Disclaimer: Characters are property of Marvel. Lucky me, I own Lynnea and O'Connell, and that's it. Characters you all, apparently, want to kill, LOL. And after this chapter, no one is going to like O'Connell.

Author's Note: I have made the unfortunate discovery that I am ambitious and evil. Ambitious because I just realized that I've been unintentionally inserting things that could lead to a sequel to this if I ever finish this; evil because, well, I like to torture my favorite characters… Poor Otto, I bet he rues the day I went to see Spider-Man 2.

Also, I didn't mean to have this updated so quickly, but once I started this chapter, I couldn't stop. That's really amazing when you realize just how long this chapter is.

Moonlight Becomes You

Six – All Hallow's Eve

October 31 - Halloween

Otto wouldn't have thought it was possible to look even more haggard than he had when he arrived, but looking in the mirror now, the circles around his eyes had deepened, and his face was pale as death. He'd spent a sleepless night, thinking about Rosie's blank face, her complete lack of response. Once she accepted his presence, she'd acted as if he wasn't there at all. Otto was beginning to despair that their relationship would never be what it had been.

She has amnesia, and she's only seen you twice since you've been here, he chided himself. Given enough time, she'll come around. She'll come around. Or so he told himself, over and over again. The actuators had been no help in the matter; they were more confused by Rosie's reactions than Otto was, and they had kept out of Otto's tumultuous thoughts. This had the effect of making him lonelier than he had been since his high school years. In fact, when he thought about later, he realized the actuators had barely spoken to him at all since he'd arrived here, unless he questioned them directly.

Listlessly, he fixed something to eat, and went through the motions of eating without really tasting anything. He ended up putting most of it in the fridge as leftovers, having learned on the streets that he should never throw away food since he wouldn't know when he would next eat again. He was sitting on the couch, absently paging through a scientific journal without absorbing anything he was seeing, when O'Connell arrived at noon.

O'Connell took note of his appearance, but didn't comment on it. Instead he just said, "It's time to go back to work." Otto followed silently in O'Connell's wake as the man led him down to the lab where he'd been isolated the previous day. O'Connell was saying something about showing some general or other an edited version of Otto's work, and talking about how excited the man had been. Otto just nodded dully, and obediently entered the lab without being told and took a seat. O'Connell didn't lock him in right away, however; with a boldness he hadn't shown before, O'Connell leaned on the steel table, his face inches away from Otto's. The actuators twisted into a threatening formation, but Otto held them at bay.

"Snap out of it," O'Connell said coldly. "Now. I told you that your wife was suffering from some sort of mental trauma; you're a fool to think that spending an hour with her will return everything to normal." Otto bristled, and the actuators responded by coiling into striking positions. The guards at the door tensed their fingers on their triggers, but held their fire.

"You don't understand-" Otto began.

O'Connell struck him. The blow was completely unexpected and sent Otto reeling; only the actuators' quick thinking kept him from falling off the stool. They shrieked in rage, and Otto was close to giving in to their desire to tear this man to pieces, even if they wouldn't survive what came afterward.

"That's better," O'Connell smiled, as Otto glared at him, face contorted with rage. "Sulking isn't going to help your wife. In fact, it could be quite hazardous to her health. I need you thinking clearly, especially for tonight."

Otto fought down his rage, and the actuators swiveled to face him, as if they couldn't believe he was allowing this. "What's tonight?" he asked, voice trembling with the effort to sound reasonable.

"Halloween," was all O'Connell said.

XXX

The actuators were sulking, there was no other word for it. They had been since Otto had kept them from killing O'Connell outright, and now they wouldn't even talk to Otto, no matter what he did. The upper right had shown some concern for the trickle of blood running from his nose, but since the wound was far from fatal, it had joined its siblings in their silent treatment.

