Spectrum ⇒ Avengers [ 1 ]

Norman

"What is this place?" I ask as the elevator doors open. I seem to be spending most of my time in elevators, these days. There are worse ways to live, I suppose.
"My father's laboratories." Harry says, pulling at his collar. "Only a few scientists work up here. The view is spectacular."

He's right. I walk over to the glass wall in awe, staring at the city skyline. I can sense that not many people come up here- there's a key code on the elevator button to gain access- 3829, not that I was intentionally looking.
"You must be used to it, though."
"I don't think I could ever be used to it," I disagree. "There's nothing like this in Ireland."
"I've never been." He joins me at the window. "What's it like?"
"Compared to America? Small." I laugh. "It rains a lot. Everyone has strange names, there are more folk legends than I could ever tell you, and there's a lot of beer."
"Sounds interesting." I lean against the glass and grin at him.
"It's beautiful. When my parents were alive, we had a little house in the middle of nowhere." I say. "Just rolling hills and sheep. It was brilliant." It's one of the only solid memories I have of them.
"I've never lived anywhere other than cities." Harry says. "I don't think dad likes silences."

"Is he okay, your dad?" I ask as subtly as I can. Translation: is he flying around in an insane Halloween costume, terrorising people?
"He's healing up. I was scared, y'know- he got really ill about a year ago. Luckily he found a cure, but..." He shrugs helplessly. "I know it's only a few broken ribs. I probably sound stupid."
"No, you don't." I say truthfully. "You have every right to be worried- I mean, you're his son."

"He doesn't act like it." He says bitterly. "He doesn't notice me, most of the time."
"I'm sure that's not true." I say uncertainly. "I'm sure he loves you very much."
"Then maybe he could have come to one of my soccer games when I was a kid. Maybe he could have read my school reports, shown up at my science fairs." I look sideways at him. "He likes Peter more than me- sorry. I'm ranting."
"Yeah, you are, but I don't mind." I promise. "I mean, you shouldn't bottle everything up."
"He's just being weird." My ears prick up. "He's always been obsessed with his work, but ever since he recovered from the sickness... It's been all he thinks about. He's desperate to make advances, all the time. Nothing's ever good enough for him, especially not me."

"Hey." I touch his shoulder. "Maybe it's just a crisis- you know, you almost die, and you start fearing how little time you've got left, or something."
"I just don't want to end up like him." Harry sighs. "Sorry. Let's talk about something else."
"Alright." I rack my brains for a moment. "What do you want to do in the future?"
"Probably take over the company." Harry says miserably. Oops. "You?"
"Uh... Write a book, but failing that, something to do with music." I say.

"You're musical?"
"Yeah. I mean, kind of- oh, you've never seen me play, have you?" I realise. He's never in Kiara's in the morning, and that's when I do my little performances. "I play the piano in Kiara's."
"I'd love to hear you."
"You'll have to get up earlier then." I tease.
He looks thoughtful. "Perhaps not." He takes my hand and pulls me through the laboratories, pushing open a door at the far end. "My father's penthouse."
I look around nervously. "Should I be in here?"
"Sure, it's fine." Harry assures me, his hand still in mine. "Come on." We turn a corner, and my mouth falls open.

The most beautiful grand piano I've ever seen stands on a small podium, in front of a window that looks over the city. The only light comes from outside, bathing the instrument in an unearthly glow.
"My mother's." Harry says softly. "She wouldn't let dad buy her jewels or expensive clothes, so he bought her this instead. She didn't get to play it much before she-" he falls silent.
I squeeze his hand. "Are you sure you want me to-"
"Yes." He breathes the word out. "It's sat silent for so long, I think it's about time someone played it."
"Alright." My hand slips from his. "Alright."