Featured song: Black and Blue – Carlie de Boer
I do not own Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 movie, TASM2 game or anything related to the Marvel franchise…which is really sad because I'd totally get everyone free merch :D
Also, I don't own Starbucks or get anything for mentioning the company and their drinks in my story – I'm just addicted Starbs!
Plus, some dialogue has been taken from the video game but I have used it in a different context – I own nothing!
They had gone to sleep around six in the morning.
Overtaken with exhaustion, Hayley began to fall asleep whilst they were dancing together, her eyes drooping and breathing calm as he held her in his arms. Harry was surprised she'd lasted this long, that her fatigue had not come sooner.
It was lucky they were still in his room for it allowed him to gently lead her over to his bed, which she gladly laid upon. She appeared even smaller curled up on the edge of his bed, the size of it consuming her tiny form beneath the covers. If it weren't for a shock of auburn hair peaking out the top of the black bedcovers, she would be hidden to all who saw her sleep.
Harry watched her rest as he extinguished all the lights in his room, gradually removing his belt, shoes and tie as he went. Lastly, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt before lying next to her on top of the covers. All he wanted was to pull Hayley into his arms and kiss every inch of her. She was perfect to him; even bruised and damaged, her fragility was alluring and attractive. It felt intoxicating to know that he owned her heart and her love.
She had told him that she loved him.
It was a strange and foreign concept. Never in his life had anyone told him those words. Maybe his mother had before she died, but Norman certainly hadn't. When he was younger all he had wanted was his father's approval, a shred of something to prove that the old man did love him. But that never came. The only love he had known was money. Yet Hayley wasn't spoiled by the love of money, by the greed of wealth – she only wanted him. All of him.
No one had ever given a damn about Harry and therefore he had never cared about anyone in return. However, that was different now.
It was an odd feeling, this love business. It was a sentiment that made him feel very powerful, and he revelled in it.
He tried to sleep, he really did, but instead he lay with his eyes open wide in the dim room, unable to relax with the multitude of thoughts racing through his mind. The thought that two mysterious men had hurt his girl tonight did not sit well with him.
Turning his head, he glared at the pillbox on his nightstand. The box had the days of the week printed on each little lid. None of the lids had been opened and none of the tablets had been taken. He'd have to hide it soon otherwise Hayley would discover he hadn't been taking his pills, and he couldn't have that – she needed to believe the façade. The only drawback of quitting his medication cold turkey was that his hands had begun to shake again and they were always worse at night. At least the darkness would conceal his secret, for now.
Eventually after ten minutes of inability to rest, Harry pulled out his cell phone, the one that those Armour or Shield agents didn't know about. He sent a text to one of the numbers in the address book. It contained a single word, a code word; "Dexter."
Hayley stirred next to him, the light from the phone disturbing the serene gloom of the morning. He quickly stuffed the offending object into the pocket of his suit trousers and slowly rolled off the bed, his movements silent and precise. Quietly, he walked round to where she lay and softly touched her beautiful hair and the cool skin of her neck. It was strange seeing her in his bed. Even stranger still that he thought she looked perfect there, like she belonged.
He quickly left, closing the door behind him, making his way into the lounge before he disturbed her slumber. All the while he shook his head in disbelief at how right being in love felt. For a short period, he sat on the grey sofa in silence, his head in his twitching hands, the light of dawn casting strange shadows through the tall windows and blue organza curtains. His mind focused in on the mysterious mugger while he waited.
He didn't have to wait long.
"Come out Kraven," he said quietly, not even turning to greet the man who stood concealed by the tall pillar behind him.
Harry knew he was there even though he couldn't see him.
"Your senses are sharpening rapidly, you have retained some of your evolved abilities," came a gruff voice with a distinctive Russian lilt.
Although harsh, the man's voice had an elegance and air of superiority to it that only belonged to someone who was self-assured and confident.
"Yes. It appears so."
"But you did not call me here to discuss your returning powers, I fear," replied the man, stalking into Harry's eye line as he went to stand over by the window.
Neither man had met before, previously only having contact via telephone or through Fiers, though Kraven had observed the young Osborn many times since his release. Any good hunter would watch their prey before deciding whether to go in for the kill. However Harry was no prey, he was a powerful ally, a worthy and strong apex predator like himself. They both wanted to same goal - to eliminate Spider-Man.
Harry regarded the Russian coolly from the sofa; the man certainly lived up to his name, looking every bit a hunter one possibly could.
Sergei Kravinoff, better known as Kraven the Hunter, was an intimidating man.
He was tall and well built, his defined chest muscles glistening in the morning sun, though two large white scars disrupted their perfection. Another scar ran from his forehead, over his right eye and down to his cheek, giving the hunter a rugged and dangerous presence. A thick brown beard, moustache and sideburns surrounded his youthful face, with the hair on his head matching in colour and density. Although he appeared to be in his late thirties, Kraven was actually over seventy years old. He regularly ingested a potion made from jungle herbs that he learnt from Shamans during his time tracking jaguars in the Brazilian jungle. The potion granted him a number of superhuman abilities, though the effects had dramatically altered his appearance over the years, slowing the aging process.
Kraven was wearing camouflage cargo trousers with an ivory handled hunting knife sheathed on his belt. The man also wore other hunting trophies; around his neck were leather ribbon necklaces with a variety of white teeth and claws from animals he had undoubtedly killed. A large sandy coloured fur gilet cover his back and shoulders - the garment had been crafted from a lion pelt, the animal's majestic mane surrounding Kraven like a king's crown. Descendent from Russian nobility, his charismatic nature stemmed from his intent to prove himself worthy of such an ancestry - he was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth like Harry.
This man was a killer, and Harry couldn't help but smile gleefully at this particular member of Project Sinister.
"We have a situation regarding a mugging. You need to keep your men in check," Harry said seriously, his face portraying an unnatural stony hardness that had only been seen in the depths of Ravencroft.
"What makes you think he's one of mine?"
"She mentioned he was Russian."
"And you automatically think he is connected to me? You offend Mr Osborn," Kraven chuckled, folding his arms across his burly chest. "I have my own code; I'd never pick on prey so weak, only those who prove worthy opponent. But, the same cannot be said for those thugs Sytsevich uses. We may be of mother Russia, but I am no friend to that beast!"
"Do I sense dissention in the ranks?"
"I work with him only at your request. Make no mistake, that brute and I are not the same. I am top predator! And he? Such bumbling buffoon! He brings a bad name to strong animal."
"Indeed, he is rather ungraceful," agreed Harry, remembering seeing the high-tech battle armour on the news and thinking how clunky it was in the field. "But we need him, and I do enjoying the chaos and challenge he brings to Spider-Man," he growled with a smirk.
