Disclaimer: Norman Osborn, the Green Goblin, Spider-Man, et al. are property of Marvel Entertainment. I don't own them....if I did, I'd be filthy rich. I just own Rachel Martinez and any other made up characters. Some of the dialogue was used from the movie novelization by Peter David. I wish there were a movie script out...but I was reduced to using this god-awful book instead.... Do yourself a favor and just wait for the DVD on Nov 1st. ~_~

Acknowledgements: (Yeah, I HAVE to put this in first.... it wouldn't be fair not to.) Many, many thanks to my reviewers (on and off fanfiction.net... esp. Cathryn and Animagoread....you guys rock! ^_^). And I also want to thank my beta reader, Liz...my "partner-in-crime", for the great moral support. If it weren't for her, I probably wouldn't have mustered up the courage to post this. Thanks, girl! ^_~

Okay...enough sappy stuff...on to the story.

The Man Behind The Mask

by Jen Richardson (padme_76@yahoo.com)

Chapter 5

It had been several weeks since the bombing. Things were quieter at OsCorp now. The news crews, the reporters and the photographers had stopped coming, to the relief of one Norman Osborn. OsCorp Industries was getting plenty of publicity, albeit the negative press.

The only person that was still poking around....was Detective Martinez. She was beginning to make a pest of herself, constantly interviewing everyone from the lab technicians to the board members.

And Norman was starting to think that he was was a suspect. He didn't know where all this guilt was coming from all of a sudden. He shivered every time he saw her waltz into his office with that innocent-looking smile on her face.

Thankfully on this day, no one was in the office...only his secretary and a handful of other people were there.

Norman was the quintessential workaholic. It was a Saturday, and yet he was working. He wanted to catch up on some things he had neglected during the week.

But his mood was suddenly turning sour as he relentlessly searched for an important financial report. He needed it by the afternoon, and Norman was getting more than irritated at his failing memory. Ever since Stromm's death, he had a harder time remembering things....

"Irene! Where are those reports I asked for....two hours ago?!"

Norman's new secretary was getting used to her employer's irritable mood swings by now. She peered around the corner and blinked. "Uh...they're on your desk, sir. I put them there, under the red cover," she said meekly.

He scowled at her, shoving some folders aside and flipping through various documents. "I looked there...I'm not blind... " he muttered.

He heard Irene utter under her breath, "I know you aren't, sir....." She walked over and turned a white file cover over...revealing the red folder and his missing report. It was buried underneath other papers and he had failed to see it. Irene handed it to him with a sarcastic grin on her face.

Norman looked up at his secretary and frowned. "Oh, wipe that smug grin off your face," he grumbled, taking the report from her. "You've proved that I'm getting senile...satisfied?" He added with a smirk. "...sorry about that."

Irene nodded. "It's okay. Really."

"No....I...." He sighed wearily. "I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you." But I want to take it out on someone, all right.... He was starting to wonder where all these violent tendencies were coming from. Lately, he was edgy...snapping at people, and blowing up over the littlest things.

Irene's grin widened....at least she empathized with Osborn. "That's my job. Besides, you've had a rough day with the press and everything."

Norman snorted derisively. "It's only eleven-thirty. My day's going to go from bad to worse..."

"Uh...Lieutenant Martinez is waiting for you," she nodded towards the waiting room.

Norman didn't respond...but he cursed inwardly. That woman wouldn't leave him alone.... if she suspected something, he wished she'd just come out and say so.

"Lieutenant Martinez....from the police," Irene repeated.

Norman glanced at his secretary and bit his lip. "Yes...I heard you, Irene. Thanks. Has she been waiting long?"

"No. She just arrived, sir."

"Alright. Uh...just send her in." The heavy weight of impending doom seemed to fall onto Norman's shoulders as he stared out into the hallway, waiting for his so-called 'shadow' to appear. Five minutes were more like five years..... and his mind drifted back to that night.

