Featured song: Touch - Daughter
I do not own Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man movie, or anything related to the Marvel franchise.
This chapter was meant to be part of chap20, but I split it in two because I am evil and possibly stupid!
Hayley rushed down the hallways trying desperately to locate a restroom. Tears were starting to fall from her eyes and all she wanted was to be alone.
Filled with panic, she felt only a small sense of relief when she spotted a door with the word "Women" in swirly gold lettering. She quickly dashed through the door and was happy to see the restroom empty.
Upon entering a toilet cubicle, Hayley fell against the wall and slid down to the floor. She brought her knees to her chest, hugging them tight. Sobs wracked her body and she whimpered as her mind flashed an image of Harry's solemn rejected face before her.
What had she done?
I'm so stupid, Hayley thought, I shouldn't have done that.
She grabbed at her head trying to quell the memories of her hasty actions. Her hands tightened around her skull, pressing harshly into her temples, jostling her perfect updo.
"Idiot. Idiot. IDIOT!" Hayley wailed into her knees.
She had rejected him. No, rejected the Goblin, but ultimately, yes, she had rejected Harry.
It had been so long since the Goblin had emerged that Hayley had almost forgotten that he existed.
Almost.
Her psychiatrist mind viewed the Goblin as just an extreme form of psychosis, an Id excelled into existence by the spider venom Harry had injected into his body.
However, Hayley knew it was more complex than that.
The Goblin was someone she had come to know during his incarceration. He wasn't just another patient, he was an individual with a vibrant personality, so interesting and captivating. In the beginning, Hayley often forgot that underneath the green skin and erratic violence, there was actually a damaged young man buried deep inside. Extremity was normal in Ravencroft, and criminals were their psychosis, they were that corrupt and sickeningly evil – it was in their blood. It was who they are.
Hayley had never met Harry Osborn or even noticed him before the Goblin took away Gwen, though she knew now that to be untrue.
During his treatment, she would ignore the person inside and focus on the green monster that murdered her best friend. The Goblin was not a psychosis to her. He was a person and was corrupt and evil.
But then he proclaimed that Harry was dead. That was the moment she realised that the Goblin was not just a monster, that before everything had gone to shit, he had been a person. He had been Harry Osborn.
And so over the many months the Goblin had disappeared and Harry reappeared. He became human again, no longer a crazy criminal. It was refreshing to find some normalcy within the confines of Ravencroft. Hayley had seen something in her patient that she could relate to. She had seen herself.
Now it had been so long since she'd actually seen traces of the Goblin that it had shocked her, rocked her to the core. In such a compromising position it had honestly caught her off guard. She had always imagined that if the Goblin made a reappearance, then it would be when Harry was either angry or stressed. Definitely not when he experienced passion, and, erm, other things.
Seeing his psychosis again was not a good sign. Her treatment of him, their therapy, his medication, something was flawed. It had been scary for her to witness the electric shock tortured that he endured at Ravencroft, which had made Harry temporarily disappear - she never wanted that to happen to him ever again. And it would happen if she reported the Goblin's return.
Hayley tried to wipe away her tears but they never seemed to end, her fingers now covered in salty water and smudged makeup. Her heart ached in her chest as shame and guilt washed over her; he had never rejected her.
Just like she had never rejected him.
Until now.
She remembered back when the Goblin had toyed and teased her in the beginning of their relationship. His pure lust was intimidating, frightening even, but nothing short of intriguing. The darkness he possessed resonated with her, made her tremble with anticipation, feel things she had never felt…but it was only with Harry that she had actually begun to explore those feelings. The Goblin had opened the door and Harry had shown her the way through.
Hayley had thoroughly enjoyed the lust filled moments with Harry in Ravencroft, so why had she stopped when the Goblin emerged?
Because she liked it.
Hayley's heart belonged to Harry, yes, but she also loved the Goblin…
I love them both, idiot, they're the same person, Hayley thought, his psychosis is part of him.
