Harry turned to Gwen, looking as though he wanted to say something—perhaps about Peter, perhaps about his own father. But before he could speak, a new figure appeared at the end of the corridor.
"Dad…?" Harry murmured, surprised.
Norman Osborn, dressed in his impeccable dark suit and wearing that calculating gaze of his, walked forward with steady steps, as if he already knew exactly what he would find there.
George narrowed his eyes. Although this was an Oscorp hospital, Norman rarely appeared in person at medical facilities.
Norman also noticed Harry. A flicker of discomfort crossed his face, quickly replaced by neutrality.
"Captain Stacy," he said with a formal nod.
"I'm here to see Peter Parker."
George raised an eyebrow, curious.
"And why exactly?"
"I met the young man on one occasion.
He is a remarkable youth. Intelligent. Brilliant, even."
Norman replied without hesitation.
"I merely wish to check on how he's doing… as a friend of the family."
The excuse was convenient—and technically plausible. George had no official reason to stop him.
Norman briefly turned to Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder with practiced coldness.
"I know you're going through a difficult time," he said. "But there's no reason to keep avoiding your home. Come with me afterward."
Without waiting for a response, Norman turned his back on his son and entered the room, escorted by two discreet security guards. Harry didn't say a word, simply standing there with his jaw clenched tight.
Gwen exchanged a glance with George.
"Have you ever seen him like this before?" she asked.
"No…" George replied suspiciously. "Not in hospitals. Norman usually sends others to handle these things for him."
Inside the room, Peter's eyes widened when he saw who was entering.
"Mr. Osborn…? What are you doing here?"
Norman smiled—one of those smiles that never reach the eyes.
"I'm Harry's father. And my son's friends are important to me as well."
He stepped closer to the bed, his voice gentle… but with something clearly hidden beneath it.
"Peter, I'd like you to tell me more about that substance you injected. How did you feel? Were there cognitive changes? Physical ones? Dreams? Visions?"
Peter hesitated, confused—but he answered. Still weak and vulnerable, he described his sensations: the heat rushing through his veins, the initial mental clarity, the surge of strength, and then the loss of control and the madness that followed.
Norman listened attentively to Peter's account.
Half an hour passed as they talked.
Outside, George checked his watch, an uneasy feeling settling over him.
"Harry… have your father and Peter known each other for a long time?"
Harry shook his head. "As far as I know, they've only met once."
That answer only heightened George's concern. The conversation was lasting far longer than expected. He took a step forward and was about to open the door—
—but at that moment, it opened on its own.
Norman stepped out calmly, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket. His face was impassive, but the glint in his eyes was different.
He noticed George's suspicious stare and simply said with a polite smile, "We were just talking."
"I'm sure," George replied, crossing his arms.
But deep down, something screamed at him: Norman hadn't come here merely as a friend's father. He had come as a scientist.
And Peter was now more than just a patient.
He was a test subject.
Norman adjusted the sleeves of his shirt beneath the blazer as he turned to George and the young people.
"We were discussing biochemistry," he said serenely.
"You know how it is—the field of science is always advancing, and Peter has a remarkable intellect."
George held his gaze, trying to decipher the subtext behind that casual tone.
"We had a lot to talk about, after all," Norman concluded, already walking away.
"Let's go, Harry," he said without turning back.
Harry briefly looked at Gwen before reluctantly following his father.
As soon as the two disappeared down the corridor, George cast one last look and opened the infirmary door, stepping inside once more.
Peter was still awake, his eyes lowered but alert.
"Peter," George said bluntly. "What exactly did you and Norman talk about?"
Peter hesitated for a second. "He asked how I felt after the… transformation. Said it was scientific curiosity. After all, he's a biochemist too."
George narrowed his eyes but didn't press further. Inside, the alarm bells were ringing loudly.
Peter stared at the ceiling for a moment, then turned his face toward George, his expression tired but clear.
"Uncle George… what's going to happen to me now?"
George took a deep breath. "I don't know, Peter. My only orders were to bring you here and ensure your safety. What comes next… is beyond my authority." He paused.
"We'll only know once you've fully recovered," he added.
Peter nodded slowly, then looked toward the door. Gwen was still there, watching in silence. Their eyes met.
"Gwen… I'm sorry. For everything."
She stepped forward, and a gentle smile appeared on her face.