He was starting to think the experiment was a horrible mistake. He'd been thinking it was a mistake since a few days after Stromm died. What if the serum WAS making him lose his mind? It took every ounce of strength in him to keep a tight reign on his ever-increasing aggressive side. Norman hadn't a clue where all this pent up anger and malice was coming from but he desperately hoped that his son would never know about his father's new ....persona, if you would call it that.

A knock was heard on Norman's door, suddenly bringing Osborn out of his daydream. He looked up to see Rachel Martinez, appropriately dressed in a black trenchcoat and black suit, standing in the doorway.

She looked more like a feminine version of the Grim Reaper... "Hi, Mr. Osborn. Do you have a minute to spare?"

Norman's mouth hung open slightly as he tried to grasp for words. Why the hell does this woman make me SO damn nervous? He rose out of his chair and walked over to her. "Uh...certainly. Anything for the police." He started to make his way into the waiting room. "Can I offer you anything, lieutenant?"

Martinez slowly made her way around the room, admiring the various plaques and awards that Norman had garnered over the years. She turned to briefly regard Osborn and smiled. "Oh, nothing for me. Thank you, anyway."

Osborn nodded and poured his seventh cup of coffee of the day. He came back into the office and closed the door behind him before facing the detective.

When her eyes met his puzzled gaze, her mouth curled into a restrained grin. "I'm sorry, Mr. Osborn..."

He frowned at her with his mug still in his hand. "What is it?"

Martinez tried not to crack a smile, but it showed through. "You weren't expecting me. And it's not everyday that I see the great Norman Osborn struck speechless...."

"Maybe because it's your fault," he said flatly, setting his mug down on the desk.

Martinez blinked. "Mine?"

Norman offered her a seat before sitting on the edge of his desk. "You're right. I wasn't expecting you today. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I thought you said you wouldn't have to bother me again."

She laughed softly as she took off her coat and sat down with it folded on her lap. "Well....I'm still investigating Stromm's murder.... and now with the recent bombing at Quest's testing facility, I'm a bit overwhelmed with my workload. I wasn't expecting to come here, actually. But my captain insisted."

Norman gave a good-natured laugh and gestured to the pile of papers on his desk. "I know what you mean by having a heavy workload." He started sorting out reports and stuffing them into manila folders as he turned his gaze back to Martinez. "So, what can I do for you, lieutenant?"

"I was just wondering if you could answer a few more questions. And I wanted to talk to you about the bombing."

"I'll try to help out in any way possible."

Martinez grinned as she opened her trusty notebook and retrieved a pen from her coat pocket. "Oh that would be great. Um...I forgot to ask you this the day we met, but do you know if Dr. Stromm had any enemies?"

"No, can't say I know of any," Norman scratched his head. "Like I said before...Mendel was pretty much liked around here. Do you have any suspects so far?" He watched her write some notes down and felt something the pit of his stomach. He didn't have to ask, but he had the feeling that he knew the answer already.

Martinez looked up from her notes and gave a slight grin. "Yes, actually I do...." She simply stared at him, not giving anything away and yet, telling him everything he needed to know.

Norman was silent for a moment. Then he suddenly smirked at her. "I'm at the top of your list...aren't I?"

She gave an embarrassed smile. "Sorry to say so, but yes. I have to be suspicious of everyone......including you, Mr. Osborn."

Norman tried not to roll his eyes and laugh. Figures.

"...but I'm considering every possible lead. I don't mean to be disrespectful--" she explained.

He shook his head and laughed. "No, no...not at all. Actually, I'm flattered. It's not everyday that someone suspects me of murdering someone...."

The detective smiled lightly. "I wish everyone would be as cooperative and understanding as you are, sir. It seems every time I show up, people get nervous...." She shrugged. "Of course, in my profession... someone is always, well... dead."

Norman gave a wry grin. "I suppose that goes with the territory. Uh...is there anything else?"

