Disclaimer: All Spider-Man characters are property of Marvel. O'Connell is mine.

Author's Note: Final exams are coming up, so it might disrupt my schedule a bit. I apologize, but rest assured, this will be finished soon. So close to being done… so close… And then I can start something new to agonize over. LOL. Parts of this chapter didn't turn out right; I spent last night touching up a seven-page term paper which needed more research, writing up a long lab report, studied for a lab exam on Monday, and looking up the answers for an online quiz. All from the same class. Kill me now. Anyway, that's why this chapter's kind of short. But it does what I set out to do.

Moonlight Becomes You

Sixteen – Flesh and Bone

November 7

Harry watched from the shadows of a neighboring rooftop as Otto vanished into the Quest building. Not good. This is not good. He'd followed Spider-Man from a distance, and seemed to have successfully avoided being spotted by the bug. He'd heard the sound of battle before he arrived, and had intended to swoop in and finish off the victor. And then he'd realized just where the two foes were battling: on the roof of his greatest rival's building. He'd quickly hidden himself, wary of being spotted near what must surely be a well-guarded edifice. "Coward," his father sneered.

This time Harry ignored his father's taunts. He'd met Steven O'Connell, and knew that the man was protective of his company's secrets. He wouldn't hesitate to send armed guards after Harry – or, if Otto really was working for him, he could send the doctor after Harry.

Going after Spider-Man was out, as well. Harry had caught up in the aftermath of the fight; Spider-Man had already fled the scene, leaving only signs of a recent battle. No… he wouldn't get his revenge tonight. But this trip wasn't a total bust; he did know where Otto was hiding, and, if he planned this out right, maybe he could take down Quest as well as Otto. Because if Otto was working for Quest, then O'Connell was surely behind the sabotage that had financially destroyed OsCorp.

The list of people he had grievances with just kept growing. With any luck, he could destroy them all in one fell swoop.

XXX

It took Peter half the night to cross the city with his broken wrists. He was in agony; even his healing abilities weren't enough to staunch the bleeding. Though the shattered wrist bones hadn't pierced his skin, a dark fluid that was a mix of webbing and blood leaked from his webspinners. Any attempts to use his webbing resulted in a glob of this blood/web mixture that wasn't good for anything, and a crippling pain that almost made him pass out.

He didn't even try to make it back to his own apartment. Mary Jane's was closer, and, besides, he needed someone's help. Getting there was a nightmare of hitching rides atop vehicles going in the right direction, clinging with only his feet, and the occasional vertical climb up and over a solid wall of buildings, nearly blacking out whenever he had to use his fingertips to assist his climb.

He wanted to be furious with Dr. Octavius for doing this to him. He should make an anonymous call to the police, telling them where Octavius was… But he'd seen the fear and desperation in the scientist's eyes when they'd fought. He'd done what he had to to protect his wife, and Peter couldn't honestly say that he wouldn't have done the same thing to protect MJ or Aunt May. No, he couldn't be angry at the doctor, who had, in the end, allowed him to escape.

Peter gritted his teeth as he launched himself from the taxi cab he was riding to the side of the apartment complex where MJ lived. His feet immediately adhered, but he was forced to grab with nerveless fingers at the stone, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. Then he began his arduous climb up to the window, too hurt to even try to conceal himself from any observers below. Fortunately, it was midnight and the crowd was thinner than it would have been during the day. And his spider sense remained quiet, so there didn't seem to be anyone watching.

He wasn't exactly certain of the location of her window, but he thought it was that one directly above… didn't her bedroom overlook that billboard across the street? He hauled himself onto the window's ledge, then tentatively knocked on the glass. "MJ?" he called, his voice sounding weak, quavering. "MJ!" he screamed desperately, slamming his hands against the window. The force of the blow's bounce against the glass would have sent him flying backward if both his feet hadn't been planted on the stone. And then there was the pain, which tore a scream from his throat.

It was the scream that brought MJ running. She flung the window open, and stared down at him with startled eyes. "Peter? What are you-" He didn't wait for an invitation; he pushed past her and into the room's dark interior. Mary Jane quickly shut the window and closed the drapes before she turned on the lamp. "What's wrong? Oh my God!" she gasped when Peter pulled off the gloves and revealed the bruised skin, with jagged, upraised edges where the bones pushed against the flesh. "Peter, you need to go to a hospital!"

