I do not own Spider-Man or any of the characters in the Marvel franchise, just my OC.

That peroxide girl was at his door again; she was knocking tentatively on the window to get his attention. The Goblin sighed, rolled off his bed and slowly stretched to get the kinks out of his back.

After Ginge left this morning, he'd been thinking about how their sessions could end if he didn't start actively accepting the help she offered. Of course it was ridiculous that he even needed therapy to begin with – he was strong now, the Goblin had his weakness under control. Or did he? He thought about the moment when Harry had stupidly apologised to the auburn beauty. How dare he! The Goblin had taken control because that trust-fund boy was weak; he had saved them both! It was annoying enough to have him squawking nonsense in his head but now he was trying to regain control. Maybe taking the sleeping pills would get Harry to shut up; the Goblin did need a good nights sleep.

When the Goblin was standing in front of the door, nurse Cheryl slid a panel on the adjacent wall to reveal a small letterbox shaped hole. She motioned from him to place is hands through the slot. Once they were, Cheryl dropped two small sleeping pills into his cuffed gnarled hands. He noticed how the blonde did not physically touch his palms and had even shuddered when she had seen his green fingers. The Goblin moved in front of the door again so that Cheryl could see through the glass window that he'd placed the pills into his mouth. Then it was back to the slot to receive a small paper cup of water to wash them down. Cheryl quickly passed through the cup, which the Goblin took, but not before noticing how horrid looking the nurse's hands were. They weren't as smooth or delicate as Hayley's; disgusting tacky jeweled false nails were stuck on the end of each finger.

"You know I could break your fingers if I wanted," the Goblin threatened through the glass, "but your hands are not worthy of my attention."

The peroxide blonde just stared at him before blowing a huge bubble of gum from her mouth, popping it, then noisily munching the sweet between her unnaturally white teeth. He snarled at her tackiness. God he wanted to kill her too but only because the blonde was so damn irritating. It was exhausting just looking at her.

Cheryl closed the letterbox panel and walked down the hall without even acknowledging the Goblin further. He too moved away from the door and plopped himself on his uncomfortable bed to wait for the pills to kick in.

That night, the Goblin began to dream about killing Cheryl and all the other staff at Ravencroft – it would be glorious to see them all burn and scream in pain. When they were all dead, he noticed dream Hayley standing next to him, her fingers still broken. Lifting them to his face, the Goblin instantly felt calm with her hands touching his tarnished skin.

A couple of hours after Cheryl had left, the Goblin was disturbed from his drug induced sleep by an unscheduled visitor opening his door. He doubted it was Hayley as he'd already been informed of their session the in two days time. With sleep heavy eyes, he groggily made out the shadows of two well-built males from the yellow light shining his door window. He could briefly hear noises as if someone was shouting at him.

"Get up! Come on pretty boy, get up!"

"What's wrong with him Colin? Looks like he's fucked up!"

"Probs be 'is meds. 'Es gona be fucked up in a minute!" Colin said menacingly, rubbing his knuckles together in preparation.

The guard had been waiting for Hayley to no longer be assigned the night shift so that he could round up the lads and get revenge. That Osborn kid deserved to be taught a lesson for what he did to Gillian and his boys Bill and Ernie. Plus, Colin did not like the way he seemed so interested in the ginger nurse. Harry Osborn was a monster; he'd killed a girl for Christ sake!

There was a knock on the cell door before an additional three guards entered.

"'Bout bloody time lads!"

"Sorry Big C! We had a small issue in East wing; that reptile doctor freak was kicking off again..." explained one of the new guards.

"What's wrong with Mr. Osborn?"

"That's HARRY Osborn you idiot!" shouted the Goblin incoherently – he was still having problems understanding why these people were in his room. His sleeping pills were one hell of sedative.

"Right lads, 'e's awake!" Colin chuckled, "Good. I want 'im to feel every bit o' this!"

The Goblin tried to stand but he swayed dangerously when he left the bed – he was in no position to defend himself from these thugs. This wasn't going to be fun, he thought before the world went black and the guards descended.