What worried her is whether loving his psychosis was morally wrong. Her inner psychiatrist thought so. And that was why she had stopped – because she loved being with the Goblin in that moment, and that was potentially wrong and dangerous. Especially if Harry and Goblin were anything like Jekyll and Hyde; aware of each other's existence but blind of their counterpart's actions.
Hayley stomped her feet on the porcelain tiles and tried to calm her breathing. She wished everything wasn't so damn complicated!
For one moment, in that passionate moment, she had forgotten who he was, who she was, who they were. However they simply weren't just an ordinary man and woman; it was far more complicated than that.
He was Harry Osborn, a young handsome billionaire, with a chip on his shoulder exacerbated further now that he was an orphan. And from the ashes of his father had risen a monstrous psychosis wrapped in deeply rooted green anger.
He was also the Goblin.
She was Hayley Carmichael, an ordinary girl with extraordinary copper hair, which seemed to burn brighter since she had become an orphan. And in the wake of her parent's fiery death, she had turned to knowledge and medicine to uncover the depths of her darkest secret.
She was also a psychiatrist, his psychiatrist.
Their relationship was as complicated as it could get.
Picking herself up off the floor, Hayley decided it was time to leave. Crying in the toilet wasn't getting her anywhere and she couldn't bear to stay at the gala any moment longer. All she wanted to do was go home, splash out on buying some Ben and Jerry's ice cream, and wallow in her own shame and guilt, curled up on her couch.
Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she almost lost her nerve, wanting to retreat back into the cubicle. Her face and chest were blotchy, ginger hair now scruffy, and she looked like a panda with her eye makeup completely smeared. And what was the purplish blotch below her ear? Hayley blushed at the hickey, though smiled slightly at the memory of Harry's breath on her neck… But one look in the mirror and reality came crashing back. She sighed and untied her hair so it was covering the small mark.
Just as she reached for some paper towels to attempt correcting her makeup, the restroom door opened.
"Fancy seeing you here, Haley!" sneered an unkind shrill voice.
Hayley's eyes narrowed as Becca, one half of the blonde bimbo nurses from Ravencroft, entered the washroom. The blonde was wearing a short black cocktail dress with a keyhole neckline that showed off her ample cleavage. Ruby red lips matched her sky-high rouge heels. The girl knew how to dress her curvy body, though the outfit seemed very inappropriate for such a formal event.
"Surprised to see me?" Becca continued, pulling out a mascara wand from her purse to redress her lashes, "Not everyone has to sleep with someone for an invite." She eyed the redhead nastily, "Though it helps."
Trying to remain calm, Hayley crumpled the now black paper towel and placed it into the sink. "Who did you sleep with then?"
"I didn't have to sleep with anyone. I was invited by Doctor Scott," the blonde snapped, whipping out her Chanel blood red lipstick now that her lashes were painted black.
Becca applied the lipstick slowly and expertly onto her pouted lips, staring Hayley in the eye as she did so.
"Who did Doctor Scott have to sleep with?" Hayley said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. What was he even doing here? She really hated that man.
"Funny. OsCorp Industries funds Ravencroft, or didn't you know? Obviously all the top doctors were invited. Surely your boyfriend would have told you that? Or is his mind too fucked up from being electrocuted?"
Clenching her teeth, Hayley glared angrily at the troublesome blonde.
"Struck a nerve have I? Doctor Scott told me how your boyfriend begged and screamed for you," Becca purred slowly, making sure every word she said cut through like a knife. "I must admit, he is extremely fit, which is why it's so funny that he's with you. You're like the modern Beauty and the Beast, you know, if the Beast was a ginger."
That was it. Hayley had had enough. She scowled at the blonde before darting out the restroom, biting her lip and sniffing to keep the tears a bay.
"Always fun speaking with ya Haley," Becca called after the girl, smirking, before blowing a kiss at her own reflection.
Harry stalked into the en suite bathroom, treading over the shattered porcelain lamp, the pieces crumbling and breaking further beneath his leather shoes. Although the room was dark, moonlight seeped in through a curtain crack, which allowed him to successfully locate the bathroom.