"He is challenge only in size. Make no mistake; the spider will beat the rhino," Kraven advised, years of survival and predatory observation leading him to his conclusion.
Plus, the hunter had a dislike of automatic weapons. They required no skill to use, which was why he had refused every OsCorp weapon offered other than a huge multiuse crossbow.
"That may be, though I'm sure he has his uses even to you Kraven. Imagine having to command such lowly adversaries as the Russian mob and gangs." Harry knew Kraven preferred to leave the politics and gang organisation to Sytsevich – the man was a lone wolf.
"His destructive rampage does give me opportunity to study the spider's weaknesses."
"Always a silver lining my friend. Do a recon of the Bowery, check to see whose area that is and let me know," Harry ordered.
"Of course." Kraven mulled over the situation in his mind trying to understand his fellow predator's intentions. "Strange for lion to protect a lamb."
"She has her uses," Harry replied nonchalantly, preferring to keep business and pleasure separate, though it was becoming clear that that might prove impossible in time.
"Strange for a lamb to lie with lion…unless the lamb thinks lion is domestic cat?" Kraven observed the young billionaire who rolled his eyes at the statement. "Your secrecy intrigues me, Mr Osborn."
"She may not know the whole truth of my current state but she knows enough. It's too dangerous for her to know everything!" Harry snapped, jumping up from where he sat – he didn't need to justify his actions. "Regardless of her involvement, I am still the Goblin! I will not turn back into that whiny trust fund baby! I am strong! I am superior to Spider-Man!"
Kraven stared at the young man's power hungry green eyes, the pale morning sun causing his wide seething smirk to glint like a lit jack-o-lantern. "You will be strong enough to defeat the spider," the hunter remarked steadily, not rising to meet the younger man's venom. "I will make sure of that. I can make you what you were meant to be. I can make you true hunter."
Glaring at the stoic tracker, Harry flipped his fringe off his face, which no longer appeared mad and crazed. He spread his arms wide, now calm and serene, "That's all I ask."
"And what of my payment? What news of this lizard, ah, Connors?"
Harry sat back down on the sofa. "Hmmm? Yes, he's being moved back to Ravencroft at my suggestion – "
"Hush!" Kraven signalled sharply, staring at the closed bedroom door, "Hush, the lamb approaches."
With the stealth and prowess of a tiger, the Russian quickly made his way into the shadows.
The doorknob rattled as it turned slowly.
Hayley was uncertain what had woken her, only that now she was awake, all the memories from the last twenty-four hours hit her like a tonne of bricks.
Even if her remaining sleepiness allowed her to move, she couldn't because of the pain and soreness emanating from practically everywhere on her body. No, moving would be stupid. Moving would mean that all the terrible events that felt almost surreal had actually happened. She wanted to stay in her protective ball underneath the covers, hugging her pillow for comfort. Blatant denial would keep her safe. Blocking out everything that made her want to scream and hide would keep her safe. Forgetting the gala and the events that followed would keep her safe.
Yesterday never happened.
And yet it did.
All of it had happened and there was nothing she could do to change it. She had tried to fight, tried to stop the mugger, but in reality, she was powerless. She hated being so weak.
Yesterday had happened.
She yawned and carefully stretched her body, wincing at how much it hurt to do so. For a brief moment she had elapsed to remember that she was at Osborn Manor, curled up in a bed that wasn't her own. She was in Harry's bed.
Heart fluttering nervously, Hayley peaked out from her cocoon of covers, unsure whether or not she had company next to her. She frowned and sat up upon seeing that Harry wasn't lying next to her. In fact, he wasn't even in the room!
Maybe that was a good thing. Hayley had absolutely no idea how she was meant to act around him now that she had confessed her love. The feeling was mutual because he had said it back… but would it change things between them? What would it mean for her continuing to treat his condition?
She groaned and flopped her banging head back onto the soft pillow. It was too early to sort through these life-changing thoughts. As she lay in silence, Hayley was certain that she could hear muffled voices from behind the bedroom door. It was almost soothing, lulling her back into that dozy place between waking and sleeping.
Hayley quickly tumbled off the bed, forcing herself to go investigate before sleep overtook her once more – she didn't want to be alone anymore.
"Harry? Who…who are you talking to?" came Hayley's small voice as his bedroom door opened.
She was beautiful even partially under the influence of sleep, her wild hair glowing like a golden halo when it caught the sun's rays. Whilst she shaded the sudden glaring light from her eyes, the brightness exposed the bloodied cut on her cheek.
At some point after he'd left her she must have removed her black dress, for she was only wearing his white shirt. It was almost fortunate that she had such a tiny frame because the buttoned shirt came down to her knees, covering anything to revealing – she wasn't to know that they weren't alone. Harry drank in her drowsy state, wanting nothing more than to run his hands all over her and rip off the shirt that drowned her.
When his eyes lowered to her legs his heart almost stopped. Her knobbly knees were decorated with angry black and purple bruises, their hue almost blue from the light shimmering through the cerulean curtains. Her porcelain skin was ruined with grazed and shredded areas from when she was attacked. The long black dress had hidden the true extent of her injuries, and they were even more shocking the morning light. Harry was also slightly concerned at how scrawny her legs were. No wonder everything looked baggy on her.
"Did I wake you?" he asked softly.
"Mmmm, yawn, maybe. I can't remember. What time is it?" she asked rubbing her tired eyes, which still had a faint trace of smudged makeup around them.
"A little after seven."
"Who are you talking to at seven in the morning?" Hayley mumbled incredulously, leaning against the doorway to support her tired legs – she really wasn't a morning person.
"I was on the phone. OsCorp business," Harry lied eloquently.
"Hmm? On a Sunday? OsCorp needs to leave you alone on the weekends. Can't be good, yawn, good for your stress levels."
"You look tired doll. Go back to sleep, I'll join you in a minute."
Harry felt a sense of pride and ownership as a blush appeared on her chest at the realisation that they had shared his bed earlier. She gazed at him through half-lidded weary eyes, her thick eyelashes fluttering, unknowingly giving him that come hither look that all girls possessed. If Kraven weren't lurking the shadows, he would have grabbed her and kissed her senseless on the sofa. The other thing that dampened his sexual frustration was his intense anger for the man who had given Hayley those awful bruises and cuts.
When the bedroom door was shut tightly and she had gone, Harry turned to stare at the spot where he knew the hunter was hiding,
"Such damage on such a delicate flower – only human beings are that wilfully cruel," Kraven commented woefully, choosing to stay in the shadows. "True hunters wish to conserve the natural world and its innocent beauty, I can see why you wish to protect her."
"Find him."
"Criminals are not unlike beasts; they have hunting grounds, specific behaviours…I will locate this dishonourable animal."
"Good. See that you do."