Alone with his thoughts, Otto turned over what had happened with O'Connell in his mind while he absently finished a problem he'd been working on the previous day. He hated to admit it, but the man was right; he was foolish for expecting miracles. Rosie's healing would take time, and there was no good letting his work suffer for it. O'Connell had made the consequences of that all too clear. But what, he wondered, was O'Connell talking about? What's going on tonight? Otto had the sinking feeling that when he found out, he wouldn't like it.

And when O'Connell arrived for him at six o'clock, Otto knew he was right. There was something about the expression on the man's face that raised his hackles. Even the actuators sensed it and hovered around their host anxiously. "I have a task for you," O'Connell said.

Here it comes… Otto had been waiting for this moment since he'd arrived; he'd doubted O'Connell wanted a super-villain solely for his scientific acumen. Sooner or later, he knew O'Connell would have him actually do something. And he doubted that something would be legal. "As you know, OsCorp confiscated everything you had on your experiments after your accident." No, he hadn't known, but he wasn't surprised. "Harry Osborn hadn't shown any interest in taking advantage of what you left him, however, giving Quest the chance to develop similar technologies. Unfortunately, we recently learned that Harry is fishing for investors interested in your experiments. When word gets out that he owns your original plans, he'll have a legal claim to your creations. And then Quest will lose its current contract with the military, as well as millions of dollars."

"What do you expect me to do about it?" Otto asked, though he had his suspicions.

"Harry Osborn is having a Halloween party tonight. He, as well most of OsCorp's executives, will be too busy partying to oversee anything, so the general staff has been given the night off, too. You know the main office building's layout, correct?"

"I've been in there a few times, yes. But Norman Osborn and I didn't get along well, so I mostly stayed out of the way." Yep. This was going exactly as Otto had expected.

"I have a spy in OsCorp. He says that there's a hard copy file on you and your work in their filing cabinets, and a digital version stored in restricted files of their computer. I need you to find both." He handed Otto a CD in a blue case, with a slip of paper with a code and what looked like a serial number written on it slipped inside. "After finding the hard copy, which should be filed under this number," O'Connell tapped the serial number, "download the digital files onto this. My spy has given me the password to OsCorp's system, with the highest level of security clearance." He gestured to the paper. "You shouldn't have any problems. Just avoid the guards, and you'll be fine. And should there be trouble…" he shrugged. "I trust you know to be discreet. Quest can not, under any circumstances, be connected with this."

"Why use me? I'm not exactly subtle," Otto said dryly. "Anything that sounds like an escapee from Jurassic Park isn't ideal for this kind of work. Why not have your spy in OsCorp do it? If he can get into restricted computer files, then downloading the plans to disk shouldn't be difficult for him."

"Ah, but you're not just copying your work; I want the plans gone completely from the OsCorp files so they can't be used before Quest patents your theories. If my spy is logged in at the time of the disappearance of the plans, then he'll be out of a job and face possible jail time. Worse, they'll be able to trace him back to us, and I can't have Quest Aerospace involved in a scandal. No, it's better that Doctor Octopus be the culprit in what must surely be an act of revenge against Harry Osborn."

An act of revenge? Otto had a sudden uneasy feeling. Retrieving plans that rightfully belonged to him could be seen as vengeance, he supposed, but there was a gleam in O'Connell's eyes that made Otto suspect the director had something nastier planned. "Let me guess; there are a few things there you feel need my 'delicate' touch," Otto said, with a glance towards the actuators.

"I wouldn't be against you smashing a thing or two while you're there," O'Connell smirked. "But this is the priority." He handed Otto another CD, this one in a clear red case. "After you download the plans, I want you to upload this. It will eliminate all records of your experiments."

"Why do I get the impression it's not quite so discriminating?" Otto asked, his throat suddenly dry. If the disk was what he thought it was…

"Oh, it will eliminate all your records. Then the virus will spread and wipe out everything else in the OsCorp mainframe."

