Disclaimer: I don't think it needs to be said, buuut "I do not own Marvel or Spider-Man or The Savage She Hulk…" But if I owned Shulkie, I'd be suuuper happy. I also don't own stock in anything, this is from my imagination.
Warning: This chapter might be frustrating. Sorry in advance!
Trigger: A mention is made of someone experiencing a panic attack. It's in the 'FlashBack' sequence. Please skip it if mentions of panic attacks are triggering.
Navigating the Curve
By Juliette Lyst
Come What May
Main Universe
Alchemex - Liz Allen's Office
Despite her earlier words, instead of getting right into the meat of the problem, the blonde sat studying the contents of her coffee mug. Her pinched features easily revealed the emotions that lie beneath the carefully manicured surface that she normally maintained with ease. The man sitting on the opposite side of the desk was not known for being so quiet.
Sneaking a glance at him, she noted just how worn-down JJ looked. This was a mistake. She thought with dismay. She wasn't sure what was happening with him, but was beginning to regret contacting him so late. Before she was able to ask him to come back later on, he spoke.
"Surely you didn't call me just to have coffee, Elizabeth," as he spoke, one bushy brow rose slightly. "Not that I can complain. This is better than what we have at the office." His features grew a little slack then, in thought. Oh Ashley…
To be honest, Jonas appreciated the distraction. He had yet to contact the police about the disturbing phone call he'd received at The Bugle. He nearly asked how the man got his number, but remembered that the information to reach them was public.
Then there was the matter of finding out where Ashley's address was listed. He still hadn't gotten around to that either. Normally, the older man was on at the top of his game. He was beginning to slip. Maybe, he was too emotionally involved. He'd started to see Ashley as more than his employee. Was that really fair for her though?
He kept asking himself… Was there something he'd missed? Had she ever mentioned any medical conditions?
"To be fair… it was more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything else," she explained casually. "When I thought of the investors that could be harmed by this, you were the first one who came to mind."
Now, his expression became troubled. She was referring to him as one of the 'investors,' which meant that something at Alchemex was wrong. What was it though? He was sitting right there and Liz seemed to completely clam up.
She had returned to her coffee after she spoke.
Something must be extremely intriguing in there. He thought with a hollow feeling beginning to grow in his stomach.
"Miss Allen… Liz," he began, taking another swallow from his own coffee. "Is this something serious? Something that could harm The Bugle?" There was no need to pull punches or try to drag this out. She'd been more than eager to ask him to meet tonight. It had to be of the utmost importance… didn't it?
"I.." she sighed faintly, lifting blue eyes to lock on Jameson's face. "There's been a miscalculation." Her lips pursed faintly in thought. "We here at Alchemex are working hard to offer only the best for all of our clientele," With this, she also gestured to the window in her office. "And steady growth for all of our investors."
Here she swallowed, feeling a lump forming in her throat. "A mistake was made. It…" she shook her head. "It's not good, Jameson."
Unnerved at the slow explanation, JJ sat up straighter in his seat. "You told me that whatever it was, it was 'extremely virulent.'" There it was, right to the heart of the matter. "Please explain what that means and why I'm involved."
Straight to it then. Setting her coffee down on her desk, Liz rested her hands on the smooth surface and linked her fingers. "You remember that you invested in Alchemex, and I informed you that the investment supported all parts of the company, correct?"
Where is she going with this? Puzzlement was visible on his face. "Yes…"
Frowning, Liz bit her bottom lip. She was fidgeting with her hands a bit.
Elizabeth Allen didn't fidget. Jameson's eyes narrowed marginally as the nervous habit continued.
"Alchemex has scientific facilities…" She waited a moment to make sure that he was following what she said. "One of them was working on a very important project. It had top secret clearance."
Mouth slowly dropping open, Jameson set his coffee down on her desk. "What…" he was struggling to wrap his mind around what she was saying. The delay was worrisome as well. "What was the project?" With a company as big as this, there could be millions of options. So many ways to make a mistake…
"We were working on a serum believed lost." Her blue eyes looked down at her hands. Better that than see his face now. "The goblin serum." Swallowing again, she pursed her lips faintly. "It was a project that Norman wanted in on. He was one of the… test subjects." With that, she looked up.
Jameson had sunken down into his chair in shock, the blood draining from his face. He knew how dangerous the Green Goblin had been, everyone did. Why did she think it was a good idea to revive it at all? And since he had invested in Alchemex… when this came out, The Bugle would be dragged down with them. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead. With the way his heart was beating, he worried if he was on the brink of a heart attack.
Feeling stabbing pain, he clutched his chest.
"JJ?" Moving quickly from around the desk, Liz quickly reached out to hold his wrist. Not good. Reaching her phone on the desk, she dialed down to the bowels of the building. The phone took longer than she wanted to pick up. When it did, she immediately barked into it. "I need Doctor Cruz in my office, right now!"
Now, the older man was gasping for air. Fear was in full display on his face.
"Miss Allen, the doctor is working on Mr. Osborn. He can't -"
"Forget Norman!" The blonde snapped. "I have a medical emergency up here! Send Cruz!" Slamming the phone down on the hook, she took a moment to compose herself and picked up the phone again.