The wooden floor never made a sound as Kraven stalked towards the door to leave. The only sound betraying his presence came from when he opened the squeaky door that led out into the corridor and towards the window from which he entered earlier.
"And Kraven," Harry called out quietly to the hunter, "When you do find him, notify me immediately. I want him to know my rage. Personally."
She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Luckily her long nap didn't bring any bad dreams, so when she did wake around 10am, she was well rested and ready for whatever the day might bring. To her surprise and disappointment, she was still alone in Harry's bedroom. However, he must have returned from the rest of the penthouse because the curtains were now drawn letting in the warm sun. The large wardrobe was also open, along with a couple of draws on the dresser.
He must already be dressed and in the sitting room, Hayley thought, and here I am practically half naked in his bed!
There seemed like no better time than now to get up and start the day anew. Hayley looked around at her dirty and crumpled dress on the wooden floor, which she couldn't remember even taking off. She was beginning to panic, thinking that she had no clothes to wear, until she had a brain wave – her clothes from yesterday were still in the adjoining room where she got dressed for the gala. Sure, wearing yesterday's clothes again wasn't ideal but that was her only choice.
She stepped gingerly off the large bed, the muscles in her feet throbbing, her legs cramping in resistance to her sudden movement. There was nothing she could really do except shuffle towards the bathroom, ignoring her bodily pain. Staying in bed was not an option even though that sounded like heaven to her. All she wanted was to put on some familiar clothes, her own clothes. It's not that she wasn't grateful for Harry's shirt, but it really was too minimal and light to wear all day. Plus she felt really exposed with nothing on her legs. She needed trousers. Yes, trousers were a must, and her favourite black skinnies were calling her from the other room.
With her mission for clothes at the forefront of her mind, Hayley didn't register that someone was using the bathroom until she'd already entered and closed the door behind her. Apparently the thick mahogany doors were sound proof against the hum of the shower.
"Shit! Er…I…erm…sorry! I was just…my clothes are…I didn't hear…I'll just…I'll just go now!" Hayley half stammered half yelled over the loud gushing of the shower.
She hurriedly covered her eyes with her hand and quickly spun round to exit they way she came. Her legs resisted her and she slipped on the damp floor landing on her bum.
The shower turned off.
"Ah, are you ok?"
"Yes! Yes, I'm fine!" she called brightly, mentally cursing her stupidity. Standing gracelessly, she no longer cared about what she looked like now that she'd just made a fool out of herself. She clamped her eyes shut, needing to use both hands to support herself in case she fell again. "Just carry on like I'm not here!"
"How can I when you're so wonderfully distracting?" Harry sighed, wiping the wet hair from his face to get a better look at her – she should really wear his shirts more often. Especially since the moist atmosphere was quickly turning the white shirt see-through.
"What?" Hayley called, opening her eyes, forgetting for a millisecond where she was.
Her green eyes snapped straight to Harry's icy blues, trapping her in their searing intensity. It was like he could see into her very soul, like he knew exactly who she was and what he meant to her. All Hayley could do was meet his mesmerising gaze and search for similar emotions, but their inner strength gave nothing away.
She had to keep looking into his eyes otherwise her own would start to wander. Especially since she knew that the walk-in shower was encased with clear glass. Hayley remembered that when using it last night, she thought it resembled a transparent Tardis or the glass elevator from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Seeing Harry in the buff was more than she could handle right now. She had seen his chest when examining him in the past but somehow this was different.
Somehow, confessing her love had made her even more shy and anxious. She really was a prude. The funny thing was that Hayley could handle nudity or awkward moments in a working environment, however, not so much in her personal life – she was a walking contradiction and she knew it.
Harry blinked, which snapped Hayley out of her thoughts, freeing her from the most penetrating staring contest ever. But now her eyes were no longer focused they slowly started to lower of their own volition. They went straight to the wound on his neck and then they followed the water droplets as they ran down his bare chest…
"See something you like? Or are you just going to stand and stare at me all day?"
"No! I-I mean yes! Yes…No! I-I-I'm going now!" Hayley stammered, mentally smacking herself in the face at how stupid she sounded.
Racing into the adjoining bedroom, she closed the door and let out a big sigh of relief. She giggled, suddenly feeling foolish for how childish she was acting. It's not like she hadn't seen his naked torso before, it was that the whole situation seemed ever so slightly sexual. It was lucky the bathroom had been so steamy because the head-high glass panels of the shower had misted up, masking his lower half.
Thank god for steam, Hayley thought, thank god for steam!
With her anxiety fading, Hayley wandered over to the dresser to pick up her discarded clothes. She unbuttoned and deftly shimmied off Harry's shirt and retrieved her bra and oversized band tee. The soft jersey of her Metallica t-shirt felt so comfy against her bruised skin, and even her black skinny jeans softly encased her sore legs. Hayley was all about understated comfort. It had been fun to dress up for an evening, but she preferred her minimalist look and her minimalist lifestyle.
Looking in the mirror, she was relieved to see that practically all her makeup had washed off in last night's shower. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and her hair appeared to have become a tangled mess. She'd never seen herself so vulnerable and broken. It scared her slightly.
Life had becoming increasingly complicated since knowing Harry Osborn, and even though it could be frightening at times, she wouldn't change it for anything. Well, she'd change being mugged, obviously, because if that could have not happened then that would be great. But other than that, she wouldn't change anything. She had fallen hard for Harry, and if that meant enduring situations that were out of her comfort zone, then so be it. Hayley would be there for him and she wouldn't leave no matter what.
There was no fool-proof plan for being in love.
Sighing heavily, Hayley pulled on her scruffy black Converse and a large long wool camel coloured coat, which had belonged to her Grandma. She tied her unruly hair into a messy bun and decided, now that she was dressed and felt more like herself, that she could take on the world. Well, she could take on the rest of the day at least.
Hayley decided to take the long way to the lounge area to avoid bumping into another potential naked Harry in the bathroom or bedroom.
As she sat relaxing on the grey sofa, her stomach growled which was unusual for her; maybe all the running around and stress was making her hungry. She was determined to ignore it since it was eleven o'clock and waiting 'til lunchtime seemed the best idea. The news was playing on the television and Hayley could see a "Breaking News" alert informing viewers that OsCorp had been broken into again. A shipment of military grade equipment had also been intercepted and stolen from the docks. No wonder OsCorp had contacted Harry on a Sunday.
"Are you, ah, avoiding me?" he asked casually, leaning against the doorframe, cool as a cucumber, regarding her closely with his eyebrows raised.
"No, I just thought you might want some privacy," Hayley blushed, looking down at the floor.
She practically jumped out of her skin when Harry came up behind her, leaning over the top of the sofa. He put his lips to her ear and she had to resist the urge to close her eyes.