Martinez sighed and shut her hardcover notebook with a resounding clap, making Norman jump slightly. "What do you think about the bombing at Quest, anyway? It was horrible, wasn't it?"

Osborn frowned inwardly and wondered if Martinez was trying to trick him. He answered cautiously. "I ...was in shock for a week after it happened. We may have had some bad blood over the past several months, but still...." he trailed off. "They didn't deserve what happened."

But something deep in Norman's subconscious told him otherwise.....

Martinez nodded in sympathy as she rose out of her chair and grabbed her trenchcoat. "I can understand your feelings, Mr. Osborn. I'd love to tell you what we know so far, but we're just as much in the dark as you are." She shook Norman's hand and smiled. "Well, I guess that's it. It was nice to see you again, sir. I hope everything works out for you and for OsCorp Industries."

Norman grinned slightly. "Thank you, lieutenant. I hope so, too." He led her out of his office and watched as she boarded the elevator, breathing a great sigh of relief as the doors slid shut.

Thank GOD that's over....

"Feeling better?"

Norman jumped slightly at the sound of Irene's voice. "Huh? Oh, yeah....." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Don't let her bother you, Mr. Osborn. Most detectives are pests, from what I gather," Irene smirked.

Norman chuckled. "I think you're right."

Now if I could just get rid of her.....

Norman blinked suddenly, and glanced out of the corner of his eye at Irene. She didn't notice Osborn's sudden panic attack. What the hell--? Ugh... maybe it's the caffeine finally getting to me.

Heh heh heh....wrong again!

Irene sat at her computer and idly glanced at Osborn's appointment calendar. "Umm....Mr. Osborn? Are you supposed to be somewhere today? I have the rest of the afternoon blocked off--"

Damn. Harry's graduation. How on Earth could I have forgotten? He looked at his watch and grimaced. "It's two already. I'm going to miss the commencement ceremonies!" He rushed to get his overcoat and laptop. "I'll just ...uh, go over those records in the car on the way. Could you file those memos for me while I'm gone?"

She smiled. "Sure thing. Tell Harry I said congrats."

Norman nodded in acknowledgement as he left the office in a hurry. If I miss this.... Harry will never forgive me....

-------------

Norman struggled to keep his eyes open during the commencment speeches. He didn't get much sleep last night and he was still frazzled by Martinez's unexpected visit this morning.

Then again...Harry's probably asleep in his chair, Norman smirked. Lucky him...I have to look like I'm actually interested...ugh....

Twenty minutes later, Norman felt the urge to sneak away to the parking lot and use his laptop in the car. He didn't have anything important to send by email or anything work related. He just wanted to get out of there.

All of a sudden, he felt SO restless....as if something inside of him wanted to get out.

Blah...blah...blah. God, this is the same garbage I heard at MY graduation, Osborn snorted derisively. He admitted that this was the most important day in his son's life.

But why did it have to be SO boring? He felt a sudden urge to shoot the speaker....

He idly looked around at the graduates, several he recognized...many he didn't know. He caught sight of Harry in the middle row, and his eyelids were starting to droop. Norman stifled a laugh. Right again, as usual... if he yawns any wider, a bird will fly into his mouth. Suddenly, Norman frowned as he stared at Peter. He noticed something about the boy. It was trivial, but nonetheless... it was different. Hmm....where did Peter's glasses go? Ah, I guess he got contacts.....

His thoughts drifted back to Peter....again. During the past several months leading up to this day, Norman almost considered Peter to be a second son. He had been very busy ever since the Quest incident, and he hadn't seen Parker for a few weeks now. Norman missed the long conversations he had with Peter about his work at OsCorp, and about Peter's science projects.

The day Harry wants to talk to me about work is the day hell freezes over.... he thought idly.

The graduating class of 2002 stood and let out a tremendous cheer as they all threw their caps in the air (which they probably weren't supposed to do anyway..but who cared at that point...). The noise made Norman sit up suddenly and clap. Finally...

