Disclaimer: I only own Doctor Marco and Memory/Mary, although she doesn't physically appear in this chapter. Please don't sue me; I'm a poor high school student!

A/N: Yaaaaaay! Look, I updated! (happy dance) It took me a few to push back the writer's block, as I've been working on this chapter for literally weeks (I update faster on DA XD), but I've finally done it. And in this one, a plan is hatched and Marco realizes his favorite little toy isn't available anymore.

Angel of Darkness
Angel of Darkness
The world is in your hand
But I will fight until the end

Angel of Darkness Alex C. and Jasmin K.

Kafka had just sat back down in her chair when another visitor came storming into her office. This one, however, decided it was best to use the door instead of the window. The door flew open, and the sound of wood crashing into wood snapped the peaceful silence she had just managed to wrangle up. Without betraying any sort of emotion, she glanced over at the figure that stood in the doorway, and was forced to keep her mouth shut.

He was red in the face, icy blue eyes flashing like lightening. His hands were trembling, albeit slightly. She was lucky, though, for he was struggling to contain himself. She could not handle another visitor coming in and displaying ill thoughts to and about her patients.

"Good afternoon, Doctor Marco." The doctor said, giving him a weary smile.

Marco wasted no time with pleasantries. "Where is she?" He demanded, stepping inside her office, "I have checked with your staff, and they tell me she is missing. Kafka, I swear to God…"

"They speak the truth," she admitted, nodding, "When chaos broke out last night, she was one of the ones that managed to escape. We believe Octavius and the others took her with them."

Releasing a sigh, Marco reached up and rubbed his hand over his face. He kept his lips pressed tightly together, and Kafka could see he was mentally counting to ten. Obviously his years of psychiatric education had not gone to waste after all, despite his corrupt ideals. Once he was calm, he spoke, "Do we know if she went willingly?"

She shook her head, "No," admitted the doctor, "we don't. They left no survivors on the night shift, and the cameras were destroyed as they made their way out. For all we know, she went kicking and screaming."

"Or, just as easily, she could have gone with them with all the willingness of a sheep to the slaughter." In a move that only made her headache grow, Marco moved to take a seat, without being asked. He crossed his legs, then folded his hands in his lap. "Do we have any idea where they might have gone?"

Alarm bells rang in her head, but she pushed them away. "No. Besides, isn't finding them a job for the authorities?"

"Finding you brand of criminals, maybe. However, I am in desperate search for my little Mary. She is, after all, the foundation for the research I've been conducting for the past…oh, seven years now." Noting the surprised look in her eyes, Marco smiled lightly, "Oh, yes, I've had her for quite a while now."

"And you have yet to cure her?"

Marco raised an eyebrow, as if she had just told him that the world was flat and they were going to skateboard off the edge later that day. "Dissociative Identity Disorder is not something that can be cured, Kafka. You can make life easier to live for the victim of this disorder, but you cannot get rid of the other personalities. She has been a case study of mine for years, because of the…uniqueness of her situation." His lips curved into a light smile, "And so I would really appreciate it if we found my girl soon."

Kafka stood carefully, "I'll pass that onto the police. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I have things to deal with… Families to call and such. Perhaps if you wanted to come back later…?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "thank you, though. I need to speak to the police myself, actually, so you can go ahead and make your phone calls. Good afternoon, Kafka." And, with that, he exited her office for the second time that week.

She prayed it would be the last.

It was about twenty minutes later when Electro and Kraven arrived, both looking as if they had been run out of Hell. But they were safe, and they were there, and so Octavius decided that was all that truly mattered. He let his arms carry him over to the pair as they entered Tinkerer's lab.

"Maxwell, Kraven, so glad to see you have arrived safely. How was your trip?"

Kraven scrunched his nose, as if remembering the way they had come, "The sewers were bad on Kraven's nose, but the trip was decent. Kraven and Electro got here safely, after all."

