Chapter Ten: Damages Done

Octavius woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, lying on the floor of a room that was pitch black. He tried to sit up, but the pounding in his skull was so intense that it knocked him back down. The next thing he had noticed was that someone had removed his sunglasses when they put him in the room, which left him hoping that his attacker wouldn't turn the lights on.

Unfortunately, that's exactly what happened. The lights flashed on, and Octavius howled at the pain, putting his hands in front of his face to block the light. He was not able to get a glimpse of the man who walked into the room next, but that voice... there was no mistaking it, or the self-righteous, cocky tone behind it.

"Doctor Otto Octavius, I presume?"

Octavius once again tried to stand up, this time managing to get to his feet. He leaned against a nearby wall, for support more than anything, and said, "You know damn well who I am, Osborn."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Osborn said, obvious sarcasm in his voice. "I forgot, you like to be called 'Doctor Octopus' now. I have trouble remembering sometimes."

"I could do without the sarcasm, thank you very much." Octavius snarled, wishing he could at least open his eyes, to see what Osborn was up to.

"And I could have done without the prison sentence that you brought upon me." Osborn said, a contemptuous tone to his voice. "I spent a year and a half in that cell, being subjected to the horror of the New York corrections system. A year and a half, spent in an asshole of a cell, my reputation ruined, because of you!"

"I didn't do anything to your so-called reputation, Osborn! Your life turning out that way was your own doing!"

"I could say the same for you. How many people have you murdered in the last week?" Osborn asked, although he probably already knew.

"Only the people you sent to assassinate me!" Octavius shot back, ignoring the pain in his head that was still so intense it threatened to floor him. "You should know better than that, Osborn! I've survived worse than this! I am notoriously hard to kill!"

"So I've heard. But that's a situation that can, and will, be fixed in a matter of hours."

"You'd better hope those lights don't go out. Because if they do, you'll be dead before you have time to realize it."

"And what do you intend on killing me with?" Osborn mocked, causing Octavius to notice that something was missing...

"What did you do with my actuators!"

"What, you didn't think I was going to lock you in here with them, did you?" Osborn said, pacing the floor. "No, they're capable of too much damage to be left with you. I still remember our last fight, all the damage they could do. I can't let you try to escape, or come after me. They're locked up."

No... I didn't plan for this! Octavius thought, dismayed, but not letting Osborn see it. He managed to open his eyes enough to at least glare at Osborn, to see what he was doing.

"We'll see how powerful you are without your instruments of destruction, Doctor. There's no chance of you getting them back." Osborn said, a cocky tone to his voice again. "Just like there appeared to be no way of me ever being released from prison. But I managed it."

I suppose this is where the antagonist launches into his self-aggrandizing monologue? Octavius thought, rolling his eyes.

It appeared that way, as Osborn continued, "I managed it by secretly keeping contact with my associates on the outside, plotting my escape discreetly, out of sight of the guards who kept watch over me. Even as I planned my escape, I managed to work on my plot against you, ordering the so-called head of the Russian Intelligence Service to abduct you so as to have you locked up when I escaped, so I wouldn't have to hunt you down."

"Wait a second... you were the man behind that plan, as well!" Octavius asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. "But they wanted me to build a bomb! They never gave any indication of another man being involved!"

"No, they wouldn't have, would they?" Osborn said, continuing. "I used them as a cover, so my role would remain hidden. Anyways, the plan was endangered when you escaped. So I sent them after your fiancée in order to draw you out. But they had her brought to Moscow. Apparently they really did want their bomb, so I worked them into my plan. They'd get their weapon, and I'd get ahold of you."

"But I was there when they abducted her!" Octavius shouted, infuriated. "Why not just take me then?"

At that, Osborn fell silent. This was apparently news to him.

"Why did you have to include my wife in all of this? Why couldn't you just let it go? Now my best friend is dead, my wife is probably out there worrying now, and we're here, still enemies after two long years!" Octavius shouted, glaring at Norman. "This is a bad cycle, Osborn! Your plan for revenge has involved too many innocent people!"

"Enough talk." Osborn said, waving off the words. "I have things now that must be done elsewhere. I'll be back later, however." He reached for the doorhandle with one hand, and reached into the pocket of his suit with the other, pulling out a small round object. "I suppose there's no need for you to remain conscious while I'm gone. Consider this a better alternative to sitting here waiting, wondering about your fate."

Octavius had a very bad feeling about what that object was, and he stumbled forward, hoping to get it away from Osborn before he activated it.

Unfortunately, Osborn was too quick, and he pressed the button on the device, throwing it to the floor as he left the room. A greenish gas spewed from the device, and Octavius looked at it, rather horrified.

