A/N: I'm back. Notes at the bottom. Enjoy.

Am I a part of the cure

Or am I a part of the disease?

-Coldplay, "Clocks"

Chapter 1: Clocks

Peter

A year had come and gone. Fallen leaves, snow, dandelion tufts, and sunshine fell upon a grave I hated to visit. My fear of balancing school and Spider-Man was no problem after giving up on the latter of the two. NYU turned out to be the perfect school for me, mathematics and science classes filled my mornings and early afternoons and three times a week I had a photography class among art majors. That took off a lot of pressure to be perfect since I was taking the class for the credit, supposedly I could get a pay raise with a college credit in photography.

Spider-Man took a while to fall out of the public eye, even when he left the media was fixated on why he left. At one point there were so many interviews with children in Spider-Man attire blinking up at the cameras like orphans in a Dickens' novel that I stopped paying attention to any media. I deleted everything except my Facebook and LinkedIn, and I only kept those because at the time I was trying to get a job at The Bugle. But time went on. People moved on. A vigilante in a spandex suit wasn't front-page newsworthy anymore. I'm not sure if I ever really felt any true satisfaction in that.

What did become front-page, news headline, top story- even ET cover story- worthy was the death of Oscorp CEO and billionaire Norman Osborn. That caught my attention. It was mid afternoon, I was at a coffee shop in hopes that one of the high school baristas who had a crush on me might give a discount on my drink (he wasn't there, no discount) and I heard the news playing from someone's headphoneless laptop. CEO and founder Norman Osborn of Oscorp died yesterday at 3:47AM, but the report was released just hours ago. Norman's legal team wanted to establish an official statement regarding the cause of his death and the future of Oscorp. That official statement includes the following quotes, "Osborn was fighting a pre-existing condition known as Retroviral Hypodysplasia- an extremely rare and terminal degenerative disease. Norman knew he was reaching his end about eighteen months ago and took action to secure the future of his company. So today, we can announce that Norman's son, Harold Osborn will assume control as CEO and will inherit all powers, finances, and future actions of Oscorp.

The reporter then went on to explain exactly what all of that meant, and the person watching the news stream plugged in their headphones, so I didn't hear the rest. I didn't really need to. I packed up my things and hoped that the house wasn't swarmed with reporters.

I didn't have a car, but I had my laptop in my bag and my camera around my neck, so I could see where the guard at the gate might have drawn the wrong conclusion about me. But after five minutes I pulled out my phone and googled "Harry Osborn young" on google images and found a practically prehistoric picture of Harry and I at the same boarding camp at age eleven. When I read the the guard the caption on the image (students Harry Osborn and Peter Parker enjoying time off of class) and I showed him my student ID, he let me in. Harry's butler let me in, recognizing me and leaving to get Harry right away. The mansion was surprisingly empty. I wondered if Harry was keeping reporters and staff away of if they were just being respectful. I heard the clacking of high heels and a mumbling of voices. The high heels faded and the sound of footsteps came closer. Harry Osborn slowly stepped down the stairs, it was weird seeing him all grown up in person. I knew he'd grown over the last seven years, same as I had, but I'd only seen him in pictures until then.

"Peter?" He asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Peter Parker in the flesh."

"How- why are you here?" Harry asked.

"I figured you could use a friend." I said honestly. Harry's confused expression broke into a smile.

"Of course you did, you're the nicest person I know," he said walking down the rest of the stairs. I gave him a tight hug, I knew how his dad was with him, I wondered how many hugs Harry had gotten from strangers since his dad died. I wondered if anyone hugged him at all, which then begged the question how long it had been since anyone had hugged him period. "Don't get all sappy on me now, Parker."

"Don't flatter yourself," I said. "I haven't seen you in ages, thought I should stop by anyways."

"I almost didn't recognize you without the unibrow."

"That's some talk coming from you headgear."