"Oh? Privacy?" he hummed beside her ear, "I've seen nearly every inch of you, and now you've seen all of me, I think privacy is out the window for us." Harry reached forward to cup her face from behind and gave her a firm kiss. "I have nothing to hide from you."
He kissed her again, sliding his tongue over her lips, the sensuality eliciting a small soft moan from her. The kiss was strong yet demanding, like Harry thought he would never see her again. It commanded her fully attention, making sure that she knew how intense his feelings for her were. Their position was making her dizzy and her neck ache but she didn't want him to stop.
Hayley's stomach growled again loudly, breaking the kiss as Harry chuckled lightly against her lips.
"Hungry?"
She blinked up at him, damning her stomach to hell for taking his rosy lips away from her. "A little."
"I'll call Connolly to go fix us some breakfast," he said with smile, playfully prodding the messy bun atop her head, in a way that reminded Hayley that he much preferred her usual ponytail style.
"Sounds good," she breathed, smiling back at him. When he turned to leave freeing her neck from its cockeyed position, Hayley could see a wound peeking out from beneath the short sleeve of his black t-shirt. "Before you go, I need to do your vitals!"
"It's a Sunday, I think the scientists at the lab will forgive you," he replied curtly in his business voice, not turning to look at her. "Besides, I'm sure you're too tired from last night."
"But it'll give me something to focus on other than last night," she pushed softly, knowing how much he really hated the thrice daily check ups. "Please Harry."
Hayley could almost see the internal cogs of his mind decided whether to give in or gently refuse her. If the wounds on his body were spreading then she needed to inspect and tend to them. She was certain that there were multiple ones on the lower half of his chest – the steam from the shower had obscured his form but not the recognisable pale green colour of new lesions.
Sighing in annoyance, Harry turned back and sat heavily next to Hayley, a childish scowl on his face. He folded his arms and stared at her expectantly, wanting it to be over before it had even begun.
Shortly after working full time treating Harry at Osborn Manor, Hayley had begun to leave her physician bag of medical tools and first aid supplies in the lounge area. It was perfect for times like this, especially when the check up times altered every day depending on his meetings or her commitments in the OsCorp laboratories. Plus, carting around the heavy bag was doing her back in.
She took off her coat and perched on the coffee table across from him. Next, Hayley pulled out said bag from beneath the table and started methodically working through each criteria of the examination. She wrote down every reading and minute detail like she did every day, and Harry didn't put up much resistance since he had grown accustomed to all her poking and prodding.
However the scowl never left his face.
"Right, take off your shirt."
Harry stared at her with a bored and disgruntled expression. "You know I only have the one on my neck."
"I haven't checked you since Friday, so there could be more."
"I don't see why you're doing this. You never check me on the weekends."
"Well, the lab thinks I should start to and I agree with them," Hayley tried again, hoping that he wasn't going to fuss anymore. However his face clearly said otherwise. "Look, Harry, I know you have new ones because I saw them when you were in the shower."
Immediately his whole face softened and he cocked an eyebrow. "So, you were looking?" he asked playfully, a smug grin on his face.
"Fine. I was," Hayley admitted truthfully, wondering if he enjoyed making her life so difficult. "And it's good job I did! When were you going to tell me?"
"When are we going to talk about last night?"
Hayley felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. The colour drained from her face and her green eyes narrowed. "That is not the same," she stated, her voice unusually hard.
"You need to be more careful," Harry continued ignoring her. "Now that your face is known, you can't just put yourself in danger like walking home in the dark. Powerful people hate me and they will do anything to see me fall. That means they will want to hurt the person closest to me, and that's you. You are my weakness, Hayley."
He waited for her to say something.
"Come on, don't look at me like that," he sighed as she continued to glare at him, "Look, I want you to take Pete or James when you go places, it's not safe for you anymore."
He was met with more silence.
"Hayley!" He swiftly grabbed her arm and pulled her from the coffee table and onto the sofa so that she was straddling his lap. "Don't ignore me when I'm trying to talk to you about something serious!"
"And don't you change the subject when I'm trying to do something serious."
"If I let you examine me, will you take a bodyguard everywhere you go, and talk to me about last night?"
"Yes."
"Ergh, fine. Examine away," Harry said rolling his eyes, making out that she was the one making all the fuss.
He then removed his hands from her back, which he had kept in place to stop her moving from his lap. Harry was pleasantly surprised when she remained and started to push his t-shirt over his head.
When it was gone, Hayley stared and stared at how green and sore his body was with fresh sores.
"Oh Harry," she whispered, her hand going to her mouth in shock. It was worse than she thought.
His skin had turned slightly jaundice around the infected areas with angry reddish black thready veins surfacing near the worst wounds. The biggest two, on his left pectoral and lower abdomen, were a gooey weeping mess where the sensitive skin had started to disintegrate. A further five small lesions, which had begun to yellow and scab over, were surrounded with dry skin breakage. His on going wound on his neck had the worst damage, with dried blood and bruising where he'd been obviously scrubbing at it in the shower. Upon closer inspection, Hayley could see that even his face had a very slight greenish tinge to it.
How had it got this bad in the space of a day?
"Just get on with it," he mumbled, desperately trying to convey an air of indifference to the severity of his ill body.
As before, Hayley carefully and painstakingly cleaned each wound in turn, using antiseptic wipes and cotton pads to remove the gunky fluid. Then she dressed them with the large ones requiring sterile gauze and bandages, whilst the small dry ones only needing plasters. While she worked deftly, Harry barely moved, only his breathing giving away whether or not her actions caused him discomfort.
When she made to move from him, his hands that had been loose on her hips, suddenly squeezed, holding her in place again. Hayley looked at him questioningly but all he did was lean forward so that his back no longer flat against the sofa. Hayley shook her head at how ridiculous he was being but didn't say a word in protest. Instead she pushed her body closer to his so that she was able to check his back from where she sat. If anyone were to look at the pair, they would appear to be hugging.
Glancing over his shoulder, Hayley was relieved to see that his back didn't have any big wounds. The ones on his back and lower arm were only small and a lot less advanced in comparison to his front. She administered a cooling cream and large plasters to them, like she had done previously with the small owns on his torso. Even though her examination position was unusual and difficult, Hayley was certain she hadn't missed any.
With the last plaster in place, she started to notice that the hands holding her hips were becoming increasingly painful. Just as she was about to complain, Hayley felt Harry's thumbs start to rub her skin in a small circular motion. The overall feeling of pain and pleasure was not one she wanted to stop. Instead, her breathing became heavy when a sudden tingling sensation on her neck made her realise that he was kissing her there. For a moment, all Hayley could do was sit still and let her body react to him. She didn't even notice that her hips were slowly rolling until Harry let out a heated groan.