Everyone made their way around the grounds, congratulating and hugging graduates. Norman felt a bit unsettled as he looked around for his son, since he wasn't really accustomed to social gatherings. True, he had been invited numerous times to political functions, charity balls and parties...but inside he was still a scientist. The businessman/socialite in him wasn't very experienced with people in general. Usually he spent most his time underground in the labs, or alone in the office late at night.

Perhaps that was why most people considered him to be rather snobbish. He looked too stiff and serious all the time. Norman's thoughts were interrupted when he accidentally bumped into someone behind him.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I should have looked where I was going..." Norman apologized. "Excuse me, ma'am." He recognized the elderly woman from somewhere....

She smiled. "It's quite all right, Mr. Osborn. By the way, I'm May Parker, Peter's aunt."

He slowly grinned at May. "So you're the aunt Peter's been bragging about," he laughed and extended his hand. "We haven't met before have we?"

May shook his hand, and laughed. "No, but I recognized you when you came in. I figured you might be Harry's father..he's the spitting image of you."

"Heh...everyone says that," he smirked. "Personally, I think he looks more like his mother..." His expression turned more somber as he regarded May. "I....I just want to personally express my condolences. Harry told me everything."

May gave a sad smile and nodded in acknowledgement. "Thank you. That's kind of you."

Norman sighed. "I lost my parents as a child.... so I can understand how Peter must feel right now. If there's anything I can do--"

She patted him on the arm. "Oh, that's sweet of you. We'll be alright...." May started looking around, sighing in frustration. "Now where are those two--"

"They're probably congratulating their fellow classmates," Norman reasoned. "Or, they're talking with their friends..."

May frowned in thought. "It's rather sad. Peter doesn't have many friends. He was constantly picked on by that Flash Thompson," she shook her head in distaste. "At least now he won't be around to bully poor Peter."

"Why?" Norman asked innocently.

She sighed again. "Oh...well, because he was so smart and studious. I don't understand why that's a reason for anyone to bully another person, but...kids these days..." she trailed off. "I really shouldn't say this, but..."

"But what?"

"Flash started a fight with Peter a few weeks ago. The strangest thing... Peter actually pounded Flash into the ground, if I recall...."

Funny, Harry never mentioned that.... Norman wondered. He remembered what Harry had told him of Flash, and was surprised that Peter was able to defend himself so well. Heh... I suppose Peter got a lucky punch in somehow...

Suddenly, May pointed. "Oh look! There's Harry and Peter! Over here, boys!" she waved them over.

Harry and Peter walked over, looking embarrassed at all the attention they were getting.

May hugged them both, and smiled at Peter. "Oh, you two look so handsome.... I'm so proud of you, Peter," she beamed. Peter smiled back.

Norman regarded his son -- the graduate -- with a satisfied grin. "You made it." Thank god...

Harry returned the grin. "You too, dad. I thought for a moment you wouldn't come." He held his diploma up and smirked. "And you thought I wouldn't get this, didn't you?"

Norman smiled at his son's little comeback. He held his hand out in approval. "It's not the first time I've been proven wrong. Congratulations, Harry." I could have said that better...

Harry smiled and shook his father's hand. "Thank you, sir."

Norman's attention suddenly turned to the young man standing next to Harry. "Hey! Peter, you got the science award! That's great!"

"Yeah," Peter grinned shyly. "Thanks, Mr. Osborn."

Norman put a comforting arm around Peter and sighed. "I know this has been a difficult time for you, but I want you to try and enjoy this day," he sounded genuinely concerned. He gave a slight grin and tried to cheer up the young man. "Commencment: the end of something...the start of something new."

Peter nodded, his eyes downcast. "Okay.. I'll try." He sighed softly and looked up at Norman. "It's been really hard without him around, you know? And.... he's not here. I really wish he were here to see this."

