Featured song: Wonder – Lauren Aquilina
I do not own Marvel, The Amazing Spider-Man 2, or any character affiliated with the franchise. However, there is a scene from the movie in this chapter – I have developed it and built upon the dialogue to further cement my story within the film universe canon. I do not make any money etc. by putting this into my story and I am not promoting the film (though it is awesome), it is merely needed to aid the plot and fictional writings of a crazy moose i.e. me, the author. Enjoy.
Hayley was finding work stressful, and today had proved especially hard with her surprise introduction to Felicia Hardy. However, she knew that seeing the OsCorp assistant was an inevitability.
With the impending trial, Hayley knew that she would see many of OsCorp's employees, specifically Felicia, but had hoped that their meeting would be in a court setting. The brunette had gotten under her skin, rattled the little self-confidence she had, and Harry's account of how perfect Felicia was had only made Hayley feel worse.
So she had declined the offer of extending her shift that day. Instead, Hayley had followed her feet to find sanctuary and comfort with an old friend.
"Hey, Gwen! I know it's been a while but I could really use your help," Hayley said looking directly at her friend's gravestone before kneeling down beside it. "You'd be so proud of me today! I stopped it Gwen. This "thing" between Harry and me, is over. It can't continue anyway, now that I'm no longer treating him. So, it's probably for the best."
She nodded her head and pursed her lips, trying to convince herself that her last sentence held some truth.
Hayley continued talking, hoping that the tears that threatened to spill would be contained if she just kept talking, "He's doing fine without me, I mean he's back to normal, right? He seems to have the Goblin under control. Maybe he didn't need the pills after all. Maybe I imagined that they were helping him or I simply just wanted them to help him. Then everyone would see that I'm a good therapist that I deserve to be more at Ravencroft. Though, obviously I was wrong because he is fine. Fine! I'm truly not a good psychiatrist.
"I'm falling apart Gwen; I'm loosing myself, again. And where are you when I need you most? I'm alone now! I have no one, don't you get it? You were my friend and you abandoned me! We were meant to have plans that night, but you never showed! I was worried sick and you wouldn't return my calls, I even tried Peter, but nothing!"
She stopped, turning sharply upon hearing a twig snap and the nearby bushes rustle.
Nothing.
Hayley was alone.
Though, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Looking around again just to be certain, she locked eyes with a stone angel over by the sycamore tree a couple of yards behind her. She shook her head at her own stupidity – graveyards were creepy.
Hayley directed her attention back to Gwen's grave, ducking her head and clutching at the memorial stone with a trembling hand, "Where were you? Why were you at the OsCorp power plant anyway Gwen? It's like when you had to help make that antidote for the Lizard's attack last year – you put yourself in unnecessary danger! You can't save everyone, you know? You made me feel alive, you made me feel like me again, like the best version of me; you were my everything and now your gone. You left me! And now, now…" She stopped and tried to compose herself, "It's ironic really. I thought God had abandoned me in the fire and now I'm here confessing my sins and woes in a graveyard.
"I'm irrelevant right? That's why he's fine without me, that is why he doesn't need me, why no one ever needs me. He barely even noticed I'm gone. I'm nothing to nobody now. But, he did need me, he chose me! Out of the whole institute he chose me and then he just throws me away like everyone else!"
Hayley was growing angry now; bitterness drenched her delivery, every word dripping with distain, "You should have seen his assistant Gwen, god, she was stunning. I could never fit the bill, you know, how can I compete with that? They did something in that cell - they must have had a moment, or something. She had a hickey on her neck, you could barely miss it, shining like a bright red danger sign. It was like he wanted me to see. Like a predator marking their possession."
She looked down to her now healed fingers. They were still bandaged. Hayley was almost reluctant to remove the dressings as it reminded her of the time when he had marked her as his, in a twisted sort of way. He said she was worthy then, worthy of his attention, affection, and even his anger.
"Listen to me! Why do I even care? Like, what's wrong with me that I want to get involved with Harry Osborn. He killed you Gwen. He's a murderer. A murderer who I kissed. I'm so ashamed Gwen. But he makes me feel alive, like I'm worth something, like I matter, like I can do anything. I only want what's best for him. I'm not stupid though, I know I can't change him but I thought I was bringing out the best in him. Like he brought out the best in me.
"Maybe I am worthless, maybe I am weak. I wasn't always though. I was strong once, before…" she trailed off, looking towards part of the graveyard that she avoided like the plague. The place where her parents were buried. "And when I went to England and got my degree, I felt strong then. I wanted to change people's lives; I wanted to save them from their self-destruction. Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to him… I can't do anything to help him now.
