Harry didn't even peek out the window of his cell, despite hearing the door opening. He already knew who it was, since his list of visitors wasn't exactly a long one.
"Time to go, Osborn."
That got Harry's attention. His head shot up to see the warden.
"Where are we going?" he asked, genuinely confused. Everything the entire team of people had done since he got to the Vault had been for the purpose of making sure he DIDN'T go anywhere, or so it had seemed.
"Some old friends of yours want to see you," the warden replied as he disabled the security protocols for Harry's cell. The man drew a gun, pointing it squarely at him. "Come on."
Harry slowly got up, making his way to the warden, who grabbed him by the arm, strapping a device around his wrist.
"Just so you don't get any ideas," the warden said, holding up a device in his hand. "Unless of course, you'd prefer to be asleep for the duration of the trip."
The man then put his gun away, more confident now that the situation was under control. He then began to lead Harry out of the room and through the hallway of the Vault. He hadn't seen anywhere outside of his cell for so long that he'd almost forgotten what they had looked like. The walls were a clear, bright white, which was such a strange contrast to his dark, gloomy cell and room. It was almost like even the places just out of his view were happier places than where he got to be.
As they continued along, the warden always keeping him in at least his peripheral vision, Harry pondered what might happen to him. He didn't have to guess who the man had been referring to when he'd said, "old friends." Anyone from Scorpion to Sandman were people he had the potential to see, but above all else, he knew Otto Octavius would be there, wherever they were going.
"Are they at least happy to see me?" Harry asked once they were in the elevator, his tone only conveying the slightest sliver of emotion. Years in isolation did that to a person, it seemed.
"Oh yes, absolutely," the warden replied. "The good doctor is especially excited to see you. He said something about a new project that he's been looking forward to showing you for a long time."
"Aww, I didn't know that he was so sentimental," Harry said.
"Well, if the amount of money he paid me for all this is any indication, you seemed to be worth a lot to him," the warden responded in a straightforward but somewhat mocking tone.
The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and they moved onto the first floor. Harry and the warden walked up to a security checkpoint near the end of the building.
"Prisoner transfer?" one of the security men asked.
"Yeah, Ravencroft's been petitioning for this one for a long time," the warden answered. "They seem to think they can rehabilitate him this time."
At that moment, Harry realized what truly awaited him.
After clearing security protocols, the warden escorted Harry out of the prison, where a vehicle was waiting for them.
"Get in," the warden said, holding out the control unit for the shock device on Harry's wrist. Reluctantly, Harry got in the back seat of the car as the warden got in the driver's seat, still holding the device in one hand.
As they started to drive off, Harry's mind began pondering his present circumstances, and the choices he'd made that had led him here. If he was honest, he'd been a spoiled brat most of his childhood, though he did not absolve his father for some of the blame, especially since, with essentially his dying breath, he'd dumped on him that he shared in the man's disease that ended up taking his life. Ever since that point, he'd just done what he needed to survive, which had led him to become a super strong psychopath that flew around on some fancy high tech glider, terrorizing the city.
Which, of course, had brought him into conflict with Peter.
He thought every day about two nights in particular. The first was when he went to face Spider-Man immediately after he'd first transformed, and the resulting confrontation inside the clock tower that led to the death of Peter's girlfriend, Gwen Stacy. Harry could still recall how dead set he was on killing both of them, possessing a bloodlust at the time that could only come from insanity mixed with extreme hatred.
The second night was the last confrontation he had with Peter prior to his incarceration. By that time, he had assembled his team, who he'd called the "Sinister Six" at the time, and they'd set out to destroy Spider-Man once and for all. They had almost succeeded too, but where they outclassed him in power, Peter had proven the superior strategist and improvisor, taking them out one at a time and even using some of their own abilities against the others.
When it had been all said and done, Peter had the chance to either kill or cure him, and even through the eyes of his mask, Harry can remember how torn he was at the time over this decision. In the end though, Peter had chosen to cure him, and ever since then, he'd wondered why. There was no reason for Peter to not just let Harry die or kill him himself, the last threads of their friendship having eroded away at that point. The choice just made no sense to him.
Harry also thought back to when Peter had come to visit the other day, looking for answers. He didn't know much at the time, but he knew that the "warden" was not who he said he was, saying that one of his former allies in particular was paying him quite well to "keep an eye on him." Even pointing Peter to that could've helped in his investigation, perhaps even leading to some answers, but no, his survival instincts ended up winning again.
The worst part was that it had done no good towards that end after all.
Harry was starting to feel that this was what he deserved. If he had just accepted his fate all those years ago, he could've made better use of the time he had left, instead of turning himself into a monster and losing the very few people that had still cared about him. Perhaps that was the true Osborn curse: to push everyone close to you away, only to die alone in a painful, miserable way.