"I know. But he'd want you to be happy, right? I don't want to sound cliché, but...in a way, I think he'll be with you for as long as you live." Norman frowned inwardly at what just came out of his mouth. Ugh... I sound like a Hallmark commerical or something.... I was never very good at this sort of thing.... he thought bitterly.

But apparently, Norman's words were effective. Peter nodded slowly and smiled lightly. "You're right. Uh...thanks...for everything. Oh, and Harry told me about the apartment. I....well, I was stunned."

Norman laughed. "I'm glad you were surprised. You haven't seen it yet, have you?"

"No."

"Well, whenever you feel up to it, you're welcome to move in. It's nice.....there's enough room for both of you. In fact, I could arrange for you to see it tomorrow, if you'd like."

Peter nodded. "That'd be great. Uh... I'll have to tell Aunt May. She'll want to see it, too."

"I understand." Norman turned his gaze towards Harry, who was talking to a redheaded girl....probably one of his classmates. "You're like a brother to him, you know..."

Peter grinned slighty, following Norman's gaze. "Yeah, I know...."

"That makes you family," Norman smiled warmly, putting a hand on Peter's shoulder. "And if you ever need anything....anything at all, call me. All right?" Peter nodded and Norman smirked at the young man suddenly. "Because if you don't, I'll be very upset," he joked.

Peter laughed. "Yes, sir."

They slowly began walking towards Osborn's car, and Norman suddenly spoke up. "So, what are your plans for the future? College, I hope."

"Yeah, I'm attending the university in a few weeks. I wanted to get a head start and take some summer courses if I could. Maybe chemistry or physics."

Norman was becoming more and more impressed with Peter every day. "That's good to hear. I wish you could talk Harry into applying himself a little more. He's doing very well, but.... I still worry about him."

Peter nodded in understanding. "Don't worry, Mr. Osborn. He'll be fine."

Osborn felt satisfied with that answer. Somehow, he knew he could always depend on Peter. He turned to briefly glance at the street traffic nearby, when Norman noticed a familiar sight waiting by the Bentley. He grimaced at the young woman standing next to his car.

Martinez.... I should have known.

"What's wrong, Mr. Osborn?" Peter frowned at him.

Norman gave a wry grin and nodded towards Martinez. "My shadow. Don't worry, it's nothing. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

Peter stared at Martinez with puzzlement, and then at Osborn...but said nothing.

"Oh, and could you tell Harry when he's through that I want to see him?" Norman asked.

Peter nodded, saying nothing. He walked over to the crowd of graduates looking for his aunt, while Norman approached the Bentley. Apparently, Martinez was so engaged with Osborn's car, that she didn't hear his footsteps. She never turned around.

"Hello, lieutenant," he said amiably enough.

She gasped in shock as she whirled around. "Oh! Hi." She laughed. "You startled me there....I was admiring your Bentley, if you don't mind."

Strangely enough, he enjoyed watching her squirm. It was a new side to Norman that he wasn't accustomed to. "You've been following me." It was more of a statement than a question.

Martinez pulled at her silk scarf and gave a sheepish grin. "Heh...well, yes. I'm sorry...."

Norman smirked back at her. "No you aren't. If you were, you'd stop pestering me."

Martinez sighed in resignation. "You're right. I AM sorry to keep bugging you, but it's my job," she shrugged.

Norman exhaled slowly and crossed his arms. "All right. What is it now?"

She flipped through her notebook while speaking. "I talked with your assistant, Miss Simkins. She happened to mention that you and Dr Stromm had....shall we say....disagreements with your latest project." Martinez cast a brief glance at Norman.

He frowned at her. "We were friends...and friends argue. Besides, the project was scrapped days after Stromm died, so why does it matter?"

"Well, I only mention it because it's a motive to murder...." She looked up at Osborn questioningly.

Norman narrowed his hard blue eyes at the detective. "Are you insinuating that I had something to do with Mendel Stromm's death? If you are, then I wish you'd be more clear about it."

"I couldn't get all the details of this project--"

"That's because it's top secret," Norman interrupted.