"Was I too easy? Was that why he lost interest? Or maybe he's just ignoring me like what a child would do. It's kind of like when you're a kid and you play kiss chase in the playground. You always run from the boy you like because it's scary and he might like you too. But then he would kiss all the other girls and not you, so that meant he didn't like you right?" Hayley chuckled dryly and picked at one of the dead flowers around the grave absentmindedly, "Not that I would know – no one would go near me after the accident. Anyway, the boy that never chased you actually liked you too. So maybe Harry does like me. Is it wrong that I want him to like me? These feelings I have, Gwen, they can't be rational! I wish you were here, because, how I feel, I can barely put it into words… I… I like him."
A strange muffled sound, almost like a stifled swear, carried in on the wind right into Hayley's ear. She scanned the graves and bushes that were dotted around, making doubly sure that she was indeed alone. The graveyard seemed empty enough to her apart from the imposing watchful stone angels.
"I could be sneaky, I could be smart, smart like you Gwen. Maybe I could use a bit of psychiatry know how on him, after all it is one of my strengths." Reaching up to the back of her head, Hayley pulled out her hair tie, her auburn locks cascading down to her shoulders with a few limp strands moving gently in the wind. "He doesn't own me, he doesn't control me! It pissed him off when my hair wasn't in its usual style; he noticed me then," she smiled sadly, remembering how insistent he'd been that day – Harry enjoyed pulling her hair, and, truth be told, she liked it too.
With a plan set in her mind and her soul now bared, Hayley stood stiffly, her legs tired from kneeling. She grabbed her handbag and decided to take the long way home to stretch her legs.
If she hadn't been so absorbed in her sorrow, Hayley would have noticed that her feeling of being watched held some credibility.
Behind a nearby rose bush sat Peter Parker; on his way to visit Gwen he had noticed the redhead sobbing and kneeling beside the grave. As much as Peter wanted to go to her, something told him not to, his Spidey senses tingling. And, well, he wasn't that good dealing with his own emotions, let alone other peoples! So Peter had quickly ducked behind a sycamore tree and stayed hidden by the bushes for the majority of Hayley's confession. Luckily for them both the cemetery had been empty, therefore his spying went undisturbed and unnoticed, even by Hayley.
Peter watched her leave, walking the long way round as usual, before letting out a slow breath before sitting back on the ground more comfortably. He ruffled his hair thoughtfully not to sure how to process all the information he'd just heard. It sounded like Harry was causing trouble as always and that his patent for women hadn't changed. But what disturbed Peter the most was Hayley's obvious attraction to his estranged friend. Although he knew Harry had that effect on people, he always thought Hayley had more dignity than to be sucked into the Osborn charm. Obviously Peter was wrong. Hayley was more damaged than even Gwen had let on, and it made him sad to realise that he didn't really know her at all.
He remembered when Gwen first introduced the pair; Hayley had returned from England and was meeting her best friend for late night Chinese. He'd only tagged along at Gwen's insistence, instantly regretting it upon seeing the redhead's energy deplete when she learnt that there would be three for dinner, not two.
Gwen hadn't noticed her friend's sadness, as she was too excited at seeing her old friend, and talked non-stop when Hayley would only offer one-word answers about her time abroad. Peter knew that his girlfriend had the best intentions; she wanted the two most important people in her life to be friends and get to know one another. However it seemed that Hayley desired quality girl time and unfortunately Peter had denied her that. And he continued to be the person standing between her friendship with Gwen, as his girlfriend's busy schedule and his vigilante lifestyle meant she would unintentionally blow her plan's with Hayley on a regular basis. For that reason alone, Peter knew they would never be real friends.
Rubbing his face, Peter ignored the memories of the past and tried to refocus. Helping Hayley was out of the question – she was too involved with Harry to be considered an ally anymore, and at this point the tiny shred of friendship they may have had had probably been compromised. Peter didn't know if he could trust her, trust Hayley to stand by him if he did reveal what happened that night, if she finally discovered that he was Spider-Man. He could tell that she was confused, heck, he was bloody confused. But his mind was clear when it came to Harry. Hers was not.
He'd have to keep a closer eye on the redhead.
For her sake…and for his.
Apart from his illness and billion-dollar fortune, Harry had also inherited Norman Osborn's short fuse and lack of patience – he wanted things when he wanted them and did not like having to wait. Therefore, it should come as no surprise that this cat and mouse game with Hayley was really starting to test his patience. And having the Goblin goading him and giving snarky commentary wasn't helping to improve his grouchy mood. Even Felicia's visit had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Sure, he enjoyed fooling around with a pretty girl, but she wasn't the prettiest girl in his sights; Hayley was.
Since he had been relatively Goblin outburst free for the last three months of his now five month stay at Ravencroft, not counting his most recent episode, Manners had been able to secure new privileges for his client. Harry had been having his meals brought to his cell daily during his incarceration, as his condition was deemed too dangerous to be around other inmates. However, after Felicia's visit, Manners returned later in the day to inform Harry of the good news. With the trial just over a week away, the lawyer had gone to Doctor Scott asking for Harry to eat his meals in the Ravencroft canteen. Manners wanted to show the courts that his client was civilised enough to not be provoked by people and normal situations. Whereas Doctor Scott had only agreed because he was determined for the Osborn kid to fail and be locked up in his institution for good.
