A Second Chance For Life

Summary: Peter saved him. Now it’s his turn to save Peter
Warning(s): Spanking; major spoilers for Spider-Man: No Way Home and the first Spider-Man trilogy; minor spoilers for The Amazing Spider-Man; references to violence and character death

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Peter didn’t know what he’d expected when he returned to his home dimension. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, now that he wasn’t with the others. For too long, for far too long, he’d been on his own. Even considering that MJ knew the truth of his identity, he’d still spent years fighting on his own. He didn’t know if the Avengers existed in his own dimension. If they did, he’d never come across them.

A low groan brought Peter’s attention behind him, where Norman Osborn lay on the ground. Clasping his healing wound, Peter limped over and knelt by the older man.

Norman looked up at him, eyes clearer than they had been in a long time. “Harry?” he whispered.

“I’m sorry.” Peter looked down.

Norman swallowed and glanced away. He drew in a deep breath and then placed a hand on Peter’s arm, looking into his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wasn’t myself. Not for a long time.”

“I’m glad I was able to save you this time.” Peter reached out to help Norman up.

The older man grasped Peter’s hand and pushed himself up carefully. Once he was on his feet, though, he didn’t let go. Instead, he studied Peter with a critical eye. “You’re injured.”

Peter frowned and gave an experimental tug on his hand. “I’ll heal.” The words nearly stuck in his throat. He healed, but his best friend hadn’t. And that grief still tormented him, no matter how much time had passed.

Norman gripped Peter’s shoulders tightly and stared straight into his eyes. “I could have killed you.”

“I killed you,” Peter murmured, unable to help the guilt that had caused his throat to close up. For him, it had been years ago. For Norman…their battle had only just occurred. If he even remembered what had happened, now that he’d been cured.

Norman frowned, narrowed eyes watching Peter’s face; his body language. “You put yourself in front of me.”

“He wouldn’t have hurt me. We’re friends. Brothers.”

“You turned your back on me.” Norman’s grip tightened, almost to the point of pain. “You’ve seen what I did, what I became.”

“It wasn’t you,” Peter whispered.

“It was a part of me.” Norman’s hands slid down to grip Peter’s upper arms. “The worst part of me. I’ve lost one son. I won’t lose another.”

“I don’t need a father.”

Norman slowly wrapped his arms around Peter, hugging him tightly. “It’s true that you’re older, now, than what I remember. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need a father. And that doesn’t mean you should allow yourself to take your safety so lightly.” He released Peter with one hand, moving the other to his shoulder once more to grip tight. “Where do you live now?”

“Not far from here.” Peter glanced around the street. They’d been returned in an alleyway at night, so there was little chance of anyone seeing Peter walking around in his Spider-Man outfit. “I don’t know if MJ will be home. I don’t know how much time has passed for me.” Hesitantly, he added, “You’ll find a lot’s changed since you were last here.” He began to walk towards the end of the alleyway, Norman’s hand a warm, comforting weight on his shoulder.

The walk to Peter’s apartment that he shared with MJ was silent. Norman walked close enough that Peter could feel his presence, without feeling like he was being overcrowded.

No words were spoken between them as Peter led the way into his apartment. It was small and homely; kept neat, with everything in its place. A quick glance round revealed that MJ was out…which was just as well. He needed time to think about how he was going to explain Norman Osborn’s survival to her.

Norman squeezed Peter’s shoulder a bit more firmly. “Let’s go and talk in the main room.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Peter took a deep breath and stepped through to the main room.

Once they were inside, Norman took the lead, walking in front of Peter and leading him over to the couch. He took a seat and pulled Peter to stand in front of him. Without any hesitation, he began to unfasten Peter’s suit.

“What are you doing?” Peter took a step back.

Norman gripped the belt of the suit and pulled Peter closer. “I have my mind back and I’m grateful for your part in that. But you put yourself in danger to do that. The world needs Spider-Man.” He continued to unfasten the suit.