Electro nodded, "Yeah, we were lucky. Spider-Man didn't even come after us." He sounded…almost pleased by that. As if he expected for the hero to come after them with everything he had and drag them back to the asylum. The thought amused Octavius to end, especially considering…

"That's because he came after us." Octavius replied dryly, letting his feet touch the ground. He saw Maxwell's eyes widen behind his goggles and gave a slight smirk, waving his hand as he had done with Tinkerer. "It was nothing, though: a quick, little skirmish. After all was said and done, I do believe that we came out victorious."

Seeming relieved about that statement, Maxwell relaxed. Kraven picked then to ask, "And the cub? You and Vulture are safe, I trust, but what about the cub? No harm was done to her?"

Octavius had to admit: that had not been what he was expecting. He had expected Kraven to promise vengeance of some sort onto Spider-Man for harming his "Pack Leader," or whatever ridiculous title he had given Octavius the previous day. There was genuine concern in the lion-man's eyes and voice, and that was enough to throw the doctor off. Then again, he realized upon thinking deeper, it was to be expected. Kraven wasn't a cold-hard killer, but a cat interested in protecting his pack.

"She's fine." He said, although it came out as sounding forced, with his teeth gritted. Even if Kraven was thinking of Memory as the "cub" of the pack, he still had no right to think Octavius would no protect her. He had, after all, promised to do so, and a promise was something Doctor Octopus never went back on. "However, I do believe we have more pressing issues than whether or not one little girl was hurt during an escape from Spider-Man."

"I would have to concur with you, Otto." Adrian's voice joined the conversation as the man himself strode down the stairs. He moved to join his fellow scientist, sending both of the returning men a nod, "Welcome back, gentlemen. However, there is no time for pleasantries at the moment, I'm afraid."

Although he knew there was a good reasoning behind this statement, Electro still looked confused, "What do you mean? We just got back, and already we have to go back out? What for, Doc?"

"So glad you asked, Electro." Octavius gave them a slightly malicious grin, "For you see, when I was captured by that wall-crawling arachnid," his arms flared slightly, "the police also raided my laboratory. They stole years worth of research, of my experiments. I am not interested in getting them all back, for I will admit that more a few were failures. However, I do wish to have my journals back, at least. And, of course, your cure."

That was when Electro perked up, "My…my cure?" He questioned, as if he had heard incorrectly, "Are you telling me you found a cure for me, Doc?"

"Not completely, Maxwell, but I have found several leads. Without my journals, I will be forced to restart my entire research over again. It could take another year to get back to where I was before they were stolen away."

He knew that would get Maxwell riled up, and he was right. Electricity crackled in the air, emerging for the walking generator before him. Maxwell's blue eyes flashed dangerously, and Octavius swore he heard a light bulb pop above them.

"I won't wait another year, Doc. I can't wait another year!" Begged the man, "I need this cure."

"And you'll get it." Octavius nodded, "But first, I must have my journals and experiments. Otherwise, I will be forced to start everything over again."

He didn't tell them the real reason he needed to get his journals back. They didn't need to know that he wanted to protect the secrets of his arms, his children, more than he wanted to give Electro a cure. His arms were one-of-a-kind. They were unique to him, and him alone. He had been the one to create them, to bring them to life. But if the police found the sketches of their prototype and continued to search, than they would find the diagrams, the reports. They could steal his precious work and call it their own!

He wasn't lying to Maxwell, though. He was going to work on giving him his cure, even if he didn't think that it was the brightest of ideas. After all, the powers that had been gifted to him were such that should not be thrown away lightly. However, if it was what Electro wanted, how could Octavius deny the boy who had shown him such loyalty one little request? Even if it meant he would return to being an every-day electrician, Octavius had a duty to do as he had promised.

"We'll be leaving in an hour. Get rested, get ready, and then meet back here in sixty minutes. I'll be waiting."

HFG: MWAHAHAHA! I haz updated! If you want more, then you'd better review! I may not stop writing, but I'll stop updating! ;)