That was three days ago.
Currently, Harry was sitting alone at a table in the large canteen eating a disgusting ham and cheese sandwich; as soon as he was free he'd order in some decent food, probably shawarma from that place he liked downtown. He ate alone like he did at ever meal time, choosing to sit away from the other inmates so that he could observe them and assess their possible usefulness. In particular, he watched the bald man from Room 125, a Russian mobster called Aleksei Sytsevich, and also Kinsey. There was something off about the latter inmate. Manners had done a background check on the man, who was in on charges of stalking, assault, rape, and murder. All victims were women. All were redheads. No wonder the guy looked at Hayley like she was a piece of meat. It made Harry sick.
He'd had to watch Kinsey stare at his girl every lunchtime since he'd been permitted to use the canteen.
Being under the impression that Hayley's only role at Ravencroft was as nurse and sometimes psychiatrist, Harry had been rather surprised to see her in the lunchroom watching over the inmates at midday. Apparently, all the nurses were on a weekly canteen rota to stand watch with the prison guards in case an inmate became unruly or entered into an uncontrollable psychosis. It was ironic really that his little redhead had been timetabled to work the lunch shift this week, especially since Harry was trying to distance himself. It appeared fate had other plans.
To be honest, Kinsey wasn't the only inmate that stared at Hayley; men locked up day in and day out with minimal female contact were bound to have their eyes glaze over in lust. The female nurses were subjected to catcalls and wondering eyes when they worked in the canteen but all had grown used to the abuse. However, for Harry, to witness this kind of barbaric behaviour directed at his ginger doll made his blood boil with rage. The Goblin had concocted intricate and painful plans to kill every single bastard that she attracted.
Harry, who was supposed to be ignoring her, found that his sparkling blue orbs were constantly drawn in her direction like magnets. She seemed to have under gone a small transformation, much to Harry's pleasure, the defiant little minx. The long black fitted skirt had made a delightful return along with a splash of pink lip-gloss and some cheap patent kitten heels. And, much to his displeasure, her hair was back in that prudish bun, all it's auburn beauty tied up in a tight ball.
Even though she was stood across the room, Harry had a strong urge to go to her, rip her hair out of that bun and then drag her to his cell. He was frustrated to be so close to her and yet unable to do anything. Plus, it didn't help matters that she seemed to be ignoring him too. On the rare occasion that he managed to catch her eye, Hayley would quickly look away; it only made Harry more determined to have her. No one ignored an Osborn, not by choice.
"Really Harry? Are we going to have this conversation, again? Isn't it a good thing that she's ignoring you?"
Harry rolled his eyes and clenched his fist, squishing his revolting sandwich. "No, it's not a good thing, actually! We, are the game maker, she is the player," he thought, speaking to the Goblin in this mind, "She should be the one making sideways glances!"
"And yet here you are, not able to keep your eyes from her," the Goblin chastised gently, "I think Ginge is playing her own game… how delightful."
"I think I'll ask Manners to arrange a meeting with her – "
"WHAT?!"
Rolling his eyes again with a sigh, Harry rubbed at his temples from the slight discomfort it caused to converse with himself mentally, "Oh please, like you don't want to see her either. This whole keeping our distance thing will only continue to work if she is reminded who's boss – that hairstyle needs to be addressed."
"So petty and petulant Harry."
"Fuck you," Harry snarled aloud, drawing a few hard glares from suspicious prisoners.
Even Hayley had broken her frosty act and quickly darted concerned eyes in his direction.
Throwing the mulched sandwich on his tray, Harry spoke again, mentally, to the Goblin. "If she continues to look that way, then…god knows! Kinsey's practically drooling, and his trousers aren't that tight because they're a few sizes too small. He's an animal and she can't be alone with him."
"True," the Goblin considered slowly.
"I will remind her to dress appropriately."
"Only if you must."
Both men were sitting in Room 136, legs crossed, arms folded, brows furrowed; waiting.
Manners glanced at his silver Rolex, conscious that as the minutes ticked by, Harry was more inclined to get ticked off. At his client's request, Manners had emailed Hayley and put a post-it on her desk the previous day, to inform her of the proposed meeting.
"She's late."
"Yes, by three minutes," Manners coughed, shifting uncomfortably, noticing how the air between the two had altered, the room suddenly feeling heavy and dangerous.
Glancing at the boy, Manners could see that Harry was irritated, a scowl fixed on his face, foot tapping impatiently.