"Hello? 911…"
Parker Residence - Outside - 11:50PM
Sami's car sat outside; the engine long turned off. He and Marilyn were in the car, chatting with MJ. It was past time for the redhead to go back inside the house, but she was resistant.
What was waiting in the house for her anyway? Nothing but vestiges of a life she'd had before.
"So…" Marilyn chimed in. It was getting late. Nearly midnight. All of them had lives to get to in the morning. "I suppose I can catch a ride home, Sam?"
The rise of his left brow was sardonic. His eyes asked without him speaking: Sure… how else would you get home? Walk?
Rolling her eyes, Marilyn leaned back in her seat. "It was just a question." She dramatically rested her right forearm against her forehead, tilting her head back. "Dear Sir, I am stung by your response." She heard a snort, but noticed it was coming from MJ. "Hey!" Her light brown eyes narrowed a little. "You're supposed to be on my side!"
"I'm sorry," MJ replied, trying to stifle another snort of laughter. "You two are so funny together."
Samuel's features smoothed into a smile. "It's so nice to hear you laughing."
Startled, MJ stopped, but her smiled remained in place. "Thank you." Her brilliant emerald eyes took in both of her two friends. "Both of you. I don't…" Here, she stopped speaking for a moment.
Frowning in sympathy, Marilyn reached over and rubbed MJ's shoulder.
The redhead bit her bottom lip, swallowing hard. Resting a hand over Marilyn's, MJ squeezed it a little in gratitude. "Thanks. Umm… You don't know how grateful I am that I came out with you two tonight."
"Same here." Marilyn chimed in, her face all smiles.
"Time to call it a night then." MJ's smile disappeared quickly and she unlocked the back door, stepping out of the car.
It took only a moment before Marilyn was out of the car as well. "Sorry, Sam," she waved at the man. "I think I'll spend the night here with MJ."
Making her way up to the door, the redhead paused and looked over her shoulder. "What?"
Grinning madly and running up to MJ, Marilyn hugged her friend from behind. "You don't mind, right?" her head tilted a little. "I thought you just didn't want to be alone tonight."
Turning her head back to the door, MJ fished her keys out of her purse. "Marilyn…" she began.
Dipping her head, feeling chastened, the brunette looked over her shoulder to see if Sam's car was still there - just in case. He was, thankfully. "Umm… Yea, MJ?"
Sucking in a deep breath, MJ turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open wide. "Might as well get inside. We both have work tomorrow." Without waiting, MJ stepped over the threshold.
Waving at Sam again, Marilyn followed MJ inside the house.
Closing and locking the door, MJ looked around the house with a faint frown. What would Marilyn think? It's not as if she'd been keeping the house properly. There was dust visible - everywhere. Several cobwebs and even spiderwebs had taken residence in the house. Though she took out the trash, that was intermittent. The faint tinge of rotting garbage hit both women before they got anywhere near the kitchen.
Used to the smell by now, MJ pointedly ignored it.
Grimacing at the smell, Marilyn managed to quickly school her features before MJ turned to her and plastered a big smile in place. "Where do I sleep?"
MJ was quiet, studying her friend's features for a moment. "Mm," she mumbled, inaudibly. She gestured to where the spare room was. Of all the rooms in the house, it was the cleanest, but then again not much was in there. Nothing, save a blow-up mattress with a thin sheet on it. She'd just recently packed up Peter's things and had them boxed in a corner of the room.
Marilyn blinked. That was… odd. It was as if, as soon as she entered the house, Mary Jane's personality switched over to something else entirely. It wasn't exactly unfriendly but… She's not at all herself here.
Unbidden, MJ popped around a corner with clothing in her hands. She'd already changed out of her clothing. "You'll need something to sleep in." After Marilyn accepted them, she disappeared again into the house. The first place the redhead went after offering a change of clothes was to the bathroom to clean her make-up off.
The sheets she used to clean her skin were the same ones she'd been using for years. As the layers came off though, she kept her gaze on the mirror in front of her. Another swipe and more concealer came off.
In a way, she felt bad about ruining Sami's job, but… she needed to sleep and with clear skin was the best way. He really packed it on heavy, didn't he? Then again, he was trying to hide a night of excessive drinking with not enough sleep mingled in.
Finally wiping off the last layer, the young woman stood still, studying her appearance in the mirror. The heavy bags under her eyes and thick dark circles around them had been all but invisible, but now -
"Sorry. Do you have another bathroom here?" Marilyn stopped, looking at the mirror as well. Her eyes popped open wide like twin moons. What had…
MJ had paled seeing another face in the mirror. Instead of reacting poorly, she merely nodded slowly. "Yes. Through the doors down the hall. Off the master bedroom." The entire time she spoke, she maintained eye contact with Marilyn in the mirror.
More than a little unsettled, her friend merely bobbed her head in thanks and spun on her heel. She nearly tripped over her feet in her haste to get to the other bedroom. Marilyn wasn't sure what she expected really, but the sudden smell of musk in the room was unexpected. Her nose wrinkled, but she hurried to the ensuite.
MJ looks absolutely terrible. The thought was a mean one, but she'd seen her friend before without make-up. Her normally fresh-faced friend looked anything but. Just what's been going on in here? Then, there was the bedroom and this bathroom. Everything smelled old… and stale.