He backed up against the wall, hoping to get away from it, but it spread through the room quickly, and before he knew it he had fallen to his knees on the concrete floor, clutching his throat as the gas worked its effect on him. He could see blackness at the edges of his vision, and he fought to fight off the imminent darkness.

As it was, he didn't even have time to think before he succumbed to that darkness.

xxx

Meanwhile, at Precinct Ninety-Two...

Capt. Stacy was surprised by some of the connections he had been uncovering as he went through the file he had DeWolff retrieve earlier that day. She sat in his office, listening to what he had to say.

"I don't believe this." Capt. Stacy said for about the twentieth time that day. "Apparently she's been arrested before for what appears to be illegally wiretapping certain people, most of them in her teenage years." He said, reading that section aloud. "Most of them were people who she did not like much; people who made her life difficult. She apparently used the material she learned as blackmail; if they didn't leave her alone, she'd expose them." He put his hand to his forehead. "The makings of a teenage criminal mastermind. Apparently, though, that's the only thing on her record, except..." here, his eyes went wide and his voice trailed off.

"Except what, captain?" DeWolff asked.

"...Except an altercation in her senior year of high school. She pulled a gun on another student. It says that rounds were fired, but no one was hurt. She was nearly expelled for it."

The office was silent for a moment, before another realization struck him. That day that she and Rosie came down to the station for an interview, Carolyn had knocked a giant lamp to the floor. He now remembered a course he had taken after discovering that the Russian Intelligence Service had him wiretapped for years. One of the things he learned was ideal hiding spots for listening devices...

He got up and walked over to the lamp and carefully checked underneath the base, feeling around the edge.

Then, he found it. Not much bigger than a dime, he plucked the listening device out of the lamp.

"She had us bugged, too." the Captain replied as he set the device on the table in front of DeWolff.

"For what reason?" DeWolff asked, confused herself.

"Probably so her and Rosie could get any information we had on the Octavius case." the Capt. replied. "I doubt Rosie knew about it; it doesn't seem like the sort of thing she'd let go by. But I want a search around the city. See if we can find her."

DeWolff nodded and left the room, already barking orders for officers to get ready for a search. She wasn't second-in-command for nothing, after all.

Capt. Stacy put his hand to his head, amazed at what he just found out.

This... is... impossible.

xxx

Osborn's lair, several hours later...

Osborn walked back into the room to find Octavius evidently still unconscious, lying face down on the floor where he had fallen earlier. He stood in the doorway a minute before walking over to Octavius, looking down at him.

"Otto, wake up." he said.

No response.

"Wake up!" he shouted.

Still no response.

Osborn knelt down to wake him up by force, when suddenly Octavius' hand flew up to grab Osborn by the collar of his shirt. Before Norman had time to realize what had just happened, Octavius had forced him to the ground, managing to land a few blows to Osborn's head.

"You are really testing me, Osborn!" Octavius shouted as he struck Norman again and again, the other too stunned to put up a fight. "There is only so much I can take out of you! You threatenme, you threaten my wife, you are now responsible for the death of my best friend... do you understand now that I've had it with you!"

Osborn finally managed to roll away from his attacker, getting to his feet with a black eye and a split lip. He said, "I understood that back when we first fought atop the Empire State."

"Then why do you keep interfering in my life!" Octavius shouted, getting to his feet as well, a downright frightening scowl on his face as he took a step towards Osborn, obviously intending to attack again if pushed too far.

"Revenge. Isn't that the reason you've been hunting me down?" Osborn replied, putting a handkerchief to his split lip. "If I have a vendetta against someone, I don't let it lie; I make sure it's carried out. You are probably the person I most look forward to enacting my revenge against."

"The feeling's mutual." Octavius growled. "Except that I was willing to let you live if you had not interfered in my life. You should have just let it go. Now you've ensured your destruction."

"Oh, Doctor. Do you really believe yourself capable of taking me down?" Osborn asked, the cockiness oddly lacking in his voice now. "You don't even have your instruments of destruction with you, now. You never will. They're locked up in a heavy steel box, where you'll never get to them."

Then realization dawned, and Octavius knew exactly how to escape.

He doesn't realize how strong my connection is to them... he thought. It'll take a lot more than a steel box to keep them away from me. If he'd known that, he'd have done something more drastic.

"But if you intended to kill me, why bring me here?" he asked, not really caring to hear the answer, but trying to stall for time as he searched in his mind for the connection that would grant him his freedom... and the capacity to destroy his enemy.

