Link : https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13663353/2/Dark-Spider
WC : 41k+
Plot : Bash Blackwell knew his curiosity would get the better of him. He just never thought it would lead to him becoming host to a dangerous alien parasite called Venom. Now, with incredible powers, he must use them to protect the city from all the criminals that try to destroy it.
Chapter 1 (Its too lengthy to post the whole thing)
Darkness. That's all Bash saw around him was the claustrophobic pitch darkness that made him feel as if he was confined in a coffin that made him panic.
"Sebastian? Sebastian?" Called out a frightened female voice. The one in question, Bash, recognized that voice. "Bash?!"
"Mom?" He frantically called out to her, his voice echoed like he was in a wide empty room. She sounded worried. Scared even and it made him begin to panic more.
"Bash!" She cries out to him. She sounded so close but he could not see her or anything for that matter.
"Mom, where are you?! I...I can't see you! I can't see anything!"
"Baby, I am so sorry!" His mother sounded like she was sobbing now. "I am so...so sorry for putting you through this!"
"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Bash cried out to his mother looking around for her, only to find nothing but pitch darkness. "What's going on?"
"Please, don't hurt him! He's just a boy! He has nothing to do with this!"
"Who's here?!" Bash yelled. "Mom, who are you talking to?!"
"Sebastian, I love you so much." His mother said calmly as she tried to hold back her heavy sobs.
Then he heard her screams. Her terrible terrified pleading screams that pierced his ears and frightened him even more.
"Mom!" Bash continued to yell out for her. He wanted to see her, to help her but he felt so useless. So helpless.
"MOM!"
"MOM!"
"MOM!"
Bash's eyes snapped open, the fear of his nightmare still clear in his wide frightened gaze.
His chest heaved as he took in large deep breaths to calm his tense shaking body. He felt like he hadn't taken a breath in a long time and his heart raced as if he had been running for miles.
It took a few moments for him to calm down and realize he was in his bedroom, though the room looked blurry and scrambled to find his glasses on the bedside table and put them on. The nightmare felt so real to him that he could still hear everything from his mother's scared voice to her blood-curdling screams.
For a bit, he just lay there in his big soft bed, trying to relax and put the bad dream back in the back of his mind. This wasn't the first time he's had this nightmare but it doesn't get any easier.
As he shifted around, he realized his grey bed sheets were tangled around his bare legs from the constant tossing and turning he did throughout the night.
Feeling slightly better, Bash sat himself up and scooted to the edge of the bed, resting his arms on his lap as he rubbed his hands up his face and through his messy brown hair.
He hated that nightmare. It always switched between this one and another, the car wreck that took his mother's life and six weeks of his own and has forever changed what remains. Both of them were horrible but this one, in particular, messed with him the most but he could never figure out why. It had been days since he last was last plagued by it but apparently his mind didn't want to stop the torment he already endured on a daily basis.
Taking one last slow deep breath, Bash removed his hands covering his face to glance around his naturally dimly lit bedroom, just to make sure it was still real. He needed this comfort right now to calm down.
It was a large open bedroom, far too large for him that was still practically empty, even with his belongings from his former home filling up whatever space available, there was still a lot to be used, with his large bed and a rather large sturdy dark oak desk that carried his laptop and school books he left out when he did his homework the night before as well as a Yashica Electro 35 brand camera. Not far off is a fairly large bookcase built into the wall filled with novels varied between modern and classics. On the other side of the room, it was laid out like a small living area with a large TV mounted against another wall above a large fireplace with a set of black leather couches and a wooden coffee table facing toward it and two doors on either side of that wall, one leading to the rest of the residence while the other leads to his personal bathroom.
To the right of his bed, the wall was covered completely by floor to ceiling windows that gave him a gorgeous view of the city and Central Park just across the street. He hardly ever had to turn on the lights in his room because of the brightness of the surrounding city flooded in giving him more than enough light for him. Even at night he had enough light to filter through his room from the surrounding buildings of Manhattan and even the neighboring Midtown.
It was a vast contrast to his old bedroom in San Francisco, where he lived with his mother. This whole house was a vast contrast in fact. He was so used to the calm and quiet suburbs of his quaint home, that he was still having a hard time getting used to this giant mansion-like penthouse located in the upper Eastside in Manhattan. Even before when he used to visit as a child, it felt strange to be here sleeping in this big room and big bed given to him by his father and stepmother when he came over during the holidays and designated days he stayed with them.
Carefully, he began to stand up from the bed. His face scrunched in discomfort and a hiss of pain escaped from his teeth clenching mouth. His shaky right hand moved from his right leg where he held on with a firm grasp as his body slowly stood up, his back hunched and he leaned a little to the right. He wobbled for a moment as he tried to gain his footing. A feat that has become difficult for a while.
His legs were not what they used to be as a result of the car accident. Amongst the array of injuries he received that night, the most prominent was the damage to his spine that left him with substantial nerve damage that made the doctors say it was very unlikely he would ever walk again.
After a year and a half of intense physical therapy and many surgeries have proved those doctors wrong and allowed Bash to walk again, a miracle according to the doctors that treated him. While he could indeed stand and walk on his two feet, he still needed a cane and had a limp that the doctors said would never go away. The damage was too great and his spine is far too fragile to continue any further surgery without undoing all the progress they have made and end up making him completely paralyzed. In short, this was as good as it was going to get for him. It was a hard pill for Bash to swallow.