Still, what if he actually tried just once to do something good? He was facing imminent death anyway, after Octavius showed off whatever it was he clearly wanted to gloat about, so why not? Oh, right, because if he did try anything, electricity would surge through his body until it had effectively knocked him unconscious. It wasn't exactly the best of odds.
An idea then came to Harry's mind. It was a stretch to think it would work, but he figured that, since he had nothing to lose anyway, he might as well go for it. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, making it appear as if he had dozed off.
After a while, the vehicle came to a stop, and he could hear the warden get out of the car, opening the door to the side he was on.
"Wake up, Osborn," the man said, but Harry refused to stir. He needed to wait until just the right moment.
"Osborn," the man repeated, pushing him in the arm. Harry remained limp though, only moving as much as the push against him would likely warrant if he were actually passed out.
"Get up," the man said, grabbing his arm.
Harry's eyes shot open, and he swiftly grabbed the man by his other arm, pulling him into the vehicle. He pinned one arm to the man's neck while reaching out for the device with the other one. The warden struggled to get free, but Harry's grip was unrelenting, as his legs were wrapped around the man as well, heavily restricting his movement.
Finally, he freed the control device from the man's grip, tossing it into the front of the car. The warden then grabbed at him, but Harry shoved him out of the vehicle with his legs, bursting out of it himself and lunging after the man. The two struggled at each other, each one trying to gain an advantage over the other as they fought. At one point, Harry struck him in the face, revealing a tear...that didn't produce any blood.
The warden, realizing what had happened, grabbed at his hair and pulled, slowly revealing a white helmet-looking thing of some kind that covered the man's true face.
"Looks like my secret's out," the man said in a now Russian accent, grabbing a switch knife from his pocket. "Guess what that means for you?"
The man lunged at him with the knife, but Harry grabbed at his wrist, bending the man's arm over his shoulder, causing him to drop it. He then elbowed the guy's backside hard before flipping him onto the ground. Harry then strode over him and began punching him in the face repeatedly, only relenting once he was certain the man was unconscious.
Wow, that had actually worked.
Standing to his feet, Harry looked around, making sure to get a good view of the building they were pulled up to and where they were. He then got into the car and drove off.
He had managed to give himself one last chance. Now, it was time to make the most of it.
Peter sat beside May, who was lying on her hospital bed, seemingly staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. She had been like that the whole time that he'd been over so far today as they waited for the impending arrival of the treatment, which was due anytime now. Peter had made the decision not to leave the hospital anytime between now and when the treatment was at least starting to show its results.
By now, May's ability to interact with people, or the world around her in general, was fleeting at best. Other than blinking and the occasional really, really light movement, she had hardly moved at all since he'd arrived. It was hard for Peter to see her like this, but he didn't want her to be alone. She had helped him so much by just being there for him, so he was more than willing to do the same for her now.
He hadn't really said much since he'd been there other than an initial greeting when he first got in, but Peter decided that maybe talking to her would be good.
"May," he spoke up, "listen, if you can still process what I'm saying, don't feel the need to respond. I'm just trying to talk a little so that, you know, we both don't go crazy as we wait on the treatment that's going to help you. Anyway, uh...Eddie's been texting me a lot recently, asking about how you're doing and stuff. He's a really nice guy, but he can be a bit...overzealous, maybe? I don't know, he's always enthusiastic about life. Maybe I'm just jealous, I don't know. He's been really supportive through all this though, so just know that my coworkers are routing for you too."
He paused for a moment, both to see if she might have any kind of reaction, but also because he was trying to decide what to talk about next.
"Anyway," he continued after a moment, "I had lunch with M.J. the other day. She told me about how she named her store after her mom, since she was the one who got her into fashion and everything, so that's cool. Also, when I told her about getting all the money for you, I did the most random thing: I actually kissed her. It was just on the forehead, and it was quick, but still, I haven't really known what to do with the fact that that actually happened. I don't know, there's just so much going through my head right now. Big surprise, right?"
Peter buried his face in his hands for a moment, rubbing his eyes in them, when he suddenly felt a light tap on his hand. He looked up to see that May was looking at him now, and she reached again, putting her finger to his chest.
"What?" he asked.
May then slowly brought her hands together, making a motion like she was opening something, before putting her finger back on his chest.
She was telling him to open his heart to Mary Jane.
"I want to, May," he said, "but...there's a lot I don't know. How will she react when she finds out who I am? What if something happens to her? I don't want to hurt anyone el..."
Suddenly, the doctor came in, where he motioned for Peter to step out to see him.
"Hold on, I'll be right back, okay?" he said to May before getting up and stepping out.
"What is it?" he asked the doctor.
"Peter," the man replied, "I just got a call from the people delivering the treatment. They're under attack."
Hope you all are still enjoying it!
Continuing to pray for you all; stay safe and healthy!
"So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets." Matthew 7:12