"I can't!" he gasped. "If I go as Spider-Man, they'd tell the police I was there, and if I go as Peter Parker, they'll wonder why I have… this in my wrists!" He held up his wrists so she could see the bloody webbing leaking from the spinnerets. "Just bandage them up… I'll heal."

She didn't look as if she believed him, but she obeyed. She left, and came back with a roll of gauze and a wooden ruler, which she snapped in half. "Support," she said by way of explanation. She began to wind the roll around Peter's wrist, pausing to place a ruler half under his wrist to keep it straight. "You really need to see a doctor if you want this to heal straight," she whispered as she began to wind the roll around ruler and wrist, then repeated the same process with the other wrist.

Peter just grunted. "What happened?" MJ asked.

"Dr. Octavius," Peter said. "Something's wrong… something's made him desperate. But he knows the truth now."

"You tried to help him, and he did this?" MJ sounded horrified. "Peter…"

"I know… but he let me go. MJ, if someone had you, and wanted to hurt you, I think I'd react the same way. I just hope he believes what I told him and does something about it before it's too late."

XXX

November 8

Dawn was coming faster than Otto would have liked. He inwardly seethed at his battered body and its need for a healing sleep; if he'd been able to get to work immediately after his battle with Spider-Man, he could have this done by now. But he'd been hurting from the blow to his shoulder, and bed had just sounded so good… And even those too few hours hadn't been enough. Otto's fingers shook as he threaded another wire into place in the broken actuator, which he carefully began to splice to the broken end after peeling back the plastic casing.

He's going to… to dissect me! That was why O'Connell hadn't let Faraday finish the job he was hired for. Why waste the money on something he wasn't going to have much longer, anyway? Otto had to get out of there. Now.

As for that other thing Spider-Man had said, Otto refused to give it any thought. It was just too preposterous to be true. He'd find a way to take Rosie out of here with him, then he'd show Peter that his wife wasn't dead.

First, though, he had to repair the actuator. And his change of plans meant he had to have it finished before Quest began business for the day. It meant he'd have to make some sacrifices in repairing the actuator. He had the sensors in place, ready to be wired, but he had no time to extract all the wires needed for movement, so he took only the wires needed for closing, with a bare minimum needed to open the pincer. It gave the pincers the problem an alligator's jaws had: When closing, the jaw muscles were extremely powerful and could crush bone. However, the muscles to open the jaw were relatively weak, which was how a gator could be subdued by a simple loop around its muzzle. The actuator would have the same problem, but it would be strong enough to hold him during a downward climb.

What worried him more, however, was the crude method of hooking the wires into place. He didn't have any way of securing the wires properly, so he'd been forced to improvise by using duct tape. It was true what they said; duct tape could fix anything.

He fixed the last wire into place, and the actuator uncoiled from his lap, its slow gyrations gaining speed when it became apparent the movement wouldn't shake the actuator apart. It snapped its pincers closed with a satisfied clack, but opening them again was a slower process. It will hold, but not forever, the actuator said. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. Otto wished he had more time to test the actuator's strength, but that time had nearly run out.

How about now? Otto stood, ignoring the pain that flared up from his shoulder. Peter hadn't held back when he'd kicked… What time is it?

7:05 AM, the actuator said, and Otto flinched. That meant that, even though the sun hadn't yet risen, O'Connell and his staff were already here, even though no one ever came to see Otto before noon. Still, as long as no one comes up to this floor to check on me… We can do this, he told the actuator.

The three remaining pumpkin bombs were sitting in his sink. He'd been hiding them, and the cannibalized parts from the upper left actuator, inside his mattress. Realizing that O'Connell probably had someone search his suite when he was in the lab, Otto had cut a slit in his mattress on the side facing the wall and had stuffed the parts and bombs inside. It hadn't been comforting to think he'd been sleeping atop something that could blow him to kingdom come…

Ready? he asked. His coat was draped over the toilet seat; it and the clothing that had been swiped by O'Connell from his home was all he was bringing. Nothing more from O'Connell… He pulled it on, letting the actuator slip through. He checked the belt that held the other three, making certain they were secure. Escaping with their weight dragging him down wouldn't be fun, but what other choice did he have?