After stretching as best as he could, Bash adjusted the waistband of his black boxer briefs and fixed the loose-fitting grey tank top before reaching ahead to the cane leaning against the bedside table and gripped it tightly with his left hand as he put his weight on it as he found his footing. He hated the cane as it drew so much attention to him but it is a necessary accessory, a hard lesson he learned when he tried to walk without it and fell, much to the annoyance of his father who called the incident a learning experience and to not do that again. The only good thing about the cane is that it's pretty dope, made from ebony wood with a sterling silver handle. It belonged to his late grandfather, William Mercer Sr. Bash never got the chance to meet him but he figured it was a good thing since it was half of the man's fault for keeping his father away.
Walking across the cold wooden floor, Bash made his way toward the bathroom to get ready for the day.
Heading to the far end of the bathroom, past the large walk-in closet and wall of counter space, Bash stopped at the rather spacious glass cubicle of his shower where he opened the door and stepped inside.
While he had been recovering in the hospital, Bash's father, William Mercer, or Bill for short, had made sure to make some adjustments around the mansion to make it easier for his son when he comes home. One of them was remodeling his shower to be roomier and have a place for him to sit rather than stand while he showered. Bash felt embarrassed having to use it. It made him feel like he was an old man that couldn't even stand on his own for too long.
Truthfully though, he needed it, as much as he hated to admit it. Especially after he took a very hard fall when he last attempted to shower while standing and slipped on the wet floor and had to get help from the nurse that took care of him at home after he left the hospital. The first of many falling incidents that he has been and by far the most embarrassing to date.
Once he adjusted the water to the desired temperature, Bash undressed and tossed his clothing into the nearby hamper before carefully stepping into the steaming shower.
The warm water felt great as it cascaded down his hunched back as he sat down in the shower. Already having washed his body and hair, he used the rest of the time to relax and prepare for the day.
Since leaving the hospital, it has become a regular requirement for him to have physical therapy sessions to keep his limbs from getting stiff. He normally does his PT at home in the private gym but today, he needed to go in for a check-up. Then there is the session with his shrink. This one he was reluctant to go to but his father was insistent that he go see someone to talk about the trauma the accident left behind.
Bash turned off the water and limped to the glass door, holding on to metal rails that lined the walls. Opening the door, he grabbed the grey towel hanging from the nearby hook and dried his hair and body before wrapping it around his waist.
Wiping the fog from the mirror, Bash stared back at the gaunt pale reflection of what was once a rather handsome boyish face. His frown seemed to be his default expression for a while now. His jawline was shadowed with dark stubble of coarse hair beginning to grow back after his last shave nearly two weeks ago.
After brushing his teeth, he combed through his shaggy mop top to look somewhat presentable, letting a few strands relax on his furrowed brow just above his tired blue eyes behind the thick magnifying lens of his glasses. Another necessary accessory that is a result of the car accident. His eyes were badly damaged and affected his sight greatly.
Looking down at the rest of his upper body. He was never buff or muscular before the accident but he could see the reduction of what little muscle he did have disappeared as any form of physical activity besides walking and what was allowed in PT was decreased to almost non-existent. Now, he looked like a gangly slouching stick. The damage to his spine causes him to hunch that even affects his height.
Going through his closet for an outfit to wear, Bash passed by the sets of school uniforms his father purchased for him to wear to school. Illythia Academy, an ultra-exclusive prep school where he now attends. The school has a fairly strict dress code that requires all students to wear the appointed uniform on campus. Fortunately, they weren't too stuffy about how you wore it, as long as it was appropriate. The school once tried to fight how the students wore the altered uniforms but were ultimately met with angry parents AKA New York's rich and powerful who also handsomely donate money to the school. Not wanting to upset the financiers of the school, the administrators bowed down to the demands and allowed the students to alter the uniforms, within reason.
Passing by the uniforms, Bash made his way through the rest of the closet. Much like his bedroom, the closet itself was far too large and his clothes barely took up one side of a wall, leaving a big portion of open space available.
After finding an appropriate outfit to wear and putting it on, Bash walked over to the mirror to make sure everything he wore looked fine; a pair of black jogger sweats and a grey hoodie with the name and mascot of his old school in San Francisco. Next was the leg brace he had to put on his right leg every day. It was uncomfortable to wear but it was a requirement when he began walking. After strapping the brace on his bum leg, he slipped on a pair of athletic shoes to wear to his appointments he had to go to today.
After one last look over in the mirror, Bash made his way to the desk and grabbed the messenger bag with everything he needed to take with him while he was out for the day and exited the room.
Walking down the main staircase has become a real chore for Bash. Actually, walking around anywhere in this mansion was a chore for him these days with it being such an expansive residence.
Stepping down from the final step, he gave a sigh of relief at finally having made it to the leveled ground of the mansions foyer.
Turning to his left, he walked to the kitchen, inhaling the very delicious scent of breakfast as he made his way over.
As soon as Bash entered the kitchen, he was met with the curious eyes of his family as they heard the tapping of his cane on the wooden floors caused them to look up from their meals. Well, only most members of the family were in attendance.
