Featured song: Master of Puppets - Metallica

I don't own Spider-Man or any characters/plot point associated with the Marvel franchise blah blah, you know the drill.

As he approached the bewildered girl with a predatory haze in his startling blue eyes, Harry undid his collar top button and eased his tie, adopting a confident swagger to his already poised walk.

He was free.

It was an immense feeling. A feeling that he couldn't quite place, but one that had him whistling in elation. He was free to do as he pleased, to take back control of OsCorp, to plant the corrupting seeds of Project Sinister.

Finally, he was free to seek revenge on Spider-Man. Sure, there would be many eyes watching his every move, just waiting for him to fuck up. However, Harry had eyes of his own stationed around New York and Manhattan, waiting to strike when the time was right.

Drawing ever closer, Harry could see that his psychiatrist was staring at the hands in her lap, mumbling the same word over and over to herself in a low voice – "idiot".

It only made his smirk widen to know that his game of chess was getting under her skin. His little precious porcelain pawn was now bound to his chessboard, and he was curious to know what her next move would be.

The two men reached the final pew of spectator seats where Hayley was sat; she didn't move or look up but did stop mumbling. Harry knew she was aware of their presence, though choosing to ignore them for as long as possible.

She probably thinks that if she ignores me that I'll go away, Harry thought, surely she knows me better than that.

"Hayley," Harry commanded, putting his hand on the back of her seat. He leaned forwards so that his body towered over hers, invading her personal space.

Still she refused to acknowledge him.

"Hayley."

Nothing.

Harry scowled in annoyance and grabbed her left arm, dragging her up out of her seat, "Don't be petulant, doll. Come, we have much to discuss."

Hayley obeyed and allowed Harry to guide her by the arm from the courthouse with Manners following close behind. She didn't really have much choice but to go with them. Having failed to read the document she'd signed, Hayley only knew what the Foreman had disclosed in court about her new role as an outpatient physician. She vowed to read every inch of that document when she got her hands on it. And to reread that document meant going with Harry.

Manners was first to the courthouse door; "Brace yourselves," he said grimly before pulling hard on the handle, yanking the oak doors open.

A sudden burst of white light flashed before Hayley's eyes making her feel disorientated. Little blanched spots clouded her vision with constant sparkling flashes replacing those pinpricks of light that quickly faded. She stumbled slightly as a mass of reporters and photographers surged forward, desperate to get the perfect snap of the newly freed Osborn.

All Hayley could hear was a sudden hubbub of loud insistent voices, asking question after question, echoing around her from all directions.

"How does it feel to be free Mr Osborn?"

"Care to tell us about the deal of the century?"

"Do you think Spider-Man is responsible for Miss Stacy's death?"

"Why do you think Spider-Man would frame you like this?"

"What are going to do now Mr Osborn? What's your next step?"

"Any words for The Daily Bugle, Mr Osborn?"

"Mr Osborn?"

"Mr Osborn?"

"MR OSBORN?!"

Harry stopped advancing towards the road and away from the swarm. Instead, he decided to face the eager reporters.

"I'm sure it will not surprise you to hear that I have no comment…" Harry spoke loudly with smirk. And when the quiet journalists began to mumble in dispute, he held up his hand, silencing them enough to say, "Other than…it's good to be free."

There was an uproar of noise, to which Harry simply flipped the bangs off his face before removing Ray-Ban aviators from his jacket pocket, and placing them expertly over his amused eyes. He tried to continue on over to the waiting Osborn black limo, not the usual Sedan, that was situated by the road. However, the crowd was so riled that any type of productive movement was impossible.

Turning to Manners, Harry gave a nod, to which the lawyer took out his cell phone. Flipping it open, the lawyer pressed speed dial and barked a few words down the speaker that were inaudible over the loud crowd. Even Hayley, who was practically sandwiched between the two men, could not hear what Manners had said. She was too startled by the press to notice that Harry was still holding her arm tightly.

Peeking between the sea of heads and cameras, Hayley looked to see how close they were to their destination; they were still at the top of the courthouse stone steps, flagged either side by gigantic and magnificent lion statues. How were they ever going to descend the stairs with thirty odd people surrounding them?