"Hey, you kissed my mouth full of metal-"

"Really? We're going to bring that up? I haven't even been here for five minutes and-"

"Harry- I mean, M-Mr. Osborn?" A gentle voice asked. It belonged to a younger woman, she couldn't be more than twenty-three stepping down the stairs, the same heels clacking from before. "Should I clear your schedule for the day?"

"Yes Naveen, and it's Harry, you're younger than me which means I don't hate you." Harry said with an awkward laugh walking towards her. "I only make those I dislike call me Mr. Osborn, and they're usually older than me." Harry turned back to me. "None of them think I'm fit to run Oscorp, but Dad's will has me locked in for life." The girl gave him an almost shocked look.

"Harry-" She began.

"Naveen, I'm being very rude," Harry said cutting her off, he led her down the rest of the stairs towards me. "Peter, I'd like you to meet the lovely young lady who gets me up in the morning," he said. "Naveen, this is my good friend Peter Parker. Peter, this is Naveen Briar, my personal assistant."

"Nice you meet you." She said extending her arm to shake my hand. She was wearing gloves made of some sort of soft material, they were vintage-looking, like the type you'd see on a woman's hands in a magazine from the 50s. I shook her hand.

"Yeah, I mean- it's nice to meet you as well." I said. Naveen offered a polite smile before turning back to Harry.

"What do I have to clear to take the day off?" He asked her.

"In thirty minutes we have to interview the remaining fifteen candidates for the internship program, after that you have lunch with a reporter the Wall Street Journal is sending in for an interview. At three fifteen you have a phone conference with your CEO regarding press control with your father's death as well as the probation of Dr. Connors. Then you have a physical at five forty-five and a date who is expecting you to pick her up at eight." Naveen said with clear diction and not a single moment of hesitation. She didn't even pull out a phone or a notebook or anything. Harry smiled, and I knew I must've looked impressed.

"Isn't she amazing?" He asked stepping closer to Naveen, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder for a moment, a sort of half hug from the side. She smiled at the ground, looking at him for a second or two. "Reschedule my meeting, call off the date, have Felicia handle the phone conference- supervise her- actually, I'd like you to reschedule that as well." He said. "And I'd like you to select the interns, I trust your choices."

"You're forgetting your physical." Naveen said softly.

"Reschedule it." Harry said.

"Sir-"

"Naveen." Harry said harshly. She stared him down.

"I can come back another time..." I said awkwardly. Naveen pulled out her tablet.

"Actually," she said tapping the screen a few times. "Harry, we can make those phone calls quickly and I can set you up for your day off." Naveen showed him what she'd brought up on her tablet and Harry looked at the screen before smiling her in awe.

"She's more than a personal assistant," he said smiling at me, then back at her. "She's absolutely brilliant." Naveen's mouth turned up slightly at the corners and she looked down. "I'll be down in fifteen minutes Peter." Harry said running towards, then up the stairs.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Peter." Naveen said shaking my hand again.

"It was a pleasure for me too." I said giving her a smile before she went up the stairs after Harry.

Naveen

"Harry?" I called out.

"Already in here." He replied back. I checked the scans on my phone again. All positive, slowly healing, no new decay, no new growth. I walked into Harry's bedroom finding he'd left the bookcase wide open. I removed my gloves and set them on Harry's dresser before walking in and closing the bookcase door behind me.

"You know," I began grabbing my lab coat and putting it on. "I'm pretty sure the whole point of having a hidden lab inside your bedroom behind a cliché secret door bookcase is so that said lab remains secret. Leaving the bookcase door open destroys that whole purpose."

"Sorry doc," Harry said with a grin. I ignored it, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. It was the same one he used when trying to win the press over or when he wanted someone's number. He laid on the reclining chair, watching me. "So when do I strip?"

"Just a moment," I said pulling up the hologram screen. "I just want you to see what's happening so you understand how the drug works just in case you ever have to inject it yourself." I said dragging files and enlarging them for viewing.

"But that won't be necessary Doc, I've got you to do that and you're not going anywhere." He said sincerely; I was locked in on this job and we both knew it.

"Just in case Harry." I said after he released his light grip.