Turning on the light, Harry winced at the sudden brightness. The bathroom was almost as big as his own, but he didn't care much to look at the expensive furnishing. All he could hear was his own deep and heavy breathing, which quickly became erratic as he slammed his fists angrily on the polished ceramic counter. He stood hunched over the sink, carefully resting his head against the large ornate mirror before him. Harry hissed as the bruised area of his head rested on the cool reflective glass.
In his mind, Harry played over what had transpired before and after Hayley's bag had hit him. Every word she said, every minute movement, he examined mentally. He needed something, anything, to latch onto to, to stop the devastating rejection from infecting him further.
Why had she even hit him in the first place?
"Having trouble remembering?" came a familiar voice.
Harry scrunched his eyes shut trying to recollect, but it was all a passionate blur.
"Well I must say, I'd even forget my name if I had that beautiful body trembling beneath me…"
Name…name…say my name...my other name…
Harry banged his head against the mirror as he realised what had transpired. In the heat of the moment - he hadn't even realised that the Goblin had slipped through.
"She probably thinks I'm psycho now," he growled aloud, glaring at his reflection in the large mirror.
"She's our psychiatrist, of course she thinks you're psycho."
"You were stupid coming out like that," snarled Harry, "Do you really have no tact at all?"
"Don't patronise me you little shit," his Id replied with a sneer, "Why did I break free you ask? Because I wanted to…and she liked it – "
"Liked it? LIKED IT? She rejected us! Rejected me! Don't pretend you didn't feel her body tense at your words. Don't pretend that she enjoyed your little appearance in the slightest! If you think any different, then you're delusional, you're blind – "
"BLIND! No Harry, it is you who are blind," the Goblin roared, a manic and satisfied smirk appearing on Harry's lips. "You think you have control over me? I am a part of you Harry. You can't get rid of me. We are one and the same; I will always be here no matter how hard you try to dwindle my existence. I am you Harry and don't you forget that!"
Angrily, Harry raised his balled up fist and brought it down heavily beside his head. Immediately little cracks in the mirror trickled out from beneath his hand along with tiny beads of blood. Removing his face from the fractured mirror, he stared disbelievingly at what he had done.
There was a slight pain emanating from his fist and Harry blinked at the small offending shard peeking out of the flesh on his middle finger. Luckily it wasn't deep. He hadn't meant to hit the mirror that hard. Maybe he was subconsciously trying to silence the Goblin.
"You can't get rid of me that easily," his Id laughed. "Besides, you fail to recall that it was I who sparked her desire in Ravencroft. You were lost then. There was nothing of you left. It was I who captured her heart, not you. Me. You should be grateful that a girl like Ginge even looks at you, you little brat."
Harry glowered at his reflection. The cracked glass altered his likeness causing a double image of his frowning face to be reflected back at him. Even the mirror knew what lay beneath, that what everyone saw was a lie, that the Goblin hadn't disappeared like everyone thought.
It was almost ironic really.
"Regardless," Harry continued breathing steadily, trying to ignore the two sets of his blue (with quickly fading green) eyes reflected back at him, "Hayley thinks, no, thought we were well. We have to appear well to remain free from incarceration. How will Project Sinister continue if we get locked up again?"
There was a pause.
"Good point."
There was another pause.
"She liked it."
"She didn't."
"You can't keep me locked up forever Harry."
"Watch me."
It was starting to get frosty outside, the sky almost thunderous with grey clouds decorating its inky darkness. Although the sky was black, New York was never truly dark, not with the network of ever-sparkling lights glistening from every building. True darkness belonged to the back alleys and deserted parks, not because of the absence of light, but because of the criminals that inhabited them.
Working with the most terrifying of criminals everyday had almost dulled Hayley's sense of danger. She was never afraid.
Apart from that night. The night the Goblin was born and Gwen had died.
She remembered when Electro plunged Manhattan into total darkness, and having to walk back, alone, from being stood up by Gwen. That was the only time she had ever been truly afraid.
Discounting that past moment, that was the reason why she felt happy to leave the gala alone – nothing outside scared her anymore.