"She knows I don't like tardiness," Harry bite out as he inspected his nails trying to convey an air of calm though he knew that his lawyer wasn't fooled. His eyes were trained on Manners' watch, his ears attuned to the harsh ticking that seemed to echo around him with each passing minute.
Five minutes.
Harry's jaw clenched.
Ten minutes.
His breathing quickened and became erratic.
Fifteen minutes.
Harry stood suddenly, kicking the chair from beneath him and grabbing Manners by the shoulders.
"Go find her. NOW!" he snarled, shoving the lawyer away from him, his face scrunched in manic anger.
Manners quickly left the cell to find the redhead, realising that his client was starting to loose his patience. Quickly.
Pacing up and down the length of his small room, Harry kicked at his chair again, sending it sailing into the chair Manners had previously occupied. Both chairs clattered against the wall, the sound of metal on stone resonating loudly in the four confining walls. Harry growled in frustration as he ran his hands over his face and through his hair.
"Where. The. Hell. Is. SHE?!" he bellowed stalking over to the door and banging his fist against the window, "WHERE IS SHE? Bring her here NOW!"
The anger suddenly became overwhelming and Harry made a grab for the discarded chairs throwing one at the mirror over his sink. The mirror cracked but did not shatter. Harry roared again. Feelings of loneliness and abandonment from his childhood began to re-emerge, which only heightened the distress he felt at Hayley not turning up for their meeting.
She was always there when he needed her. Hadn't she told him once that she'd never truly leave him? Lies! It was all lies!
Harry continued to destroy his room for a good fifteen minutes before collapsing, exhausted on his bed.
"Feel better? Enjoy your little tantrum? You, are the one who pushed her away! Why would Ginge come today now she's no longer treating us?" questioned the Goblin casually, "You have no one to blame but – "
"Stop! Just. STOP!" Harry retorted, gripping his head with both hands wanting to rip the monstrous Id from his mind.
His breathing had become more laboured from his violent exertion and it seemed only to be getting worse with the realisation that Hayley was indeed not coming today. It was his own fault that she'd left him. Everyone left him and it was always his fault; he was going to die alone.
The door rattled and the hinges screeched open.
Lifting his head hopefully, Harry waited for her to walk into the room.
When she didn't immediately appear, the small feeling of hope quickly slipped away, "Get in here Hayley. NOW!"
Four armed guards waltzed in followed by Colin and Nurse Cadence.
"Stand up and put ya hands on ya 'ead," Colin stated gruffly as the guards with guns quickly surrounded Harry, who was still lying on the dishevelled bed.
He was in no mood for this shit.
"And why do I need to do that?" Harry asked steadily through gritted teeth, before flashing a wide mocking grin to the party of six.
Nurse Cadence walked forward to explain; "It's time for the real therapy to begin Mr Osborn."
Manners had searched high and low for Hayley but the girl was elusive!
No one seemed to know where she was and when he had gone to the Nurse's station, her desk had not changed from the previous day when he'd left her the post-it note. Said note was still stuck to the computer screen. The lawyer sighed, dreading having to explain to Harry that the girl hadn't turned up for work and therefore had no idea of their meeting. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and slackened his tie in an attempt to cool himself after rushing around in vain.
It was only when he really stopped and looked around the room, and then walked back out to in corridor, did Manners notice that the institute was eerily quite. And not just quiet. Empty.
Where was everyone?
Stalking back to the West wing, Manners had an uneasy feeling in his stomach, like something bad was happening. The atmosphere just seemed off.
He was about to turn the bend into the entrance of the West wing when Manners heard someone yelling. It was faint, but he would know that voice anywhere.
Harry.
Ignoring the fact that his shoes and suit were designer and would most likely get scuffed and rumpled, Manners raced towards his client's screams, mindlessly following the noise like a pied piper. He ran down corridors he'd never even seen before, desperate to locate Harry as soon as possible. What was going on?
As he turned a sharp bend with the sign "North wing" on the wall, Manners finally saw Harry struggling against the vice like grip of two guards, restraints bound his hands and feet. Manners was more shocked to see that there were semi-automatic guns pointed at the terrified boy.
"OI! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?" he yelled. When the company of guards failed to respond, Manners tried again, "What is the meaning of this? STOP! For fuck sake, STOP!"
Still no response.
Manners hadn't quite caught up to the group but as he drew nearer, he could see that they had stopped, and a guard was punching a code into a security heavy door. He hastened his pace, practically sprinting like a greyhound, anxious to close the distance between himself and Harry.
The group and Harry entered the now unlocked room.
Just as he reached the door it shut tight, effectively locking Manners out of the North wing.
Banging on the sturdy metal and glass sliding door, Manners tried to catch the attention of someone in the room, anyone that could explain this farce. The guards in the room ignored him and marched Harry over to a horrific looking hospital bed that was surrounded by scientific metal contraptions. However, the various doctors and nurses, who were dressed in strange rubber like clothing, were all staring at Manners, unsure what to do about the disturbance he was causing.