"Harry, I've finished," Hayley whispered tentatively, knowing that he probably hated having his shirt off with his green body on show. She leaned back from him and smiled as he gratefully put his shirt back on. "See that wasn't so bad."
When she made to move off him again, Harry wrapped his arms around her back, trapping her against him. "You may have finished," he breathed darkly, "But I haven't."
A loud cough made them both turn sharply towards the source. Standing over by the large graphite table was a tall man wearing a fedora and trench coat.
"Excuse me for interrupting, Mr Osborn," Gustav Fiers said slowly, his voice clear as a whistle even though it was fairly quiet, "But we have some urgent business to discuss."
Harry removed his hands from the redhead and sat back against the sofa, smirking widely. He simply stared at Hayley as she quickly got off his lap and almost fell over in the process. His piercing blue eyes followed her every movement, completely ignoring Fiers until she stood next to the sofa, unsure what to do with herself.
"Hayley, why don't you go get us breakfast from Starbucks," he ordered softly, looking away from her to focus on Fiers.
"Um, ok, what do you want?" she asked uncertainly, her eyes flicking from the sofa to the table and back again, trying to get a read off either man.
Something was going on, that she could tell, but what she could not say.
"A latte or something." Harry waved his hand at her dismissively, not really listening as he regarded the tall man strangely. "Just take your time…. And take Pete with you."
Hayley nodded and picked up her discarded coat, quickly shuffling past Fiers as she made her way to the corridor. Even close up, it was hard to see all the man's features because of that damn shadow cast by his fedora. All she could get was that he had sharp cheekbones.
As she closed the penthouse door behind her, Hayley managed to catch Harry's first sentence to the shadowed man;
"What's the status on locating our electrical friend?"
After a barista come to get her drinks order, Hayley stood in the long queue at Starbucks, thinking.
The rapid decline in Harry's physical condition had to have been caused by stress. It was the only rational conclusion she could come to. And, she had undoubtedly caused that stress by being stupid and jumping out of the cab.
She looked up at Pete who stood imposingly beside her.
If Harry felt better knowing that she was safe with a bodyguard then she wouldn't refuse their assistance. Pete and James weren't that bad, just stern looking and quiet because they were constantly assessing for danger. Heck, they may seem scary but they were just doing their job. Hayley decided that she even welcomed Pete's presence in Starbucks – she felt too afraid to be alone right now, even if she was in a public place. It wasn't just the terror of last night's attack making her anxious, but also what Harry had said about bad people wanting to hurt her because of her association with him.
Hayley glanced around the café, suddenly paranoid that there could be hidden assassins or muggers lurking in the queue or sitting at the tables. She couldn't shift the feeling that everyone was staring at her. The news was playing on a TV above the till area, so she decided to focus on that instead.
The OsCorp break-in was a popular topic it seemed, as well as various videos and images confirming more sightings of the Rhino, who hadn't been seen since his attack on Alphabet City. More footage of the violence was shown along with a scene of the Rhino fighting Spider-Man. Hayley listened closely to the reporter, Whitney Chang, who commented that the public were still divided on the vigilante's loyalties to the city.
"Online polls still show a decline in public sentiment towards the web-crawler, which has been unmoving since the release of billionaire Harry Osborn – "
"Tall, Grande or Venti?"
The barista's question snapped Hayley away from whatever Whitney Chang was talking about. She considered the question for a moment. Usually she never went to Starbucks because she simply couldn't afford it, but now OsCorp paid her exceptionally well, she might as well splash out every now and then. Plus, Harry had requested this chain specifically.
"Er, Venti please. And could you make the Caramel Macchiato with soya milk, and can the other have all the special cream and syrup please? Thanks."
The blonde barista nodded, taking Hayley's money and motioning her and the bodyguard to wait by the serving area.
They'd only been standing for a few moments before she flicked her eyes up to the commanding man beside her. "Shit! Pete, I'm sorry, I didn't ask you what you wanted. I'll join the queue again and get you something."
Pete's brown eyes showed a small amount of surprise at her concern and generosity, but he quickly pulled back on his stern façade. "No drinking on the job. But, thank you Miss Carmichael."
She shuddered at her last name. "Call me Hayley," she said kindly before going back to staring at the TV while they waited on her drinks.
Spider-Man swung back onto the screen, crawling on buildings evasively around the armoured Rhino. Hayley thought how odd of a life it must be for the masked vigilante. Leading a double life for anyone would be hard, but to be in the public eye and battle criminals? It would certainly take its toll on the man. Or woman, or whoever the Spider-Man was.
It made her think of Peter Parker and how different he was acting last night.
Whilst she had initially been shocked and scared at his uncharacteristic outburst, now upon reflection, she felt guilty. Peter's grief had been so tangible and here she was being with the man that for a long time had been considered Gwen's murderer. He had every right to be angry with her. In his eyes she had betrayed him.
She had to talk to Peter and get to the bottom of whatever this feud was with Harry. There was more to the story than just two friends parting ways, of that she was certain. She couldn't ask Harry directly, and even Peter seemed guarded about the subject. It was like there was a big secret that only she was blind to. This secret had torn them apart; to understand and help either of them, she would have to discover what it was.
"Oh my god! Are you Hayley Carmichael? I saw you in today's Daily Bugle! You looked a-ma-zing at the gala last night!"
"EEK! I cannot believe it's you!"
Hayley started at the noise, suddenly noticing two young girls around the age of sixteen excitedly standing before her. She blinked back at them unsure what to do or say.
"Lacey, look, she's wearing Converse!"
"O-M-G! I like totally have the same ones at home!" Lacey shrieked back at her friend.
"Look! Look! You're on TV!"
The enthusiastic girls pointed to the screen that was now displaying footage from the gala.
The camera paned up and down the red carpet before focusing in on Hayley looking dazed by all the attention. On the screen you could see Harry talking to her before his back went straight and then suddenly he was twirling her away from him and back again. Then the camera zoomed in for a close up of them kissing, and the two girls next to Hayley squealed in animated excitement.
But Hayley ignored them, far too busy watching the footage as it played again. She tried to decipher a single familiar face in the crowds of paparazzi directly behind "screen" her.
At the exact moment where Harry's demeanour changed, she could now see whom he had been staring at, plain and clear on the screen; Peter Parker.
"Annie, aren't they like totally adorbs?" sighed Lacey.
"I know right?" Annie replied, taking out her cell phone, "Could we please, please, pretty please get a selfie with you? Our friends won't believe that we actually met you!"
Hayley took in their eager and pleading faces, and she glanced around the café, realising that everyone was staring at her. She started to feel faint, like the air was getting thin, and she stumbled a little. Pete was there in a shot, grasping her arm firmly.