"Yes, I know.... but according to witnesses, you were very upset with Stromm's recommendation that you scrap the project all together. And from what I know, this project would have given OsCorp a significant lead in the weapons manufacturing industry, not to mention dozens of new contracts with potential buyers."

Norman scowled in irritation. "I don't think I like where you're going with this.... You're saying I killed Stromm to keep the contract with Slocum? That's ridiculous!"

She shook her head. "I'm not saying you killed anyone, Mr. Osborn."

One side of Norman sighed in relief...while the "other" half of Osborn wanted to wrap his hands around her slim neck and squeeze.... "Well...you certainly implied it! I hope you have something else to discuss, other than accuse me of murder..."

"Actually, there's something else I wanted to speak to you about."

Norman suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and he desperately tried not to panic in front of her. His voice came out as a whisper. "Oh?"

"I checked your alibi... "

Oh no.... Osborn stared hard at the detective, and swallowed. "You spoke with my son?"

She nodded and smiled slightly. "Harry's a bright young man. He was very accommodating...uh, let's see..." Martinez turned a page in her notebook and nodded. "Yes. Here we are...Harry said he was home around 7:50 pm ...and you were in the study all night...." She laughed. "In fact, he mentioned that you never left the room. He said it was your second home, so to speak."

Norman smiled...in relief. "Just as I told you before...and I think Harry's right. I spend my waking hours in that study," he laughed.

Martinez scratched her neck and frowned in confusion as she looked over her notes. "But it's just so... weird. You were the last person to see Stromm alive."

He gave Martinez a blank stare as he took in that bit of information.... "Yes...I suppose so," he said slowly.

She's getting too close for comfort, isn't she.....Norman? The voice came back to haunt Osborn again. It let out a deranged laugh. Norman suddenly shivered, despite the fact that it was eighty-seven degrees in the shade. He wished Martinez would hurry up with her questions so he could jump into the air-conditioned car.

"I mean, all the evidence points to ...you."

But I don't even remember that night!! I can barely recall how I got home!

Hypocrite....you are SUCH a liar....

What? Damn... I thought it had went away for once....

The demonic voice just chuckled evilly.

"There is another possibility," Martinez interrupted Osborn's thoughts. "Maybe someone's trying to frame you for Stromm's murder."

He blinked, looking at Martinez. "You really think someone would go to these great lengths to frame me?"

"You're a very influential and powerful businessman, Mr. Osborn. There are people out there who would love to see someone of your stature fall off his pedestal."

That's true... Norman frowned at Martinez and huffed in annoyance. "Well... they'll just have to wait until I'm dead and buried." He wanted to say something else, but thought it best to leave it at that. Norman opened the door to his car and turned to briefly regard Martinez. "So what is your take on the bombing, if I may ask? Did you find out anything new?"

Martinez shrugged. "We have no witnesses to confirm or deny anything. My department head thinks it was an accident..."

"But you believe otherwise..don't you?" He said while slowly climbing into the car. If this wasn't a hint to get lost.... he frowned inwardly.

Martinez just smiled back. "You catch on fast. Like I said before....I have a suspicious nature." She glanced at her watch and gasped. "Oh, I've got to go... uh, again, I'm sorry to have bothered you, Mr. Osborn."

Norman just nodded and quickly jumped into the car. He lowered the glass between him and the driver. "Turn up the AC, would you please?" He loosened his tie and sank back into the seat. God, I'm dying.... he groaned. He didn't have to wait for long. Soon, Harry joined him by the car. He tapped on the window, making Norman jump a bit. Osborn opened the door for his son. "Get in...."

Harry looked at his father in puzzlement, but said nothing as he climbed in the back seat and shut the door. He knew better than to question his father. He watched Norman shut the window, so the driver wouldn't eavesdrop on their conversation.

Norman frowned. "We need to talk," he said quietly, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

"What's wrong?"