Hayley nodded kindly to the doorman who gave her a concerned look. She walked to the curb and stuck out her thumb, waiting patiently for a fee cab to drive to her aid. She caught her reflection in the passing car windows; a shivering pale ghost with black eyes stared back at her. Her dress really didn't keep out the biting cold. The emeralds that hung from her neck felt like iced droplets touching her skin.
Finally a cab pulled up next to her and Hayley gratefully opened the door, happily sliding inside.
"Rough night?" called out the cab driver.
"Yeah, you could say - Hey!" Hayley shrieked as a strong arm prevented her from closing the car door. She quickly moved across the back seat as a tall boy glided in next to her.
"Long time no see," Peter Parker said simply, slamming the door closed after him.
"Hey mate! What you think you're doing?" yelled the cabby, twisting round in his seat to glare at Peter. "Is he hassling you miss?"
"No," said Hayley carefully, "Not yet anyway. Erm, if you could take us to the Bowery area, that would be great."
The driver nodded and turned back around, placing his hands back on the wheel. Then the car moved away from The Waldorf-Astoria and into a stream of heavy traffic.
Hayley sat next to Peter, unsure of what to say. They last saw each other nearly two months ago in court and that hadn't ended well.
"Saw you with Harry earlier."
She risked a sideways glance at her old friend; he looked almost as tired as she did. There were bags under his eyes and he appeared much paler than usual. Maybe it was because of the chill but Peter's face appeared distant, almost stone like. His tone was thick with distain and had a hard edge. And was that alcohol she smelled?
"He looks happy," he muttered dryly, "You both look very happy together. It must be nice to be happy, to find someone you love…I'm very happy for you both."
"We are not together if that's what you're thinking."
"Really?" Peter questioned turning to the redhead, "Because it certainly didn't look like it, you know. I wouldn't want to be seen kissing a criminal!"
"He's not a criminal Peter, he was proven innocent," Hayley replied crossing her arms defensively. She really didn't like where this conversation was headed.
"No. No, no, no, no, no! You see, if he were innocent, then he wouldn't have gone to Ravencroft! How can you not see that?"
Peter began to move around in his seat, his hands flying around animatedly, his finger pointing at Hayley accusingly.
"He was framed Peter! Spider-Man framed him – "
"No! Regardless of what the court said, I know, I know, that's not what happened!"
"How? How do you know that Peter?" she implored, wishing that she could find sense in his frenzied words.
"Because I know…I know because…argh, I just know, Hayley, I can't explain it!" he practically yelled, slamming his hand against the back of the front seat.
"HEY! Settle down back there or I'll kick you out!" shouted the cabby.
"Well, try, try to explain," Hayley said quietly, her voice full of exasperation. When Peter fell silent under her questioning gaze she shook her head at his stubbornness. "He's your friend Peter. Why can't you be happy for him? Why can't you support him? I just don't understand!"
"He betrayed me," Peter mumbled, a faint trace of a pain in his words. "He's not my friend anymore,"
"I know, but why? Why, Peter? I just don't understand."
"There is a lot that you don't understand! He took my hope away! He took Gwen away!"
"Peter, you need to deal with your grief constructively and blame the true killer - "
"Don't you be a…a shrink! Don't you shrink me! Harry is guilty!"
"No. Spider-Man is!" she tried to explain calmly; though it was taking everything she had not to match the angry vigour in his voice.
"It wasn't him, it wasn't! He didn't do it, he didn't! He tried, oh god, Gwen, I tried…" Peter rambled, getting caught up in the pure pain of trying to attest his alter ego's innocence. "He's the monster Hayley. Harry is a monster!"
"No. You are the monster Peter. And I've had enough!"
Reaching for the car door on her right, Hayley released the door handle.
"Hey! Hey, Hayley, what are you doing? Carmichael? Stop! No, STOP!"
Hayley quickened her steps as she ran down the deserted streets, hearing the clack of her heels pounding on the littered asphalt. She turned at a yell of her name resonating loudly in the silence of 4am. Her ankle twisted as she slipped on the wet curb, the pitter-patter of rain quickly drenching her hair and skin. The pain was only minimal but it stopped her enough to realise that she was lost.