It was as if no fresh air was ever allowed in. How can she sleep in here like this? The smell was more than a little distressing.
The odor lingered, with dust and dirt in corners. When had anything been swept or vacuumed last?
Expecting MJ to be heading to the bedroom, Marilyn was surprised to see MJ settling down on her couch. It was the lone piece of furniture in the immediate vicinity that appeared to have been used to excess. "I'm all done in the bathroom," Marilyn began, her voice a little wobbly. "Thank you."
Shrugging lightly, the redhead stretched out on the couch. "Umm…" Something's not right here. Marilyn fidgeted a bit where
she was and leaned over a little to look at MJ.
The hesitance wasn't missed and green eyes peered up at her. "… Yes?" MJ's right eye twitched a little. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the company, but tonight was going to be the same as usual. Someone else around didn't make much difference, did it? "Aren't you going to bed?" Marilyn asked, perching on the arm of the couch.
Surprise filled Mary Jane's face, her brows furrowing in confusion. Without preamble, she blurted out what she thought would be a short but blunt response. "I already am." Turning on her side then, she purposefully broke eye contact with her friend. MJ hadn't even brought out a blanket for herself, content to sleep on the couch without it.
"B-But… Your bedroom…" Questions continued to mount behind those words. There was a fully furnished bedroom and a full-sized bed that looked extremely comfortable to sleep in. So why was the redhead content to sleep on the couch instead?
"Nah… I don't sleep in there," MJ muttered. Lifting her eyes then and twisting back around to meet Marilyn's confused stared, she spoke again… her voice flat. "Leave it alone and go to sleep."
Getting the hint, Marilyn bounded off the couch. "Understood," she replied. After a moment, she lightly squeezed MJ's shoulder. "Have a good night." Then, she was gone - walking back into the guest bedroom.
Grumbling under her breath, MJ curled up into a ball to sleep. No. Nothing was at all changed tonight compared to other nights.
The alcohol she normally would have ingested though - it remained in the kitchen cabinet, all but forgotten.
NewYork-Presbyterian - Private Suite - 3 am
Liz Allen had experienced so much since she'd married Harry. Love, loss, frustration… and resignation. Today though, she was weighed down with guilt. There were far too many regrets that she carried deep inside, but this one was the worse by far.
An innocent person had been harmed by her foolish decisions.
The doctors told her that Jameson would be fine, that what he'd experienced was mild. The EMTs that responded to her call had lightly probed for information. They wanted to know what had led up to the call for help. Politely, she had declined, explaining that they were just meeting.
At night.
Also, they were two people who seemingly didn't even travel in the same circles. The doctors had been more forceful in questioning her, but the blonde had remained tight-lipped. She was just getting over the severity of their miscalculation, her failure to properly address it with one of her more well-known investors and fear of what was going to happen to her own company.
Alchemex was supposed to be for Normie. Now, that legacy might well and truly be over before it had yet begun.
No… she told herself. I can't think like that. Seated at Jameson's side as the older man rested under sedation, Liz curled and uncurled her hands into fists in her lap. The doctor was coming in soon to let her know how JJ was doing…
What then though?
Was she supposed to stay here? It would be best if I made myself scarce. That was the easiest way out. It wasn't as if she didn't have a company to run.
Still.
If not for her slip in judgement, he wouldn't be here. And what about the press once they got wind of it? Her eyes shifted back and forth between his bed and the door. Would someone here let it leak who had come to the suite with him? The stress was bringing on a headache she didn't need.
Pressing the cool tips of her fingers against her temples, she pushed in slightly and slowly rubbed them in circles, trying to ease the pain. I don't have time for this! She thought, already feeling more agitated Where is the doctor?! She needed to get out of there.
While she waited, her mind began conjuring up nightmare scenarios in which she had to pay off person after person to keep quiet about what they knew. JJ hadn't said anything when he came in, so no one yet knew about the potential danger on the horizon.
The staff knew she was there though, that much was true. As of yet, no one seemed very eager to part with their silence and potentially their career though. That was a bright spot, wasn't it?
She was so deeply engrossed in her own thoughts that she didn't immediately notice when JJ's physician walked in. In fact, it took a moment before she noticed the minute woman in front of her. "I'm," her voice cracked unexpectedly. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" She sounded dazed.
Concern filled the doctor's eyes. Setting Jameson's chart on the end of his bed, she returned to Liz and put the buds of her stethoscope in her ears. "Mind if I take a listen."
As expected, Liz stared at the doctor as if she'd grown an extra head. "Doctor, I'm not the one in need of aid here."
Nodding lightly, the doctor took another step forward. "True, but just to be sure." Her eyes crinkled a little at the corners as she offered a friendly smile. "You seem to have a bad headache. I'd like to make sure you're fine as well."
Pulling away, not unkindly, the blonde mulled over offer in her mind. It couldn't hurt, right? "… Sure." Conceding, she submitted herself to a short checkup, which she thought was ridiculous. I'm not even the one hospitalized.
Thoroughly, the doctor checked Liz's heart and lungs. When she checked her blood pressure though, her brows rose of one accord. Not immediately saying anything, she pulled the buds from her ears carefully.
"Dealing with a lot of stress?" she asked politely.