Along with the commotion Manners was making, the room itself was hectic, full of strange looking instruments surrounding numerously busy people. All the while Harry continued to bellow.
"Now, now, Mr Manners, there really is no need for that," said Doctor Scott, suddenly appearing, grinning through the glass, his voice full of psychotic excitement.
"What the fuck is this? Why is he getting strapped down?" Manners shouted practically pulling his hair out in frustration at not understanding what the hell was happening.
Doctor Scott held up an official looking document against the glass for the lawyer to read, "The court has ordered a few tests before the trial. As you can see this document allows me to put Mr Osborn through testing to see how strongly he reacts to stress. Especially since the stress of the trial may bring out the monster in him."
"Are you fucking serious? What kind of testing involves all this? Let me in, I want to be in there!"
"Oh, I can't do that Mr Manners, you are not a Ravencroft employee and thus not permitted to enter," Doctor Scott smirked, loving the power he held over the swanky lawyer, "We'll return him to his cell once I'm finished with him. Though, you are welcome to watch."
They had knocked him out shortly after entering the therapy room.
When Harry came to, he instinctively went to rub at the throbbing on the side of his face. However he quickly discovered that his movements were greatly restricted by metal clamps and strapping that pinned down his arms and legs. He could feel plastic electrode pads covering his temples and now bare chest. Metallic clamps with wires were individually attached to all his fingers. Harry could barely move his head from side to side.
Instead, he used his eyes to survey the situation; several strange people with lab coats and peculiar clothing were standing over him. He only recognised one of them.
"Ahhh! Good to see you are awake Mr Osborn," Doctor Scott spoke gleefully, "You may recognise the room you're in, no? We've altered the harness that held your friend Electro – now it holds you."
The doctor moved towards a panel of computers and typed in a few codes. All of a sudden the room came to life, machines whirring, and a powerful sense of tangible energy cloaked Harry where he lay.
Scott rolled up his lab coat sleeves, rubbing his gloved hands together, eager to begin, "Now, let's get the show started!" He leant down towards Harry and whispered quietly so that only they could hear, "Do be sure to let me know when it hurts."
"ARRRGGGGHHHHH!" Harry yelled.
He could feel sharp electric pain trickling through his veins, making them pulse wildly, jutting out from his skin that was rapidly turning green. The nails on his fingers dug down into his palms drawing blood. But Harry could barely feel it. His whole body began to convulse with the electrical power surging under his skin, struggling involuntarily against his bindings, flesh infected with pure agonising discomfort.
Harry forced himself to hold on to his sanity with every fibre of his being, whilst fighting to breathe, live, exist; he refused to let them win.
"ARRGGGHHHHAYYYLLLEEEYYY!"
It was a sunny day though a gentle wind made the air bitingly cold, which was why Hayley was wearing her favourite Metallica jumper, hugging it to her tiny frame as she walked slowly down the sidewalk. She'd decided to take the day off to do some much-needed chores around the home and have a good rest. Surprisingly, Doctor Scott and Nurse Cadence had agreed without any insistence on her part. Hayley had a lot more free time now that6 Harry was no longer her patient, meaning that her workload had lessened in terms of paper work and session preparation. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a day off - it had been a long time coming.
For that reason, Hayley decided to visit her preferred grocery store, which was further away from her home than the one where she did her usual weekly shop. Whole Foods Market produce was a lot more expensive than her cheap Pot Noodles, but since Harry had paid her rent, she had a little bit extra money to buy some real food for a change. She was dying to purchase some Wheat Free products – wheat didn't really agree with her.
Hayley entered the store, her mood improving when she was the beautifully presented aisles of yummy nutritious food. She picked up a small basket and began to make her way round the store. Since she didn't have anything specific to buy, Hayley took her time, walking up and down each aisle slowly, looking at any product whose packaging caught her eye.
It was only when she was inspecting cans of healthy soup, did Hayley notice there was a tall lanky man standing too close beside her. Turning to tell the stranger to buzz off, Hayley's glare changed to a surprised smile at seeing that the man was in fact Peter Parker.
"Peter!"
"Hey, hey Hayley. How's it hanging? Any, eh, exciting soups?" Peter chuckled, grabbing a can of vegetable soup and throwing it from hand-to-hand absentmindedly.
Hayley smiled warmly and made a grab for the flying can, dumping it into her basket, "Thought I deserved a change from Pot Noodles."
"So how you been?" Peter asked uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck, "You still look, um, you know, ill, ill-ish."
"Hence the soup Parker," Hayley said shortly – as much as it was nice that someone cared, she really didn't want to talk about her health. "How are you feeling about Thursday?"
"Thurs…Thursday? What's, what's happening Thursday?"
Hayley blinked up at the tall boy shocked that he didn't seem to know. Of all the days to forget!
