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He sits down on the dirt-riddled couch, a steaming cup of tea clutched in his hand. The tea’s smell wafts through the air, slight ginger combined with lemon. He leans his head against the side of the couch, it sinking into the plush fabric. He stares out of the window of the luxurious condo he has found himself in. The kid allowed all of them into this place, having high hopes. He doesn’t quite feel the same way. This is only going to end in disaster.
Norman squints out the window, observing the city below. So much has changed in the past years. One day, it was 2002 in his universe, but now it’s 2024. Some electronic billboards are advertising new beauty products. Others are advertising technology he couldn’t even fathom. He thought his Blackberry was the top of the line, but even he had a little bit of difficulty using it sometimes. He may be something of a scientist, but he’s no phone expert. This world's technology is just so great. These kids carry phones with a computer processing power that would blow away any old computer from his time. Diverting his eyes from the billboards and ads, he looks down into the somewhat opaque cup of tea. He doesn’t want to think about his world now, it’s best to let it be. He takes a sip, the hot liquid scalding his tongue. He doesn’t care right now, why should he.
Everyone else has found a room to claim or is lazing around somewhere. There’s only one other person in his proximity and it is Otto Octavius. He doesn’t know much about that world's Octavius, but he guesses he doesn’t like him much either. The face he shared was a mix between bittersweet and hatred. Norman knows that from where he comes from, Otto Octavius is dead and hated him every single second he was alive. The man never forgave him for what he did, up until the day he died. He shouldn’t have fired the great mind from Oscorp, he could have been a better friend, he could have not been an awful person. He could have, he would have, but it's all in the past. There is nothing Norman can do now except take this second chance.
Where Otto stands, he isn’t doing much either, only standing there. The actuator arms are without his control and wrapped around his body, making sure he doesn’t pull anything. His face presses into a scowl, scowling at nothing in particular. Ever since the accident, he has become nothing but a grumpy man who is ever so slowly aging. Norman does wonder what’s going on in his brain, there’s so much up there. Otto looks transfixed on something, almost as if he’s in a trance-like state. Maybe it’s the arms, maybe they’re talking to him. Dissociation, even? He would never know.
Aunt May reaches for one of the cabinets and pulls it open, revealing an array of cups and glasses. She pulls one off of the shelf and fills it up with water from the tap. With the cup of water in hand, she taps Otto on the shoulder. The man almost jumps out of his skin, shocked by her presence. He is in a trance if he didn’t see or notice her there before.
“Um, would you like a glass of water?” she asks, gesturing to the cup in her hands.
“Hey Otto, want a coffee to fuel that scientific energy of yours?”
He pauses for a moment not sure what to say.
“Yes, I would like that,” he responds. Something is so calculated about it, nervous even.
“Freshwater, or salt?”
“What?”
“You know because you’re an… octopus.” She trails off, the awkwardness of the situation intensifying.
“Um.”
“Well, freshwater it is.”
May hands the glass over to him. Out of instinct, Otto tries using his extra appendages to grab the glass but realizes he can’t. He holds out his hand and grabs the glass instead. She walks away, leaving the gloomy and looming man alone.
The woman reminds him of his late wife, Rosie. He loved her so dearly and it makes his heart grieve and ache. Same long brown hair, albeit May’s is lighter, and a fun sense of humor. A kind gentleness and generosity. He doesn’t even know this world's Aunt May, but she keeps reminding him of his Rosie. Every time she talks or cracks a joke, a wave of sadness passes through him, it makes him reminisce on his fond memories.
Otto leaves his thoughts behind, feeling the ever-so intrusive stare boring into his face. He looks over to his left and sees Norman curled up on the couch with a cup of tea in his hands. With a quick flick of icy blue eyes into his own, he averts his gaze, choosing to stare out the window once more.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’ll be okay. He was super awful anyway. He didn’t deserve you.”
Her voice haunts his mind. It’s a memory ripped from his mind bank going back to that awful day. A man he trusted, someone he cared about ditched him and left him to rot. They went to college together, they built a friendship together, veering on a life together. They did so much together, the two knew everything about each other and trusted each other with their lives. Before their wives were in the picture, they even had a slight romance. Those moments of intimacy were like no other, he truly was different. If he cared so much, why did he leave him? That question lingered in his mind for years and years on end, until he finally pieced together the answer. It was all of the goblin’s fault. That evil side of him destroyed everything Norman had going for him. A family, a business, a life of wealth and luxury. Well, he still had it all, not the love, though. There was no love in his life. After he saw the reports about the goblin in the news, it all made sense. He was taking revenge for all of the people he thought denied him any opportunity. The goblin was the reason for him not having his job at Oscorp, so he shouldn’t feel the need to hold a grudge, but he does. He does hold a grudge. The pain and severity of that situation crushed him, left him with no hope.