"Sorry girls, no pictures," he commanded sternly, his voice held no room for compromises.
But at the sight of their disappointed face, how could Hayley refuse?
She nodded to them and forced a bright smile on her face. "Was it Lacey and Annie? Of course you can take a picture, I'm more than happy to."
Hayley nodded to Pete who rolled his eyes as the squealing girls shoved both their phones into his hands. She put her arms around the girls and was surprised at how much zealous energy they were emitting; they were trembling with excitement. They were acting like she was some sort of celebrity.
Yet again, she remembered what Harry had said about people knowing her face. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that ordering a drink would be this complicated.
Once the pictures were taken, the girls took back their phones and grabbed their ready juice drinks from the counter. Each of them hugged Hayley before skipping off, chatting animatedly about how much they loved her.
"Order for Hayley, two hot drinks!" shouted one of the baristas.
Pete grabbed the beverages from the counter and shoved them into the stunned redhead's hands. Then he firmly pushed on her lower back, steering her past all the customers who were now taking out their phones and snapping pictures. They hurried out of the overcrowded Starbucks, fortunately with no one following them.
When they had walked a couple blocks and were insight of the Osborn Manor, Pete turned to the girl who was silent beside him. "Feeling alright?"
"Will it always be like this? Does…does it getting any better?" she asked blankly, clutching the hot drinks like they were the only things grounding her.
"It will be worse, much worse," Pete replied honestly, "But that's why you've got me and James. We'll keep you safe when Mr Osborn can't."
When she arrived back at the manor, having climbed up the various staircases with the still warm lattes, she was ecstatic to see the lounge area was empty other than Harry. Thank goodness Mr Fiers had gone; she still really didn't trust the man, even though he had helped her in the hotel. Hayley had a strange feeling about him, and it wasn't a feeling that she was comfortable with.
She slowly approached Harry, who was leaning forward on the sofa, his head in his hands. Manila folders were littered all over the coffee table, with papers covered in statistics and schematics strewn in uneven piles.
The place looked like a bomb had gone off.
"Harry?" she called softly, unsure whether he even knew she was there.
"Hmm?"
"You look stressed," she said with concern, placing the steaming beverages on a small square of clear coffee table, before sitting down beside him. "Ready for a pick me up?"
Harry looked at the two takeout cups, uncertain which one to pick as they both had her name marked on the side. "Ah, which is mine?"
Picking one of them up, Hayley sniffed the lid before taking a sip. "Blergh! That's definitely yours!" she spluttered handing it over, desperately trying to ignore the shakiness in Harry's hands when he took it from her – she knew he wouldn't appreciate her commenting on it.
He regarded the cup carefully, sniffing it like she had done. Smiling widely, he then took latte to his lips and drank the mysterious liquid, letting out a satisfied sigh once he was done.
"How did you know I like Pumpkin Spice lattes?"
"Lucky guess," she said with a shy smile, picking up her own drink to stop her hands from fidgeting at the small white lie.
What Hayley didn't mention was how she rang Felicia on the walk to Starbucks, practically begging her to know what his favourite drink was. Never in her wildest dreams did she think Felicia would actually give her the correct information.
"Good guess," Harry smiled, taking another gulp of the warm spicy liquid. He relaxed and rested his arm on top of the sofa, capturing a small lock of hair fallen from the bun on Hayley's head. "You know, your hair is kind of like a pumpkin."
"W-What?"
"Well, your hair colour is anyway. You're like my very own pumpkin," he mused.
"And a Goblin needs his pumpkin," the Goblin commented darkly in Harry's ear.
"You are simply hilarious Harry," Hayley said sarcastically but with a smile, liking how fondly he spoke of her. "Pumpkins are for Halloween, and we've got another month 'til then. Though, I do remember my parents dressing me as one when I was nine…trick-or-treating is so much better here than when I was in England," she spoke softly, the memory of times before the fire making her feel melancholy.
Harry took that as his cue to ask the questions that had been bothering him all morning.
He put down his latte and took her hand in his, staring deeply into her green eyes. "Tell me what happened. Why did you leave the cab so far from your apartment?"
Hayley felt like a rabbit caught in headlights with no place to run to.
She chose her next words carefully. "There was a guy and he…he asked to share the ride with me," Hayley said slowly, winching slightly as Harry's grip tightened on her hand, "But then he started to act weird and he freaked me out so I just bolted." Swallowing thickly, Hayley stared into his piercing blue eyes, "I guess I wasn't thinking properly."
"And this guy, who is he? Was he even from the gala?" Harry's jaw clenched and he frowned deeply at the knowledge of some other man being anywhere near his lady.
"I think he was, I'm not sure, it's all a blur, I'm not sure who he was…" Hayley tailed off.
Technically that wasn't a lie; she didn't know whether or not Peter had actually attended the gala inside the hotel, and truth be told, she didn't know who he was anymore.
"Did he chase you?"
"No –"
"But you ran?"
Hayley nodded and bowed down her head – she didn't know what else to say.
"What about the man in the alley?"
"I don't want to – "
"Hayley, the cops are going to ask the same questions. If you can't tell me, then how will you tell them?"
She sighed with sadness and drank some of her stone cold Macchiato, trying to prolong the inevitable. "I can't remember much. I don't think I want to remember," Hayley said, her voice steady but void of any emotion. "It was really dark but I could see the tattoos on his knuckles from how he was holding the knife. They reminded me of the ones on Alexis Sytsevich. And he was Russian too, I could tell from his accent, his voice sounded cold…"
"What about his face, Hayley?" Harry pressed again – he needed something valid to aid Kraven in locating the mugger.
"I don't want to see his face, please Harry, I can't!" Her eyes automatically closed at the thought, a slight crack entered her voice.
Harry took the coffee cup out of her hand and put it beside his on the table. Then he placed his hand gingerly on her injured cheek, the one that bastard had cut.
"You're scared, I get it, but I can't help you if you stay silent."
"I think he had a broken nose, like those boxers that have been punched too many times," Hayley recalled, fighting her mind to not shut down and go blank every time the muggers face appeared. "And if he didn't then he does now. I think I smacked him before it all went black."
"You shouldn't have even tried to fight him off! What were you thinking?" Harry chastised, taking her face in his hands. "You should never have left – "
"I know, I'm sorry – "
"No! It's my fault! I should have never let you leave! I should have been with you the whole time!" Harry shouted angrily, leaping up from the sofa. In a rage he swept his hands across the coffee table, papers flying everywhere, the takeout cups spilling their contents. "Fuck!"
Hayley didn't know if he was cross with her or himself, it was hard to tell. She was too busy trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes in case they started turning green.