Valerie, his stepmother, was dressed up in her work attire, a pristine black suit and white button-down blouse and her dark brown hair pulled up in a perfect bun, making it apparent that she was going into her office today at her father's law firm.
His half-brother, Robbie, was surprisingly dressed for the day given the early time it is and the fact it was a weekend, meaning he was likely going somewhere today.
"Sebastian, good morning!" Came the cheerful greeting from Valerie, who put down the IPad she was most likely reading her work emails. Robbie barely acknowledged his presence with a slight turn of his head before going back to whatever he was reading on his phone while eating what he took from the spread of breakfast laid out in the center of the table.
Valerie has always been nice to Bash, despite him not being her son biologically. Since finding out her husband Bill had another son and wanted to be in his life, she made sure to make him feel welcome in their home. Valerie has made this more apparent when Bash moved in by taking time off her busy schedule at her family's law firm to stay and take care of him the first few months he was released from the hospital.
"Good morning." Bash greeted back with a small smile as he made his way to a vacant seat and collected a plate and silverware in front of him and started filling the dish with bacon eggs and his favorite, French toast. "This all smells delicious. Thank you so much, Valerie. You really did not have to go through the trouble of making all of this."
"It's no problem at all." she said after taking a sip of her coffee. "I was up early anyway and feeling the need for french toast myself."
Bash didn't have to see him to know that Robbie was rolling his eyes. He responded to the act like he's been doing since moving here, and the many times he visited since he was ten, he ignored him. There was no point in trying to make peace with someone when the other party is not willing to try. The only thing he could do was to avoid him as best he could, which was easy considering Robbie mostly stayed at the dorms at school and when he did come home, well, the house was big enough to where they won't run into each other. Today is one of those few days where they happen to cross paths. It was a holiday weekend and Bill had Robbie come home to spend time with the family rather than his friends. Of course, Bill ended up having to go into work and has barely been home and everyone home has stayed in their respective sections in the Penthouse.
"Hey, Ryan's here. I am going to head out." Robbie announced as he stood up from the table. "I promised Ryan and Liz and the others I'd go and hang out with them today and head back to the dorms."
"Oh, okay…" Valerie said, sounding a little despondent.
"What's the matter, mom?" Robbie asked with only a mild curiosity.
"I just thought you'd be here for one more day. We hardly ever see you."
Bash did not like that she included him with that "we" since he does in fact see Bash at school as they do have more than a few classes together but also because he does not care.
Robbie sighed and rolled his eyes at his mother. God forbid he had to spend time with his mother rather than with his fellow entitled douchebag friends awaiting him outside of the building.
"Mom, I already skipped out on hanging out with the guys on Friday because Dad was supposed to be home but he bailed on us, again. And Coach wants me to go in early on Monday to make up for the time I missed and it's just easier to do that if I'm already on campus."
Valerie sighed. As his mother she had the authority to keep him here but it was not satisfactory enough for Robbie and ultimately she would end up with an already unhappy seventeen-year-old being even angrier. Plus, Robbie did make a valid argument about it being easier to go to practice if he was already on campus. Even she, a lawyer herself, can tell that as well.
"All right Sweetheart. Go. Have fun." She said to her son. Robbie quickly got up and without missing a beat as he grabbed his backpack and duffel bag from the floor. "When will you be back?"
"Uh...I'm not sure." Robbie stopped at the kitchen doorway and responded as if distracted and barely looked up from his phone screen as he texted one of his friends. "I got a lot of homework and Basketball practice to get ready for the season. I just think I'm going to be too tired and busy to travel back over here anytime soon. I'm sorry, mom."
Valerie smiles and shakes her head. "No it's absolutely fine. Go and have a good time with your friends. Be safe and call me when you get to school."
"Yup." Robbie said without looking at his mother and continued on his way out of the room and disappeared after turning out of the doorway of the kitchen.
There was a moment of silence in the kitchen with only the sounds of silverware gently scraping against the plates and the occasional light slurping of coffee.
"Did Bill already leave for work?" Bash asked Valerie as he reached for the half-full coffee pot and poured himself more of the hot beverage into his empty mug. He had heard his father come in late last night when he snuck into the kitchen for a late-night snack. From his lack of appearance here at the table, it's safe to assume it was only a quick stop, most likely to change clothes and freshen up a bit before heading back to the office.
"Yes, he did." Valerie replied to the question, a tinge of remorse could be heard in her tone. "He was unexpectedly called in to work earlier and had to leave as soon as possible. But he said he would take you to lunch after your appointments."
It didn't surprise Bash that his father wasn't present. Being the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company like Mercer Industries, William Mercer was often at work, overseeing the many divisions of the company and making sure everything was running smoothly to continue their success. Bash couldn't be mad at his father though because all this hard work was to make the world a better place one project at a time.
"Maybe you could join us for lunch?" Bash offered. He knew he wasn't the only one being put aside by William.
"Oh, that's sweet of you Sebastian." Valerie smiled at him kindly at the offer. "But I have meetings all day today at the office. But this will be good for you and your father since you two haven't spent time together in a while."
Bash gave her a nod and a small smile before returning to his plate and allowed the silence to return to the room.
"Do you have everything ready for tomorrow?" Valerie asked him. "Assignments completed and textbooks gathered?"
"Yes to all." Bash chuckled. "Everything is finished. All I gotta do is pack everything up in my backpack. It's all over my desk."