Peter lifted his hands, but rather than push away from Norman, he found himself resting them on the older man’s shoulders. Like a toddler, clinging to his parent.

Once the suit was fully unfastened, Norman pushed it down towards Peter’s feet. He lifted each one in turn, pulling the shoe off first one foot and then the other. He tapped each leg in turn and Peter lifted first one and then the other, so that his suit could be pulled free.

Finally, Peter stood in front of Norman Osborn, stripped of his Spider-Man suit. Naked and vulnerable in front of the man he’d once looked up to. The man who’d become his first enemy. The man he remembered killing…but who now sat on his couch in his apartment, alive and well. Whole, finally.

Norman guided Peter round to his side and guided him into position across his lap. Peter bent forward, shifting only enough to make sure he was comfortable. At least as comfortable as he could be, considering what was about to happen. He reached a hand back slowly, leaving it palm up, and found it held fast in a firm grip.

The first slap to Peter’s naked backside made him jump, though the reaction came more from surprise than pain. His fingers curled around Norman’s hand as more smacks landed sharply, hard and fast, rapidly warming up his bottom.

“I know you heal fast, Peter, but you can still be hurt.” Norman spoke seriously as he delivered the smacks, firm and methodical, never changing his pattern. “You can still be killed.”

“I…know….” Peter began to squirm. He couldn’t help it. He had been hurt in the past, but being in this position…his bare bottom being spanked by someone he’d once seen as a father figure…was harder to deal with than any injury he’d received. He shifted and clung to Norman’s hand, eyes beginning to water. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“So am I,” Norman replied. “I didn’t give you a choice in the first place, Peter. I might not remember dying, but I know you wouldn’t have acted if there was another way.”

Peter drew in a deep breath. Tears spilled out of his eyes and he let out a quiet sob. The spanking hurt, but it was a mild pain compared to what he’d been through in the past. “I should have found another way,” he choked out.

“It wasn’t your fault, Peter.” Norman’s voice was low but intense. He continued to smack firmly, even as he held Peter’s hand tight.

When Norman’s hand began to focus lower down on his backside, giving attention to his sit spots and the tops of his thighs, Peter began to kick his legs in response. In a voice choked with tears, he forced out, “I had to save you! You were the closest thing I had to a father and I…I couldn’t save Harry.” He began to sob hard, finally going limp over Norman’s lap.

“Good,” Norman said. “We’ve dealt with the guilt. Now it’s time to deal with you putting yourself in danger.”

Peter twisted round, in time to see Norman reach over to pick up his own belt. As Norman doubled it over in his hand, Peter quickly looked away. But even if he couldn’t see the see the belt fall, he certainly felt it slap against his backside, leaving a stripe of fire in its wake.

The strapping was delivered at a slow, leisurely pace. Somehow, Norman timed each subsequent strike to land just before Peter’s skin healed fully from the previous. Each time the belt landed against tender skin, it wrenched a pained cry from Peter’s throat.

By the time Norman stopped, Peter’s whole backside ached, burned, and his face was awash with tears. He was slumped limp over Norman’s lap, crying out all of the negative emotions that he’d pushed down for so long. All of the guilt, grief, anger, pain drained from him as he cried. He had someone who could hold him accountable. Finally.

Norman rubbed Peter’s back in slow, soothing circles, letting him calm down. When Peter’s tears finally died down and then stopped, he found himself helped up; felt himself caught in a tight embrace.

Swallowing his tears down, Peter wrapped his own arms around Norman and held on tight. It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself to be comforted…to lean on someone else for support, rather than trying to be strong for everyone in his life. Sooner or later, he would have to take on the dual mantle of Spider-Man and Peter Parker; the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man and the man who’d built his own life from all of the events that had contributed to his life now.

But, for the time being, he could let himself be taken care of. Let someone else be the strong one for a change.

The End