"The trial. Thursday. Harry's trial?"
Peter shuffled his feet and glanced away from Hayley. Of course he hadn't forgot, he just didn't want to think about it.
"Hey, Peter, it's ok." Hayley stepped forward and gave him a quick awkward hug, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist, trying to reassure her friend, "It's gona be hard but we have to be there. For Gwen."
"Are you sure you won't be there for Harry?" he asked sharply, moving out of the redhead's weak hug.
"Well, yes, I will be there for Harry," Hayley said slowly, not really understanding the attitude behind Peter's question, "I will be giving evidence and my professional opinion on his progress and state of mind."
"And…er…what is your professional opinion on the man who took away Gwen?"
"That's not any of your business… hang on, my phone's ringing," Hayley said, frowning slightly as she pulled her cell from her jumper pocket; it was Manners. "Hello?"
"Where the fuck are you? No, don't tell me, I don't care! Get down to Ravencroft, NOW!" Manners yelled down the cell phone.
Hayley was astounded that she could hear the man so clearly when he was obviously calling from inside the institute - cell service was terrible in the depths of Ravencroft.
"Wait, Manners, slow down. I don't under – "
"Harry needs you!" There was a pause. "God fucking damn it!"
"What's happened?" she asked desperately, Peter putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder whilst he leaned in, straining to listen.
"Fucking court documents that's what. Scott's got him strapped to a bed and their fucking shocking him! Electric fucking therapy!
"W…what?"
"I can't get in to stop them! Harry's gone! He's turned green! For Christ sake, this is sabotage!" Manners roared desperately, his attempts to break down the door could be heard echoing down the receiver, "No one will let me in! I don't have a fucking key card!
"Is Cheryl not in? You could use her key – "
"HAYLEY! Can you not hear this?"
Hayley heard Manners bang his phone against a glass window, Harry's pain induced screams clear as a bell ringing in her eyes, tormenting images rushing through her mind. Even Peter's head jerked back at the ferocity of the strange noises emanating from Hayley's cell phone.
"Oh my god!" she gasped, her doe eyes wide with fear and glassy with tears. "I'll be right there Manners. I'm coming, tell him I'm coming," Hayley hollered, quickly hanging up and stuffing her phone into her handbag.
She dropped her groceries, their purchase no longer important, soup cans rolling over the floor.
Peter and the surrounding shoppers watched her slowly backing towards the entrance, a look of absolute terror etched on her pale face. Walking forward and following her path, Peter reached out to grab her hand.
"He needs me, Peter! He needs me!" Hayley explained, ripping her arm from his grasp before racing out the store, her feet pounding hard against the sidewalk as she ran like she'd never run before.
Pulling out her pass, Hayley sprinted to the nearest subway station, the wind whistling around her. Today was not the day to be further away from Ravencroft than usual! Her erratic movements caused her hair to become loose, the tight bun losing its hold, her locks escaping back into their usual ponytail style.
"I'm coming Harry," Hayley breathed to herself, "I won't loose you too."
Manners looked at the cell phone in his hand resisting the urge to chuck it at the nearest wall. He began to pace up and down the short hallway, flinching every time a new scream was expelled from Harry's lips; the door may have been made of bulletproof glass but he could hear every painful cry.
Rubbing at his temples with stress filled fingers, Manners tried to reason with himself that as long as Harry continued to yell, then it meant he was holding on. It meant that he hadn't passed out. It meant that Hayley might find them in time to stop this madness. Not that she would be able to do anything other than get him into the room.
"ARGH…AR…AAARRRGGGHHHHH!"
He heard steady footsteps approaching. They didn't sound like the delicate heels of a woman but Manners need to hold on to something and that was hope.
A strange man briskly approached the lawyer.
"Our boy isn't looking too good," commented the stranger peeking through the window at the torture going on in the other room.
"Look, I know I asked you to come today, but there's been a change of fucking plans here," Manners said exasperatedly, "I'm sorry I've wasted your time. I'll call you later when I've sorted out this fucking mess!"
"AR…AAARRRGGGHHHHH!"
"Jesus Christ, Hayley were the fuck are you?" Manners was beside himself with worry for Harry's wellbeing, imagining the worst as he watched in horror as the boy started to no longer look like himself.
He was a monster.
Lost in his anxiety, the lawyer failed to notice that the stranger had vanished.
"You are alone," the Goblin whispered, "I will always be waiting. I will always be longing for you to begin spiralling downward. You are the shadow. I am the dark. I embrace all of you. Every dark thought you've ever had. Every bad thing you have ever done. That was I. I am you when you cannot fight."
"AR…AAARRRGGGHHHHH!"