They hadn't quite reached the Bowery area when Hayley had leaped out of the semi-stationary cab. All she wanted was to get away from Peter and his nasty words. She hadn't noticed how far from home she really was.
Her name could be heard again; Peter must be chasing after her.
Hayley started to run again not caring where she was going.
She ran for what felt like an age, pushing herself further and further.
The adrenaline was kicking in, enabling her to ignore the now nagging ache of her swollen ankle, though it wasn't help much with her speed. She was never one for track and it was starting to show. Her breathing was thick and accelerated; her dainty but firm strides were loosing their initial quickness.
At the sound of heavy footsteps gradually gaining on her, Hayley dashed down a dark alley in an attempt to escape. She crashed into a fallen trashcan and landed with a thud on the damp and smelly ground. Blood oozed from a scrape on her chin and she looked straight ahead towards the light at the end of the alley. Her eyes were a bit dazed from the fall but her hearing remained strong – the footsteps were almost upon her.
Hayley blinked rapidly and saw a streetlight illuminating a corner shop, the one where she bought her groceries, across the street from her. A small sigh of relief escaped her mouth as she started to pick herself up from the ground. Her legs were shaky and her dress was ripped but otherwise she wasn't too bad.
The footsteps had come to a stop behind her.
"Peter, I really, really, don't want – "
In a flash, her body was pressed against the harsh backstreet wall, a gleaming knife digging into her throat.
"Don't you fucking scream or I'll kill you."
Harry tried to remain calm as he stood in one of the many offices inside the New York City Police Department.
After Hayley had left him at the gala, he had returned to the party and mingled for just over an hour before he had been alerted. A hotel attendant had brought him to the foyer where he spoke briefly with a police officer who had then escorted him to the station. The ride had been relatively short and silent; the only information he learnt was that Hayley needed him.
"Mr Osborn? Mr Osborn, I know you're probably in shock, but Miss Carmichael is fine, just minimal cuts and bruises," reassured Captain Sims.
The high-ranking officer had previously worked directly beneath George Stacy, Gwen's father, and had been appointed this new role shortly after the late Captain's death.
Loosening his tie, Harry stopped pacing, finally having heard Captain Sims' words. "Minimal cuts and bruises? What the hell happened?" he spoke steadily, but underneath the Goblin was demanding to see their girl unharmed for themselves.
"She hasn't said much. Only that she was mugged near her home in the Bowery - "
"Mugged?"
"Yes," Sims continued gravely. "From what I understand she was wearing an emerald necklace at the time, Cartier I believe. And earrings also. The mugger, who she describes to be tall and of Russian decent, held her at knife point and stole the jewels."
Harry began to pace again and ran his shaking hands through his damp hair. It was his entire fault. If she hadn't been wearing the necklace…but why had she left? Was it because of him? The Goblin? What?
"It appears she was being chased, though she denies it."
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Chased?"
"Yes. Her ankle is sprained and swollen, and her feet are a bloody wreck. One of our patrol cars reported seeing a woman matching her description leaving a cab in Midtown. It appears she ran from there to near her home where the incident took place."
Midtown! That was miles from her apartment!
A door to his right opened and a female officer walked towards him and Captain Sims.
"She's ready to see you now," the officer smiled grimly, "She's a bit shell shocked. I'm sure your girlfriend will be happy to see you Mr Osborn."
Harry felt his heart glow at such a comment, but then the moment soured as he thought of something dreadful.
"Did…did she say…he didn't…" He could barely form the words, because if he said it out loud he was certain it would be true.
"She shows no sign of sexual assault," Captain Sims sighed grimly, "The bastard only wanted the necklace and earrings, thankfully. The small cuts you'll see on her hands and cheek are from where she tried to stop him taking them."
"We need to find this son of a bitch, Harry! When we find him, I'm going to fucking make him BLEED for what he's done!"
"She fought back?!" Harry asked, completely bewildered by her actions. He shook his head slightly, trying to silence the Goblin screaming in his ear.