"You know, Pete hugged me when he came here, you haven't hugged me once since you started working for me." Harry commented. I ignored it. We both knew full well he didn't want any sort of affection from me. It was unnecessary and, frankly, unprofessional this early in my employment.

"It's been three weeks now, and since this is working, I think you should know what I'm putting into your body once a day," I winced at my own wording, but Harry didn't seem to notice. I lifted a clipboard I'd used the day before with all the scientific and pharmacy names for the drugs and the protiens and chemicals in each of his meciations written down. I tossed it to Harry. "That's what's going into your body." I said.

"What does it do?" Harry asked skimming his eyes over the two long lists. I turned back to the screen starting up the simulation.

"When your father had Retroviral Hypodysplasia, there wasn't a very accurate understanding of the disease, most of the doctors he was working with diagnosed it as a complication of Parkinson's, before categorizing it under it's own type of brain disease. It wasn't until Oscorp was founded that enough scientists were able to identify Retroviral Hypodysplasia as a disease with three main attacking points," I explained. Harry pressed a button in his chair, making it tip up vertically so he could see better. I zoomed in on the diagram.

"Like Parkinson's, RH causes the brain to stop producing dopamine cells at a slower rate, but usually at a younger age before gradually accelerating as you get older. Lower dopamine production attacks the spots in your brain that produce your ability to have precise and structured movements. That's what causes your tremors, stiffness, and poor motor skills. For that, you've got what's basically a jacked up anti-depressant that's working to get your dopamine levels back to normal. The second point the disease targets is your skin. My best theory was that your skin was reacting to the dopamine decreases by forming tumors on your skin- one signal triggering another even though the two have nothing in common- like faulty chips in a computer. The tumors were all benign but the appearances were out of the ordinary, as you know; leathery and almost scale-like. So the treatment for that is a selective enzyme that targets the tumors specifically by gene sequencing, it finds the skin tumors that are growing without reason and kills the cells until the return to their normal production rate. Lastly your white blood cell count is decreasing at a slow, but eventually threatening rate. For that, you've got a twice weekly shot of an Oscorp drug that we'er currently calling 0863H, it's essentially taking the signals from RH and rewriting them backwards- which basically results in a reversed effect and therefore causes the white blood cell decrease to reduce by seventy-five percent."

"I'm pretty sure you're speaking in laymen's terms, but this is still all very new and confusing." Harry said.

"That's understandable. This treatment is new for both of you and me, in receiving and administering respectively," I said. "You're tolerating it so far which is almost unbelievably lucky considering the circumstances. That's why it's absolutely crucial for you to report any side effects or concerns. Up until now these drugs have only been used in simulations and in simplified versions with HeLa cells."

"You said I'm tolerating it well, that means no negative reactions yet, but how well am I responding to the treatment?" Harry sound anxious and nervous. I turned back to the screen, pulling up the live scan of his body.

"This is you right now," I said watching the decay spots light up.

"What's that look like in comparison to-?" Harry asked. I tapped a button and another scan came up.

"This is three weeks ago when you first hired me." I said proudly. The change was significantly visible. Harry smiled wide, with his mouth open, kind of gasping, or maybe laughing.

"Incredible." He said turning to me. I returned his smile.

"Your white blood cell production is almost back to normal rate, we'll have to increase medication dosage as your HR increases in effect. Your dopamine levels were affected the most by RH, you're responding slowly but I'm working on jacking up those antidepressants even more. Your skin is responding the fastest, according to the scans and your own personal observations, you should be completely clear within a week or so."

"You must be insane," Harry said. My eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "I mean, you're a genius for starters- and they always say there's a link between insanity and genius," he explained. "But you're also insane because you could be curing seven different kinds of cancer with this research and your brain, and yet you signed a legal and binding contract and disclosure agreement and now you're stuck working as a personal doctor to the spoiled brat of a scientific billionaire- in private, nonetheless- while also taking the role of my personal assistant as a second job and a cover."

"I'm plenty happy with my choice," I said with a shrug. "It's trading one great cause for another."

