The Void

Chapter 36 - I Was Behind It

(Peter's POV):
I got dressed in my black suit, the same one I had worn to my Uncle Ben's funeral. I was thankful that I hadn't grown too much since then so that it still fit reasonably well. Although I had not been too close to Norman Osborn, he was Harry's father and I needed to be there for Harry.

Harry hadn't shown up to school the first day after Mr. Osborn's death and we hadn't had school since, due to the attack, so I hadn't actually talked to him since his party. Ned and I had tried to go over his house the other day to see how he was holding up, but his butler refused to let us inside, informing us that Harry didn't want any visitors, even his friends.

It scared me that he was secluding himself, but I was hopeful that after the funeral he would open up more to us. I knew that at least I could relate to him, having gone through the same thing with my uncle as well as my parents, and I was hoping to be there for him now.

Before heading out, I sent a text to (Y/N), Hey just wondering if you were going to Mr. Osborn's funeral, I know that Harry would appreciate you being there.

It took a few minutes for her to respond, Unfortunately I have something else going on, but please pass on my condolences.

My face fell reading her text, knowing that it wasn't just Harry who needed her today. I blamed myself for Mr. Osborn's death. He died fighting me. Yes, he was killed by his own glider, but I couldn't help but feel responsible. I could have tried harder to save him and now Harry had lost his father.

May drove us to the funeral, offering to be there for me since (Y/N) wasn't and I found it hard to stay through the ceremony. I knew that they were probably exaggerating Mr. Osborn's greatness in his death, but the guilt hurt more with each word that was spoken about him.

Harry was the last one around his father's casket as everyone dispersed and I took that time to approach him. I placed my hand on his shoulder, "hey, Harry, how're you holding up?"

"My father was murdered, how do you think I am," he growled in response, his tear-filled eyes not leaving his father's casket.

"I'm really sorry about what happened and if there is anything that I can do for you, even if you just need someone to talk to-"

"Yeah, there's something you can do for me. Find Spider-Man and kill him."

"I-I'm sorry?" I stuttered, not understanding why he had suddenly turned antagonistic towards my alter ego.

"Spider-Man killed my father. He even had the nerve to bring my father's body back to our house and I caught him in the act. He will pay for this, I will make sure of that."

(Your POV):
I tossed my phone aside after telling Peter that I wasn't going to the funeral. Part of me felt guilty about not attending, but I was in no condition to go. The beating that my parents had given me had left injuries that still required more than makeup to conceal. Not to mention the fact that I was the one who murdered Norman Osborn, I couldn't then show up at the funeral.

I knew that it was something I had to do in order to save my own life, that it was either him or me, but I still felt guilty. He was more than just the Green Goblin, he was a father and a boss. At the funeral, everyone who cared about him would be gathered and I really did not want to have to watch them all mourn over a man that I had killed. Even though I knew that there was no saving Norman Osborn, whatever chemicals he had injected had made him lose sight of who he was, I still blamed myself for his death and knew that I would lose control of my emotions if I were to attend the funeral.

Besides, my parents knew about the funeral and would realize if I went out that that's where I would be. That would be a sure sign that I was going soft, that I was letting emotions past the wall they had taught me to build to keep them out. I couldn't risk them realizing that Osborn's death was something that I regretted, the last thing I needed was to get another beating when I had barely recovered from the last one.

So instead of getting dressed to go out, I switched on the TV and got some homework done. They had cancelled school as a result of the attack, but teachers still chose to send out emails with assignments so that we wouldn't fall behind schedule.

Turning on the news turned out to be a mistake as they began to broadcast Osborn's funeral, gushing about how great of a man he had been and how cruel it was that he had been taken from us far too soon. Anger flared about inside of me and I glared at the reporters glorifying him on the TV. Deep down, I knew that I was really just angry at myself for not being able to bring Osborn in alive, but it was easier to project those feelings onto people that I did not know.

Suddenly the lights in the apartment began to flicker and the TV switched off, leaving the room in almost silence. The only other sound was the cracking of electricity. Fear spread through my body due to these strange events and I looked in the direction that I heard the electricity coming from, finding little sparks surrounding my hand.

I suddenly yanked my hand back, wondering why I wasn't feeling the sting of the electricity. But as I examined my hand closer, I realized that electricity was emerging from my hand. The electricity traveled through my veins, lighting them up with a vibrant blue, and then out through my hands. The problems with the lights and TV weren't accidents, I was behind it.

-

(A/N): I should probably stop giving you powers, but I liked the idea of you getting something seemingly by accident that you weren't prepared for and may not know how to control. Besides, it helps out in a later scene! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter although it was mostly filler!