Mercuria: Hi, all you wonderful people who are actually reading this story! If I were a flower, I'd bloom when given attention, which translates as, 'I THRIVE on praise.' Critique if you must, but remember to be extremely nice.
NOTES: I don't own Spider-Man. This is slash, meaning (for all you people out there who dislike this sort of thing and claim that people never warn you in the author's notes) male/male pairing. You have been warned. Again, I mean, the warnings are all over the page ...
MORE NOTES: Some lines I put in different places, cut, or changed. Some I left intact because I wuv them. Just thought you oughta know.
********
Flying was, admittedly, quicker than walking. Nevertheless, it was already dark by the time the Green Goblin reached his destination: an abandoned rooftop. He landed his glider, set Spider-Man down gently- it would not do to mar his beauty by injuring him- and waited for the spider to wake up.
'Really, a fascinating creature,' he thought, caressing said creature's masked cheek. 'He's certainly made a challenge out of the otherwise simple task of wreaking havoc in this city. Amazing, beautiful creature. And he'll be mine.'
He grinned.
'Yes, even if you refuse to join forces, little spider, even if you resist me with all your strength, you'll see that you and I belong together. We're special, the elite. One way or another, you'll see.'
The Green Goblin stepped away from his captive.
"Wake up, little spider," he said. "Wake up. And no, you're not dead. Just paralyzed. Temporarily."
Slowly, Spider-Man began to stir. He tried to get up, but failed. All he could do was turn his head from side to side. He was completely at the mercy of his enemy, but the Green Goblin could tell that he was trying to remain calm.
"What do you want with me?"
'So many ways to answer that question,' the Green Goblin thought in amusement, suppressing a chuckle.
"You're an extraordinary creature, Spider-Man," he began. "If I had someone half as strong as you on my side, this city would be on its knees right now."
"I see where this is headed," said Spider-Man. "And your answer is no."
The Green Goblin smiled nastily.
"I was expecting something like that," he said. "But I wouldn't make up my mind so quickly if I were you. You may think you have the support of the populace, but remember this: People don't just admire caped crusader types. They go for the ones who nobly sacrifice themselves for the cause. They LOVE the kind of hero who gives it his all and dies trying. If you don't become one of those, they'll tire of you quickly. It's already begun; Look at The Daily Bugle.
"Right now you're the good guy, but soon every one of the people in this city will fear and despise you."
Spider-Man let out a yawn that was far louder than necessary.
"You're boring me," he said cheerfully. Then his tone darkened. "My answer stays the same. I FIGHT bad guys; I don't join up with them."
The Green Goblin grabbed Spider-Man's chin roughly.
"I don't have to offer you a choice," he growled, a growl closer to a purr. "I could squash you like a bug right now."
Spider-Man said nothing, his silence daring the enemy to follow through. The Green Goblin ran his thumb up and down Spider-Man's jaw line, but made no move to harm him. Spider-Man stiffened at the touch.
"And that's why you need me," the Green Goblin said, continuing from where he had left off. "I'm the only one who can truly understand you."
"How do you figure that?" asked Spider-Man skeptically.
"Because I'm the only one who's like you," the Green Goblin replied, releasing Spider-Man's chin and beginning to pace back and forth. "Our powers set us apart, make us special."
"I'm not like you," Spider-Man said seriously. "Not at all."
"Oh?"
"No."
The Green Goblin shook his head condescendingly.
"You'll see eventually, Spider-Man," he said, jumping onto his glider. "You will never truly be accepted by the common people, and the minute you realize that, you'll come crawling to me. Until then, I can wait."
With that, the Green Goblin proceeded to fly away, zipping in and out among buildings as he went.
"Remember that, my little spider!" he called over his shoulder.
Then he was gone.
******
"Peter, are you up there?" Aunt May called.
No answer.
Without a word having to be spoken by anyone, the entire company crept upstairs. None understood the reason for such stealth, only knew that it was required. Aunt May knocked on Peter's door.
Still no answer.
"That's odd," Aunt May said, half to herself. "I was sure he was-"
She opened the door to check. Not a soul stood in the room, but Norman had the nagging feeling that HE was nearby. Spider-Man. He looked out the open window.
Nothing.
He turned towards Peter's closet.
Not a sign of movement.
Everyone else had gone back downstairs, and Norman was about to join them. Then he heard it.
plink!
A large drop of blood stained the floor.
Norman's eyes flew to the ceiling, but no one was there. He walked to the spot when the blood had dripped and knelt down. Daintily, he scooped up the crimson fluid with one finger and held it to his mouth. His tongue darted out from between his lips; the blood seeped into his taste buds. The sweet yet slightly tangy metallic flavor filled his mouth.
'It tastes like him,' he thought. 'My little spider ... he must be close by.'
Norman ran to the window, not seeing anything but not really expecting to.
'So, the little spider is licking his wounds ... but why HERE? Could your son or Parker know anything about-'
"Norman!" Aunt May called from downstairs. "Peter's back!"
Norman walked down the stairs in time to here Peter saying something about beating up an old lady to get a can of cranberry sauce. He shook Peter's hand absentmindedly and sat down. Aunt May handed Norman a kitchen knife and a sharpener.
"Will you do the honors?" she asked.
With a smile, Norman began to sharpen the knife, wondering what Spider-Man had been doing in Peter Parker's bedroom.
"Why Peter," cried Aunt May. "You're bleeding!"
Norman turned to look and started. Blood was soaking through Peter's shirt ... in the exact same place that he had cut Spider-Man. Peter was saying something, but Norman just stared at the wound, not listening. Finally, he found his voice.
"H-how did you say that happened?"
Peter gazed at him levelly.
"A bike messenger," he said firmly. "Knocked me down."
'Parker ... is Spider-Man?' Norman thought. 'I need to think about this, come up with a strategy ...'
Norman stood up.
"If you'll excuse me," he said.
"Dad," said Harry. "You aren't leaving, are you?"
Norman nodded, putting on his coat.
"Something has ... come to my attention," he mumbled.
Norman left the apartment without further ado. Harry, Aunt May, Peter, and Mary Jane stared at the place where he had been.
"Now why would Norman do that?" Aunt May mused.
"Was it me?" Mary Jane asked nervously.
"Oh no, MJ," Harry said comfortingly. "Dad probably remembered some business thing he has to do. It's just like him, isn't that right Peter?"
Peter sat in silence.
"Peter?"
"Huh?" Peter said, sounding as if he was being brought back into reality. "Oh, um, yeah."
Aunt May looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Are you all right, Peter?" she asked. "Is your cut bothering you? I should get the first aid kit ..."
"Oh no, Aunt May," Peter said quickly. "I'm fine."
Peter wasn't sure why, but a feeling of dread that he could not shake had come over him.
Somehow, he felt that things were reaching a breaking point; a lot was going to happen at once.
Very soon.
*******
Mercuria: Yeah ... last couple of paragraphs was where the "quasi" in "Goblin's quasi-POV" came into play. Other than that, I honestly like this chapter better than the first one. I don't know about you guys, though ... why don't you ... *grin* e-mail me with feedback?

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