"Yes. It could have ended a lot worse for her. We've had a medic treat her injuries. You can take her home, though we'll want to question her more on Tuesday. We thought two days rest would do her some good."
"Thank you for your help Captain."
Harry loosened his tie some more and undid the top button of his shirt. He walked the short distance from the office into the holding room and closed the door behind him. The sight of Hayley, his beautiful ginger doll, looking so broken before him was completely heart breaking.
She was sat on a cold metal chair, hunched over, with bandages covering her feet and hands. Her warm auburn hair appeared brassy and dull under the harsh strobe lights; strands were sticking together sporadically like a crows nest. He could see a large blood stained dressing covering her pale cheek; the rest of her face was blotchy and black from the crying and ruined makeup. Her dress was tattered and muddy as were her shoes. She even had her purse, which was remarkable given that she had just been mugged.
The Captain had been right; the criminal had only wanted the jewels.
He stopped walking when he was directly in front of her, crouching so that he might be able to catch her eye to announce his presence. The vibrancy of her green eyes was gone, with only the cold and glassy lifelessness akin to a marble left. Harry was too scared to say anything, too scared to touch her, too scared to do anything in case she broke more.
"What did you say?" he whispered gently. Her lips had moved but he heard no sound.
"I'm sorry," she breathed so quietly that Harry barely caught it.
He reached for her uninjured cheek, and he felt able to breathing again when she moved into his hand. "You don't need to be sorry, not to me, not for this," Harry murmured honestly.
"But I lost the necklace, the earrings. I wasn't strong enough to stop – "
"I don't care about that. All I care about is you, that you're safe Hayley."
"They must have been so…so expensive," she wailed slightly, her warm tears dampening his hand. "Didn't they cost like fifty million dollars?"
"Not quite that much," he said warmly. Harry would have smiled at her naivety if not for the current situation. "That's why you have insurance on these things – but there is no insurance on your life, Hayley. Your life is precious. It's precious to me. You shouldn't have fought for something as worthless as that necklace."
"But…but you bought it for me – "
"Never, put yourself in danger like that again. Do you understand?"
Hayley finally made eye contact with him and nodded in response, her green orbs hauntingly sorrowful.
He stroked her cheek and wiped away a few stray tears. "Why did you leave? Was it because… did…did I do something wrong?" he questioned, almost afraid to know the real answer.
"No!" Hayley said so strongly that she made a grab for his hand, but winced at the sudden movement disturbing her injuries. "I ran into Becca in the bathroom. Apparently Doctor Scott brought her. She was just so horrid, and I couldn't breathe, I needed to leave, I just couldn't…it was horrible, I can still feel the knife, I-I-I can feel it…"
"Right! That blonde bitch is dead! Scott's dead for bringing her! And this fucking mugger bastard is dead!" the Goblinthreatened in Harry's head. "You know what? Why don't you just let me loose and I'll go on a killing spree! Everyone in this city shall burn!"
"Shhh, doll, I'm here, they can't hurt you now."
"Yes, you are here?" Hayley questioned slowly, her mind whirring back into life. "Harry, you shouldn't be here! Wasn't your house arrest lifted solely for the gala? You'll get into trouble!" she rambled in panic.
"Calm down, it's fine. The police brought me here and they'll take us home. It's all legit and legal."
Hayley nodded and leant forward so that her forehead rested against Harry's. "Can we go home now?" she whispered, the exhaustion from tonight evident in her voice.
Smiling brightly, Harry reluctantly stood, offering her his hand to help her stand. She took it gingerly, her bandaged fingers and knuckles making it hard for her to grip his hand. Next, Hayley slid forward in her chair and delicately tried to stand, but stopped, hissing in pain. It seemed her injured feet and ankle didn't enjoy the sudden pressure of her body weight.
Walking was going to be impossible.
Harry swiftly placed his arm around her back and picked her up bridal style. He smirked with happiness as she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, subconsciously stroking the hair at the base of his head.
"Home it is."
She had been in there for a long time. Too long for Harry's liking.