A rather tall cameraman stepped back for a second, allowing Hayley to see two large and burly men dressed in dark suits emerging from the waiting limo. They fought through the crowd with ease, making a beeline for their trapped client and his two associates. The pair reminded Hayley of Colin, though more refined. Both had matching silver OsCorp logo patterned ties and OsCorp pins, making their black suit and white shirt ensemble appear more expensive and official. They also had wireless earpieces glued in their left ears.

"This way Mr Osborn," came the sharp voice of the six-foot tall bodyguard, situating himself in front of Harry, ready to push away any overenthusiastic reporter that got too close. "Mr Manners, Miss Carmichael, this way."

The other bodyguard, who had black-hair, positioned himself next to Manners. The lawyer nodded a greeting and murmured "Alright Pete," before placing his cell back into his pocket. The two stood side by side making up the rear of the quintet.

With the addition of the two rather imposing bodyguards, the sought after group were able to make steady progress down the courthouse steps.

"And who are you?" squawked a female journalist, bashing into Hayley's shoulder with a notebook whilst pushing a flashing camera into her face.

The tall bodyguard, James, held his arm out quickly, blocking the inquiring female from getting any closer.

"Erm, I'm Hayl - "

In a flash, Harry pulled the redhead away from the reporter and the bodyguard's intervening arm, "Don't say anything," he hissed in a low and quiet tone. Harry moved his grip from Hayley's forearm, placing a protective and guiding arm around her shoulders. "Stay close Hayley," he warned in her ear, his tickling warm breath causing the redhead to shiver and move closer to his body

Button clicks and flashing lights doubled their attack.

Hayley was too preoccupied with the surrounding paparazzi to think about the true connotations of having her picture taken. But Harry knew. He knew that his image would be on the front page of every major newspaper and magazine in the state. Harry understood the underlying judgments people would make at seeing an image of Hayley walking from the courthouse to the Osborn limo with Harry's arm slung over her shoulders; he'd been on many a front cover to know what the media fed off of.

A speculated unethical and unprofessional romance, oh, the scandal.

He and the Goblin liked chaos, and if it eventually brought Hayley closer to him, then so be it…baby steps.

They finally reached the limo. James opened the side door allowing Manners to slide in. Harry was next but at the last minute he held the top of the car door and slide his other hand down to the small of Hayley's back. Gently, he pushed her in ahead of him. The dark haired bodyguard, Pete, seeing that Harry was nearly free from the media, decided to take the opportunity to open the passenger door, sitting in front next to the chauffeur.

Before entering the limo himself, Harry turned one last time to look at the courthouse, lowering his Ray-Bans and peering over their top. He didn't pay any attention to the reporters. Instead he gazed towards the tall metal spire atop the courthouse. Harry saw Peter crouched upon the spire tip in his Spider-Man garb; he felt his ex-friend's judgemental and hate filled eyes bearing down on him.

Smirking widely, Harry finally entered the limo, with James following suit and closing the car door firmly behind them.

"Well, I think we all deserve a drink don't you?" Manners hummed happily as the limo started to move off down the road.

He removed three delicate glasses from the minibar and popped the cork on a very large and expensive bottle of champagne – it had little slivers of gold leaf sparkling in the liquid.

After passing out the flute glasses, surpassing James as he was on duty, Manners lifted his own and toasted, "To freedom!"

Harry mirrored the lawyer, draining his own glass, whilst Hayley mumbled and took a small sip in response.

After placing his glass back on the minibar shelf, Harry sat back against the luxurious leather seating, sitting much closer to Hayley than he was previously. He rested one hand on his knee and reached upwards with his right arm, smoothly placing his arm behind Hayley's neck, draping it around her shoulders. There was no nervous and unsubtly arm yawn like most teenage boys – Harry Osborn knew what he wanted and now that he was free, he could have it.

He felt the girl stiffen under his touch, so he slowly stroked her shoulder with his knuckles. Hayley relaxed slightly and sighed but then quickly downed her champagne, wrinkling her nose in disgust at its sickly sweet taste. She needed some liquid courage it seemed.

Harry took the empty flute glass from her small hands. "Do you not like champagne?" he asked whilst putting the glass on the minibar, "It is rather sweet, but the perfect customary celebration drink."

