his rants about something or other. I shudder to think what his blood pressure is like. And his indoor voice is nonexistent. Got to give him credit for being someone who was able to keep print media alive. Because we all know how much that's struggling."
Harry smiled and he pushed his back against the wall. He was about ready to slide against the wall and that caused Mary Jane to be alarmed.
"Harry, are you alright?" she asked and rushed over towards him. She took his hand and helped him up to his feet.
"Just I've been working hard all day, and well last night was a long night as well," Harry said.
Mary Jane nodded in sympathy. She held her arms around Harry when she held him up.
"You know, I'm surprised that Gwen isn't here," Mary Jane said when she looked at him. "Have you heard from her at all?"
Harry shook his head. "I hadn't heard from Gwen all day. Left her a text message but she hasn't called back yet.
"Hmm," Mary Jane murmured. "Maybe it's just me, but I think she has one of those guilt complex things about what happened. I don't even know why. I guess it could because we saw suspect number one, but no one…..no one would have been able to blame her for what happened. I mean, she's being really unfair with herself. She's being completely harsh on herself and it's insane."
Mary Jane realized she descended into a fit of mindless babbling. Harry held his arms around her waist and held her up.
"Oh this is nice," MJ whispered in his ear without regret. Harry raised his eyebrow. "You know, we should stay like this for a while…..sorry I didn't mean to…"
"Don't worry, I know that you didn't mean to," Harry told her with a smile and he didn't retract his arms from around her at all.
Mary Jane sighed; she really needed to work on that entire putting her foot in her mouth thing.
Norman Osborn was busy at work while his son was talking to him from the doorway. He heard every word that his spawn said but he didn't seem to be too bothered in interacting with it.
Harold cleared his throat and Norman calmly worked through what he needed to do. "Yes?"
"Didn't you hear a word that I said?" Harold asked.
Norman gave one of those long sighs that had been long since practiced because of dealing with ingrates on a day to day basis. "Yes, Harry, I heard you. I am blessed with the extraordinary ability to multitask, something that you should try to learn some time. You may accidentally get something accomplished."
"You were sitting there and you didn't say a word," the younger Osborn whispered, getting completely hot under the collar. His fists clenched together when he looked at his father.
"You told me that you wanted to go to California for the rest of the summer," Norman said crisply and calmly. "The one thing I don't understand is why you even bothered to tell me anyway. You're sixteen, almost seventeen years old. You're almost old enough to vote, although I highly recommend you don't because I don't trust you to make informed choices."
Harold Osborn felt like something hard and sharp slapped him off of his face. His father's words, they always cut into him deeply. He never had a good word to say to him at all.
Norman's eyes reverted back to his report. He didn't really make any eye contact to begin with anyway.
"You don't need my permission and you don't need me to hold your hand every step of the way. You want to do something, you do it. You just accept the consequences of what you do and know that I won't bail you out. If you want to go to California, then go to California. If you don't, then don't. I never had this problem with Peter."
That one statement caused Harold's eye to twitch. He started breathing in and out. It would have to be his oh so perfect brother being brought up for him. He felt like a dog that was getting his nose rubbed into something extremely smelly.
"Guess you want me to go now, don't you?" Harold asked in a condescending voice.
Norman didn't even bother to look up from the report. He could hear his son go all huffily from his office like a spurned teenage girl. The young man nearly bumped into the approaching Otto Octavius. The scientist stepped back, with a bemused glance. This allowed Harold to storm down the hallway.
Otto casually made his strides into his office. He sat down right in front of Norman and peered into his eyes. He corked his eyebrow when he looked at the OsCorp head.
Otto couldn't decide whether he wanted to be amused or annoyed. He waited several moments for Osborn to acknowledge his presence. There was something about that which made him think that it wasn't going to happen. So it was up to the scientist to be the one to break the ice and more importantly the silence.
"Trouble?"
Norman's gaze shifted up towards Otto's. He shook his head.
"Not really," Norman commented in a dismissive voice. "My son decided that now would be the proper time for him to stop by and show me that his balls have dropped, that he's a big boy now."
Norman made one final note.
"It would be far more impressive if he didn't act like such a sniveling coward," Norman commented, and he finally locked eyes with Otto.
Otto knew better than to say anything. His verbal language was the one that said all, along with one arched eyebrow that made him resemble Spock.
"I never have these problems with Peter, unless you count the company he decides to keep," Norman commented and he turned his full undivided attention towards her. "And Harry…the good Harry…he's a young man that you would be proud to have as your son. Or you would if you had any children, Otto."
"Of course, sir," Otto commented in a conversational manner.
"Just as well of a son, and he picks up the slack where certain people have left off," Norman added.
Outside of the office, Harold heard every cutting word. It wasn't the first time that he heard it. He heard it said to his face more times than he could really count.