"Good." Valerie smiled at him and sighed. "So, how has school been so far? Do you like Illithya Prep?"
"Uh…" Bash began. He knew what he wanted to say but it would not be the answer that Valerie would expect to hear. It has been a tough road for all of them and she has helped him every step of the way and has seen the progress that he's made from being wheelchair-bound and unlikely to ever walk again to overcoming that obstacle and walking with the aid of a cane. She is so excited for him to be able to go back to school and begin the process of having a normal life. Semi-normal, at least.
"...Yeah, it's really great." Bash responded with a forced smile as he told her what she wanted to hear and returned to his meal. He couldn't tell her how he really felt about going to Illithya Preparatory. A whole new school, with his douchey entitled half-brother and his equally douchey entitled friends, no less. However, he can't say no to their offer. The school, despite the students it caters to, is a great institution with guaranteed acceptance to a great college and career. Then there is the large tuition they already paid for him to attend (not that the thousands of dollars spent on tuition made a dent in their wallets) and all the help they gave him during his recovery that made him concede to the idea of attending the exclusive school. It was the least he could do for them.
"I know that it wasn't an easy recovery for you, Sebastian," She softly told him. It was nearly impossible to hide anything from Valerie as she had a knack for finding tells in people's mannerisms and tone of voice, even the slightest bit. "but I want you to know how proud your father and I are at how far you've come. You have managed to surpass the expectations of every physician that has treated you and now you get to resume a normal life once again."
Normal? Life was never going to be normal for him ever again. Nevertheless, Bash did not want to tell her that in the event that he could hurt her feelings. After all, she is just trying to make him feel better about the drastic changes. She is a mother after all. It is instilled in her to make her kids feel better.
With a simple kind smile, he thanked her for the encouragement and resumed eating his meal before he had to leave for his appointments.
xXx
xXx
Bash was eternally grateful for the elevator or it would have taken him forever to get down the tall building's long flight of stairs down to the garage. Another thing he was grateful for about the elevator is the fact it is a private one directly linked to the penthouse. With no worries of other boarders and constant stops along the way down, he could relax and enjoy the solitary moment to himself.
The elevator car dinged and the light on the button labeled PG (Penthouse Garage), making the car slow to a gentle stop when it reached the desired location. Bash stood up straight from his leaning position as he readied himself to exit.
When the doors slid open, Bash was greeted with the wide-open space of the private garage. The garage for the other residents of the building was one floor above this one.
Nearly half of the parking spaces were occupied by gorgeous vehicles that his father collected over the years and a few he even drove to work.
Bash loved to come down here once in a while and admire the impressive collection of exotic classic luxury and sports cars and even a few exclusive and custom models. He would even sit in a few that he liked the most and imagine himself driving around town in them.
His sight though was set on the one vehicle that belonged to him. The gorgeous jet-black Ducati Scrambler parked far back in one of the aisles waiting patiently to be ridden.
Dust was beginning to settle on the motorcycle once more, making Bash take a mental note to remember to come down here and give it a good cleaning.
It was his prized possession. A gift from his father for his fifteenth birthday. He was shocked to see his dream bike being delivered to his house but not as shocked as his mother was when she saw the "dangerous" vehicle. She was furious at first and nearly called Bill demanding he take it back but when she saw how happy Bash was for the gift, she decided to keep it and make him wait until he got his license in one year.
He, unfortunately, never got the chance.
It was upsetting to him that he never got to ride his beloved bike and even more so knowing that he might not ever get a chance to. Many times he tried to sit on the dark leather seat but his bad leg made it so uncomfortable for him to sit on that there would be no way for him to ride it for long periods of time, if at all. Bill and Valerie most likely would never let him ride it with his permanent condition.
With a heavy sigh, Bash gave the bike one last pat on the handlebars before walking off toward the exit to the alleyway.
The family's driver, a mid-twenties man of average height was leaning against the hood of the trunk engrossed in his phone when Bash came through the garage's exit.
"Roy!" Bash bellowed over the loud Fifth Avenue traffic.
Roy stood up fast and pocketed the phone before opening the back door for Bash.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want you on your phone when you're on the clock?!" Bash asked him with a condescending tone. "Your girlfriend can wait until your shift is over."
Roy said nothing but kept a blank expression on his face.
"I expect nothing less than the best from my household staff and yet here you are, my driver, slacking off once again. Tell me, what do you have to say for yourself?"
The two remained quiet for a moment before the two of them burst out laughing and shook hands.
"You know, you almost sound like Bill." Roy chuckled as he helped Bash get into the black town car.
"Really? I was trying to sound more like Robbie."
"You need to add a bit more of snark to your tone." Roy advised before handing Bash his cane and closed the door. Bash let out a small chortle as he watched his driver walk around the car to the driver seat and open the door. "Remember, you are trying to mimic a pompous ass."
"I'll be sure to remember that next time." Bash said as he felt the car start and begin to make its way into the morning traffic.
"So, how has it been so far going to school alongside the 'young elites' of New York?" Roy asked him after driving for some time. "Are you enjoying your time in the world of High Society yet?"