"I thought you'd prefer a White Russian," Hayley responded cynically.

She turned to finally look properly at Harry for the first time since they had left the courthouse. Then Hayley offered a sweet smile dripping with mocking under tones, knowing that Harry knew exactly what she was referring to. It probably wasn't wise to goad him, but she'd had enough of being made to look like a fool.

"Don't be sarcastic Hayley, it doesn't suit you," Harry snapped back, gripping her shoulder enough to cause her a small amount of discomfort.

The two then started bickering.

Manners relaxed into the plush limo seat and sighed heavily to himself; he thought there might be some backlash from Hayley once she realised what they'd done. Though, he was pleasantly surprised that she was verbally sassing Harry instead of him, especially since he was the one who tricked her into signing the binding document.

For now, Manners was content in watching the pair argue whilst he sipped on more victory champagne. As long as she didn't start on him…

"And you!"

Damn, Manners thought.

"You had no right in making me sign those papers without properly explaining their content to me!" Hayley seethed, waggling an accusatory finger in the lawyer's direction.

"It's not my fault you failed to read them, you can't fight with me on this Hayley, you won't win. I am a lawyer," Manners countered smoothly.

Hayley looked at the man exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"I did ask you if you would do anything to make sure Mr Osborn was freed," Manners reminded her, glancing over at Harry who had an uncharacteristic warm smile on his face, "And without your signature on that document, he would be back at Ravencroft."

"He would?"

Manners nodded.

"I knew I could count on you Hayley," Harry whispered in her ear, squeezing her shoulder so that her body inched even closer to his.

Then he gave her a quick but firm peck on the side of her head. He could smell the raspberry scent of her shampoo on her copper locks. A tingling warmth coiled deep inside Harry and he smiled to himself before looking out the car window.

Not really knowing how to respond, Hayley also cast her eyes towards the window and watched in silence at the buildings and cars zooming past in a blur. It was only when Hayley saw the corner shop where she bought her Pot Noodles, did she realise that the limo was in down town New York.

"Erm, where are we going? Why aren't we at the Osborn Manor yet?" she asked suspiciously, untangling herself from Harry's arm to get a better look out the window.

They were four blocks away from her apartment.

"What sort of person would I be if I didn't give you a lift home?" Harry said simply.

"But I thought – "

"I think we are all tired from court, don't you?" Manners interrupted as the limo came to a halt outside her apartment.

"This is where you live?" Harry asked, shuffling to sit directly behind Hayley so that he too could stare at her apartment complex through the limo window.

Hayley blushed in embarrassment, "Yes. It's not much but you know, it's home I guess."

She moved away from the glass and unintentionally hit her back against Harry's chest, not realising he was so close. He felt warm and solid against her thin frame, and Hayley could feel his heart pulsing against her. The faint aroma of, no doubt, an expensive cologne ghosted to her nose as she felt herself getting lost in the comfort of being close to Harry again after so long…

Hayley quickly reached for the car door handle.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Harry commanded with a smirk as he leaned back against the leather seating. He felt a sudden emptiness to not have her in his arms, though the warm tingling where she had touched him remained.

"Yes, tomorrow" Hayley called behind her as she stepped out of the limo.

Manners leaned forward and held his hand out towards the girl, "Here's my card. Come by the office after work tomorrow and we'll take it from there."

And after Hayley took his card, Manners shut the car door closed.

The limo didn't immediately move off until she had entered the building complex. All the while, Hayley could feel Harry's eyes looking intensely at her from inside the car. And he was not the only one. Many passers-by had stopped to observe the expensive car, not used to seeing such wealth in the area. Their judgemental eyes made Hayley feel very uncomfortable.

She made a mental note to never let Harry give her a lift home ever again – down town New York and wealth don't mix well.

Hayley glanced down at her watch, cursing herself because she was going to be late to work. Sleep had not come easy that night, making it extra hard for her to wake up this morning. She had even resorted to counting sheep to stop the endless thoughts of Harry invading her mind.

So being completely shattered this morning meant that Hayley had missed her usual subway connection, and the second and third because all the carriages had been full. Hayley had even tried to buy a newspaper on her way to the subway station but the corner store didn't have any. The one time she actually wanted to read the newspaper and they had all sold out! There wasn't even any spare lurking around on the subway; everyone in her carriage seemed to be reading a paper but her. Therefore Hayley pulled out her IPod and blasted some old school Metallica into her ears.