Looking at her, Liz couldn't be that upset. The doctor looked so sweet and was very friendly. "A little," she murmured. That is an understatement. "But I'd like to know how JJ is doing."
"You're his family, correct?"
Frowning, Liz shook her head. "He doesn't… really speak with them."
The doctor shook her head lightly, regret flitting across her delicate features. "HIPPA law states that this must be spoken of with his family."
"Look," Liz leveled a stare at her. "His family was contacted, hours ago. Do you think anyone bothered to even show up?" While true that Jameson's relationships were strained, Liz didn't know before all of this - how bad it truly was.
"Miss -"
"Plus, I'm his business partner and the one who called for an ambulance to begin with." Liz folded her arms, more than mild frustration evident now. "I've been here for hours waiting to hear what's happening to him. Please doctor…"
Nodding again after a long moment, the doctor returned to Jameson's chart. "I apologize for not introducing myself. My name is Doctor Biru." She adjusted the thin rimmed glasses that perched precariously on her nose. "Your friend here," With that, she gestured to Jameson. "Has AFib. Did he ever mention that to you?"
Wordlessly, Liz shook her head.
"His heartbeat is irregular. It caused him to throw a clot, and that caused a mini stroke." Seeing alarm fill Liz's eyes, the doctor hurried to continue. "It's not going to cause any long-term effects." Her gaze moved back to the chart. "He needs to see a cardiologist if he's not already."
"I see…" This was news that she never expected to hear. Her shoulders sagged. Now she was certain what she'd told him aggravated his condition.
"He also needs to take some time off work if that's possible," The doctor noted, peering over at the seated blonde again. "And you too as well."
Those blue eyes snapped right to the doctor's face. "Excuse me?"
"Your blood pressure was elevated." Doctor Biru lightly tilted her head. "Much higher than it should be. You need rest." She gestured with her free hand to Jameson. "Otherwise, you could find yourself in the same situation."
Grimly, Liz bit back a retort. "I'll take your word for it." She didn't even try to smile. "You'll… understand that I'll be seeking a second opinion from my own doctors, correct?"
Instead of what the blonde expected, the doctor's face lit up. "I'm glad to hear that. Please take care of your health. It's not a limitless resource as so many think it is."
Grimacing at the irony of her statement, Liz nodded. "Understood doctor. May I ask how long will he be here?"
"We'd like him to stay for twenty-four hours for evaluation. If he remains stable, he'll be able to go home."
Closing her eyes in relief, Liz nodded faintly. "Thank… goodness." She leaned forward, resting her head in her upraised hands.
"He'll be receiving more fluids soon." The doctor added, lightly. "You should get some sleep, maybe eat."
Liz looked up through a curtain of blonde hair.
"If you want, we can bring in a cot for you to rest in."
Resolutely, she shook her head. "No, that will be fine." Liz rose from her seat, gathering her purse. "You have my contact information, correct?"
The doctor checked the chart. "Miss Elizabeth A, right?" She then read off a number.
The blonde nodded. "That is correct," her words came out sounding sharp, as if she was forcing herself to have more energy than she should have. "When he's ready for discharge, please let me know. I'll send a driver to collect him."
"Of course."
As Liz moved to walk past the doctor, the smaller woman spoke up again.
"Please do not forget to consult your doctors."
Pausing then, Liz blinked, her eyes rounding owlishly. The thought had come and immediately slipped her mind. This time she wouldn't forget though. "Understood." She resumed the walk to the elevators, not looking back.
Parker Residence - 7am
It wasn't time for her to wake up yet. The entire situation had been so unsettling through. Everything about being in the house with MJ just seemed - so wrong. The redhead had an entire bedroom that she refused to use at all. Where did she normally sleep then? On the couch?
Maybe in this room? Goosebumps rose on Marilyn's skin and she nearly flung herself off the bed. Did that mean that she was sleeping in MJ's bed? When was the last time she even changed the sheets? For someone who had tossed more than a little, she was pretty much awake now. Her alarm wasn't supposed to go off for another two hours.
The hint of light peeking through drawn curtains illuminated what she had suspected. The entire house had mostly been dark when she'd first come in, so she couldn't see much. Now though…
Her jaw clenched as she stepped into the kitchen. The kitchen trash wasn't the only source of the smell. Warily, her eyes focused on the fridge. If the contents smelled so bad that she could detect it outside… Bracing herself, she walked up to it, gingerly prying the door open. A sight she didn't expect awaited her. Her eyes watered a moment later at the smell of decay… somewhere in there.
Nowhere did she see any fruit, juice or hint of fresh groceries. Instead, the fridge had more than a few shelves occupied with takeout containers. A half opened can of beer was also sitting in the fridge. Screwing up her features, she reached in to see what kind of stuff MJ was feeding herself with. I can't believe her… she thought with dismay as she began to pop the lid off the first container. How can she eat like this and stay so thin?
A moment later, her brows rose sharply. Only half of the food was gone. Judging by the sudden smell wafting up to her, it wasn't at all fresh either. Into the trash it went. Reaching for another container, she popped that open. She gagged, nearly dropping the container when she saw and smelled how badly decayed the contents were. Closing it quickly, she tossed it into the trash. Moving over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands, she was alarmed to see more than a few glass bottles in the sink.