Other than their topics of conversation, his therapy sessions with Hayley had now become part of his daily routine, along with nightly medication from Cheryl. However, his days were extremely boring, leading the Goblin to start observing Hayley obsessively. She was a delightful enigma and easy on the eyes.

He had noticed that she tended to wear the same thing everyday; either a long-sleeved shirt or buttoned top teamed with suit trousers that appeared a few sizes too big. Her nurse's white lab coat was also too large often drowning her tiny frame. It was clear she was uncomfortable with her body, and since the Goblin knew she was scarred, it was clear that Hayley wanted to hide away from the world. She wore little colour, mainly navy, black and grey; if her hair wasn't so bright she would blend into the walls of Ravencroft. The Goblin recognized she was someone who definitely wanted to go unnoticed. She didn't seem to possess any jewellery either, a shame for a girl so beautiful to not to wear stones or jewels of equal beauty. He could see her in a long evening gown decorated with emerald jewels. Yes, green would look stunning against her pale skin.

"Green would look gorgeous on her…" Harry agreed, thinking how before his transformation green had been his favorite color.

"Weak sentimental fool!" the Goblin chastised, "Though, imagine when we do get our hands on her, she'll be wrapped in our greenness then."

"Now we're talking! She's different from those models, nowhere near as bland and exhausting - she's not complicated."

"She's interesting, very interesting."

"Talking to yourself again Goblin?" Hayley asked casually as she hurriedly entered his cell.

Sitting on her usual chair, she noticed that Harry wasn't chained and seated like normal. Instead he was resting on his bed, still cuffed, but covered in bruises. Hayley sucked in her breath sharply, horrified at his swollen face, how shades of blue and purple decorated his neck and bulbous eye. The Goblin's lip was split with dried blood covering his orange jumpsuit. She could tell by the way he was lying that he was suffering from abdominal pain; Harry Osborn looked an absolute mess.

Before she knew what she was doing, Hayley dropped her notebook and files, running forward to kneel beside her injured patient. Being close up and at eye level she could see that the wounds were recent – were they self-inflicted? He had been talking to himself before; maybe it was part of his psychosis? What if his schizophrenic tendencies where worse than she'd previously thought?

The Goblin looked slightly taken aback at Hayley's instantaneous reaction to his condition; she was looking at him as if he were half dead! He didn't look that bad did he? Not that he cared. That brute Colin could do all he wanted because as soon as the Goblin was free he would kill everyone in this wretched place. Except for Ginge. She was too fascinating to kill. He refused to stay away from her especially since she was now initiating contact with him.

He glanced at her and could see her hands were raised as if she wanted to touch him.

Strange, why would she want to do that? he thought.

The Goblin closed his eyes and tried to shift away, wanting to see her true intent.

"Please, don't. Please, let me look at you," Hayley whispered anxiously.

Silently, the Goblin opened his eyes, still a little uncertain as to what her game was. She was staring at him with a worried expression almost like she cared.

She's a nurse, the Goblin thought, of course she cares, platonically.

He looked at her kneeling beside him and realised sitting up would aid her inspection. The Goblin tried to conceal the true extent of his pain. However he hissed and clutched at his side as he carefully moved his legs over the edge of the bed. Glaring at her, he dared Hayley to say something belittling or comment on the weakness he was displaying.

And yet she did no such thing.

Cautiously, Hayley reached her hands towards the myriad of bruises covering his face. The Goblin bared his teeth and raised an eyebrow, daring his little nurse to continue; he couldn't quite believe she was going to touch him of her own free will.

Hayley snorted at his behavior. She understood that even in his weakened state, the Goblin still wanted to convey strength and power. Hayley could tell that he feared rejection, a symptom from his father's lack of love, so instead of being put off by his standoffish actions, she continued.

When her soft palm tentatively held the side of his face, the Goblin breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. This has to be a dream, he repeated in his head, this isn't real.