After the first three songs, she became very aware that many people in her packed carriage were staring at her, some even pointing and whispering. Hayley quickly turned down the volume on Master Of Puppets, thinking that maybe they could hear the heavy guitar rifts and insane drum beat. She didn't want people thinking she was some weird antisocial commuter. Though the staring was really starting to get on her nerves.

Did she have some smudged makeup on her face?

Even with the volume on low, the whispering and gawking persisted. When the person next to her actually prodded her arm and started mouthing what she presumed to be abuse, as she still had Metallica exploding in her ears, Hayley decided that she'd had enough. She stood and walked away from the weirdo before running out of the open carriage doors – fortunately the tube had stopped at the station before her usual one, which was only six blocks away from Ravencroft instead of two. Well, she was already late and a few extra minutes weren't going to make it any worse.

When Hayley finally made it to the Nurse's station in Ravencroft, everyone was already sitting at their desks, quietly working. No one looked up when she entered or offered their usual "hellos".

Odd.

From a distance, her desk was just how she'd left it the previous day, neat and tidy. Except for a lone newspaper, folded to show the front cover top story image.

That was even more odd.

Her heart fluttered inside her chest as Hayley carefully picked up the newspaper to see… her.

The Daily Bugle's top story, "Osborn Freed" was accompanied by a large coloured picture of Harry leaving the courthouse, his arm draped over Hayley's shoulders with his face turned to her, speaking in her ear. He had a charming smirk on his face and his crystal blue eyes were looking directly at her with an emotion that Hayley couldn't quite place.

Underneath their image was a sub headline "Mystery girl: Osborn's newest nurse girlfriend."

And painted directly below the title in red lipstick was the word "Whore" in crystal clear block capitals.

Hayley felt her mouth go dry and her stomach lurch as her eyes started to sting with tears.

"Who wrote this?" she asked loudly, spinning around wildly to stare at her colleagues.

Becca and Cheryl both looked at each other and started sniggering behind their hands, while Nurse Cadence silently sipped on her morning coffee avoiding any direct eye contact with Hayley.

Spying that the two giggling girls were both sporting red lips, Hayley sighed heavily in anger, and rustled the graffitied newspaper in their direction. "I'll ask you again. Who wrote this?"

"You did," Cheryl said spitefully with a nasty grin before catching Becca's eye and dissolving into catty laughter.

"I'm sorry?"

Cheryl turned in her seat and stood to face the redhead, "I said, you did, Haley."

"My name is Hayley, you stupid blonde idiot!"

"Oh, I know what your name is. Everyone in the state knows your name and how much of a whore you really –"

Not wanting to hear any more, Hayley threw the scribbled newspaper at Cheryl's gloating face, and fled the room.

Becca screeched after her, "Who knew being worthy was code for Osborn's personal fuck buddy…"

Rushing down corridor after corridor, Hayley noticed that just like the subway, all the other doctors and even some of the guards were staring at her and whispering. It was almost too much to handle but Hayley willed herself not to cry. She had someone to see before she lost her nerve and she could not cry in front of him. Hayley needed every ounce of courage left in her to speak with Doctor Scott.

When she entered the North wing, her heart was in her mouth and she had to swallow back the small amount of bile in her throat; it was one thing to think about talking with the doctor, but it was another to be in the same room as him, which hadn't happened since court. However, Hayley knew that if she was ever going to speak her mind, it was now.

With pure adrenaline keeping her from shaking, Hayley walked as confidently as she could towards Doctor Scott, who was speaking with Doctor Poland and a few lower physicians.

"Doctor Scott, could I please have a word with you in your office?"

Not even having the decency to turn towards her, Doctor Scott waved a dismissive hand in her direction.

Hayley swallowed thickly, "Now, please."

"I have nothing more to say to you than I did in court," the doctor said shortly.

"I am not here about that," she shot back, "I want to file a report against two nurses for their bullying and down right unprofessional behaviour towards me -"

"HA!"

"I'm sorry but what is so funny about that?"