"You were never good enough Harry. Just not good enough. You can't even hold on to a friend. Even Peter betrayed you. You are not worthy of being someone's friend. You are not worthy of caring for or understanding people. You are a terrible person. Such a worthless disgusting person. That's why everyone hates you. That's why they stay away from you. That's why you loose everyone. Why you have no one. You do not deserve love. The one thing you crave, you cannot have. Who would love you anyway?"
"ARGH…AR…AAARRRGGGHHHHH!"
"One more deep breath. One more. One more before you are lost. Before your soul deserts you. Before your soul belongs to me. Let your body accept me. Let me take over, you know you want to. Give in, Harry. Let me help you. Let me be you."
"ARRRGGGGHHHHH!"
"She left us, Harry. Ginge left us…"
"ARRGGGHHHHAYYYLLLEEEYYY!"
"She's gone…"
"HARRY!"
Manners turned sharply, barely believing his ears.
"HARRY!" Hayley screamed again, urgently racing towards the North wing, "HARRY? Manners? Where are you?"
The lawyer ran the short distance down the corridor to meet the redhead, "Give me the key card! Give it to me, NOW!"
Hayley quickly pushed the swipe card into Manners outstretched hand as they both hurried towards the locked door. Manners fumbled with the locking mechanism, his hands trembling due to the sudden adrenaline of being able to aid Harry.
"Wait," Hayley said quietly.
Manners looked at her like she'd lost her mind, "WAIT! What do you mean, wait?"
She pointed at the array of medical staff and guards behind the door. "Look Manners," she said shakily, "They've finished. They're setting him free."
In their panic, both Hayley and Manners had failed to notice that Harry's screams no longer echoed around them. The blood pounding in their ears had deafened them to the sudden silence.
Both watched, holding their breath, as Harry was taken out of the metal clamps and torturous restraints. The doctors removed the electrodes that covered his body, roughly pulling on his regulation white t-shirt and hauling up the orange jumpsuit to cover his shoulders. Colin and Ernie dragged his limp and unconscious body onto a wheelchair that Nurse Cadence had swiftly brought forward. The army of guards quickly surrounded the nurse, who began pushing Harry and the wheelchair towards the door, which Hayley and Manners were still glued to.
"Come on Hayley," Manners said suddenly breaking the painful silence, "We'll go to his cell and meet him there."
"But –"
Grabbing Hayley's arm gently the lawyer started walking her in the opposite direction of Harry, "He'll need us when he wakes up. We need to be waiting for him."
Five minutes.
Hayley fidgeted on her chair in Harry's cell. Manners stood leaning against the cold stone wall, watching for movement outside through the door window. The room was no longer in disarray as Hayley had cleaned it shortly after they arrived from running ahead of the guards and Nurse Cadence.
Eight minutes.
Her breathing quickened and her voice started to tremble. "I…I…I don't think he's –"
"He's coming," Manners snapped, "Be patient."
Twelve minutes.
Shadows caused from outside movement made Manners straighten off the wall and fling open the cell door expectantly. Hayley jumped at the abrupt action, her whole body on edge with worry. She watched as Cadence wheeled Harry in, saying something stupid like "See. No harm done."
Then the nurse left, closing the door, confining the three of them in the room. The sound of the guards and doctors leaving the area was still audible even from inside the cell. Manners and Hayley stared at the unconscious man in the wheelchair, unsure how to proceed.
Harry's wakening moans sprung the frozen pair into instant action.
"Get him on the bed, quickly," Hayley ordered, her medical training kicking in.
She watched Manners lift Harry's body from the chair and carefully laid him on the bed. Hayley filled a plastic cup that sat by the cell sink with water, before slowly sitting next to the crumpled body on the bed. As he came out of his unconscious state, she placed the cup near his dry cracked lips, helping him to drink.
"Where…where were you?" Harry whispered painfully between grateful gulps of water. He reached his hand up, slowly, touching Hayley's face tentatively, hardly believing that she was real. "You said…said you'd never leave me…" he questioned quietly, hardly aware of what he was really saying, "…I needed you."
Hayley could feel her heart breaking.
With tears in her sorrowful eyes, she placed a gentle palm softly against his cheek. Leaning forward, Hayley spoke earnestly in his ear, pleading for him to understand, "I'm so, so sorry Harry. I will never leave you ever again. I… I lov…"
Getting too choked up to even form the words, Hayley moved her shaking face back above his, and carefully, kindly, pressed her lips against his.
They had fed Harry his medication and both watched in wonder as he slowly started to loose the green hue that had dominated his skin a few hours before. Hayley was confident in that moment that the pills had worked, that their properties had the ability to control his Goblin transformations. Whereas Manners was thoroughly convinced that the redhead had a remarkable effect on Harry.
After she had kissed him, Hayley had been crying too much to notice that the Goblin features started to fade, long before any medication had been administered. Sure, the medication had helped control Harry's outbursts in the week that Hayley had been away from him. But Manners now knew that she was far more important to Harry, to his health, to his wellbeing, than any of them truly realised.