Otto could only stare. He'd heard of industrial sabotage, but this… this was the total destruction of a rival! OsCorp might be able to recover, but it would take years, and the company was already in serious financial trouble. And they expected Otto to take the fall for it. This was as bad as anything he'd ever done under the actuator's guidance; there wouldn't be any deaths, but people would be out of jobs, reputations would be destroyed, and as for Otto himself… He may be able to excuse his previous actions as Doc Ock as something he couldn't help, but this… Harry Osborn may have been a spineless whelp, but he didn't deserve this! Otto would never forgive himself for bringing about the youth's downfall.

But, if O'Connell murdered Rosie for his failure, then how could Otto forgive himself?

XXX

Peter was surprised when Bernard let him in to Harry's home without having to flash his press pass. The old butler greeted him warmly, as if he were still a friend of the family. If only Harry would welcome him… But how could they ever be friends as long as Harry believed he had murdered Norman Osborn? Once again, Peter found himself regretting his promise not to tell Harry the truth about the Green Goblin. Would that ease their relationship, or make things worse?

No, he wouldn't dwell on that tonight. He'd just had a rough two hours doing everything from stopping opportunistic costumed criminals, to preventing high schoolers from stealing candy from little kids. This holiday always brought out the worst in people, and he was looking forward to spending a half-an-hour with Mary Jane before he went out again.

Assuming he could find her. Harry must have invited every businessperson in New York, and each of them had dragged along their family. The massive main entrance room – including the two matched staircases leading to the penthouse's upper level - was filled with people in elaborate costumes, the best money could buy. Every fang, every ancient mummy wrapping, every pelt of fur or old-fashioned costume looked real, putting to shame all the costumes Peter had ever seen in stores. He suddenly felt underdressed in his shabby suit, and almost ripped it off to reveal his Spider-Man outfit so he'd at least look like he fit in.

But there were already two Spider-Men that he could see, not a well thought out choice to wear around Harry. There was even a Doctor Octopus, with tentacles made of what looked like foam, to judge from the way they bounced while the man danced to his own tune. The sight saddened him; Dr. Octavius had been a great man. He shouldn't be remembered like this…

"Nice costume," a voice suddenly purred in his ear. "Let me guess, Clark Kent, right?"

Peter turned to face Mary Jane, who must have been watching the door to find him so quickly. She wasn't, thankfully, wearing webs as she'd threatened the previous day. She was dressed in what he recognized as her outfit from The Importance of Being Earnest, though her hair was up rather than hanging in long curls, as it had in the play. "What did you do, steal props?"

"'Borrowed,'" she corrected. "I couldn't afford anything that would fit in here, so I borrowed my outfit." She suddenly smiled mischievously. "I figured you wouldn't bring a costume, so I brought something for you." She pulled him to one of the hallways coming off the main room, ducking into an empty room, what looked like a spare bedroom, though in the dim light it was hard to tell. She had an oversize purse, and she fished in it for a moment before pulling out… a wig? Not just any wig; it was a shade of red that matched MJ's, but the strands were longer, and hung in tight curls. "This is from Earnest, too, for those nights where there's no time to do my hair."

Peter blinked, trying to figure out what she intended to do with it. She can't possibly mean to… MJ lifted the wig and placed it on his head, pinning it in place and then arranging the strands to frame his face. Peter just gaped as she then removed two rolled up socks from her bag. "Are you wearing your outfit under their?" she asked. Peter just nodded dumbly as she continued. "Good; the spandex will hold these in place." And before he could protest, she'd untucked his shirt, then parted the red-and-blue spandex at the waist and tucked the two socks just beneath the spider emblem. "There. Now you're my twin sister." She pulled him to a large mirror that decorated one wall, then burst out laughing at the expression on his face. "Did you think I was joking about the red-headed bimbo thing?" she asked. "Cheer up, Tiger, you're gorgeous!"

Peter touched his new 'breasts,' evening them out. No sense in him walking around with one higher than the other, after all. "Um, thanks?" he said uncertainly. He wondered if he should be worried that he could actually pass for a female.