Harry exhaled sharply, glaring at the mess he'd just created. "Come here Hayley," he said a little too harshly, offering his hand to her. When she took it, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. "I want you to stay the night again," he ordered softly, "I don't want you anywhere near your apartment alone. I need you, here, with me. I need you to be safe."
With the decision made that Hayley would be staying another night, Harry had sent her off to her apartment to pick up extra clothes and toiletries. He wanted to come with her, but he was still under house arrest. So she had taken Pete and James with her instead, though she made them wait outside whilst she packed her things. Her apartment was a mess and it was pretty embarrassing in comparison to the finery of Osborn Manor.
In the car journey to and from the Bowery, Hayley couldn't stop her mind from wandering. All she thought about was how one stressful night had made Harry's physical manifestation of Retroviral Hyperplasia go from fairly good to unstable. If she hadn't checked on him…no, she had checked him and that's what mattered.
But if she wasn't around him every second of every day, then how would she be able to monitor his stress levels? Even Harry's anger, an almost tell tale sign of the Goblin's return, seemed to be creeping back into every day conversation. His condition needed to be controlled; she needed to manage his illness better than she had been.
Maybe her colleagues at the OsCorp labs were right, maybe she needed to be with him constantly to give round the clock care. What if something happened, a stressor of sorts, when she wasn't there? Then what? He could be sent back to Ravencroft.
If his condition today were anything to go by, then it wouldn't be long before he fucked up.
His pocket started buzzing and Harry retrieved his cell phone. He stared at it for a minute, eyes narrowing at the unknown number flashing across the screen. Only a specific few had this number, which made him instantly suspicious. He let it ring out five times before the mysterious caller decided to leave a voicemail message.
"Answer the bloody phone, it's me!" came the annoyed gruff voice of his lawyer.
Harry rolled his eyes as the phone began to buzz again. "Is this line secure?" he barked seriously, reluctantly answering the phone.
"Yes!"
"I thought I told you to only to call this number from your cell."
"Look Harry, it's been a long night, I'm hung over, I've got a banging headache, and my secretary has my cell," Manners retorted loosing his patience. "I'm using my home phone which is a secure line. Ok?"
"Fine," Harry muttered, flicking the bangs from his eyes, "Get to the point of this conversation. Quickly."
"Have you seen the papers?"
Harry paused and glanced at the pile of day old newspapers now scattered over the table and floor – they had not yet been replaced with todays. "No."
Chuckling sarcastically, Manners continued, "Of course you haven't. Because if you had, you would know why I was calling." The lawyer breathed out a long sigh, trying to control his voice, which was becoming louder and more bitter by the minute. "The gala is the focus of every paper, obviously. But guess who is on every front cover? Go on, guess!"
"Oh, I don't know Manners…Spider-Man?" Harry replied rolling his eyes at how ridiculously stressed out the lawyer was being.
"No. It's you. And Hayley," said Manners, his voice shaking with anger. "The Daily Bugle has a ten page spread of gala photos, and you both take up eight of those ten pages. Eight! And The Manhattan Mirror is calling Hayley "the radiant Osborn gem." A fucking gem, Harry! Like she's some expensive jewel or something! And there is even a spread dedicated to her fashion choices!"
"How interesting," responded Harry, not really paying any mind to Manners having a breakdown.
All he could do was smirk at all the media attention; they saw what he did.
That Hayley was his.
"Harry? Are you even listening? Time Out magazine is calling you the "power couple" of the moment!"
"Really?"
"No. I was just checking you were listening. Come on Harry, think! This is a dangerous game you're playing here and you need to be smart."
"Manners – "
"No! Don't you Manners me! This isn't just you're life, this about hers too. You have your name and fortune to hide behind. She has nothing! Nothing! If something happens – "
"Nothing will ever happen," Harry said firmly - he would protect Hayley no matter what.
"Good." Manners paused, trying to let all his anger fade away – he was getting another migraine. "How is Hayley anyway? The hotel informed me after you left."
What Manners neglected to say, was that the hotel rang the police when he threatened staff after finally noticed Harry's absence. He only knew about the situation because the police officer that came to arrest him was the same one who took Harry down to the station earlier. Luckily, the officer was also a contact of Manners, so after a bit of persuasion the hotel dropped the charges. A little bit of cash had been splashed to keep the incident hush hush.
"She's a bit, a bit distant, sad I guess," Harry sighed rubbing his forehead.
He was worried for her, unsure how to take away the emptiness behind her eyes when she recounted her attack. Even her speaking with her normally, Harry felt like her spark had been diminished. Wasn't telling her he loved her enough?
"That's understandable after what she's gone through."
"Is it?" Harry then filled the lawyer in on everything the police had said at the station and what Hayley had told him earlier.
"Jeez, Harry. Any idea who the guy is that mugged her?"
"I have someone locating him now. He will be taken care of."
Manners paused. "As long as you can't be linked back to it, that's all I ask. What about the guy from the cab?"
"She was pretty vague, but he will be found eventually."
"Ok. So after the station, what happened? Did the police take her home? Did they set up a patrol car outside her apartment?"
"I took her to mine – "
"HARRY! What did I just say about being smart? God damn it!"
"Need I remind you that she was mugged last night, you idiot? She asked to stay with me because she was scared. It wouldn't be smart to refuse would it?"
"Hmmm. Fine." The lawyer's migraine was getting worse by the minute and Harry's sarky childish behaviour wasn't helping. "Just don't make it a regular thing. We don't want to give the press any more ammunition. No one can doubt her ability to treat you. Besides, if the press thought she was living with you, then God help us."
"Remind me again why you have four TV's?" Hayley asked, popping a piece of warm shawarma meat into her mouth. Apparently the food was one of Harry's favourite foods.
When Hayley had returned from her apartment, Harry could tell that she was visibly shaken from having to go back there. He cursed himself for still being bound to his own home, but seeing her so upset and distant only made him hunger more for the mugger to be found. Kraven had texted with the news that he was following a gang of five who patrolled the Bowery. However, they were keeping a low profile due to the heavy police presence in the area. The news pleased Harry immensely, though he wished that he could please Hayley and put a smile on face.
So to cheer her up, he decided they would order in a takeaway and watch The Cornetto Trilogy movie marathon that was on one the special movie channels you had to pay for.
They had moved the coffee table and slid round Harry's favourite sofa so that they were able to see the multitude of televisions more clearly. He had even made Connolly find a few candles to create a nice romantic atmosphere. Harry Osborn knew how to wine and dine a lady.
Currently they were sitting curled up under a blanket watching Hot Fuzz, which was Hayley's favourite of the trilogy because it reminded her of living in England. She liked explaining the differences between British police and American cops, and Harry was more than happy to listen, especially with that pretty smile back on her face.
"I have four in case I want to watch more than one thing," Harry said simply, like the answer was obvious.