To hear it said to a co-worker, someone outside of the family, that was far more of a slap to the face. Harold saw those sharp works given by his father to be a betrayal.
"You bastard," Harold hissed through his teeth outside of the office.
He didn't have the stones to go back into the office and confront him. He was about ready to storm off and throw a hissy fit. Harold managed to hold himself in line, not to make a public spectacle of himself.
He calmly walked down the hallway and pulled out a cell phone. He dialed up a number and tried to cope with the disappointment that he had such a rotten father in the only way he knew how.
"Yeah, you got the hook up?" Harold asked. "Because I've got the cash…yeah the good stuff…..you know how my father is. I'm leaving today, and I'll meet you out there."
It would serve Norman right if something happened to him out in California. Harold cracked his knuckles and prepared to pack up for this trip. He didn't need his father's permission to do anything.
Otto frowned extremely deeply at Norman's words but he tried not to show it. He did have similar issues with his parents so his sympathies may go towards the younger Osborn. Was he going to say anything? Not if he wanted to keep the harmony with Norman Osborn. A harmonious relationship was the absolute best when dealing with a person such as Norman Osborn.
"Despite our best wishes, one cannot choose their family," Otto commented.
Norman gave a cold and crisp nod in response. "Indeed."
He spent a moment working with the documents on top of his desk. Seconds passed before he decided to bring up a question.
"Speaking of family, how is your wife doing?"
Otto blinked suddenly. Slowly the man reached up and pulled his sunglasses off of his face. The scientist pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dare I ask you how you know about my wife's condition?"
Norman was calm and stiff as could be. "The insurance reports pass through my office. I do take a look at them and unlike some employers; I do take an active interest in the life's of my employees. So, how is she doing?"
Otto placed his sunglasses back on. The man looked forward for several seconds. It was almost like he picked his next words wisely.
"The reports came in and they are inconclusive," Otto stated to Norman. His eyes flashed on the man before him. "Her symptoms indicate though that things aren't looking too favorable."
Norman "hmmed" for a second. Otto detested that for some reason. He knew that there was something grinding in Norman's head right about now.
"Did I ever tell you why I spent so much time and energy creating the Oz Formula, Otto?"
Otto stood up properly to face him. "You told me that it was to cure various diseases, cancer, and the like."
There was nothing that Norman said right now. His facial expressions remained calm and stoic. It was almost like he was trying to piece together his next thought in the back of his mind.
"Was that true, sir?"
"In a sense, it was, but it had a more personal manner in mind," Norman commented, moving his head down so Otto didn't look into his eyes. It was under the pretext of straightening up some files on his desk. Something else was amiss. "It was my first wife Emily. Shortly after our son's birth, she was in and out of the hospital. It was discovered then she was stricken with a rare type of disease. The formula could have been the key to curing her. It could have been the door to redefine everything that humanity is."
Otto blinked and this reaction was Norman's cue to continue.
"For nearly a year, I painstakingly worked on a way to perfect a means to cure her," Norman said. He looked up and faced Otto. There was a brief break of emotion in his voice but the second they made eye contact there was nothing. Norman Osborn wore many masks and this was one of them. "I was at the lab that night, working, when I got the call. She was dead. There was nothing that I could do. The best doctors in the world couldn't have done anything and I failed. For the first time, I failed."
Norman got up and turned away from Otto, looking outside of the window. There was a cold feeling.
"Sir, I'm sorry about what happened."
"Don't apologize, I never do," Norman said without turning around. He looked out over New York City. From this point in his office, he was essentially on the top of the world. "I have power, lots of it. And yet, I failed in my responsibility. The responsibility I took when I married her. It never ends, the feeling, Otto. It was much too late then and it's still much too late for me."
Otto didn't say anything because he didn't know what to say. Norman's voice osculated between tense and pure lack of emotion.
"It's not too late for your wife," Norman continued. "If this is as serious as you think it is and I believe it is, this formula can cure her. It can fix the flaws. No one needs to experience a tragedy like this ever again. You have the personal motivation whilst mine is merely what's best for business now."
Otto couldn't say anything. His superior said more than enough.
"It's not too late," Norman repeated slowly and clearly. "Just remember that."
Otto thought about that and realized that he did have the personal motivation to ensure that this formula was created smoothly.
Gwen dressed in her red and blue free running outfit. The young woman bent down towards the ground, making sure her shoes properly were tied up into place. A headset rested on her ears, which was hooked to a police scanner.
She spent several moments listening. Nothing more important than a traffic violation came over the network. She began to think that this entire exercise was an exercise in futility.
Gwen calmly rose to her feet and shook her head. She didn't give up that easily, far from it. The blonde gave an extremely labored sigh and started to stretch her legs out. Everything Harry told her about being limber was reflected in her mind.