"I don't really have much of a choice in the matter." Bash answered him as he stared out at the passing traffic. It hasn't exactly been a debut per se, the members of New York's upper-class society are aware of Bash's existence with the Mercers being such an old and high profile family but since his accident, Bash has been keeping a low profile and only left the Penthouse for appointments, Bill and Valerie's idea to keep him safe. Being an illegitimate child to a man of a powerful family was one thing, but to be a crippled illegitimate child was another. "Since this is my life now, I have to get used to it."
"Come on. It can't be that bad. I mean you're a Mercer. You practically own New York and I think a country or two. You're basically New York royalty."
"First off, I'm a Blackwell." Bash corrected him on the surname. There was a reason his mother gave him her last name instead of his father's and it must have been a good one too if it left him off of the birth certificate and not mentioning Bill to him for the first ten years of his life. His mother Amy would have most likely never told him about his father but fate and the bad luck of being chased by a dog and nearly impaling himself while trying to jump a rod iron fence brought Bill back into the mix once again. Bill was shocked to find out Amy bore and raised his son and was angry that she never told him that she was even pregnant. After the brief shock of finding out he has another son, Bill went to help out right away by providing the hospital with the blood type they needed to give Bash for the surgery. They were low on the rare blood type that he is and Bill had sent an order to have plenty delivered to the hospital to help out. He even had his own blood drawn and given to Bash first to help prepare for the surgery since they both share the same blood type. After that ordeal, Bill decided he wanted to be in his life as much as possible.
Bash has nothing bad to say about his father, Bill is a good man from what he can see but the man is so busy and hardly at home that he feels like he doesn't know the man other than what he sees in newspapers and magazines. From what they say, his father is making the world a better place. How can he be mad at a man that is doing that?
"And second, I don't own anything other than a few things in my room. The Mercers own everything else."
That was not his own thinking but an opinion highly regarded within the Mercer family. With the exception of Bill and Valerie, the rest of his family believes he doesn't deserve anything from the family, not the fortune or the prestige that comes with being in the family but like the cowards they are, only say it in whispers amongst themselves. The one who openly expresses this is Valerie's father, Mason Reeves, who has on many occasions made Bash feel unwelcome whenever he visited and even openly doted on Robbie in front of him. It all would have made Bash feel terrible if he actually cared, but he didn't and still doesn't to this day. He doesn't want his father's money or the status that comes with the family.
The rest of the car ride was relatively quiet with the exception of the music from the radio and the muffled noise of the city beyond the confines of the car.
The car finally slowed as they made it to their destination; Mercer Medical Facility. One of the many places in New York with his father's name on it. It was here in this building that he woke up from his coma after the accident. His father wanted to keep him close and with doctors that he trusted (and employed) and was treated for the remainder of his recovery.
Roy drove the car into the parking lot and parked it in the space reserved for the Mercer family and got out of the car. Bash began to unbuckle his seatbelt as Roy opened the door for him. Taking the cane Bash handed to him with one hand, Roy held out his other hand for Bash to hold on to while he got out of the car.
Bash hated that he requires this much help to do something as simple as getting out of a car but he figured it could be worse when he remembers what it was like for him before when he needed help completely to do the simplest of tasks.
With as strong of a grip as he could get, Bash held on to Roy's arms as he got out of the car.
"You good?" Roy asked as he carefully watched Bash stagger a bit to gain his footing.
"Yeah I'm good." Bash answered and reached out for his cane that Roy gave back to him, relieved to put his weight on it. "Hey, it's gonna be a while since I have two appointments today so why don't you head on out and I'll call you when—"
"Oh ho ho," Roy chuckled and shook his head. "I don't think so. The last time you told me that, you snuck out and wandered off and I had to drive all over Manhattan looking for you and getting in trouble with your dad so I am going to stay right here and wait for you. I even have a sack lunch and a book in the passenger seat to keep me company and Valerie has informed me that security will be ready to alert me when you are done with your appointments so don't even try to sneak out any other way."
Bash groaned in annoyance. He didn't mean to get Roy in trouble that last time, he just wanted to get out for a bit on his own. He had just been told that this progress will most likely not go any further and he just needed some fresh air as he processed the information. He didn't realize he had been walking for as long as he did until he found himself feeling lethargic and his bum leg throbbing and when he checked his phone, he found it was still off so that it did not interrupt his sessions and when he turned it back on, he found a bunch of missed calls and text messages from Roy and Valerie and even his father, which surprised him that Bill found time to call him or that someone managed to even get a hold of him to tell him what happened. Needless to say, they were both angry at him and at Roy, which cooled off when he admitted that Roy was not to blame for what happened.
Roy did not get into too much trouble, thankfully since it wasn't his fault in the first place but he was told to keep a better eye on him when they went out, which only mildly insulted Bash because he felt like he was being treated like a child that required a babysitter but he understood that it comes with good intentions and thus did not take it too hard. He also apologized to Roy for putting him in that predicament which Roy accepted but since then he has been keeping an annoyingly close eye on him.
Reluctantly, Bash agreed to not wander off into the city and made his way to the elevator and pushed the button to the floor he needed to go.
The check-up went well, according to the doctor. He saw no reason that the semi-healed injuries should keep him from attending school in person. He told Bash to take it easy, make sure to find the quickest ways to each of his classes and to be sure to use the cane at all times. Great...just great.
When that appointment was over, Bash left the exam room and made his way for his next appointment on another floor of the building.