"What? Why," her shoulders drooped then, counting the various liquor bottles in the sink. "Rotten food in the fridge…" she ground out under her breath. "Bottles of alcohol in the sink… A dust-filled, musty bedroom that has barely been used from the smell of it…"
Shaking her head, she maneuvered out of the kitchen and hurried back to the guest room. She was shaking just a little as she made a phone call. The phone seemed to ring forever while she waited.
Then…
Hallo?"
Feeling her heart leap into her throat, Marilyn hesitated for a moment.
Marilyn?" The voice inquired.
Shaking her head, she grasped the phone like the lifeline it was. "Look… I need a favor."
Alchemex - Liz Allen's Office - 9AM
It was foolish to have returned to work. It made more sense for her to simply head home after leaving the hospital. What she had to do could have been done from the comforts of her bedroom.
Never mind that.
Holding the handset for her office phone in one hand, she absently looked her fingernails over. I'll need another manicure soon. She was seriously considering Doctor Biru's suggestion, because her headache - while lessening in intensity - was lingering. Her health was important.
So was business though.
Clenching her jaw, she grimaced, almost imagining what her dentist was going to say when he saw her next. Her fingers danced over the keypad as she dialed. Inhaling sharply, she straightened up where she sat and waited.
Thankfully the wait wasn't long. "Good morning. This is Miss Allen. I'm calling for an update from Dr. Cruz." Hearing a response, she bowed her head slightly. "Sure, I can wait." After all, waiting is all I can do now.
Soon, the doctor came to the phone. "Doctor Cruz! Miss Allen here. I'm calling for an update on Norman. Do you have any good news for me?"
The doctor didn't sound very happy at all when he replied. "It's not very good, ma'am." There was a pause on the phone. "The lead scientist is still here. We both need to discuss our findings with you."
"I can come down…" Her voice trailed off.
"Very good." He replied quickly. After a moment, he pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure the call was still connected.
They were supposed to be having a meeting soon with the other investors to disclose the projections for the quarter. That was going to be difficult without Jameson there. Liz's thoughts had drifted to the extent that she lost track of time just a smidge.
"Miss Allen? Are you still there?"
Her body jerked in response. "Ah… Yes."
"Are you feeling unwell?" It wouldn't do if both of them were sick.
"No, doctor. I'm fine." She blinked a little, rubbing her eyes. Am I honestly okay? She wasn't certain. "See you in five… ten minutes. Ten."
"Alright."
Hanging up, she rested her elbows on the desk, steepling her fingers. Her headache was worsening. When she found herself rubbing her right temple again, she stared at her hand for a long moment before lifting the handset again.
It was time for her to get a second opinion. On herself.
Alchemex - Lower Levels
Doctor Cruz frowned at the phone as he set the handset back in the cradle. His eyes were narrowed to slits. They ached and burned from the long hours. If he'd been working in a hospital, he would have already been relieved to go sleep. It wasn't safe for anyone if a doctor was working over twenty-four hours straight.
A hospital wasn't where he worked, but he wished it was. What they'd found overnight observing Norman was to say the least… shocking.
Somehow the Goblin serum was extremely different from its previous incarnation. The changes were easily seen in his blood under a microscope. Not only had the goblin DNA been mutated, but the cells themselves began attacking Norman's normal human cells. They weren't certain if this was something that would happen to those who already had goblin DNA or not.
The serum had been so effective in him because he already had dormant goblin genes. The revived cells wanted to eradicate everything in their wake and spread at the same time. Some of the goblin cells were latching onto human cells, injecting them with information and letting them wander off to later on explode… releasing more goblin cells.
Others… they were attacking Norman's blood cells as if they were an extension of his immune system.
On initial tests, Norman's immune response was high. Now though, his resistance was not only dropping, but the white blood cells themselves seemed open to corruption as well. They were slowly being changed into more of the goblin cells.
Was his infection already airborne? His new colleague, Joshua Simon, seemed to think so. The scientist seemed even more horrified at the implications than he was.
Both men were on the phone as soon as the sun was a promise in the sky after their analysis, trying to reach not only Doctor Cruz's staff but also the other trial subjects.
Half of them had made mention of some clinging illness. All of them were heading to Alchemex for evaluation… save one. In that instance, his wife had picked up the phone. Doctor Cruz swallowed hard, looking over his notes.
The test subject had already checked into a local hospital the previous night with severe flu-like symptoms.
He knew… Miss Allen was not going to like hearing that.
Clad in a hazard suit as well, Doctor Simon walked over to him. "Is she coming down?"
Doctor Cruz nodded. He lightly flexed the fingers of his right hand. It was highly likely that the spread had begun.
Parker Residence - 9:30AM
"Look… I've already apologized."
Instead of responding, MJ sat quietly on the couch, her arms folded. -FLASHBACK- TRIGGER WARNING
Instead of the quiet morning she had expected before she had to get ready for work, she'd been startled awake by the sound of her front door opening.
Two male voices registered then and before she could move, two men were walking past her on the couch. One of them was Sami… but the other person was a man she'd never seen before.
One of them uttered an expletive, only to yelp a moment later.
Shut it!" That was Sami.
Marilyn followed them into the kitchen after locking the front door. Her eyes widened in acknowledgement that MJ was awake, but that was it.