Understandably Hayley had wanted to shower when they arrived back at Osborn Manor and he agreed, though semi-reluctantly. Of course she need to clean up but he didn't like the idea of her leaving his sight. Look what happened when she did! He knew that no place was safer than his home, but it didn't stop him from worrying.
He listened intently from where he was sitting on his usual grey sofa. It was quiet. The shower had stopped running twenty minutes ago and she had yet to reappear, so Harry went to investigate.
When he entered his bedroom the first thing he saw was Hayley sitting on the floor, back to the wall, knees curled to her chest, her dress covering her damp body. All her bandages had been removed causing her flesh to look horribly marred by the myriad of bruises and cuts. Little beads of water were running down her face and shoulders where her auburn hair was still wet from the shower. What he noticed most of all was that her dress was being worn correctly; her back was exposed against the wooden wall.
"Hayley?" he called softly, approaching her slowly. She lifted her sore head to regard him giving a small smile when he stroked the top of her head. "Can I get you anything?"
"A shirt would be nice," Hayley said flatly, though her smile never waned.
Harry nodding, understanding her need to cover herself, though he wished she wouldn't. It made him feel sad and a little annoyed to know that she couldn't, no, wouldn't let him in. He wanted to know her and that meant all of her, just like she knew all of him.
He went and plucked one of his crisp white Ralph Lauren shirts from his personal wardrobe, before turning and frowning at her now that she was standing, back flush against the wall still.
"You don't need to hide yourself from me Hayley."
She stuck out her hand, "Harry, the shirt please."
"You don't have to be afraid."
"Just give me the shirt, Harry, I've been through enough tonight. Please."
Harry moved towards her holding the shirt out to her, before snatching it back as she reached out for it.
"This is not a game, Harry. I'm begging you, please give it to me."
"If you show me, I'll give you the shirt," he said slowly. When he tried to reach for her hand in comfort, she smacked her hand against the wall, mimicking his previous actions. "Hayley, please show me! I need you. I need you with me, I need you to trust – "
"Just, DON'T!" Hayley shrieked hysterically. The shocked and disappointed look he gave caused her head to hang in shame, though she held out her hand again hopefully.
Defeatedly, he finally placed the shirt into her trembling and pleading hand.
"Turn around," she requested quietly, but another glance at Harry's unimpressed face and she became frenzied again. "PLEASE! Please Harry," she begged.
When he eventually turned, Hayley moved away from the wall, shrugging on the formal shirt, letting out a sigh of relief now that she was fully covered. The expensive cotton felt soft on her back, a stark contrast to the gritty wall from the alley. The memory made her shiver. However, when she lifted her head, it was Harry's deflated silhouette that had her feeling guilty again.
"I'm sorry," she murmured into his back as she wound her arms around him, her embrace another apology.
"Hey, it's ok, I guess. I was just overcomplicating things," he muttered a little harshly.
Maybe he had been pushing his luck making her wear a revealing backless dress. All Harry had wanted was to show that he didn't care about her scars, that he thought she was beautiful regardless.
"No one can see them. They're hideous."
Harry turned in her arms and cupped her face, "Shhh. Don't say that. They felt beautiful to me."
She tried to back away again, her face stricken at the not so nice memory of when he touched her scars previously in Ravencroft. "That's because you haven't seen them! And you never will!"
"You've seen me at my worst," Harry yelled, suddenly very angry, grabbing her arms and shaking her. "You've witnessed my absolute destruction! And now you refuse to show me yours? How is that fair, how is it any different? I trusted you when I was lost, why can't you do the same thing?" He breathed heavily through his nostrils, trying to calm himself. "All I want is for you to trust me. That's all I ask."
He was right. It wasn't fair. And she knew it.
Hayley could see that behind the anger was a scared little boy fearing rejection, yet again. She couldn't do that to him, not again. The fear of repeating her earlier mistake at the gala strengthened her resolve. So she stared into his questioning eyes and quelled the fear in her own. Her body relaxed in his tight grasp and she nodded, holding her breath.