"Only girls can multitask like that Harry," Hayley teased lightly, her bright but shy personality finally making a return. "More than one TV in a room is a little excessive."
"I'm sure the interior decorator had a reason other than getting more money from my father…" He turned to look at Hayley whose face looked doubtful.
"Really?"
"No. Probably fed the old man that Feng shui bullshit all decorators are obsessed with."
"Now you're pulling my leg," Hayley giggled struggling to keep herself from full-blown laughter. "What the hell is F-Fungshway?"
"It's when you arrange furniture in a room to bring balance to the environment or something," Harry replied seriously, "And possibly aligning your chi with the elements to – "
Hayley howled with laughter, tears of hilarity running down her face. "Oh my god, I can't, I can't take you seriously! I'm sorry, but, ha ha ha! Fangchway? It sounds, he he, it sounds like shawarma with a fungal infection!"
Harry couldn't help but chuckle along with her. He was completely entranced by the way her eyes sparkled and how her hand touched her nose, unconsciously trying to conceal her mouth when she laughed. It was the first time he had ever seen Hayley laugh properly and he felt a strange sense of honour that he was the cause of her happiness. It was a beautiful thing to see her joyful again, especially considering last night's events. He had hated witnessing her cry, to see her vulnerable and stripped down to a shell of a person.
That would never happen again; he would make the bastard bleed.
When her fit of laughter ceased, Hayley settled back into watching the movie. The food had been wonderful, a delicacy she'd never eaten before, but it was extremely filling. So she placed her half full plate on the floor with Harry's, and leaned her head against his shoulder, snuggling into his side. She was conscious not to touch or irritate his bandaged wounds, so she put her hands on his leg.
Almost immediately, Harry snaked his arm round her waist and pulled her down with him so that they were lying on the sofa. The sudden movement knocked the television remote from his lap and onto the floor, the plastic buttons pressed, changing the channel. However, Harry didn't care what was playing on the screen, instead focusing his attention on kissing Hayley who was squirming above him.
He caressed her face as he deepened the kiss, causing soft little humming noises to tumble from her lips. The feeling of her dainty hips circling made his hands more demanding, his kiss more insistent. He needed to feel her, he needed to touch every part of her, he needed her, he needed all of her. Harry slid his hand beneath her t-shirt, running his fingers delicately across the cool skin of her back. He was delighted when she trembled and broke away from his lips to moan louder than she ever had before. It was almost too much for Harry to bear.
Hayley started to push at his own t-shirt and Harry hurriedly removed it, noticing that her pleasure-glazed eyes were drifting to look at something other than him. So he pulled her face back to him, capturing her mouth again. He wanted to be her only focus in that moment.
"Oh my god, Harry!"
"Hmmm…Hayley…"
"Harry, look!"
"Can't. Too busy kissing you."
"Harry, I'm serious, look!"
"Are…you going to…hit me with…your handbag if I don't," Harry teased kissing her after every couple of words.
"Harry!"
Suddenly he could hear the pure panic and alarm in her voice, and he noticed how she was no longer moving along with his body, her own now turned away and shaking. He looked up to see her eyes fearful, the hand not limp on his chest covering her mouth in shock. Following her gaze, Harry saw that the TV screen displayed a myriad of bright amber colours, the news focusing on a building being torn apart by flames.
Harry shifted where he lay, reluctantly untangling himself from the redhead so that he could grab the discarded remote. He stood, aiming to get a better angle to turn up the volume, before a soft hand grabbed his own urgently.
"That's the apartment block next to mine!" Hayley whispered, her voice trembling with every syllable as she stood beside Harry, her hand squeezing his. "What if, what if mine catches fire, what if…Harry! Look!" she cried, pointing at the screen.
And so his concerned eyes left her tear-streamed face and returned to the TV.
The screen displayed the Rhino shooting bullets and missiles into a tall building fully ablaze with orange flames licking inside and outside smashed windows. The footage was shaking, showing viewers that the report was live, with people screaming heard in the background. Cops were everywhere, shooting the mechanised criminal from behind the safety of their cars. It was unclear whether or not the Sytsevich was just fighting the cops or something else off camera.
Yet the Rhino was relentless, causing multiple explosions continuously, his power never wavering.
"I can't go back there, I can't go back there, I can't go back there," Hayley repeated over and over, quickly becoming hysterical again. She turned and flung her arms around Harry's neck, sobbing into his shoulder. "I can't go back there, I can't go back there."
"Hey, hey, it's going to be ok," Harry soothed, gripping his arms tight around her. "You're safe. You're safe here. You're safe Hayley."
Lifting her head so she could see his eyes, Hayley searched those all knowing icy blues, finding comfort in their honest stability. She quickly pressed a kiss to his lips. Her heart was racing again. Maybe it was the adrenaline of seeing destruction so close to her home, or maybe it was because her nerves were tingling with the anticipation of the question on the tip of her tongue. The question she had been considering for days, no, weeks now.
"You're safe with me, Hayley," Harry repeated, rubbing small circles on her back.
"Harry, I can't go back there, I can't, it's too dangerous there, I know that now," she rambled, trying to make sense of her thoughts. "I need stay with you Harry."
"Yes I know, you're staying night, we discussed that earlier - "
"No, I mean, I need to stay here. Please can I stay here…for good?"
Harry stared at the redhead for a moment taking in her pleading green eyes. She wanted to stay with him. She wanted to live, here, in Osborn Manor… with him.
"Of course, doll," he replied quietly, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips. Hayley melted into him as he held her close, not wanting to let go now she was his. "You can stay as long as you like."
She rested her head against his shoulder, fresh sobs wracking her body as another explosion boomed on the TV screen. Relief and fear overwhelmed her and she clung to Harry like he was the only person left in the world.
And he was.
He was the only person she had.
Harry rubbed her back and playfully fiddled with her auburn hair as she continued to cry upon him. More destruction glowed on the screen, illuminating his face. He was grinning madly, eyes blooming with green specks as he watched the sinister devastation unfold, his girl in his arms.
And when Spider-Man swung into frame, he held her tighter and mouthed:
"Mine."
The tension between them is even killing me! There is method to my madness of teasing you all, trust me, it will happen before the new year!
To check out Kraven's voice and face, look up TASM2 video game on YouTube and you'll get a sense of him. Also, if parts of how I've described him kind of sounds like Bane (Batman), check out what he looks like on Google. When I was writing his character description I was like "Nooo! Why is he kinda the Marvel equivalent of Bane?" They are both completely different characters, but certain aspects of their appearance are similar… damn comic parallels!
Any who, love to all you readers, followers, favouriters, reviewers, and appreciation lurkers. More excitement to come, hope you're all enjoying it so far - I have a lot planned for this fic!
MUCH LOVE XXX