A/N: Oh yeah, Harry is going to fight himself. Will he win or will the Goblin win? I guess you'll just have to find out. R&R. Enjoy!

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For the first time in a long time, Harry was finally thinking clearly, rationally. It was as though he had been kept in the dark and was now finally seeing the light. Everything that had transpired since he had returned to New York City – even before that, when his symptoms had first appeared as a matter of fact – he could see it all so clearly. There was nothing poisonous in his system now; no alcohol, no spider venom, no Goblin. Harry was just himself now, just Harry, but the memories were still there. All that he had said and done was still there, still in his mind and in his heart, but he could think clearly.

Harry had been a mad man.

Well, perhaps not mad exactly, but he had been acting out of hatred and fear. Hatred of his father, of being cast aside, of being treated like a criminal by his father and his company's board, and his hatred of Peter. Fear of dying, of deteriorating like his father, of losing his mind and himself, of being alone, and of ruining everything, like his relationship with Peter.

But Harry could see now, and he saw what Peter had been doing. Peter may not have been willing to give Harry his blood outright – and his reasons for doing so were reasonable and logical; who knew what could have happened if Peter had handed over his blood, especially when Harry had no clue what exactly he was doing? – but he had been working on a cure. Peter and Gwen had been working on a cure, on the very thing Harry had asked for.

Gwen…

Harry had killed Gwen, one of Peter's best friends. He was responsible for killing his soul mate's friend. That very thought damn near made him sick. Actually, he did feel sick; his stomach was churning and toiling and he felt nauseated.

He had also killed Menken, and although Harry had never liked the guy, he couldn't believe he had done so. Harry wasn't a murderer; that wasn't who he was. Yet, that was what he had become and it made him sick.

And Harry had pinned everything he had done on Peter, on his soul mate. As rare as they were, how could Harry do that? Regardless of how common or rare soul mated pairs were, how could he have done that to Peter, the only friend he had ever had, the only family he had ever had? All that he had done he forced upon Peter's shoulders and as a result, Peter gave up on being Spider Man and had rushed to finish the cure that he and Gwen had started, which Harry foolishly took even though it wasn't completed.

Now, he was here, wherever 'here' was, surrounded by darkness, in an arena full of darkness, and was standing against the Goblin. The Goblin, who was the physical embodiment of Harry's hatred, rage, and fear. And they were fighting.

Only one could win.

Only one would win.

Harry.

Or the Goblin.

"You're too distracted!" the Goblin cried and he punched Harry hard in the stomach. Gasping, Harry fell to the ground, clutching his stomach.

He barely managed to avoid the next blow by rolling to the side. The Goblin's fist slammed into the ground and Harry could see the contours of broken ground, darkness with darkness.

"You really think you can beat me?" the Goblin sneered at him. Harry managed to stand up and block another blow, this time to his head. He hadn't had to use any of his self-defense training before and now he had wished he had kept up with it.

"I…have to," Harry ground out and he swung his fist towards the Goblin's face. His punch was dodged and the Goblin countered with his own, nailing Harry in the jaw.

"You won't," the Goblin said, smiling wickedly, menacingly. "You're too weak, too pathetic. I'm stronger."

A punch to the stomach again. Harry fell to his hands and knees, gasping and panting in pain, his vision blurring.

"Smarter."

A kick to the stomach and Harry fell to the side, eyes screwed tight in pain.

"Superior."

Another kick.

"Better."

Harry couldn't give up. He refused. Osborns didn't give up or surrender. They fought, they survived, they persevered, they came out on top always. Defeat was shameful and humiliating, two words that weren't in an Osborn's vocabulary. No, they fought to the end even if the end meant their own death. There was nothing to fear except himself. He was his own greatest enemy. Losing wasn't an option.

Suddenly, Harry felt himself being pulled up and away from the darkness and the arena and the Goblin. Bright light bore down on him for a very brief second and Harry could see, in that second, that he was in a clean, white room. He couldn't hear and everything was blurry. Everything but Peter.