"My life is not a great cause." Harry said. I closed the scan.

"That's depression talking, not you." I said. "Depression is a side effect of Retroviral Hypodisplasia in it's early stages." I opened the drawer containing the vials I needed. I loaded the first three into hypodermic needles.

"I've always had depression though, you know that." Harry said looking right into my eyes. I nodded lightly. There wasn't really much I could say. So instead I said,

"Now would be the time for you to strip."

"Right." He mumbled under his breath unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt and then rolling up his sleeves. I prepped another three needles. Harry pulled off his pants after his shoes hit the floor. I looked at him holding the first needle in front of his face.

"You know the drill, injection needles have five main points. Behind your knees, inner elbows, and the back of your neck." I said. I set each needle into its slot before locking the braces around Harry's arms and legs. My fingers brushed against his knuckles while I pointed out the button next to his palm. "As always, you push that when you're ready for injection, then I'll get your neck. Okay?"

"You got it." Harry said he pressed on the button and each needle sunk itself into his flesh. I heard him wince and I stuck the last one at a downward angle just below his hairline. I prepped the second round vials and then we went through the same process, then a third time with his last set. I disposed of the used needles and my gloves while Harry pulled his pants back up.

"So you really think you can find a cure for this?" He asked.

"I think so," I said. "Because your father knew this was genetic and we started right as symptoms began, what we're doing right now is working against this slowly with the treatment as it grows, like chemotherapy. An actual cure could be a year or two in the future though."

"In year or two?" Harry asked rolling his sleeves back down. "You say that like its a bad thing. Naveen, do you realize how amazing this is for me? You're telling me I can live with this and not constantly be in pain or anxiety. I can live like this for a year or two, it's no big deal," he continued smiling. "And when you do find a cure you're getting the credit you deserve. I meant what I said out there, you're more than just an assistant and others deserve to know.

"Thank you." I said offering a small smile.

"And you really are incredible," Harry said as I shrugged off my lab coat. He exited the room and I followed him before locking the bookcase. Harry handed me my gloves from his dresser. "So what's my curfew Doc?"

"I'll need another scan twelve hours from now, so as long as I can steal you away for fifteen minutes at ten thirty, I'm happy." I said beginning to bring up the names and numbers of those I'd need to call to cancel on my phone. I pulled on my gloves and we started to walk back downstairs.

"Who did I have a date with tonight, anyways?" He asked.

"Jessica. Um, model, European." I said thinking.

"Which part of Europe?"

"Austria, I believe."

"I don't think I was that interested in her anyways."

"You were. My first job was to fish you out of a bar when you were deadweight drunk and paid off the bouncer so you could keep talking to her," I snapped my fingers remembering something. "That reminds me, remember, you cannot drink anything alcoholic under any circumstances. I have no idea what the effects of alcohol could have on your treatment."

"No drugs either, I know," Harry said. He gave me a fake pout. "You want to ruin all my fun." I rolled my eyes at him and we reached the top of the staircase.

"Well, bring a jacket, have a good time, call me when you get home afterwards." I said.

"Of course mother." Harry mocked. I have him a smile that wasn't sincere or sarcastic, some sort of weird blank smile as he smiled at me and went down the stairs. He went into the living room were I knew he'd left his jacket on the couch after this morning's legal meeting there. I stood at the top of the stairs, awkwardly avoiding looking at Harry's friend Peter. We made eye contact for a moment and he smiled at me; the same smile I gave Harry. I don't think I made any sort of facial expression back, I just nodded and then pretended to be preoccupied with something on my tablet. That led to me actually becoming preoccupied with something on my tablet and then Harry called out,

"See you tomorrow morning Ms. Briar." Before leaving without giving me a chance so say anything.

Notes: This is WAY overdue, I know. I'm severely sorry for that, as well as any grammatical or spelling errors, I wanted to get this published as soon as I was done writing it. I can't make any promises on how much I'll update, but I'm definitely back. Expect more good things to come and I'll see you next chapter!