"Let's be professional here - this is not the school yard Miss Carmichael, we do not tattle on our fellow workers," Doctor Scott said cruelly, finally looking at her. "Well, not unless they're engaging in an unorthodox relationship, which by this morning's front page, I was right in my assumption. Not very professional of you."

"Professional? Professional!" Hayley shouted loosing her cool, "I have a Medical degree in Psychiatry, Doctor Scott, and I have taken courses in psychology, natural sciences and the three core sciences. Not only have I been through the same training as every other doctor and nurse in this building, but my dual licence means that I am highly skilled in psychoanalysis and psychotherapy! You, Doctor Scott, have abused this training by hiring me as only a nurse and then making me use my degree to treat patients, without giving me a raise or promoting me to a resident and permanent psychiatrist.

"And why? Because you dismiss the practise of psychiatry so that you can do as many weird and torturous experiments as you please. You have used me to only treat patients that are required by a court of law to have psychiatric treatment. There are no female doctors in this whole institute! Instead, you belittle us and force us into positions lower than our medical standing - "

"Excus –"

"I am NOT finished," Hayley yelled, silencing the older doctor. "You, Doctor Scott, are a sexist, sadistic, megalomaniac! That is my professional diagnosis of you!"

"Don't bother coming in tomorrow," Doctor Scott snarled, "Because you are fired!"

"Good! Working for you is beneath me," Hayley retorted, taking off her lab coat and slinging it to the floor in disgust. She placed her fallen handbag back onto her shoulder and stormed out of the North wing, thankful at having the final word.

She hated that man, despised him even. That pretentious bastard had it coming! Thank god she'll never have to see him again.

But when Hayley reached the foyer of Ravencroft and handed over her security pass, life suddenly became very real. Being fired meant never having to step back into the institute's haunting walls. And as she took a breath of fresh air upon exiting the building, Hayley felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders; she was free.

She turned back to get one last look at the menacing building made of cold brick and steel; it was a cage that not only housed the criminally insane, but its walls concealed the secrets of monsters. Monsters that used the darkness of man to cause chaos and destroy the very men they used as conduits. Everyone is capable of darkness for it lives inside us all. It is those who chose to act upon it that are the real monsters.

Hayley shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as the still summer air turned chilly with a sudden gust of wind. In this morning's haste she had forgotten to bring a jacket, and her thin black cardigan was a measly barrier against the cool air. She looked to the sky to see the clouds above turn dark and threatening with rain.

Lingering outside Ravencroft was pointless.

Just as she was about to walk away, she caught sight of a familiar figure walking into the foyer and towards the front doors, towards her. Hayley smiled weakly as the automatic doors opened and allowed Colin to step outside before her.

" 'eared you got fired," Colin commented, stating the obvious.

"Yes. Well, it was about time I left. Especially after all…" she struggled to find the right words to explain it, "…all this."

Colin sniffed and folded his arms, "Guess ya gonna work for Osborn now. Papers say ya gonna be 'is outpatient physician or somethin'."

"That is what the court decided," Hayley said slowly, feeling like her actions were under scrutiny yet again.

"Yeah, you keep tellin' ya'self that. We both know the real story hun."

"I did not sleep with him, Colin," Hayley said irritatedly through gritted teeth, "I know that everyone thinks that I did, but I didn't. And I do not appreciate you questioning my morals like every goddamn person I've come across today!"

Colin was silent.

"This is not about me! This is about him. And whether he is well enough to be back in society! And he is! No one believed I could make him well, NO ONE! Not even you Colin. You were my only friend in this dump, and even you believe these horrid rumours about me! And you still believe them now don't you? DON'T YOU?" she asked wildly, her voice becoming hysterical now.

"Only believe what I know," Colin stated simply.

He knew what he'd seen one night; Hayley's flushed face, her lips reddened and swollen, hair a mess. Then he'd heard Harry whistling the Jeopardy tune, which the boy only did when he was mischievously happy – the prison guard could put two and two together, he wasn't stupid.

Hayley couldn't believe his attitude. "You know nothing! You, out of everyone saw how he was with me, how calm I made him, how better behaved he was after our sessions. I cured him. ME! All of you doubted me; you all think I'm weak! But I'm not! I saved him when no one else would. The Goblin is gone, ok? He. Is. Gone!"