Dr. Marlene Sanders is Mercer Medical's resident mental health professional and the second appointment for Bash Blackwell.
Bash was reluctant to speak with a psychotherapist when his father first suggested he see her because he felt he did not need to see her. Bill told him that it would be good for him to help him cope with the traumatic experience of the accident and the loss of his mother as well as his recovery. Having a healthy mind could help with the physical healing, his father told him.
The first few sessions were the most difficult. Bash was not used to opening up and divulging in his feelings, especially to complete strangers but Dr. Sanders proved to be a very good therapist for him. She was an unbiased party that allowed Bash to say what he feels and what he thinks without worrying of being judged. Of course, he understands that is what a therapist is supposed to be like but when they work for your father, it can be a bit difficult. Bash worried that his father would try to coerce the doctor to tell him what is being said during the appointments. However, she assured him that no one, not even his father could convince her to break the doctor-patient confidentiality agreement she made when she took him in as a patient. This put him somewhat at ease but he still did not make it easier for her.
"How is everything at home?" She asked him once they both settled on their respective seats opposite of each other. Her clipboard was placed on her lap with a pen held ready to write while the recording device stood next to the cold pitcher of water and the empty clear glass cups on the coffee table between her and Bash like the many other sessions they have had. "Anything new since our last session?"
Bash shook his head.
"Not much has changed. I do my schoolwork and turn it in and do a bit of PT in the gym at home."
Dr. Sanders nodded as she wrote some notes on her clipboard. "How has your physical therapy been going?"
"Oh, the same as the last session...and the one before that...and before that." he told her as he relaxed into the cushioned back of the loveseat he occupied. "He has me walk on a treadmill for a while and then walk between two balancing beams for a while but he changed it up a little and had me ride the stationary bike."
"That's wonderful!" The doctor said with a smile. "How did that go?"
"I fell trying to get my leg over the bike." Bash replied, rubbing his bum leg. "So that might not be part of my PT again. Not when it could upset Bill."
"I'm sure that isn't true and you will be able to walk properly again and everything will go back to normal.
Bash scoffed a laugh and shook his head.
"Normal." He muttered. "You know, you are the second person to tell me that everything is going to go back to being normal but the truth is, it's not."
He stood up from the sofa and staggered a bit as he did. Dr. Sanders made to get up and help him but Bash raised a hand between themselves to stop her.
"Nothing is going to be normal for me." He told her once he gained his bearings. "Normal would be me living back in San Francisco in my home with my mom, not in some ostentatious Penthouse with people I barely know. Normal is me going my high school and finishing high school with the friends I left behind."
"You're right, I should not have said that." The doctor calmly apologized to him. "Of course nothing is going to be normal again but you can't go back to that normal. What did Dr. Stephen tell you after your last visit with him?"
"He said that I am looking at the possibility of having reached my peak of recovery. Plateauing, he called it." Bash recalled the appointment. As amazing as a neurosurgeon he is, not even Dr. Stephen Strange could wholly repair the injuries he sustained. "So basically, this is as good as it's gonna get."
"I know it doesn't seem like much progress but do you remember how you were in the beginning? What they said about you?" Dr. Sanders inquired. "They said you might not walk, talk or even be you. Now look at you. Defying the odds! It might not be the progress you expect but what I see is a great deal of success. It could be a lot worse."
Bash sighed. She was right. As much as he did not want to admit it, he is a success story. Even if it is not the type of success he had hoped for. Every time he goes in for his physical therapy, he sees people going through what he does with worse injuries than him who somehow find a positive outlook on their situation.
"I just...I just hate that...that this happened to me." He said. He felt ashamed to say it but it was the truth. "I had so much going for me and all of it went away in a blink of an eye. My life. My...my mom..."
Bash had to stop. He could feel his emotions begin to overcome him and had to stop talking to compose himself. His mom was still a touchy subject for him and hated it when he had to talk about her but he knew it was an important part of these sessions.
"That's okay to feel this way, Sebastian." Dr. Sanders gave him a kind smile. "You are not alone in this matter. I have treated many patients that have felt the same way."
Bash nodded and relaxed back into the couch once again.
"I'm sorry about that." He apologized. "I...I just had another dream about my mom. Again. Even over a year, I still can't seem to get over what happened."
"It was a very traumatic experience you endured. There are many people that have difficulty trying to come to terms with their trauma." She gave him a caring smile. It must be nice for her that he was being more open today.
"What happened in the dream, Sebastian?" She asked him, sounding a little interested. "Was it similar to the others? You and your mother in the car during the storm?
Bash shook his head. He found it strange to have a recurring dream and even more so about that night but this dream was different from the other ones.
"No. This time I could not see anything. I was surrounded by pitch darkness but I could hear my mom and what she said...it did not make sense."
"What was she saying?"
Bash recalled the events of the dream, something he did not want to do but if he could talk about it to Dr. Sanders, she could find a way for him to stop having these terrible nightmares.
"She was saying things like 'I'm sorry' to me and 'Don't hurt him' to someone else but I couldn't see or hear who she was talking to. I called out to her but it was like she could not hear me. It was so strange and I've had it almost every night this week. I don't know what it means. We were in a car crash. She died on impact and I was unconscious."
"The mind is very complex and the imagination can often come up with very interesting thoughts and dreams. What about your memory? How have you been with remembering things?"