So far, it was so good, at least that's what she thought. The blonde placed her hands on the back of her head and turned herself around, rotating slowly.
The names Schultz and Carradine were what she was listening for. If she could find either of them, then she would have a better chance to bring them to justice.
She didn't know quite what she would do if she caught up with them. Gwen figured that she would cross that bridge when she came to it and hope that she didn't get pulled underneath to the shark infested waters that would be beneath said bridge.
A pair of gloves added to her outfit. All she had to do was wait and watch. Not patiently mind you but she waited.
Gwen stood on the rooftop of her apartment building, the police scanner in place. She made sure the hood of her shirt pulled up and she slipped on a pair of tinted sunglasses that glinted.
"Michael Edwin has been seen in the area, suspect is armed and dangerous, if you see him proceed with cauction because he is extremely armed and extremely dangerous. He has been holed up in the warehouse on the corner of North Avenue. Do not go in there without backup, he may have a small arsenal to use."
Gwen frowned. She was pretty sure that someone like Edwin kept a pretty close ear to the police scanners, at least like she did. The blonde skidded across the rooftop.
She made the jump and showed a fair amount of agility. The blonde hit the roof top one at a time and became extremely acrobatic when she kept flipping.
She made a really tricky jump. The blonde nearly smacked hard into the side of the building but hung onto it. It was almost like some kind of sixth sense preventing from smacking into it hard.
Gwen let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh of relief and a whoop of joy. She would have pumped her fist into the air if she didn't need both hands to pull herself up.
'I can't believe I made that one!' she exclaimed intensely in her mind. She quickened her steps. Her mind went a million miles a moment. 'Actually the fact that I didn't become some kind of smear, that was the worst thing.'
Gwen propelled herself and hit the wall. She stuck to it and pulled her way up.
'Okay, I shouldn't try my luck,' Gwen thought, frowning. 'But you got to admit, that makes me feel so alive.'
The police in the area told Gwen one thing and that was she was getting close. She didn't know if her search would bear fruit tonight.
She saw a man in the window and there was a limo pulled out back. The police hadn't arrived yet. Gwen beat them to the punch. She tried not to look too smug about that.
'Okay, let's see what these powers can really do,' Gwen thought and she propelled himself off of the top of the building and all the way to the warehouse. 'Come on, you can make it….YES!'
The blonde pumped her hand up into the air, but she didn't want to toot her horn too much. She scoped out the crew. There were four guys on the ground. All of them walked outdoors for a few seconds and then passed back indoors like nothing happened.
Gwen launched herself fairly quickly through the air. She landed on a subway car that was outside. Gwen peered in through the window.
She spotted the contraband that was inside. There was some really big deal going down. It was hard to say what was in those boxes.
The sound of loud voices prompted Gwen to move off and away. She would have her moment.
Gwen thought that she was in the middle of a war zone here. The cops seemed to be preoccupied with one guy but this was deeper than one guy. She wasn't even sure if the one guy was here anymore.
There was something else that piqued Gwen's curiosity.
'Not an abandoned warehouse either, but it's active,' Gwen thought to herself and she frowned. 'That's an even more impressive cover really.'
"Schultz will be arriving at any moment now, police are investigating, but they won't find anything, not where they're looking," one of the goons muttered underneath his breath. He was a tattooed hoodlum.
Gwen thought the police might not have found anything but she was certainly onto something.
An individual who redefined the term scumbag leaned lazily outside of the bar. His spiked blonde hair would be his most prominent feature. He stood close to about the area of five foot nine. His attire contained a pair of dark green camo cargo pants, a bright yellow shirt, and a grey jacket. He had a bit of a dopey look on his face that indicated that he wasn't all too bright at all.
"Hey, you know, if you're looking to pick up a little extra, all you have to do is hop in the sack with me," the man whispered in a sleazy voice. He questioned a woman who looked like she was of loose morality. She turned towards him with a frown on her face. She had red hair, wearing a tight top and a leather skirt with fishnets and boots. "Just think about it."
The man decided to say something that he thought would seal the deal quite nicely.
"Just think about it, I mean, it's not like you have much going for you anyway."
This was a statement that got he slapped and hard. The man took a step back and held his cheek.
Bitch had some fire, he had to admit that. She stormed off and acted like she was offended.
"Yeah, like you have any right to be high and mighty dressed like that," he said, reaching into his coat and pulling out a clear bottle. He downed half of the contents of it with one swig, shaking his head. No sooner did he do this his cell phone blipped to life. "Yeah, I'm here."
"We're ready at the checkpoint, make sure you're ready to do your end when we call on you," a slightly garbled voice whispered over the other end of the phone.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," he whispered. He stood up straight. The cops were around and that made him a bit nervous.
There was a pair of eyes watching him from afar but he didn't know that. There was a shudder that went down his spine. Something made him increasingly paranoid the further that he went along.