But upon feeling her other hand touch the sensitive skin near his black eye, he opened them, wanting visual confirmation of reality. He watched as Hayley's gaze flickered over his face inspecting the many cuts and bruises. She was assessing their severity; his eye needed ice and the cuts required cleaning and dressing.

Hayley's fingers traced his jawbone down to the Goblin's cut lip.

"Don't bite my fingers this time, okay?" she breathed.

He smirked at her words but kept silent whilst the tips of her fingers gently warmed his bottom lip with their scrutiny. The Goblin just couldn't help himself. Quickly, he darted out his tongue to taste those delicious digits. Hayley snorted again, shaking her head exasperatedly but not outwardly voicing any bother at his actions.

Next, she tenderly moved her hands to feel his neck where angry red welts blemished his already abnormal skin. It looked as if he'd been choked. The Goblin noticed the bandage still wrapped around her left hand were he'd broken her fingers. He felt a minute twinge of guilt, but instantly put it down to Harry's weak conscious infecting his mind again.

"I need to look at your side," Hayley stated nervously, removing her hands from him.

He looked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language – she could not be serious.

"Your side Goblin. Now, please," she tried once more with a bit more authority.

Christ. She was serious.

Once more, the Goblin decided to let her little game run its course, eager to see how far she'd take this. Instead of helping her, he decided that if she wanted to check his abdomen so much, then she'd have to do it herself. So the Goblin just sat still waiting on her actions. He heard Hayley muttering under her breath about how absurd he was being. It was terribly funny watching her hands fumble nervously as she began to undo the press-stud placket of his Ravencroft regulation jumpsuit; there were eight metal poppers in total before it turned into the trousers half. He noticed how Hayley only undid six before reaching to lift the hem of his white t-shirt worn underneath.

The coolness of her palm gracing his skin made the hairs on the back of his neck stand erect. He'd never known such tenderness, such kindness and understanding from a woman before. Sure Harry had slept with many girls, but that was for fun, just a good fix to pass the time as he drowned himself in alcohol. Never had a woman affected him this much. It was like she actually cared about him. No one had ever cared about him and his well-being. Of course there was Peter, but look how that turned out! Peter had made him into this monster because he didn't care if Harry lived or died. All Peter ever cared about was himself. And here was Ginge, such a fragile creature, treating him like he wasn't a monster, like he was special. She was special.

The Goblin almost didn't hear her small voice, too stuck in his own thoughts of how hungry for life she made him feel.

"How did this happen Goblin? Who did this to you?" Hayley questioned, scared of what the truth might mean.

He kept quiet, instead, staring into her worried green eyes intensely; he wasn't going to rat out Colin just yet, where was the fun in that?

Hayley gently lifted her hands from the Goblin's side, standing up before him, the moment over. "I'll be back with a First Aid kit..."

"As if you care," the Goblin bit out harshly. He cursed himself internally, damning his quick mouth for being brash when she had displayed such kindness.

If his words hurt her, he couldn't tell, for the ginger beauty walked calmly to his cell door. Before she left, Hayley turned; "You know I do."

Back at the Nurse's station, Hayley collected the First Aid kit above her desk, along with extra bandages and a small ice pack from the medical fridge. Luckily no one was around, so she was able to slip a few painkillers into her pocket. She knew there'd be endless questions, the possibility of an investigation or even more physical restraints used on the Goblin if anyone discovered this incident.

As much has Hayley wanted to know and understand how this abuse had happened, she also had to think about what was best for her patient above all else; an investigation could lead to her work with Harry being compromised and her position revoked again as his nurse and acting psychiatrist. That was an option she couldn't bare. Any other doctor would just leave him, thinking the monster deserved it whether it was self-inflicted or not. If the Goblin were further restrained or permanently in a straitjacket and padded cell, then his behavior would deteriorate with no hope for recovery. Plus Doctor Scott would take advantage of a possible schizophrenia diagnosis and probably experiment harshly on Harry. No, Hayley would have to treat her patient's psychosis and physical wounds secretly. Her work would have to be off the books.