"I'm so glad you came," she said softly. "It's been… uncomfortable. Harry tries to be nice to me, but too much has happened. We've been avoiding each other all night."

"I'm sorry you're stuck in the middle," Peter said sadly. "I never wanted anything like this to happen to you."

She put her finger to his lips. "This was my choice too, remember? I want to be with you." She leaned in, threw her arms around him, drew his face towards hers and kissed him. When they parted, she said, "I can deal with this. I'd just hoped that he invited me because he wanted to mend things between us, but he barely did more than say 'hi' to me and tell me to help myself to the refreshments." She sighed.

The door suddenly opened, and a man dressed as a vampire walked in, then stopped dead at the sight. Peter flushed when he realized that, in the dim light, he looked female, and MJ still had her arms around him. Peter was about to say that this wasn't what it looked like, but then MJ turned to the intruder, planted her hands on her hips, and said firmly, "Can't you see we're busy? Get outta here!"

The man fled, and MJ laughed. "Maybe we should get out of here, too, before he brings back some friends to watch."

"You're crazy, you know that?" Peter said. "You really are."

"C'mon; I've been waiting for someone to dance with," she said, dragging him in the direction of the main room.

"Because there's nothing more romantic than dancing to 'Monster Mash' or 'Thriller,'" Peter said. But he didn't resist her pull. It would give him an opportunity to snap those pictures for Jameson, and he could have fun with Mary Jane at the same time.

He just wished he didn't have to go out there dressed like a woman.

They'd been dancing for only five minutes when Harry came down the left-side staircase. Peter stopped dead at the sight of his friend, wondering if Harry had seen him. And if he had, how would he respond? Harry had proven to have no restraint at public functions when he'd slapped Peter at the planetarium; would he throw Peter out in front of all these people? Would he say why? MJ followed his gaze, her lips pursed. "It'll be okay," she whispered after a moment. "He doesn't look drunk."

She was right; for the first time in months, Harry looked completely sober. In fact, there was a confidence there that Peter hadn't seen since he'd thought he was funding a potential Nobel Prize winner. Peter hoped it meant something good was happening to his friend; if OsCorp could just come up with something to recoup their losses, then maybe Harry would pull out of his funk.

Harry hadn't seen them yet. He was making his way through the crowd, greeting friends and their family members. Peter snapped a few pictures of this, before turning his back on his friend. He didn't think he was up to speaking to Harry tonight… Don't let him see me…

"Hello, Mary Jane," a familiar voice said from behind, and Peter stiffened. Mary Jane smiled politely as Harry entered Peter's field of vision. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Very much," she said smoothly. "Have you raised a lot of money tonight?"

Harry was dressed in a set of gleaming purple wizard's robes and a pointed hat that seemed to want to droop backwards. The costume was as fake as the smile on his face. "Quite a bit," he said, with a touch of arrogance. "My father would never have done this, but I believe in giving back to the city," he said. It was a line Peter suspected Harry had come up with to make himself look good to the press. "And who's your friend?" Harry said, turning towards Peter. He stared for a moment, as if not quite believing his eyes. "Peter?" For just a moment, there was a touch of humor on his face, as the old Harry, the one who had been his friend since high school, shone through. Then a cold mask settled over it, and Peter's heart sank. So much for making amends… "What are you doing here?" he asked tonelessly. "Shouldn't you be out… you know."

"It was Mr. Jameson's idea; he wanted some pictures," Peter said softly. He decided to be very careful talking to Harry; he didn't want to do anything to provoke his friend.

"Was that outfit his idea, too?" Harry asked. He eyes Peter's chest, and again there was amusement in his eyes.

"Mary Jane's," Peter mumbled.

"I'm surprised you didn't just come as the bug," Harry said, and now his tone was dangerous. "Coming disguised as a 'friend' just isn't a very good costume."

Peter didn't know what to say to that.