Frozen in place, the redhead listened to the sound of rustling. They had bags when they came in? She wasn't at all sure. Instead of getting up, she sank lower into the couch, trying to force her muscles to relax. She heard the squeal of styrofoam rubbing against itself.
They were in the fridge. She began shivering, but not from the cold. She hadn't wanted anyone to see that. What had made her agree to let Marilyn stay the night? MJ knew her friend meant well but…
Hearing the clink of glass, she slapped both hands over her ears and buried her face in the couch. She didn't want to hear it, any of it.
A cold sweat began to break out on her arms. There were people that she didn't want in her home, doing things that she had not asked them to do. Her privacy was invaded…
Wasn't a good cleaning overdue though? While she occupied the house, she had let it turn into a near literal dumping ground. But she hadn't been able to just be there - on her own. Not for as long as she had. She should have gotten another person in there immediately.
Or just sold the house. Peter wasn't coming back. She swallowed back bile when her stomach churned from the acknowledgement. Her breathing grew shallow, her hands feeling clammy. Moving her hands from her ears as an overpowering sense of disorientation settled in, she groped… almost blindly for the edge of the couch, trying to pull herself off of it.
She'd just managed to see the floor and was scrambling off the couch's soft surface when Marilyn came back out of the kitchen.
The brunette felt her brows furrow heavily as MJ 'flung' her body to the floor. "What are you doing?"
Instead of responding, the distraught redhead curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. She was wheezing, audibly.
Hurrying over to the couch, she dropped into a crouch, she reached out carefully. "Breathe, MJ."
Green eyes had nearly closed now. "C-Can't," she struggled. "Chest… hurts…"
Pressing two fingers against her friend's right carotid, Marilyn silently counted, soothingly rubbing MJ's shoulder. She didn't remember if
her friend had asthma or any sort of breathing ailment. Her pulse
was far too fast. "Just… try to calm down, MJ." She didn't want to leave her friend, but they needed help. She moved to get up.
The man who'd come with Sami ducked his head out the kitchen. "What are you-" his words caught in his throat when he saw one of the women on the floor. "What happened?" He asked, rushing over.
Marilyn twisted a little to look at him. "I'm not sure. MJ didn't say if she had breathing problems." Her voice was panicky.
Sounding far calmer, he knelt down next to MJ's head. "Please call 911." He asked, running fingers through his short cropped blonde hair in a bid to settle his nerves.
Marilyn hurried to find the cordless phone. She was waiting to be connected to an operator when she made it back to them.
His focus narrowed on MJ. "Listen carefully to the sound of my breathing," he waited to see if the stricken woman was responding. "In and out… Yes." He intentionally slowed down his own breathing. "Nice and easy… Slow." Taking over from Marilyn, he checked the pulse point in MJ's wrist with practiced ease.
Leaning back, Marilyn watched carefully.
Where is your inhaler?" He asked, softening his voice.
Green eyes widened a fraction, as MJ felt the tightness in her chest easing. "Don't… Have one." She watched as understanding bloomed in the steel gray eyes above her.
Hmm," he responded, silently counting her heartbeats against his watch. "Nitroglycerine pills?"
Marilyn's expression turned to one of incredulity. What on earth was that? How did he even know to ask?
MJ shook her head. "No."
I see," he responded. Reaching down after carefully setting her wrist down, he gently grasped her shoulders. "Hold on, going to sit you up now. Just remember your breathing, okay? Nice and slow." He waited until he saw a nod of agreement and then carefully helped the redhead sit against the couch.
Marilyn's face suddenly displayed displeasure when she heard the operator on the line pick up.
911. What's your location?"
Tensing her jaw, she lightly shook her head. "My friend collapsed in her house."
Making sure that MJ was stable before he moved, he turned and reached for the phone. "May I?"
Yes, please Matthew."
Nodding, he lifted the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
The operator paused a moment. "What is the location, sir?"
As Matthew began rattling off details, he added as well. "Pulse was racing earlier, complained of chest pains. Might be a panic attack, but I'd prefer if EMTs could come just to make sure."
Understood."
We'll be waiting. Will be withholding fluids until we're sure what's going on." He turned back to MJ. She looked ashen. Reaching out and grasping one of her hands in his own, he felt the trembling. "You're going to be fine, alright?"
Call us if anything changes."
Hearing the click, he handed the phone back to Marilyn. He rested one hand on MJ's cheek. "Look at me," he'd noticed that she
seemed to be losing consciousness. Hearing his voice snapped her back to attention, a little. "That's right." He smiled then. "You're going to be okay. Do you understand me?"
MJ nodded slowly.
-END OF FLASHBACK-
"I'm not sure what else I can say."
"You can start," her voice was low at first. MJ averted her gaze from her friend. "By explaining why you thought having people come into my home without my knowledge was a good idea."
Sighing, Marilyn lightly nudged Mary Jane with her leg. "Mind if I sit?"
Though the redhead said nothing, she did scoot over.
Stretching her legs out after seating herself, Marilyn sighed dramatically. "I think I just… I went into panic mode," She ran her hands over her knees repetitively. The normally bubbly brunette was uncomfortable in the conversation, but knew she'd stepped way out of line. "All I saw was just… trash and - and all those bottles. I thought…" Here, she drew in a deep breath and swallowed. "I thought I was helping."