As she rushed along the deserted corridors clutching at her medicinal objects, Hayley continued to think on why she was so determined to help Harry Osborn. Surely, as Gwen's murderer, the Goblin's recovery should be the least of Hayley's priorities. If she hadn't seen the security camera footage revealing Harry's desperation and painful transformation, then maybe she wouldn't be so quick to fulfill her Hippocratic oath so passionately. But having spent just over a year at Ravencroft, seeing corrupted doctors abuse their position, the incarcerated show no sign of rehabilitation, Hayley strived to be the most professional nurse in the facility. Besides, she could relate to aspects of Harry's experience. She may not fully understand his mind just yet, but Hayley couldn't deny that she found him fascinating. It was almost like seeing her past self before her; a damaged, unloved, unwanted broken monster. She'd be failing herself if she didn't try to help him.

When she reached Room 136, Hayley was glad to see that Colin was still on his coffee break. She was dreading trying to explain herself to him. The guard had seemed a bit distant this morning, making himself scarce soon after she arrived. There were no jokes or friendly comments just the cold shoulder treatment. Hayley suspected he was still miffed that she'd been given Harry back as a patient. And as much as she could understand Colin's over protective nature, Hayley wished he had more faith in her.

Grandma Carmichael was the only person who had believed in her abilities as an academic and a nurse.

After her parent's had died and her Grandma was awarded custody, Hayley was homeschooled due to being bullied and ostracized by her friends at the local school. Little Hayley was also experiencing PTSD and psychological trauma. After receiving counseling, Hayley become interested in psychology and human behavior; Grandma Carmichael indulged the child, hoping the attentiveness would allow Hayley some catharsis in her own issues. Hayley was a very smart child and had skipped a couple grades when she was in preschool. Now that she was homeschooled, Hayley began to excel in science and English, taking the majority of her High school exams early.

At the age of sixteen, she was sent to England and gained her qualifications as a nurse and a psychiatrist. When Hayley returned to New York three years later she become the youngest nurse to ever be hired at Ravencroft. Even with her psychiatry degree Hayley had only been employed as a nurse until three months before Harry's arrival, when Doctor Scott started to abuse her duel medical license. He had her treat patient's as a psychiatrist but did not employ her as such or up her wage. Hayley only wanted to help the inmates who suffered at the tyrannous hands of Doctor Scott, and she was too afraid of him to dispute her employment title. And even though she now had her own patients, the other doctor's still questioned her abilities because of her shy and humble nature.

I'll show them, Hayley thought, I'll show them all.

Opening the heavy metal door and juggling her medical supplies, Hayley gracelessly entered Harry's room once more. He was in the same position she had left him, sitting on the edge of his bed, now with his eyes closed. As she walked closer to him, the Goblin opened his eyes to observe her placing bandages and rubbing alcohol on the floor by his feet. Hayley kneeled down beside him again and began putting disinfecting gel on her hands. Once Hayley was happy that her hands were clean, minus her two dressed fingers, she took the painkillers from her pocket. She wordlessly placed two pills into the Goblin's cuffed palms and waited for him to place it in his mouth before passing him bottled water.

"Not going to feed them to me this time?" the Goblin purred after swallowing down the tablets.

"I don't trust your mouth with my fingers…" Hayley said, blushing slightly at how inappropriate their conversation sounded.

The Goblin smirked at her before handing back the water bottle. Their fingers brushed slightly which only caused Hayley's signature heat rash to brighten on her chest. He gently caressed his nurse's two injured fingers.

"Poor, poor Ginge."

"Poor me? Have you seen yourself today?"

"Have you seen yourself?" the Goblin rumbled deeply, removing his hand from hers to run his clawed fingers through a small tendril of her auburn hair.

The tension between the two was beginning to build again. He always seemed to be touching her. Maybe the constant contact was a sign of the human in him seeking comfort. Or maybe the Goblin was extremely possessive – either way it made Hayley feel uncomfortable, although she couldn't deny that her heart skipped faster with his affections.