"I hope that's true hun, for ya sake I do," Colin spoke softly with sincerity and truthiness coating his every word.

She turned away from Colin, not wanting to look at his judgemental eyes anymore. Instead, Hayley thought about the stuff she'd left behind on her desk in her haste to leave; nothing came to mind. Her notebook with Harry's notes and case files was in her handbag like always. The only real possession left behind would be a second-hand tattered poetry book by Allen Ginsberg – luckily she had another copy at home. No, she had no ties to the institute now. Her only tie was now free – she could leave Ravencroft for good.

Nothing was holding her back.

"Goodbye Colin."

Hayley walked away, stronger than she'd ever felt in her life. But as soon as she exited Ravencroft's threshold and onto the sidewalk, doubt crept it's way into her mind.

The Goblin wasn't gone, and she knew that. It was silly to lie, however Hayley desperately wanted to believe it. Maybe with her continued help the green monster would never resurface. Maybe if she was strong enough she could eradicate Harry's dark side, his dominant and monstrous Id, before the world bore witness to the destruction his own weakness could inflict once more.

Or maybe she was just telling herself all this because there was a tiny part of her, a weak part of her, which thought that Harry could never be saved.

Harry sat in one of the many rooms in the Osborn Manor penthouse. He was on his favourite comfy grey sofa with his hands on his knees, holding a glass of scotch. He was fucking bored.

It had been a long and tedious morning; he'd had a 9am meeting with the OsCorp board and Manners. No one had objected to his reinstatement as CEO, though Donald Menken looked like he'd swallowed a lemon at the news – Manners must have paid him a lot to hold his tongue. They then discussed various topics like the reconstruction of the OsCorp power plant, as well as media control when his position as CEO was officially released to the press in the coming week.

Having to wear proper clothes again, after that horrendous orange jumpsuit, was glorious. Though, he had changed out of the suit he had donned for the morning meeting. Harry was now perfectly relaxed wearing a black V-neck jersey t-shirt and his dark wash denim skinny jeans that looked almost black - it was the same outfit he'd worn the day his life went to shit.

He stared at the blue cushioned chair where Spider-Man, no, Peter had sat and denied him the blood sample, sentencing him to a slow death. Harry abruptly stood and kicked over the chair at the memory. He then flopped back onto his sofa, rubbing his exhausted face with the hand that wasn't clasping the Scotch glass. Opening tired eyes, Harry saw that his empty hand was shaking.

"Fucking illness," Harry said aloud before draining the remaining amber liquid from his glass.

Today, alcohol was his escape. He'd gone from one prison to another, except his childhood home was more stifling.

Nothing in this room was even his.

He didn't particularly like anything in the large room other than the numerous pieces of art that cluttered it. The animal skull with golden teeth was his favourite piece; he didn't know what animal it was but Harry didn't care too much. He only knew that it was expensive.

The open plan room had a floor of pure marble, with a long granite table in the middle, which was used for meetings with the OsCorp board now that he was under house arrest. Huge ceiling high windows that allowed him the best view of Manhattan encased the room. The inner walls were made of smooth mahogany making the room extremely decadent and expensive in a stately home kind of way.

Harry never did know why his father gave the upstairs penthouse to him – probably so that he was out of sight.

Sitting up to refill his glass, Harry glanced at the stack of various newspapers Felicia had brought him this morning. The Daily Bugle was on top with a full-page picture taken yesterday from outside the courthouse. He picked up the paper and left the filled glass on the table beside the remaining stack. Harry saw that the front-page image was of Hayley and himself.

Together.

He smiled. It was the first time he'd seen a picture of himself in a magazine that he hadn't felt disgusted by. All the times before, the snaps taken of him and models, that was all for show, part of the game. But this… Harry couldn't even begin to describe how this image made him feel.

Although Hayley looked stunned in the picture, her body was tilted towards his own whilst his arm protectively held her close. She was beautiful, the kind of awkward yet subtle beauty that could only be captured by accident on film. Her hair was blowing in the breeze, wispy copper tendrils clinging to his shoulder and neck due to their closeness. He remembered what her hair smelt like in the limo.