“Norman,” he says, hearing the nervousness in his voice. His voice was so loud and jittery in his ears, it scared him.
The other man turned his head back towards him, looking into his eyes.
“What.”
“Do you ever think back to what you did?”
“Not particularly, I don’t remember anything.”
“Don’t remember? What do you mean you don’t remember?”
“He doesn’t allow me to remember!” Norman spits this with venom.
Norman looks at him, anger and fear reflecting in his eyes.
“The Goblin?” he asks, his voice sounding weak, too. He hates it. He hates how small he sounds next to the aggravated man.
“Yes.”
He looks down, shame billowing inside of him. He doesn’t know what he did, he doesn't know why Otto is so mad at him. He knows that he fired him, but not the details of the situation. It was such a long time ago, too.
“Can you tell me?”
“Huh?”
“Can you tell me what I did, why you despise me so much?”
“There’s a lot to get into,” Otto starts. “There’s a lot to despise.” He says the last part more rudely than he anticipated. He didn’t mean to be like that, it’s that all of this anger has been pent up inside. He never got the chance to talk Norman’s ear off about it. He was his boss at the time and even when he was gone from the company Norman died. Norman Osborn died.
“First of all, you were an awful boss. Ever since the first day that I got there, you were so rude, condescending, and manipulative. I could see the sneakiness in your eyes." He says all this while pointing a finger, albeit strained due to the actuator arms wrapped around him, in his direction. His face scrunches up with distress and anger.
Norman nods along, not speaking. That’s nice. He is usually one to interrupt every second and defend himself from the depths of hell. Maybe he has changed.
“What made me mad was the events leading up to me getting fired. We used to be close, you know. We were inseparable, the greatest friends, I guess. Thinking back, maybe I am a little petty, but I’ve never been able to let it go. So, the night before you fired me, you kissed me.”
Those words sparked memories in Norman’s mind. He remembers now. Not all of it, of course, but some of it. He feels guilty now, stealing a kiss from a married man, firing him the next day. His insolence will never end.
"I don't know what you want me to say," Normal says, apologetically.
Otto believes him and he doesn’t hold it against him. He hums in response, not sure what to say next. The two men awkwardly glance around, wondering where the conversation will go if it goes anywhere at all.
“It’s not the kiss that I’m mad about. It’s that you fired me the day after to stop feeling guilty.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t feel guilty anymore.”
“I would hope so, it’s been about ten years now."
“If it’s been so long, then why do you feel this way?”
Otto sends an angry glance at him. “I hold grudges.”
“We’re just bitter old men,” Otto says, calmer this time. His anger has somewhat subsided, realizing how petty this situation is.
“Huh?”
“I said, we’re just bitter old men.”
“I wouldn’t go around calling you old.”
“Well, I’m not exactly young.”
Norman stands up, the steaming cup of tea still in his hand. This time, it is lukewarm rather than steaming. He places it on the table and walks over to Otto. Then, he does something that Norman, or the Goblin, would never do in his right mind. He hugs him. He wraps his arms around the bigger man, trying his best when the robotic tendrils are in the way. He places his head on his chest, able to feel his heartbeat thumping in his ribcage. Otto allows himself to breathe normally, comfortable with the warm embrace. This is the first time he’s hugged someone like this in a long time. The last person to do this was… Rosie. He tries to push away his current sadness and to focus on the man who has his arms around him. He can feel his eyes becoming wet, he doesn’t know why he has the urge to cry. He can’t cry here, especially not in front of Norman. So, he pushes Norman a little bit, to nudge him out of the embrace. As soon as the shorter man lets go, Otto plops himself on the couch, head in his hands.
The complicated part is that he shares the same feelings, but Norman Osborn has to make everything complicated. These feelings have been simmering ever since they first met, going on hold when he met Rosie and married her. He loves both of them. It felt wrong to admit that he still has these sorts of feelings towards him, especially since his wife passed away not too long ago. His heart is tearing itself into shreds yet it’s also full of love and endearment. By the time he puts his head up again, Norman is sitting on the couch next to him. The man has been so unusual and out of character. He’s not going on, being a blabbermouth. He’s nice right now and not fueled by capitalistic greed and anger, at the moment.
Without thinking, Otto sits up straight and kisses Norman. An act of impulsivity, one fueled by love and sadness. His hands are unusable at the moment, so he can’t hold him, but Norman does instead. His hand glides to the back of his head, running through his hair. Before everything becomes too overwhelming and passionate, Otto leaves the kiss, looking him in the eyes.
“Think of this as payback.”