Slowly, Harry pushed his white shirt gradually off her dainty shoulders and down to the crook of her elbows. Still keeping eye contact, he stroked the soft skin of her arms, working up to her neck and holding her face in his hands again.
He kissed her trembling lips firmly. "Trust me," Harry said simply.
Hayley nodded quickly, bracing herself.
Sweeping his warm hands back down to her shoulders, Harry pushed with a tender yet firm hand so that Hayley turned, finally exposing her bare back to him.
It was a stunning but haunting sight.
At the base of her back were the glass like scars that he had felt previously, the final tips of the large scarring that covered her entire back. It decorated the majority of her shoulders, dissipating towards her bottom. While her usual skin was milky porcelain, the scars were alabaster white with pink shades where the flesh was stretched tight. The original burns had missed her spine, though there were a few scabs along the vertebrae where bone pushed against the delicate and thin skin. The overall effect could be likened to a pair of translucent glass wings draping down her small frame.
Harry thought it made her more striking and intriguing than before. She wasn't green and monstrous like him; she was nothing short of an angel.
He was speechless.
Deciding to show her how he felt, he pulled Hayley, who had been inching away from him, back against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and slackened his hold slightly. Lowering his head, Harry breathed softly over her flawed shoulders, before connecting her cool skin with his hot lips. She squeaked out of surprise rather than protest, and her own breathing hitched at the continuous and marvellous assault of kisses that his lips brought.
Hayley just wanted to feel alive again, to feel normal, to feel something other than the sadness and devastation that her scars carried. His mouth stole her away from everything; his touch reminded her of the lust she had felt, his kiss transcended her to that dark room with only a lamp for light…
She had to put things right.
Gradually she turned back to face him, annoyed with herself for ceasing his unbinding touch, but she had to. "Do you want to know the craziest thing?" Hayley whispered, a sudden blush appearing on her face, "I'm sad that we never got to dance at the gala."
Harry quirked his eyebrow but smirked when she squeaked again as his arms snaked around her waist. Her hands went automatically to his neck, and the two of them swayed slightly to a tune all of their own.
"Harry, what, what happens when the Goblin takes over?" she asked, her green eyes wide with uncertainty - she really didn't want to spoil the moment.
"Why?" he replied offhandedly, his voice not betraying the curiosity he felt at why he was being asked this very specific question.
"Because… Are you in there? Do you see and hear everything around you?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry," Hayley sighed, the guilt of her actions quickly returning, "I'm sorry for what happened in the hotel room."
"Oh."
One look at his ashen face told Hayley that he'd misunderstood. "No! Not what happened between us, I could never be sorry about that," she reassured quickly. "It was wrong of me to leave you like I did…I got…I felt…Can I talk to him? To the Goblin?"
"No," Harry said firmly, his blue eyes serious and almost cold like. "I lost control. It won't happen again."
Hayley leaned her head against his shoulder and waited a few minutes for his breathing and heartbeat to calm – she had obviously struck a nerve.
"I want you to know that I won't reject you again. Or him. He is a part of you…and…I…I love you…all of you."
She had never been enough, not enough of a person, but maybe, just maybe, she could be enough for him.
Harry brought up his hand to her hair and rubbed his knuckles over her ginger strands. "I love you too, Hayley. But I won't loose control again."
"Oh yes you will," whispered the Goblin for only Harry to hear. "Control can go both ways, Harry - you are nothing without me. Project Sinister is nothing without me."
THEY SAID THE L WORD! Also, Peter needs to sort his life out!
Sorry I've been M.I.A, my Internet broke for ten days and then I had writer's block half way through this chap…but then I had a wonderful dream about Dane, so yay, inspiration came back :D
Anyway, my apologies to you my wonderful readers, and also to my reviewers who I haven't responded to yet! As soon as I wake up tomorrow (UK time), I'll be writing to you all…please don't hate me.
But seriously, you guys are amazing, I love you all, you are the best readers ever! Much Love XX
P.S. I updated the story cover image, hope you like!
Also, I don't know if it's the same elsewhere, but in the UK, people tease redheads… Why? God knows. So that's why Becca was nasty about Hayley's hair – what a bitch!