Peter was there, staring down at him with doe brown eyes full of worry, concern, fear, and hope. Hope for Harry, that he would be alright. Where he was and how longer he'd already been there, Harry didn't know. But what he did know was that Peter was with him and that he had hope and faith in Harry.

"Harry," Peter said, sounding so very far away even though he was right there. If Harry reached out, he could touch him, but he couldn't move.

Just as soon as the vision or whatever the hell it was had appeared, it dissipated and vanished into thin air. While it didn't make sense to Harry, it had left him feeling rejuvenated and refreshed, feeling healthy and fit and energized. The Goblin was grinning at him with sharp teeth and an air full of arrogance, pacing back and forth like a predator that had cornered its prey.

Harry was no one's prey.

"You're little disappearing act isn't going to work on me, Harry," the Goblin sneered at him. "You're going to lose. You're not going to defeat me."

"You're a cocky shit," Harry growled and he lashed out. He seemed and felt faster and stronger and his punch actually landed. It connected with the Goblin's nose and the sickening crack that Harry heard told him that it was broken.

"Argh!" the Goblin growled as he stumbled backwards. Harry continued in on him, punching him and kicking him in such rapid succession that it was almost inhuman.

"You think you're better than everyone," Harry snarled.

A dagger appeared on the darkened arena floor beside him and he picked it up. Another one materialized by the Goblin and when he reached for it, Harry attacked. He drew the dagger down and it hit the Goblin's arm, slicing him and causing him to bleed. As his blood trickled down onto the ground, Harry could vaguely feel the sting of the wounds pain, as though the Goblin were his twin and he could feel what the other felt only not as strongly. That's when he realized…

"No. You're not arrogant. You don't think you're superior than everybody else," Harry said as he stood over the Goblin, who was glaring up at him with so much hatred that it was almost palpable. "You don't think you're stronger, smarter, or better."

"I do," Harry said and as the Goblin stood up, Harry forced the dagger into his gut. The Goblin gasped and the thick wad of blood spurted from his lips and coated Harry's shirt.

"I think I'm smarter than everyone," Harry said and he withdrew the dagger and stabbed the Goblin again. Blood began pouring from his mouth slowly, coloring his lips and teeth red.

"I think I'm stronger," Harry continued and stabbed the Goblin again. The Goblin fell to his knees and gasped. His eyes looked distant and his body was trembling so much that it caused the dagger's handle in Harry's hand to vibrate.

"I'm arrogant and cocky and foolish and self-centered," Harry said and he withdrew his blade and sunk it into the Goblin's stomach one final time. He gasped and collapsed against Harry, the blood flowing from his lips coating his shirt, staining it red. And all the while, Harry could vaguely feel the pain the Goblin felt, but he knew that it was a necessary pain.

"I need to control them, to control you. And I will," Harry finished. He pulled the dagger out and threw it off into the never-ending darkness. His hands were coated with blood as was his shirt, but he knew that the Goblin wasn't dead. He wouldn't die until Harry did because he was a part of Harry and not the other way around.

"You…you can't…kill…me," the Goblin gurgled, spitting blood as he spoke.

"I know that. I don't want to. You're a part of me and you can't get rid of parts of yourself no matter how much you want to," Harry replied. "But I control you. You don't control me. You're a part of me and you always will be. That's how it is and that's how it's going to stay."

Harry now had his resolve and it wasn't going to bend or break. Not now, not ever.

The Goblin's body began to feel light and Harry watched as he began to fade away and disappear into nothing. He chuckled as he faded away and within seconds he was gone and only Harry remained. There was no more Goblin; there was just Harry.

A heavy feeling settled into Harry's chest and he knew that he had gained control of the Goblin at long last. The feeling was bitter sweet. After all, the Goblin was the embodiment of all of Harry's negativity, but at least Harry had gained control of it, of them, of him, and he could think clearly and rationally once again even with those feels inside of him.

Standing up, Harry stared into the darkness. His body felt sore and bruised and he knew that he had bruises where the Goblin's hit had landed. Moving one leg, he winced at how stiff it was and he knew that he'd be in pain for a while. However, he didn't think that that mattered too much at the moment. What did matter, though, was one thing and one thing only:

How the hell was he going to get out of this unending darkness?