He remembered the first time he saw her, scared and alert with a syringe in her hand. She had touched him. Boldly touched his skin when no one else would. It had calmed him instantly, though he didn't know why. Her green eyes had entranced his own, because Harry saw a glimpse of something familiar. He'd seen himself reflected back.

Harry gazed back to The Daily Bugle in his hand, and could see that his own documented eyes were sparkling as he whispered in her ear, though he couldn't remember what he had said. They were twinkling with an emotion he didn't recognise, that he'd never seen in himself.

It reminded him of a framed picture he'd discovered the night before he left for boarding school. A young Harry was trying to find a photograph of his late mother to pack in his suitcase; there weren't many around the manor as his father kept them all in his bedroom. Norman Osborn was late coming home from work as usual, so Harry snuck into his room. That was when he discovered the picture.

His parents were standing together, his father's arm slung around his mother's slim waist. They were at some charity ball or benefit dinner because they were both in black tie dress. Norman was staring down lovingly at his sweetheart wife, Emily, who looked stunning in a draped neck onyx floor-length gown. She even wore an expensive Swarovski necklace with green glistening stones. They were the epitome of upper-class perfection.

What caught Harry's interest was not only how beautiful his mother had been, but also the emotion in his father's eyes – he had never seen that look before.

It was like looking at a stranger.

His father had caught him red-handed, throwing him out of his bedroom, a place he was not allowed to enter. Harry never saw the photograph again.

Harry shook his head to remove the painful memories, simultaneously flipping away the bangs that had covered his eyes again. Although the newspaper's image was no doubt suggestive to the public, to Harry they both looked effortless, almost calm among the chaos of the paparazzi. Perfect and uncomplicated.

And yet, they weren't anything but complicated.

In the five months of knowing her, he had broken Hayley's fingers, scared her, threatened her, manipulated her, put her job in jeopardy and her medical license under scrutiny, intimately touched her scars, and called her a monster. He had even killed a man for her. All because he found her hypnotically interesting for some unknown reason.

Why did she keep coming back?

Everyone had left him, but not Hayley. Was it because she was as flawed and as fucked up as he? But he had said to Peter that he didn't do "complicated".

Sure, there was Felicia, his stunning and uncomplicated assistant. There had been a spark once when they first met, he couldn't deny it. Felicia had help him when he became CEO, she had told him about Special Projects, and at times even seemed concerned about him– but it wasn't enough

There was something binding in having someone see you at your worst, at your weakest, and have them not run away. Peter had rejected him at his worst, rejected his weakness, because as Spider-Man, his old friend was genetically superior to he. Parker had strength above mankind and was selfish in betraying Harry when he had needed his friend.

Hayley had surpassed all his expectations of what a friend should be, could be. But what did that mean? Harry just couldn't understand, could not process it all in his alcohol-numbed mind.

Whatever spell she had cast on him, Harry still had the sense to know that being rat-assed drunk when Hayley arrived this afternoon was not a good idea. So he lay back on the sofa, newspaper still in his hand, and closed his eyes. He hoped that whatever his dreams might be, that she be in them.

Thank you to everyone for all your love and support, it means the world to me. Also, thanks for the constructive criticism; I do really appreciate it and when I receive it, I try to take a step back from my writing, think, and work on what you've suggested or picked up on. So, I hope that shows.

To my lovely guest Ainsley, I hope this chap answers your question about Harry's feelings – he has them, it's just going to take a little while longer for our boy to realise it's not about control.

And also to one of my Guests, I agree that it is unprofessional to treat a patient you have a connection with, especially in the case of Erotic Transference, but sometimes you can't help who you fall for – I hope this chapter explains away the other concerns you had regarding her training and ability to treat Harry. And I apologise if Hayley is "on the gate way of mary sue land" – that thought terrifies me! I hope that's not the case! I try to make Hayley as real as possible, and that means she is flawed and a tad emotionally unstable – I write what I know. There is always a reason, even if it is not clear at the time, to how I write her – she needs to hit rock bottom before building herself up for character development.

If you've bought TASM2 dvd, have you guys watched the deleted scenes? The one called 'Peter visits Harry', I totally think they should have included this; it does wonders for Harry's character development with Peter!

Much Love XXX as always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome – MORE HAYLEY AND HARRY TIME next chap!