"Uh well, the long term memory has been fine. The short term memory is still a work in progress but I can remember a few new things." Bash explained to her. "Repetition and schedules really help me out and Valerie and the house staff have been really good at helping me remember things like appointments and such. It's been a real pain in the ass though, trying to remember new things and even more so about that night."
"I can imagine so." Dr. Sanders gave him a small smile. "You just have to give it time and it will come back to you."
Bash nodded in agreement but he was reluctant to do so. For months he has been at it with these sessions in the hopes of finding out why he is having these unwanted dreams and the way to deal with them is to try and find out what he cannot remember. Yet, the doctor here was telling him to be patient. He wanted to say something but she is the professional here and his father trusted her to treat him so he just has to go with it.
To be honest, he was grateful that the doctor was not forcing him to relive that night. What he does remember was not pleasant and makes him want to remain forgetful of the rest.
The rest of the hour went by pleasantly and another session was scheduled for the near future.
Leaving the office, he entered the lobby and found Roy waiting for him in one of the seats rather than in the car, much to Bash's annoyance (and amusement). Stowing away his book and tossing the remnants of his lunch in the nearby trash, Roy walked over to help him.
"How did appointments go?" Roy asked as he pushed the elevator button.
"Same, as usual." Bash sighed with a faux melancholic expression. "I am insane and crippled."
"What a travesty." Roy chuckled and walked into the elevator car as the doors opened and kept a hand in the doorway to keep them from closing while Bash walked in.
The early noon traffic made the car ride across Manhattan take longer than anticipated but the Bash and Roy made it to the next destination. Mercer Plaza, the headquarters for Mercer Industries and where Bill spends most of his time.
Mercer Industries has come a long way from its humble roots as French blacksmiths that immigrated to America and made a fortune during the civil war when they continued their practice and sold weapons for both armies. As the years went by, the then-named Mercier & Sons, changed their name to Mercer as they began to gain status and fortune and expand beyond blacksmithing to more modernized weapon manufacturing and expanded to a variety of branches from medicine to shipping and technology and even entertainment, to name just a few of the many things the company does.
Upon entering the bustling main building, Bash was greeted enthusiastically with a strong hug by his father's assistant, May Parker.
Of all the people that worked for his father at the company, May was by far his favorite. Her kind motherly nature made him feel more welcome amongst the stuffy and tightly-wound employees.
Whenever he had to go to his father's work when he was younger, it was May who looked after him. She would spend time with him, playing games or watching TV in one of the empty conference rooms with him or take him to get snacks and fast food when he did not like the fancy meals being made in the company's kitchen.
"Oh Bash! It's good to see you!" She said excitedly and gave him one last squeeze before letting him go.
"Hey May." Bash greeted her with a smile and straightened his shirt that got disheveled from the embrace. "How've you been?"
"Oh, I've been busy keeping your father's daily schedule in order." She replied as they both began to walk to the elevators in the center of the lobby like tall clear pillars.
"And Ben and Peter?"
May and her husband Ben both work at Mercer. Ben works in the building as a member of the maintenance crew.
"Ben and Peter are doing great!" May answered enthusiastically. She loved to talk about her family, especially her young nephew, Peter, who is an extraordinarily smart kid that loves science. "Ben is somewhere in the building." She waved her hand around in the air. "And Peter is doing great in school! His teachers are recommending him for AP classes but I wasn't surprised when I got the call from the school. Ben and I already knew Peter is capable of being placed in advanced classes."
"And his issue with that bully?" Bash asked her. The last time he paid a visit to the company, May mentioned that one of Peter's classmates was bullying him. Peter is a nice kid and very smart but he lacks any physical prowess which makes him easy prey. "What's his name? Blaze? Dash?"
"Flash." May sighed when she corrected him and shook her head. God, the name even sounds like it belongs to a bully. From the look on May's face, it seems like the bullying might not be over for poor Peter. "Flash Thompson. Eugene is his real name." Bash understands the name change. "And unfortunately it seems it's still going on."
"Seems?" Bash repeated the word questioningly. "Do you not know if the bullying is still happening?"
"I know the bullying is still happening." May responded somberly. "Peter comes home with dirt on his clothes and scuff marks on his face but he says it's because he is clumsy, which he can be at times but the way he answers us, it's like he's hiding the truth. And Ben and I have gone to the school to talk about it with the boys but neither of them is admitting to any bullying so the school can do nothing about it."
Bash shook his head. He understands how hard it is to deal with bullies due to dealing with his own fair share of them. His knack for investigative journalism for the school paper has often put him in hot water with the student body with most of them avoiding him for writing a story that exposed the football team as steroid users that not only cost them a winning season but also suspended some of the players and fired the coach that gave the players the drugs.
While the story had gained a lot of popularity, Bash went the complete opposite. His school focused on sports and football was at the top. When the players lost their season they took it out on him and unfortunately on those that were associated with him, leaving him with fewer friends than he cared to admit.
He can't say the jocks did not deserve to be exposed. They were a toxic bunch that felt they owned the school and bullied many of the other students as well with the faculty turning a blind eye. Before the story, Bash was practically invisible, though he occasionally tried to intervene when he saw some poor student being bullied. He couldn't stand by and let it happen like the teachers did. He just wished he had the ability to fight back or at least defend himself besides curling into a fetal position while the bullies have at him or until a teacher takes pity and stops it.