Slowly taking his hand away from her hair, Hayley held both his hands once again, looking into his eyes pleadingly. "Please let me treat your wounds Goblin," she whispered.

With a roll of his piercing eyes and a huge sigh the Goblin gave in and allowed her to clean the blood from his face. He continued to sit quietly, still as possible but all the while stealing quick glances at her face. Fortunately for Hayley, the Goblin's wounds were only shallow and did not require stitches. All that was needed was just a quick wash with sterile alcohol and a few plasters. Hayley completed her task quickly but methodically before focusing on his bruised side.

"There isn't much I can do about your eye other than ice it, the swelling should go down in a couple of days. The painkillers will help," she told him honestly.

Hayley was slightly dreading having to inspect his side again; she was going to have to touch him more intimately, press around the area to assess any permanent damage to the bones underneath. Ideally, an X-ray would be necessary, however Hayley knew that to suggest it to the doctors or Harry would be futile.

"Would you mind lifting your shirt? I need to look at your side again."

"Tut, if you must," the Goblin replied nonchalantly, feigning indifference when in fact he couldn't wait to feel her touch again… "OW!" He quickly grabbed her hands squeezing them in anger. "Don't test my patience Ginge!"

"What if you've broken a rib?"

"I'm fine."

"I only want what's best for you… as, er, as your nurse, of course," she spoke hurriedly.

Catching his glaring eyes, Hayley engaged in another staring contest, a battle of wills. Would he give in and let her do her job? Or was he too stubborn to show any weakness?

"Of course." Releasing her hands, the Goblin pulled his shirt down.

Obviously Hayley wasn't going to win this one. She was surprised however when he reached down to her feet and grabbed the small ice pack she had brought. Giving her look that simply said 'Don't push it', Hayley returned to her seat while the Goblin placed the cold compress underneath his shirt.

"I don't want to tire you out, but do you think you'd be up for a colour word association exercise?" Hayley didn't want to push him, especially after his ordeal, but this was a therapy session and they had yet to talk properly.

With a small nod of approval from him, Hayley began to go down the list of colours she had written in her notebook;

"Purple?"

"Bruise," he said with a small smile.

"Grey?"

"Ravencroft."

"Black?"

"Coffee." He chuckled lightly as Hayley made a disgusted face at his preferred choice of beverage.

"White?"

"Innocence," came a smooth voice, very different from the Goblin's distinctive deep rumbling tone.

Hayley tried not to give a reaction to the voice change. "Yellow?"

"Blondes." When Hayley looked at him questioningly, he continued, "They're so exhausting."

She smiled to herself, noting down that the old Harry seemed to be easing through the cracks.

"They're heavy too," the Goblin grinned wickedly, causing Hayley's own smile to vanish when she realized he was referring to Gwen. Perhaps Harry wasn't coming back just yet.

"Blue?"

"Electricity."

"Green?"

"Monster."

Obviously referring to himself, Hayley thought, slightly predictable but understandable.

"Red?"

"Spider-Man!" he said with venom.

She hadn't considered the masked hero as an option; normally patients chose love or blood, or her own personal choice, fire. The Goblin seemed to have a few issues with the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Maybe he was experience PTSD from their fight. That could be one possibility of how the Goblin had become injured; violent night terrors induced by PTSD. Writing down her thoughts, Hayley continued with the last color association word.

"Orange?"

"You."

"Me?" Hayley squeaked in surprise.

"Well, I don't see anyone else in my room with orange hair, do you? Hmmm?"

She was blushing again; Hayley could feel the heat radiating from her chest and had noticed the Goblin staring at her hungrily. He really needed to stop paying her compliments because it was starting to interfere with their professional relationship, well what was left of it anyway. Maybe it was just the smooth and suave Harry Osborn breaking through. Since Hayley had never known his personality before the Goblin transformation had altered him, she couldn't be sure that all the compliments weren't his playboy inclinations resurfacing. She'd have to try and ignore his comments for now, ignore the way the butterflies in her stomach fluttered when he spoke, and ignore how when he looked at her, she felt like she wasn't alone anymore.