Yes, Father. It curled over his shoulder, its sinuous black/grey/yellow body swaying with impatience. Before the three actuators had been restrained, they'd done a scan of the entire suite. It had been very solidly fortified against attacks from outside the building, or even from the hall outside the suites. However, it had a weak point: the wall which the tub rested against was shared with the suite next door, perhaps another bathroom. Though it had a steel plate like those set inside every other wall of Otto's suite, this one was riddled with holes here, where pipes had to pass through. This one could be torn apart.

Otto wasn't taking any risks; he took two of the pumpkin bombs and triggered them, backing out and shutting the bathroom door behind him. The explosion was enough to knock him off his feet, and his ears were ringing. But he couldn't let that stop him. O'Connell's men would be reacting to that explosion, and Otto needed to move now.

He flung open the bathroom door, grinning broadly when he saw the gaping whole half concealed by the settling dust from the explosion. It was narrower than he would have liked, but he squeezed through with help from the actuator, which was able to fold back a piece of metal that nearly gutted him. And then he was in the bathroom of the next suite over… It was a mirror image of his own suite, and Otto was able to quickly get to the door, which wasn't locked. He opened it and suddenly found himself in the hallway, without O'Connell, without the guards… he was free.

He'd celebrate later. Now, he had to make sure he wasn't interrupted… Otto went to the elevator, and the actuator snapped forward, pressing against the doors. It took longer than it would have had he had all four actuators, but he was warp the doors enough that they wouldn't easily open, if at all. O'Connell's men would have to find another way in… he was sure that they would, but this would buy him some time.

The door closest to the elevator, to his right, was Rosie's. Trembling, Otto paused before the door. How would she react to this unexpected invasion? Otto took a deep breath, then opened the door.

She was, as always, standing at the balcony railing. The first light of dawn had silvered the sky, softening the light pollution of the city. Her nurse wasn't in evidence, and the actuator told him there was no other living being in the suite. Why had she been left alone? "Rosie?" Otto called.

She turned to him slowly, very slowly. She moved like molasses, steadily, but seeming to take an eternity as her dull eyes widened in recognition and she shrank away from him. Otto frowned; something was wrong here. "Your wife is dead. That's not Rosie he has in there," Peter had said. "Come with me, Rosie," he said gently, as though speaking to a frightened animal. "We're leaving this place."

The edge of the sun's disk crowned the cityscape, and the first rays of the sun illuminated them. Otto shielded his eyes, even though he already wore sunglasses. Its effect on Rosie was far more shocking. She seemed to freeze as that golden glow brushed her skin, and then… something happened, something Otto's stunned mind couldn't process. Her skin became pale, as though completely bloodless. He skin dried, seeming to take on the texture of old parchment. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she slumped forward. Otto lunged forward, catching her. She was very light in his arms, more like a dried out husk than a human body. Otto carried her into the suite and set her on the couch, intending to do whatever he could to help her.

But it was clear from first glance that she was beyond help. Under the sun's rays, she looked more like a golem of sticks and paper fashioned into crude human form, a creation of dry flesh and bone… a corpse. "Your wife's something called a corpse puppet, an empty shell used to manipulate their loved ones!"

Father?

It's a trick! O'Connell's done… done… something, this can't be true…

Father!

This isn't Rosie.

There are men coming. We need to get out of here.

I'm not leaving until I find Rosie!

This is the one you call Rosie. I have scanned her, and she has the same organic composition as the woman you have been speaking with. Only… she has ceased functioning. The actuator's voice was puzzled. I do not understand; she should not have just… degraded? She should not have degraded like this.

It's not Rosie, Otto insisted. He'd seen her only a few hours ago! This dried up husk couldn't be his wife! Peter wasn't… Peter couldn't be… he couldn't be right… But he had to face the truth: What lay before him was undeniably a corpse. Rosie's corpse.