It was now late evening; Manners and Hayley had left after two hours, both reluctant to but confident that he wasn't about to be tortured again. Manners had even phoned the judge and complained about Doctor Scott's actions. No more "stress therapy" would be administered to him for the duration of the trial.
Sitting calmly in a his chair, Harry looked up to the cracked mirror to see a man wearing a trench coat and a fedora enter his cell; the man's face was cast in shadow like always, his identity unknown bar his name; Gustav Fiers.
"Leave us," Fiers ordered, making Colin and another prison guard lock him inside with the young Osborn.
Colin looked like he was about to question the shadowy man but Manners, who had returned with Fiers, quickly stepped forward and gave a stern nod to ok the proceedings.
Harry waited until the door was closed, sealing himself and Fiers away from any spying ears before conversing with the man. "You've made progress," he stated, knowing that Fiers rarely made public appearances unless it was necessary.
"I've identified several worthy candidates. Now that Spider-Man's gone, this city, well, it will never be the same," the man responded, his voice low and gravelly.
"Oh, I'm counting on that," Harry smiled, cocking his eyebrow while trying to glance over his shoulder at Fiers.
Although he was usually no longer restrained in his meetings with Manners or Hayley, today's events saw security around his cell tightened, and that included his bindings and restraints being reinstated.
"Speaking of progress, you are looking better."
"It comes and goes," said Harry cynically, thinking how ironic that statement was. He looked at his reflection to see his eyes flash green, hearing the Goblin's manic laughter ringing in his head; oh the irony. "Tell me more."
"How many men did you have in mind?"
Shaking his head to rid himself of his inner monster, Harry tried to stay focused, "I wanna keep it small. Everything you need is already at OsCorp, Special Projects Division." He paused. "I do hope Menken is being compliant with our little venture."
Fiers watched Harry curiously, thinking it odd how he seemed ever so slightly obsessed with his reflection; it was like the boy was staring at a stranger.
Moving forward slightly, Fiers continued, "He has been most helpful."
"Good, see that it stays that way, I won't have him fucking me over again," Harry muttered bitterly, not even trying to keep the anger from his voice. Changing the subject, he smiled a toothy grin, keen to know about the next stage of their plan, "Who's our first volunteer?"
"Aleksei Sytesevich. Currently serving a life sentence. He is…most eager to join us," informed Fiers.
"Ah yes, the man in Room 125. Good. Start with him."
"As you wish. I will be back next week to discuss further progress."
Harry nodded his approval.
"And Mr Osborn, good luck with the trial."
Watching in the mirror as the man in the shadows left his cell, Harry's jaw clenched, the strain of the upcoming trial starting to eat away at him. He had been relatively calm about it until now. Who knew how the results of today's torture would affect the court – would it put a spanner in the works? All his carefully calculated plans with Manners and Fiers could be undone. Harry refused to be confined to his cell any longer than necessary. Besides, when he was released, then the real fun could begin.
"Time to play."
"Order! This court is now in session. Today, Thursday May 15th, we are gathered in a court of law to decide the sentencing of one Mr Harold Theopolis Osborn, who is charged with one count of voluntary manslaughter, murder in the First-degree, and property negligence to the state of New York and city of Manhattan. How does the defendant plead?"
Harry sat on the uncomfortable wooden chair in the stocks, listening to the judge list off his crimes. His scanned the room, searching for a particular face, though noting how Manners had managed to keep the press out. When he couldn't immediately see a flash of red hair he began to feel angry inside. Clenching his fists behind the stand, Harry felt someone far more familiar staring at him.
On the back row sat Peter Parker.
"How does the defendant plead?" the judge asked again.
Looking directly at Peter, his gaze as cold as his icy blue eyes, Harry smirked, "Not guilty."
I think I just died guys! This chapter has killed me! Loved writing it, but damn so much action to write down!
Poor Hayley. I think we got some good insight into her mind during the graveyard scene, though I do feel bad that she's going through hell right now. As much as I don't want Hayley to be a sad OC, from my own experiences, I feel that the strongest people often have endured hardships in their life. I've always thought that people who cry and show their emotions tend to be strong – it's hard to show your emotions in public because others may perceive you as weak. Don't know how you guys feel about that, whether you agree or not, but that's my reasoning for Hayley's character arc so far – she will get stronger though!
And…. AHHHHH! I just bought Amazing Spider-Man2 dvd early release on iTunes! Died and went to Harry heaven and fell in love all over again! It's so nice to finally have the film when I've been writing this fic from seeing it once at the cinema!
Anyways, I hope this chapter was epic for you and worth the wait! You guys are the best and your response to this story always leaves me amazed! I am metaphorically buying you all chocolate and grant you wonderful Harry filled dreams – you deserve it! LOVE XXX