'Son of a bitch, this is nuts, you can't do anything without someone breathing down your neck,' he thought to himself.
Gwen made sure not to be seen. If they started looking up, she would have to move quickly. There were some gargoyles conveniently placed. She crouched down on it, peering down.
She shifted her position underneath the gargoyle. This was a daring move but she felt bold. The teenager hung upside down and waited for him to come on by.
The scumbag down there, he would have to lead her to Schultz. Then she would be closer in resolving this. Hopefully Harry would understand what she had to do. The only reason she didn't tell him was because she knew he'd try and talk her out of doing this.
And he'd be right.
'Better to ask forgiveness, than it is to ask permission,' Gwen thought. She watched her step and made her way off lightly.
The thug looked like he was jumpy as hell when he kept walking. Gwen followed him at a discreet distance when he went behind. She had a feeling that he had a feeling that someone was watching him.
'If only he knew,' Gwen said, finding a brand new perch point. Her hearing enhanced after the spider bite which was a good thing.
The last thing she wanted was to get shot up. She made an inventory that there were two snipers who were perched. She clung to the rafters, mounting a support beam. Dare she drop down just a little bit?
She decided that she better not risk it.
"Come on, coast is clear, let's go."
Gwen thought that they were moving somewhere else. The warehouse wasn't the drop off point, it was the checkpoint. The snipers looked around and for one anxious second, Gwen thought that they saw her.
They didn't.
It was a game of lead around until they finally reached a construction site. Various vehicles allowed Gwen the perfect cover. She scurried up a crane where she would be able to hide out easily.
'Jackpot,' Gwen thought to herself. She kept still and stoic. 'Yeah, it's him; I'd never forget a face like that. Only a mother would love that one, well maybe if she was drunk.'
Herman Schultz stood there in an ugly yellow jacket in all of his glory, if you can even call it that. He stepped towards the thug.
"Are you sure you weren't followed?" he whispered to the thug. He tried to act all assertive and gruff but people weren't humoring him.
"Yeah, Herman, sure as fuck I weren't followed, thought I was, but no one's that good, you'd have to be some kind of freaking super acrobatic to follow me this far," the thug grumbled.
"For your sake, I hope that you're right," Herman said.
"So what the fuck is this all about anyway?"
Herman punched the man in the shoulder, hard and caused him to wince from the impact.
"If I warned you once, I warned you a thousand fucking times," Schultz said. "Don't mouth of to me. Especially when you aren't able to back it up."
Schultz pointed one finger over to the side. The thug's eyes followed the process slowly and greedily. His mouth hung open.
"Courtesy of our good friends in the Russian Mob and our good friend Dennis," Schultz whispered, popping the crate open. He pulled out one of the contents, a brand new AK-12.
Gwen knew that now as the time. She had to move. Now!
Schultz heard something over his head. Something flew off the crane and drop kicked him right in the face.
Gwen landed on the ground and kipped up to her feet. The thugs around Schultz looked dumbstruck. She took advantage of that by grabbing him around the arm and flipping him to the ground.
"GET HER!"
Gwen dodged the attack of the thug and kneed him in the face from behind. One of the thugs bent down to pick up the dropped weapon. Gwen was in there as quick as a cat and she curb stomped the back of the goon's head into the half-finished pavement.
Gwen used her abilities and some martial arts training she picked up to dazzle the thugs. She set up one of the goon's, wrapping her legs around his head and did a back flip. She spiked him onto the ground with a piledriver like move.
A buzzing blared in Gwen's ear and she dodged his attack. She grabbed him like she was going to give him the Diamond Cutter but she did a back flip and spiked him into the ground with a maneuver that was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Of course, a good old fashioned punch to the face would sufficient given the situation.
One of the thugs tried to sneak up on her. A good old fashioned Pele Kick drilled her enemy in the face.
The goons all had been battered in no time. The element of surprise combined with training and some creative maneuvering allowed her to get the victory. Gwen thought that she felt extremely good about herself. Her senses went off just as she heard the click of the gun.
She dodged the bullet and it sailed past her hand. It impacted into the door of an outside toilet. There was the sound that resembled a sledgehammer smashing a water melon behind her.
The gun man was down on the ground the second she turned around. The blood pouring from the back of his head indicated that someone did a far nastier number on him than she did.
Gwen spun around and went to attack another person that was behind her. She was surprised that he blocked her attack.
He blocked her attacks two more times before he grabbed her wrists. "So, you did pretty well for yourself up until the end. Then you kind of let your guard down. Relax Gwen, it's only me!"
Gwen struggled for a brief second and felt a strong pair of hands hold her into place. She relaxed ever so slightly when he held her and she recognized the voice.
Many questions entered her mind but she was confident that would have them soon.