"Mr. Osborn!" a voice called. Harry turned, waving at the speaker. Then he turned back to Peter. "I'm going to go speak to the mayor now. Enjoy the party, Peter." With that, he turned on his heel and threaded through the crowd.

"I think I should go," Peter said.

"Not yet; please?" MJ pleaded. "I don't really want to be here alone. Just a few more minutes?"

It was against his better judgment, but it was hard to resist. Besides, he could see it in her eyes: she'd been as unnerved by Harry as he had, and didn't want to be left alone among all these strangers with him.

XXX

Rather than let Otto run loose through the city, O'Connell had his men drive Otto to an abandoned warehouse close to OsCorp's main building. The back of the van – the only space big enough to comfortably hold Otto and the actuators – didn't have much in the way of shocks, and Otto felt every bump, jerk, and jolt of the vehicle. He hadn't known until then that he got car sick…

There were three guards, one driving, one in the passenger seat, and one seated in the back with Otto, seemingly unperturbed by the jolting of the van. The man, who'd introduced himself only as Warren, was the first guard he'd seen who was more physically imposing than he was. Warren stood about 6'4", and was all muscle. His gun also seemed to be surgically attached to his hand; he never once shifted his grip on it, even when the van had slewed wildly to avoid a flock of trick-or-treaters.

He needn't have been so tense. As long as O'Connell had Rosie, Otto was going to do his bidding, even if it left him feeling nauseous. He spent the ride trying to convince himself that, even if Harry was stupid at times, that didn't mean everyone at OsCorp was. They must have the records backed up somewhere. And surely those scientists who worked independently – as Otto had – kept their own set of notes! This would hurt OsCorp, but they'd recover. Eventually.

That didn't stop him from feeling sickened by what he was about to do.

They let him out with a warning not to let himself be seen coming back to the van. While its plates couldn't be traced back to Quest, it was better to be safe than sorry. Otto just smiled wanly and set off, leaving his guards to wait for him.

He'd only been in O'Connell's possession for two days, but Otto was relishing this bit of freedom as if he'd been confined for months. No guards, no O'Connell, and the actuators, galvanized by the thought of action, were responding beautifully. They quickly ate up the distance between the van and the fence surrounding OsCorp's perimeter, clambering over it and neatly avoiding the barbed wire at the top with ease.

With their heat vision, the actuators were able to track the movements of the guards patrolling the area. The main OsCorp building was a tall edifice, surrounded by smaller laboratories. The layout made Otto think of a mushroom surrounded by the young produced by its spores; it had that same, ring-shaped pattern, and it expanded outward whenever OsCorp had an influx of money.

These small buildings made breaking-and-entering both easier and harder; he had more places to duck around, more shadows to hide in. But it was harder to track the guards with the buildings in the way; some of them contained mysterious heat sources that obscured the heat of any humans around it.

He made it to the main complex unchallenged and began the climb up the building's exterior. The loud thwam each actuator head made as it hit the building made Otto wince, but it didn't seem to be attracting attention.

When he reached the upper level, he had the actuators scan for heat signatures. There was a guard patrolling one hallway, and Otto waited for him to move away out of earshot. Once he was gone, the actuators shattered the closest window. This high up, there were no alarms on the windows; after all, what kind of burglar could climb up a building and enter this high up?

He slipped inside, waiting to see if the noise would bring the guard running. When it seemed that all was clear, Otto slipped down the hall as silently as he could.

His first stop was the records room. There were more filing cabinets in this room than Otto had ever seen in his life, and he was glad the anonymous OsCorp spy had told him where to look.

That was when he encountered his first problem: His file was missing. Had it just been misplaced? No; O'Connell said Harry was looking for buyers. He's probably keeping the papers handy to show off. And, if they're going to save OsCorp, Harry probably wants to store them where he can keep an eye on them at all times.. He groaned inwardly. And if I wanted to keep them around, I'd put them in a personal safe. At home. Harry's paranoid enough to do it, too.