"Why did you lie to that detective? You never saw me that night. You said so yourself," Norman interjected.

Harry turned away from his father's hard stare. "I thought I was helping. I... I didn't want you to get into trouble...." he mumbled.

"Well... I'd appreciate it if you had told me first," Osborn muttered. "I hope that detective doesn't find holes in your story. It'll only make me look more guilty!"

Harry gaped at his father. "But...they don't honestly think you're involved with Dr. Stromm's murder....do they?"

Norman sighed and gazed at his son. He never realized how concerned Harry was about his father's image, until now. It made him feel strangely elated. He smiled lightly at Harry. "They have absolutely no evidence whatsoever. That detective just wants someone to bully, that's all. They figure since I'm the CEO, I'd know all the intricate little details of the man's life. Or something to that effect..."

"But," Harry hesitated, "...you still don't remember what happened that night, do you?"

Norman searched his mind for an answer but none came. He gave Harry a rather sad look and shook his head. "No. The doctors said I may have partial amnesia.... and sometimes it can take several months for the memory to return. I'll be fine, Harry. I appreciate the concern, but there's no need to worry."

Harry simply nodded...but didn't look too convinced. Norman shut his eyes in exhaustion and leaned back into the leather seat as they made their way home.

But I have a feeling .... he thought worriedly.

Maybe I don't want to remember what happened....

------------

A few weeks later, Norman had seemingly rid himself of his so-called "shadow" named Rachel Martinez. She hadn't dropped by, or called at all. That suited Osborn just fine.

Perhaps she had caught the real culprit at last....

Oh? Take a look in the mirror.... hehehe....

Norman sat up in his armchair suddenly, breathing heavily. He moaned in despair. Not again..... The guilt of what happened to Stromm, Slocum... and that infernal detective Martinez poking around.... The guilt was eating at him, and he hadn't the slightest clue why. He thought the evil voice inside his head had finally gone away. It hadn't bothered him in weeks, and yet... it was back to haunt him.

...I'm always here.... we're stuck for life! Ha ha ha ha!!

He shuddered as he poured another shot of vodka and figured some more alcohol would deaden his senses. Usually he didn't like vodka, but on this occasion.... he didn't really care. The past several months had not been pleasant, to say the least. And he desperately wanted to forget it all.

"Hey dad!"

Norman winced at the sound of his son's voice. ...don't yell....

"Hi...what's....." Harry's greeting was abruptly silenced as he watched his father down another shot of vodka. There were six empty shot glasses in front of him. His son whistled and approached slowly. "Whoa. Rough day?"

Norman's eyes glazed over as he stared at his son. "Rough day?" He let out a bitter laugh. "More like...rough week."

"Uh..." Harry hesitated, and picked up the bottle sitting on the bar. "This was full last time I noticed...." It was almost half empty.

Norman scowled at Harry, feeling very dizzy all of a suddden. "Yeah, well.... I needed a drink. Did you want something?"

"I ...uh, just wanted to see if you were okay. You've been acting kinda....strange, lately. Ever since Dr. Stromm died...."

You're smarter than I realized... "I guess the shock of what happened hasn't worn off.... I'm fine, really."

... for a murderer...heh...

Norman tensed up slightly. "I guess I'd should be getting some sleep, now...." He grinned slightly at Harry. "You too, Harry. You have a busy day tomorrow." He started for the stairs, slowly taking one step at a time.

Harry nodded, still looking a bit worried. "All right. But are you sure you're okay?"

Osborn turned to face Harry and sighed. "I think so...."

I'm only lying to myself... I'm NOT okay. In fact, I think I may be losing my mind....

--------

TBC

Author's Note: I'm SO sorry this took awhile to post, but I wanted to put out something really good, rather than write a chapter that everyone hated. That...and I've been in mourning, so I really haven't been in the mood to write. But I'm better now... sort of. My friends still think I'm a loon, but...oh well...*shrugs* ^_~

~Jen
padme_76@yahoo.com

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