The men are attempting to pry open the elevator door. They will be here in about two minutes. Father…

He was down on his knees. Rosie! What has O'Connell done to you? He clenched his fists. I'll kill you for this, Otto thought viciously. He wanted to go down to O'Connell's office and wrap the actuator around his throat and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze…

Father, don't humans have a saying? Those who fight and run away…

…live to fight another day. The actuator was right; there was nothing he could do now, not when three of the actuators weren't functioning. Not when his body hurt so much. Not when despair threatened to sap his will to fight… his will to live… But the actuator's voice was insistent. Otto glanced back only once at his wife's still form. I'll come back for you, Otto thought. He pulled the final pumpkin bomb from his pocket, pressed the button, and hurled it into the hallway just as O'Connell's men broke through and spilled into the hall. Otto was over the balcony's rail before the bomb went off.

The actuator had firmly anchored to the stone beneath him, then lowered him to the ledge beneath the balcony. The Quest building was built with ledges beneath the windows of every storey; Otto's method of descent involved the actuator reaching down, grabbing the ledge the next storey down, then lowering Otto to the ledge beneath that. In this way, they descended two storeys at a time – made difficult by those frightening moments when the actuator released the stone, leaving Otto standing on the narrow ledge with only his own flesh-and-blood hands to keep grip the side of the building. The weight of the actuators was almost enough to pull him downward…

A spray of bullets tore up the stone to his left, and Otto glanced upward. The guards were lining the railing of the balcony above, and he knew there'd be more trying to cut him off somewhere beneath him… Faster, he hissed.

I'm trying! the actuator said, dropping him down another two levels. A window to his right was flung open, and the muzzle of a gun poked out. There was a shudder as the actuator anchored beneath him, and, rather than wait for the actuator to haul him down, Otto jumped, plunging like a stone, just as a burst of gunfire sounded somewhere above him. Otto groaned as the actuator stretched taught, yanking at his spine… and then the weight tore the pincers loose, and Otto was falling.

Not again! Otto thought as the wind whistled through his ears and brought tears to his eyes. The actuator clawed desperately at the building's stone face, trying to find a grip. Chunks of mortar flew as the pincers dug deeper, dragging furrows… and then it caught. Otto cried out as once again there was a terrible jolt at his spine. I'm sorry, the actuator said contritely.

As Otto stared down at the Quest parking lot, which still seemed very, very far below, he suddenly wondered just how he had managed to survive this long.

It was starting to look like he wouldn't survive much longer; he could see armed men below, waiting for his descent. Dammit… Somewhere above him, he heard another window above him, presumably more gunmen trying to get a decent shot. And he had no doubt they would shoot to kill; O'Connell had made it clear during their first meeting that he wouldn't hesitate to kill Otto and take the actuators from his dead body. This would be inconvenient… but in the end, O'Connell would still get what he wanted.

I can't let him win. Not after what he's done to me… to Rosie… There's got to be a way…

The truck. Otto scanned the ground below, wondering what the actuator had… seen? Was it looking through his eyes? There was a large semi truck, presumably there to make a delivery. It had completed whatever errand it had come to Quest for and was heading toward the gate leading out of the lot. It would pass directly beneath them…

Do it, Otto said. The actuator waited a second, then released. As the ground rushed up toward him, Otto hoped the actuator had timed it correctly… He hit the truck with an oomf, his fall slightly cushioned by the actuator. He'd survived worse falls, but that didn't make the impact any more comfortable… He began to roll off the side, but the actuator got a secure grip, and Otto lay flat against the surface. Guns fired, but the truck had already passed through the gate, and it was accelerating rapidly, as if to escape the chaos in the Quest Aerospace parking lot. The driver seemed unaware he'd picked up a passenger, and Otto hoped it would stay that way.

The swaying of the trailer beneath him made him feel nauseous. He would have to pick bugs out of his teeth later. His back hurt. His body hurt. But, for the moment, all that was at the back of Otto's mind as the truth sank in. He was free. He was finally free!

His triumph was short lived. His wife was dead, and apparently had been since the accident. He'd saved the life of the girl who was responsible for his wife's condition and imprisonment. And Rosie's torturer still lived…

But not for much longer. He'd get revenge on all those who had hurt his Rosie… "That woman you attacked… Lynnea… she isn't a nurse! O'Connell hired her because she reanimates the dead!"

He'd start with the one that was within his reach. He'd start with Lynnea.

To Be Continued…