He'd worry about that later. Otto shut the filing cabinet, then headed to one of the executive offices. It had a computer terminal on the desk, and Otto quickly booted it. It took him only a few moments to type in the password and locate his data. Downloading it took longer, and the actuators began to oscillate impatiently. Then, they abruptly tensed. Father, the guard is coming!

Otto glanced at the screen: Only 75 done, and he still had to upload the virus. "C'monc'monc'mon," he muttered. 80.

The guard was getting closer; the actuators overlayed their visuals over his, giving him a 380-degree view of the heat signatures of everything around him. 90 done. Otto was tempted to just take what he had and run; after all, what did these files have that he didn't know?

100. Otto managed not to breathe a sigh of relief as he pulled out the first disk and then inserted the virus. It loaded considerably quicker, latching on to the still-open files and devouring them before its appetite for destruction drove it onward to attack the other files. He is by the broken window! A split second after their words, Otto heard a shout of alarm. He didn't know how many other guards were within hearing distance, but he knew he didn't have long before they started searching for the intruder and found him.

The virus loaded, and Otto grabbed the disk, remembering O'Connell's warning that nothing should connect him with Quest. He didn't dare leave anything behind. He slipped the disk into his pocket and searched for the nearest exit.

This wasn't one of those executive offices that boasted a great view; in fact, it was just his luck that there were no windows at all. He'd have to leave the office… The guard had been joined by at least two others, and they were searching all the offices. It would only be a matter of minutes before they found him… Otto flung the door open and sprinted down the hall, ignoring the pain the rapid movement sent up his spine. The actuators were of little use in the tight hallway except to shield him from the spray of bullets sent his way when the guards saw him.

There was another office ahead of him, a corner office. Otto took a chance that this one at least had a window and forced his way inside. He was rewarded by a spill of moonlight pouring through the unshuttered windows, and the lower actuators launched him towards it, with the upper two breaking the glass before Otto could crash into it. He fell three floors before the actuators found purchase on the side of the building, and began a rapid descent.

XXX

Peter had gotten used to the stares his dubious costume was attracting, though when Bugle reporter Ben Urich, who was covering Harry's party, had tried to cop a feel, Peter's face had blushed as red as his wig.

MJ hadn't left his side all night. In fact, he had the feeling that as soon as he was gone, she would leave, too. Harry hadn't spoken to them since, and she was visibly calming, but that wasn't going to last. What was it about their friend that had set them both on edge? It wasn't danger; his spider-sense would have picked it up if it was. Wouldn't it?

A hand closed around his shoulder, and he jumped. Mary Jane, who had been watching the crowd, turned when she felt his reaction. "Harry? What's wrong?"

Harry had somehow managed to sneak up on them unnoticed. "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice urgent. "Not here," he continued, glancing around at the crowd. "My father's den." Seeing Peter's reluctance, he continued, "Bring Mary Jane if it makes you feel safe." There was a hint of derision there, but Peter ignored it. He and MJ followed Harry to the den, which was off-limits to the party-goers and therefore the only quiet room in the house.

"I just got a call," Harry said, as soon as the door was shut behind him. "There's a robbery in progress at the main OsCorp building. Peter, I hate to ask…" He took a breath. "OsCorp can't afford another loss," he said in a rush. "I need that robbery stopped."

"You're asking for Spider-Man's help?" Peter asked, incredulous.

"That's how desperate I am," Harry said. "It pains me to have to ask-"

"Of course I'll go," Peter said. Perhaps this was what he needed to start mending his relationship with Harry. "Right away." He yanked off the wig, handing it to Mary Jane. He was already pulling off his shirt as he walked to the balcony. In moments, a red-and-blue figure was free-falling from the balcony's edge before a slender webline shot out, swinging him in an arc that would have slammed him into one of buildings with crushing force had he not shot out another line and begun arcing in another direction.

The main OsCorp building was at the city's limits; Peter just hoped he'd get there in time to make a difference. Harry was already on the edge of the abyss; it wouldn't take much more to push him completely over.