"Because I have no intention of killing you just yet." Osborn said, apparently on the verge of explaining the rest of his master plan. "I figure, I've been working on my plan for revenge too long to just kill you. I'm still working out the details, but maybe I'll use you as an experiment. How can mind and machine fuse together so perfectly? There's a question that probably intrigues a lot of people."

Keep talking, Osborn. Octavius thought. He was so close to finding the connection that he could almost feel it...

"Maybe I'll just keep you locked in this room forever." he continued. "Maybe I'll just change my mind and kill you later tomorrow."

Found it! He'd found the connection he was looking for, and even now, his actuators were tearing through the box that had imprisoned them...

"What time is it?" Octavius asked as the actuators drew nearer and nearer to the room.

"Nearly midnight." Osborn replied, confused at the rather pointless question. "Why?"

I think you'll appreciate this little bit of irony, Osborn.

"Midnight? Seems a bit symbolic, doesn't it?" Octavius replied as the actuators smashed through the wall, snatching Osborn up by the collar of his suit. "After all, people are usually executed at midnight."

Osborn looked down at the actuators, bewildered.

"How!" Osborn shouted, trying to pry the actuator's grip off of him. "HOW did you call them back!"

"As you said, mind and machine seamlessly fused together. I can control them, even when they're not attached to me." Octavius mocked as he smashed the overhead light, throwing the room into darkness.

Somewhere in that darkness, Osborn said, "There's no way you could have called them back like that!"

"I got them back, didn't I?" Octavius snarled, constricting Osborn with a tentacle, coiling it tighter and tighter around him. He could hear Osborn struggling for breath, while trying not to cry out in pain; even then, he didn't want Octavius to know, to take satisfaction in, the knowledge that he was hurting from the attack.

"How does it feel, knowing you're going to die?" Octavius said, a menacing edge to his voice. "To know that, in a few moments, your life will be at its end?"

The silence coming from Osborn gave him the answer he was looking for.

But just as Octavius prepared to deal the final blow, the voice of Curtis Connors spoke in his head.

"Revenge is like a poison; don't succumb to it..."

At that, he hesitated. What was Curt trying to tell him? Not to kill Osborn? But Osborn had gone too far this time! Because of him, Octavius was once again on the run from the police, and Curt had lost his life! How could he let Osborn live after what had transpired!

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to think about it.

A gunshot split the silence of the dark room, and Octavius felt a searing pain rip across his chest. He dropped Osborn out of instinct, howling in pain. He stumbled back a step, trying to locate Osborn in the darkness.

Suddenly, he was knocked to the floor as Osborn landed a flying kick, one that definitely hurt, with Osborn's enhanced strength. Struggling to get to his feet, he started swinging blindly, his tentacles thrashing wildly, in the hope that one of them would find its mark. He had to end this fight quickly.

Finally, one of the tentacles found its mark; Osborn cried out in surprise, and there was a resounding THUD as he impacted against the wall. Osborn got up and charged towards Octavius, managing to make it past the tentacles that were even then reaching for him, catching him in a flying tackle, landing a few blows himself. Octavius felt something snap in his side, and, managing to keep from crying out at the pain, snatched his enemy up by the leg and slammed him into the wall, ceiling, anything he could. He threw Osborn against the far wall, only a moment before he smelled smoke, and a dim red flickering light illuminated the room; sure signs of a fire starting somewhere in the room.

"You could have had a quick and easy death, Norman!" Octavius said, now able to see the dim outline of his enemy still struggling to get to his feet. "But now, I think I'll draw it out; make your final moments as painful as humanly possible!"

Osborn got to his feet, pulled out his pistol and fired another round. Unfortunately, this round hit its intended target as well. Octavius stumbled back another step at the impact, snatching the gun from Osborn before he could fire again, making sure to snap it in half. How he was still standing was a mystery to him; maybe it was simply the adrenaline? Maybe it was the prospect of finally being able to kill Osborn? But now he was having trouble catching his breath; that probably meant that it was a lung shot. He didn't much care to entertain that idea.

Osborn realized this as well, and he launched himself at Octavius, managing to land another kick to his chest that sent him to the floor. As Octavius glared up at him, Osborn couldn't help but brag about the victory that he assumed he already had.

"Looks like the only one dying today will be you." he mocked as the fire that had started was getting bigger. "And how satisfying that will be for me."

"I'm... not dying, Osborn." Octavius said, not yet making a move to get up, trying not to let the pain into his voice. He was really hurting by now, but he would just as soon die before letting his enemy know that.