"Don't space out on me Ginge; it's just you and me." Licking his lips the Goblin continued to stare at her, "So did I pass your little colour exam?"

"I, er, it wasn't really a test."

"Or did you just want to know my preference?"

"What preference?" Now Hayley was really confused.

"Well, you already know I find blondes exhausting, and if you'd said brown, you'd know I find them boring. That only leaves you," Harry remarked smoothly.

"I'm sorry, that leaves me what?"

The Goblin looked at her like she was stupid. "Leaves you – a ginger. Redheads are so rare, especially copper colour like yours… that means you are special."

"You're green, so I think that makes you pretty special too," Hayley joked, trying to lighten the mood and divert the conversation off her.

He smiled, noticing how his flirting was making her nervous. "I guess it does make me special. Very special indeed."

Hayley entered her apartment, exhausted. She'd taken a short detour after work to visit Gwen and had put fresh pink hydrangeas on her grave. Pink wasn't Gwen or Hayley's favorite colour but they'd always joked how their My Little Pony toys were the exact opposite of their personalities; Hayley loved black and Gwen had adored blue, their pony toys however were powder pink and cream. They'd been giving each other pink hued flowers and girly joke presents ever since.

She was about to close her front door when her landlord, Mr. Boothroyd, coughed to catch her attention. Her landlord was in his late fifties and had always been kind to her, even before her Grandma had died. However, he rarely left the basement of the apartment block in which he lived, so to see him probably meant she was in trouble.

"Hi Mr. Boothroyd," Hayley smiled pleasantly, "Haven't seen you in a while, how have you been?"

"Hayley dear, I've come about the rent."

Mr. Boothroyd was not one for small talk, always direct and to the point, which was one of the reasons Hayley liked him so much. She had been dreading seeing him since the month's end, knowing that her latest rent cheque would most likely bounce. Being two months late was unforgivable and Mr. Boothroyd would only tolerate one month of no pay.

"Oh, has the money not gone in?" she shifted nervously trying to play dumb to the problem at hand.

"It hasn't love. I'm sorry but I have bills to pay too."

"I know, but I've got a meeting tomorrow at work," Hayley lied, "I've been promoted since I'm now working with a high priority patient, so, my pay will increase."

Mr Boothroyd nodded, oblivious to her lies. He cared about the young girl and only wanted her to succeed in her line of work – she deserved a happy life.

"Would I be able to pay you in two weeks? The extra pay will be through then," said Hayley, feeling relieved when her landlord nodded and began to walk away from her apartment.

Quickly shutting the door behind her, Hayley leaned against it, sinking down to the floor. She tried not to cry but could feel tears prickling in her eyes. When they threatened to spill down her cheeks, Hayley rubbed away the tears, wishing desperately that the lie she'd told Mr. Boothroyd could be true.

She'd always been poor. Even though her Grandma had used her own savings to send Hayley to England for education, they'd always struggled for money. It was worse now that she had to pay her own bills and rent. It was at times like this that Hayley craved to be rich like Harry Osborn; money was necessary for survival and not to be taken for granted like the playboy millionaire did.

Sobbing into her hands, Hayley could no longer contain her fear and worries about the future. She crawled towards her handbag that she'd dropped on the floor. Slipping her hand inside, Hayley removed a box of pills, popping three into her mouth, more than the recommended dose. She only wanted to the numb the pain for a little while - she wasn't a suicidal person. After taking a few sips from the water bottle in her bag, Hayley moved to lie on the sofa, hoping that in a drug induced sleep, she would be able to find peace.

Sorry I haven't updated in a week; I really wanted this chapter to be extra long. I also just moved back home from University so it's been a busy time.

Not too sure if I've ever established Hayley's age: she is 21 and Harry is 20 like in the film.

I love you all my beautiful readers and reviewers! I literally go fangirl hysterical when I get a message on my dashboard!