XXX

The guards patrolling the grounds were on the alert. Because the smaller buildings were too widely spaced for him to make a proper escape via rooftop, Otto was forced to continue along the ground. Only now, there were more guards than before. And they all had their guns out and were ready to shoot.

He heard the sound of tires crunching on gravel and silently swore. They'd called for reinforcements… Otto ducked into the nearest building as the vehicle passed by, taking the moment's reprieve to catch his breath.

When he was no longer gasping for air, he took a moment to examine his surroundings, looking for a place to hide. The building he'd ducked into was three stories tall, and had catwalks in lieu of floors. Enormous metal vats lined one wall, with several smaller canisters along another. Chemical formulas were stenciled on their sides, and Otto flinched when he realized what some of those vats contained. This wasn't a good place to hide-

The door opened behind him, slamming into the wall with an echoing thud. Otto lurched into motion just before a hail of bullets hit the place he'd been standing. Otto was stunned by the shooter's carelessness; what kind of idiot fired a weapon in a room full of chemicals?

The actuators carried him to the wall with the small canisters and he began to climb. He'd hoped that the gunman wouldn't shoot while he was near the volatile chemicals and, to his credit, the man didn't shoot until Otto was well above them. What neither of them counted on was the bullets that ricocheted off the actuators and into the canisters below.

When the first canister blew, Otto was on the catwalk near one of the massive vats. The guard was closer, and was thrown aside by the force of the explosion. He didn't get up. The explosion set off a chain reaction, resulting in a spectacular explosion with the force of a bomb. A bomb that happened to be located on the support structure of the catwalk… Otto was knocked off his feet, and rolled off the edge before the actuators could get a grip. They cushioned his fall, but Otto was momentarily too stunned to move.

And then, with a groan of metal, the end of the catwalk tore loose from where it was connected to the wall. The heavy structure began to bend downwards, and the weight pulled it apart where it joined with another length of catwalk. The freed piece rotated slightly as it fell, jagged edge on one end scraping the wall and tearing loose chunks of masonry. The other end tore into the vat, ripping a long gash deep enough at one point to breach the metal. Something began to pour out of it, a slow, steady stream spreading to where the canisters sat still smoldering against the wall.

All this happened in seconds; too fast for Otto to react. All he saw was the massive catwalk falling towards him, coming closer… closer… The actuators reacted faster than thought, moving Otto away from the falling debris and out of danger.

We made it! he thought numbly, forcing his shaking muscles to work and get him out of there; once the chemical from the vat came in contact with the burning canisters, the place was going to blow. He had to get out of there…

A sharp yank on his spine brought him up short, and he staggered. Before he could recover, an earsplitting scream that originated inside his head made him double over, instinctively covering his ears as if that could make a difference. One of the 'screens' in his mind projected only static, and the strength of the sending overwhelmed his own vision as the screams shattered rational thought. He didn't know how long he'd crouched on the cement floor, muscles locked and eyes staring blindly forward, but at last he was able to gather his wits together enough to plead, Stop this! Stop this or we'll die!

The scream scaled down to a bearable level, and now he could hear the anxious babble of the harmonic voices – three harmonic voices. The fourth…

The fourth actuator was crushed under several tons of metal, screaming as if in mortal agony.

To Be Continued…

First of all, I'm sorry that last bit isn't clear; action isn't my forte. Plus, it was about one thirty in the morning when I wrote it.

Y'know, music really does inspire. I have a bunch of songs saved on my computer that I listened to as I was writing this, and certain songs seemed to inspire me to do certain things. The part where O'Connell hits Otto, a part I was hesitant to include, came about while Papa Roach's 'Getting Away With Murder' was playing. And the 'Doc Ock Suite' was playing while I wrote the break-in. At the moment of writing this, Green Day's 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' is playing. Durn you, KoD, every time I hear that song now I think of the Spider-Man universe!