"It's a tough situation, but I know Peter will get through it." Bash said, hoping to ease May's worry for her nephew. She and Ben do not have any children of their own but after taking in Peter when his parents died, they got to fill that role and be the best parents a kid could ask for. "I can tell he's going to do great things with that brilliant mind of his."
"Ben and I think so too." May smiled sweetly at him. She and Ben are very supportive of their nephew and his scientific endeavors. "I can see him doing amazing things in the future."
The doors to the elevator slid open and the two walked into the cab. May pressed the button to the floor where Bill's office is and walked to the back of the clear glass cab to stand beside Bash.
"So, I noticed on Bill's schedule that you had a couple of appointments today." May said to him coyly as they watched the cab rise above the lobby and pass through the many floors of the Sky-scraper. "How did it go? Is there any progress?"
Bash smiled and shook his head. May Parker is certainly a nosey person but he found it amusing.
"They went fine." He told her. "As for progress, not so much. The doctors feel that this is as good as it will get for me."
Bash could see the sweet smile on her face slightly falter. Much like him and everyone else, she had high hopes that he would make a full recovery and from the progress he had made, it seemed very possible.
"Oh...oh Bash, I am so sorry." She said to him before wrapping him in another hug. May might be a mother but she certainly had the motherly nature in her. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." It was partially true but he did not want to go into full details. He did not want to talk about it at all.
"You know, this doesn't have to be a bad thing." She told him after letting him go. "But it could be the beginning of something new. Something different in your life. A change for the better. And who knows, maybe you will prove the doctors wrong again."
Bash nodded and smiled at her. He appreciated May's optimistic nature and the need to cheer people up. He would believe it if he thought it was true, that a change for the better was in store for him but he cannot see it happening. Whatever plan fate or destiny has for him, they have a pretty fucked up way of revealing it to him.
A final soft ding rang through the small cab as the elevator slowed to a gentle halt and the doors slid open to the seventy-fifth floor, commonly known as the executive floor where offices of, you guessed it, Mercer Industries executives reside.
The floor plan was spacious with white marble floors and walls with chic modern furniture in the waiting room area near the elevator.
Bash and May walked through the hallways to get to Bill's office. This floor was not particularly busy with the occasional mailman with a cart full of envelopes and packages that needed to be delivered or a fellow assistant that was working while the Executive they worked for was hard at work at a golf course with the exception of the company's CEO Bill Mercer.
After the third turn into a new hallway did they finally see his father's office.
May reached the door first and opened it for him. Bash stayed behind to wait for an approved entry. Bill might be his father but the man could be busy with clients or meetings with board members and shareholders. It was protocol for everyone to wait, even family members.
"Bill, Bash is here to see you." May announced to the man himself. By the informal way May addressed him, Bash was certain that his father was alone.
"Send him in. Thank you, May." Bash heard the familiar strong gravelly voice of his father's. It was good to know that his father managed to find time for him.
May stepped aside to allow Bash access to the office and held the door open for him until he was through and waved bye to him before closing the door behind her.
Much like the rest of the floor, Bill's office was spacious with a clean white color scheme from the white marble flooring to the pure white walls with various contemporary paintings to add a bit more color to the office. In the middle of the room, there is a small sitting area with a large square light grey rug with two leather loveseats and two individual leather chairs and a glass coffee table in between. Normally, it was empty, except for the occasional Forbes or Fortune or any other business magazine that featured Bill or his company as a way to impress possible clients, but today the coffee table also had two trays each with a plate of a delicious looking sirloin steak and a vegetable medley with a steaming baked potato on the side.
On the left of the room beside the bathroom door is a wet bar complete with a small sink and minifridge and cabinets where the glasses and drinks are stored.
Directly across the door, the floor was elevated, as if on a platform where a large contemporary styled cherry wood desk was placed with an open laptop and stacks of files piled on top with a black leather executive desk chair in front of the floor to ceiling windows that ran the length of the entire office, giving the viewers a beautiful view of the city, much like his room at home. Bash was not too fond of standing so close to the windows due to his fear of heights.
Standing from his desk, Bill Mercer smiled at his son and mouthed for him to sit down at one of the leather seats in the middle of the room while he finished talking to someone on his cellphone.
Bash limped his way to one of the loveseats and sat where one of the meals was placed.
"I know it is a big issue. He is a big person...on occasion." Bill said as he turned to face the window. "But I am not going to contribute to your manhunt. Dr. Banner is a good friend of mine—"
Bash could now hear the voice of the person on the other end of the phone and could tell it was a man and he sounded angry. He did not mean to eavesdrop on the conversation but you know, with him being in the same room and all but then he heard the name Banner and he could not help himself. The brilliant scientist was all over the news not too long ago after testing one of his experiments on himself that had an...unusual side effect of turning him into a great green raging monster that not even the military could contain. For a while, he was all over the news but after some time, it died down but apparently the man has gone into hiding and the military wants to find him.
"Look, Ross—"
"That's General Ross, Mercer!" Bash could hear the man on the other end say. More correctly, yell at his father. As in General Thaddeus Thunderbolt Ross?! Bash was impressed with the man his father was arguing with. "And if you want to keep working on the project then I suggest you learn some respect or I am going to remove you and head over to Osborn!"