"There are other ways to help," MJ commented. "Look, I know it wasn't good in there -"
"The word I would use is 'terrible'. Did you even realize those containers had rotting food in them?"
MJ's lips pursed, showing how agitated she was. "… Yes." The word came after a very uncomfortable silence. "… I mean no." Uncertainty showed in her voice. "I don't know."
Breaking the stalemate, Marilyn turned where she was sitting to face MJ, one leg folded on the couch. "We're friends still… right?"
When MJ grew quiet and lowered her head, it wasn't a very good sign.
Reaching over, Marilyn lightly squeezed MJ's shoulder. "I'll be back. Can't leave the boys alone to do all the work." Without another word, she got up off the couch.
When MJ finally lifted her head, she couldn't see any sign of Marilyn anywhere. The sounds around her let her know that the trio were still in the house. Slowly, she sucked in a breath and climbed off the couch. She walked to the kitchen, so surprised to see the difference. The counters and sink had been scrubbed clean; the floor mopped. The fridge had been completely cleaned out, along with the freezer.
Her trash had been emptied three times.
When she opened the fridge, she was greeted by an explosion of colors. Her fridge had been stocked with fresh food. Wait… did they throw out everything? The initial elation at having groceries became muddled. She didn't see any indication of the case of beer she'd bought.
Closing the fridge, she inspected the kitchen more thoroughly. Even her Jim Beam was gone. The cabinets had been completely cleared of any alcohol at all. Maybe it's for the best…
Her hands shook a little as she rested them against the cool surface of the fridge. The alcohol wasn't needed, but her body craved it. What had begun as a tiny habit to 'take off the edge' had been turning into dependance.
Though she was still upset with her friend's impetuousness, she needed a sudden shock to pull her out of the hole she'd been digging herself into one shot at a time. Biting her bottom lip, she stepped back and pulled the fridge open. Instead of the monotony of take-out containers that depressed her, only fresh food was there. She immediately focused on a bag of apples. Retrieving one, she shut the fridge with her hip and moved over to the sink to wash the fruit off.
The explosion on her tongue wasn't what she expected. It was very sweet… like a mango. Or was it a pineapple? She shifted the bite of fruit between her teeth and tongue. She couldn't quite pin down the taste. But it was an apple. Which type, she wasn't certain.
Her head lifted at a faintly familiar sound, but she didn't turn around. Even when she heard footfalls behind her, she continued to face the sink. Taking another bite out of the apple, she blinked at the sight of a hand waving in her peripheral.
"Mary Jane!" It was Marilyn again. She wasn't sure what to expect, but the bright smile her appearance elicited was welcome. "Come! You need to see what they did with the back room!"
MJ's smile faltered just a bit. The what? The Bugle - 10AM
The employees were walking around, as if in a stupor. None of them were exactly sure what was going on. Thankfully, one of the journalists had a key to open the front door. The building was eerily quiet without their boss there.
Jameson was normally very transparent and prepared in advance if he was taking a leave of absence. That hadn't happened today.
The main phone began ringing, just as everyone was fully settling into their joint roles at work. JJ would be back, and he'd hound every single one of them if they slacked off.
One of the older reporters stood up to answer the line.
Even though they had a contingency plan, it didn't mean that they liked it.
"The Bugle!" He said into the phone. "So, the paper is running today, correct?"
"… Yes?" He pulled the handset away from his ear, staring at the phone in confusion for a brief moment. What was going on?
"I'm calling to inform you that Jameson will be returning to the office in a few days. Until then, keep the presses hot."
Before he was able to respond, the caller hung up. Swallowing hard, he put the phone down.
"Who was that?" One of his coworkers called.
Still staring at the phone, he shrugged. "Didn't say. It was a woman though. She said the boss would be back in a few days."
"Does anyone have the number for Yaqub Le? We don't have authorization for all of this!" Another voice cried.
"Yeah," he replied. "The boss keeps a rolodex in his office."
The response to that was a bark of laughter. "Hey Griffiths, can you get the info for us?"
Smirking at that, Griffiths strolled over to JJ's office. The older man always kept his door locked. Thankfully, the reporter had a spare key. Using it, he let himself in and stepped right up to the rolodex. As he began thumbing through all of the names, he muttered under his breath. "Good thing he's still old school."
Jameson, while embracing most forms of technology as they came, still kept certain practices. A physical copy of business contacts always came in handy. Locating the name they needed, Griffiths wrote it down on a pad and left the office again, securing the door.
"Got his number right here!" Griffiths stated as he headed over to the main phone to place a quick call. While he'd written the name on his pad, it was between a multitude of other numbers. He hadn't attached a name. Good that some of us still stick to older methods. If he lost the pad, no one would know which number was for what.
Alchemex - Liz Allen's Office - Noon
The blonde had sat in the same position for who knew how long. She certainly wasn't sure anymore. After speaking with Doctor Cruz and Doctor Simon, she was impressed that she'd even been able to
return to her office. The two men could have easily alerted the authorities. However, their discretion and complete trust in her was irrefutable. A copy of their findings was on her desk in a manilla envelope.