"You don't have to apologize to me, you idiot… welcome back."
---xXx---
Meanwhile…
"Tony! For God's sake… what are you doing?"
Pepper appeared in the doorway of the improvised workshop, eyes wide. She had slept there with him, but when she woke up and didn't find him beside her, she followed the trail—and found pure chaos.
Disassembled machines, circuit boards scattered across the floor, and a gaping hole in the wall. It looked like a missile had gone through the place—or perhaps a bored genius with access to far too much technology.
Tony, his face smudged with grease and a screwdriver in hand, didn't even look back.
"Relax, I just… reconfigured everything for a new experiment," he said, winking.
"I've already called a crew to fix this, by the way."
And, as if on cue, JARVIS's voice echoed through the speakers:
[Sir, the repair team has arrived.]
"See?" Tony grinned. "Punctuality. Come on—JARVIS will guide them. Now… you and I are going out for a bit."
Pepper crossed her arms.
"Tony, I have a thousand emails, three meetings, and a pending merger with a Japanese company."
Tony gently took her hand and kissed the back of it like a smug gentleman.
"I'm giving you the day off. I'm the boss, remember? Full authority."
"This isn't a monarchy, Tony."
"Of course not…" he said with a mischievous smile.
"But if it were, I'd still make you queen."
Pepper had no choice but to give in. Minutes later, now dressed more appropriately, she got into the car with Tony.
"So where are we going now?" she asked curiously.
Tony started the car and replied with casual amusement, "I'm going to the house of the proudest idiot genius I know."
"You don't even need to tell me who that is," Pepper laughed, immediately realizing who he meant.
"But… proud? I've never seen him act proud," she said, confused.
"My dear, he likes to act like a normal person, but when he gets drunk, he turns into someone else," Tony mocked.
"Someone else?" Pepper asked, even more confused.
"Yeah, like one of those ancient kings—acting as if everything and everyone exists to serve him," Tony laughed.
"I'd pay to see that," Pepper laughed as well.
"I highly doubt it'll happen again. After that drinking binge, a few… inconvenient things happened, and he swore he'd never get drunk again," Tony replied, laughing once more.
"Besides, I've never seen anyone handle fourteen bottles of Spirytus," he added, the corners of his eyes twitching slightly.
"Arthur is a monster when it comes to drinking," he concluded.
[A/N: Spirytus Rektyfikowany contains 96% alcohol.]
"But I might be able to convince him to tell us some of the crazy stuff we did that day," Tony chuckled.
"Wow, I think my day off is going to be worth it," Pepper laughed.
Tony glanced at her sideways, mischievous.
"I thought I was the reason."
"It's the same thing," she replied with a playful smile.
The car sped down the road, heading toward Arthur's estate.
---
At Stark Industries…
Happy was looking at his phone with a calm smile on his face.
"Have fun, Natalie can handle everything here," he texted Tony after learning that he and Pepper were heading out.
Before he could even put the phone away, the door opened. Natalie walked in with confident steps, a folder tucked under her arm. She was dressed with professional elegance—dark pencil skirt, pristine white blouse—the efficient legal assistant everyone believed her to be.
"Mr. Hogan," she said with a courteous nod.
"Is Miss Potts not in?"
Happy smiled.
"She went out with Tony today. Couple stuff, you know how it is. That leaves just me holding the fort."
"I see," she replied, glancing around at the empty space.
"Well then, I'll return to work."
Happy raised a hand in a friendly gesture.
"Wait, no need to rush. Everything's quiet today. How about a movie? You deserve a break too."
Natalie maintained her professional smile but shook her head.
"Thank you, but I have reports and contracts to review. Miss Potts left a stack of paperwork on my desk."
"Fair enough," Happy said, raising his hands in surrender.
"But if you want some real coffee—the good stuff from the machine—you know where to find me."
"Noted, Hogan."
She turned and went to her private office. But as soon as she closed the door behind her, the smile vanished.
Silently, she activated a small communicator hidden inside the brooch on her sleeve. A blue light blinked once.
She typed a quick message on the holographically projected keyboard:
[Tony Stark and Potts have left Stark Industries.]
She signed it as "R-17," the codename known only to S.H.I.E.L.D.
The Helicarrier symbol briefly appeared on the display before fading out.
Natalie sat back down as if nothing had happened, picking up a contract from her desk.
(End of Chapter)