"How can you look me in the eyes and say that?" Osborn said, surprised at his opponent's stubborn attitude. "You've got two gunshot wounds in you, and one of them will be fatal within the next fifteen minutes, if you can't get help. It's over."

"It's... not over... until I say it is!" Octavius shot back. "Even... if I die... I'm still going... to kill you first!"

"And that's the kind of attitude that is your weakness." Osborn said, laughing. "I've been waiting for this day for a long time. The day that I had you completely at my mercy."

At that, Octavius started to get to his feet and, using one actuator against the wall to steady himself, managed it. He glared over at Osborn, meeting his eyes, and said, "I... am at no one's mercy!"

Osborn took a step back and said, "Impossible! H-How can you still get up and fight in the condition you're in!"

"You know... the answer to that... better than most people..." Octavius said, trying to catch his breath. "I'm Otto Octavius. That's the only reason... that you need!"

With blinding speed, he lashed out with an actuator, slamming Osborn against the far wall. The impact cracked the bricks, and Osborn cried out, but whether it was in pain or surprise, Octavius did not know.

But before he could retaliate, Octavius had ahold of him again, throwing him across the room again as the fire encircled the room. Osborn hit the wall which, weakened by the fire, gave way, creating another hole in the wall.

My God... Osborn thought, lying on the ground, stunned. How is he still able to fight? How can he take it!

He got to his feet and jumped back through the hole, only to find that Octavius was nowhere in sight.

Did he take off? Or is he just screwing with me?

The answer to that question came a moment later, when Osborn felt something impact the side of his head, followed by the sensation of intense heat; whatever Octavius had struck him with, Osborn had caught fire.

"OH, GOD!" he shrieked, trying to put himself out, not having time to try, as Octavius snatched him up again, slamming him headfirst into the ceiling before dropping him to the floor. Osborn saw stars at the impact, and through the black at the edges of his vision, he saw Octavius standing over him, a scowl on his face.

Octavius knew he had to end this fight now; at this point, he could barely breathe, and he felt as if he could black out at any moment. And if he blacked out, he knew he would never wake up.

"It's... over, Osborn!" he said as he picked his enemy up by the back of the neck, lifting him up so he could look him in the eyes. The sound of sirens could just barely be heard in the mayhem. "You... have caused... too much... trouble... in my life... now... your life... is at its end..."

In his current terrified state, Osborn could not find the words to respond as Octavius' grip on the back of his neck tightened.

And he did not have time to realize what was happening, before the tentacle snapped his neck, and Norman Osborn fell to the floor, lifeless.

Octavius stood there, looking down at his fallen foe, barely able to stand, remaining upright out of sheer refusal to fall. Outside, the sirens were growing louder, and the fire was blazing around him.

It's over... it's finally over. he thought, unable to believe it.

He turned to walk towards the door, but the exhaustion and the extent of his injuries caught up with him, and he fell to the floor. He attempted to get back up, but when he tried to push himself upright, he fell back down.

This can't be where I meet my end! he thought as he laid there, beaten, bruised, but still the victor. But right then and there, only one thought crossed his mind.

Even if this is the end of the line for me... at least I accomplished what I set out to do.

The image of his friend crossed his mind, and this time, it wasn't a painful memory.

Curt... it's over... I've avenged you.

Then, the blackness at the edge of his vision consumed him. The last thing he heard before slipping into unconsciousness was Curt's voice speaking in his head.

Yes, you have... you most certainly have...

xxx

10 minutes later...

The fire had engulfed most of the room by the time Capt. Stacy, the FDNY, and several other officers arrived on the scene after someone across the street reported smoke coming from an upstairs window. They quickly made their way through the building, checking each room for people, before they broke the door down to the room where the fire had obviously started. They were surprised to find many holes in the walls, ones that could not have been made by the fire.

But what was even more alarming was the sight of two men lying on the floor; one was obviously dead; the other, unconscious, but in really bad shape.

The dead man was identified as Norman Osborn.

The unconscious man was identified as Doctor Otto Octavius.

Capt. Stacy did not know what to make of this situation at all.

"Briscoe, go down to the station. Get Rosie Octavius on the line. Tell her to meet me at Midtown General immediately." the Capt. said as he knelt down to look Octavius over.

How did this happen to him? the Capt. thought, shocked. I suppose that's probably a stupid question. The answer's lying across the room, on fire.

"And call an ambulance, as well!" he called after Briscoe, who had already left the room.

The Doctor's very lucky the fire didn't reach him before we got here. Capt. Stacy thought as he took a seat on the hard wood floor, watching the now smoldering remains of the building after the fire department hosed it down. But what's the chance of him making it through the night?