Instead of looking at the pages, she kept her gaze otherwise occupied. When she'd had her office updated, she'd insisted on specific windows. She wanted to feel as if she was above everyone, easily able to step over whomever to get what she wanted. While it was true that she was high up and those on the ground looked small… She felt smaller than they did.
Before her sat a multitude of reasons behind the predicament they faced.
Pride… Greed. If she'd perfected the serum and made it safe to use, it would have opened the doorway to bring back different failed trials in the past. They wanted to unlock the part of the human genome
that repaired itself. If they could tap it, they could find a way to cure a variety of other ailments.
She snorted then. What about the Goblin serum was safe to begin with? While true that it offered its users enhanced energy and strength, this new mixture of it was having unexpected side effects.
While she'd stood in shock in the lower levels of the building, trying to understand what was happening to Norman, the scientist and doctor were already discussing how they could try a new gene therapy to help Norman's body adapt to what was happening to it.
He was being torn apart from the inside.
How can you adapt to that? She'd been too overwhelmed to say anything. Not that it mattered. The two men easily filled the room with the sound of their prattling. Holding the papers in her hand, she had left them there and returned to her office. Liz made it a point to ignore the silence caused by her leaving.
She'd been determined to read over what the paperwork said as soon as she got into her office. Now that she was there… the action seemed far too much for her to do.
There were too many unknowns.
Except one. The Goblin serum was out there… and its effects could be spreading. They had no idea yet if it was contagious. Would
people be able to breathe it in or did they need closer contact?
We have to notify the CDC. She shivered with sudden realization. As soon as the big wigs got wind of it, they would storm in here and the entire building would be quarantined. I… I can't be here.
Without even thinking, she reached one shaking hand for the phone and began dialing from memory.
Morningside Park - 3PM
Quietly walking on a winding path, MJ grinned up at the sky. Stretching her arms out, the sleeves of the café au lait crème- colored shirt slid down, covering her hands. The floppy hat she wore was the same hue.
"This was a pretty good location today, no?" Sami asked, walking behind his friend at a slower pace. He couldn't control a smile when her happy laughter reached him.
Earlier in the day, they'd worried that emergency services would need to be called again when MJ saw what they'd done with that bedroom. It was a shame that she hadn't used it in so long. His brows furrowed a little. A bit easy to understand why though.
What they'd done was brighten up the entire room, pulled the blinds up, removed the curtains and washed them. They'd made sure to remove and change the sheets and ensured that the mattress didn't have any surprises for her. The last thing she needed was to be bitten in there.
Seeing her now, smiling and laughing, even though they were on the clock… It was worth all the work they'd done. He was relieved that he needed a lot less make-up on her today.
Green eyes twinkled as the redhead made her way to the spot the photographer indicated. She was in fine form today, wearing cropped white slacks and strappy sandals that matched her shirt and hat.
Today's gig was for a catalogue, and the photographer wanted them to work in a more 'natural' setting. This place was as good as any, but it the benefits for her were immeasurable.
Not wanting to question it when she felt good, MJ struggled to restrain another giggle as she was told which pose to take.
As it turned out, it had proved to be a very good idea to have Marilyn there overnight. Her friend, while sometimes bullish, truly helped her out of a rough patch. Matthew had proved to be a wonderful new friend to have. She wasn't sure where Sami had met him, but she
was grateful.
As it turned out Matt - or Mate as his friends called him - worked in the medical field. In fact, the EMT's that came to help her recognized him. He'd seemed uncomfortable when she asked him where he worked, so she backed off.
They'd seen Marilyn off for work, and Sami volunteered to give her a lift to her new gig. After all, he was her personal make-up artist. We should just live together… The thought came unbidden, but she was able to maintain the façade she needed for the shots. Was it the right idea though?
She'd spent so long living with Peter, but they'd been engaged. She didn't know much at all about Sami's personal life, but he certainly knew plenty about hers. There are benefits… She though, wryly. It would help them both save on bills. She'd have another person to talk to. Downsides too… Mary Jane could just imagine her family when they found out she was living with a man. Then, there was the issue of privacy.
It didn't matter that they were purely friends and the house belonged to her ex-fiancée initially.
Actually, the more she thought about it, the better it sounded. He would pick her up from work and bring her home… and pick her up from home and bring her to work. They'd been close friends for a very long time, truly got along and had a very professional relationship.
I'm going to have to discuss this with him. As the photographer requested another pose, she quickly complied. Sami stood off behind the photographer. After the shoot.
Alchemex - Lower Levels - 6PM
Resting quietly, his breath shallow, Norman Osborn lay under a soft blanket. He'd felt so very hot and everyone seemed to ignore it when he cried for help. He'd been given the blanket in the last hour to sleep under since he insisted on stripping down to his underwear. His green eyes opened slowly. The first thing he noticed was the ceiling in the containment room he was being held in.
He'd been poked and prodded, against his will. No one wanted to explain what was happening, just that he was in need of treatment.
Odd too, the people that had come in all wore containment suits.
Did that mean he was sick? How bad was it? Sitting up and letting the blanket pool around his waist, he narrowed his eyes. Did they turn up the heat in here? He wasn't certain. It certainly felt warmer. Groaning faintly, he pinched the bridge of his nose. What was wrong with him?
A sudden commotion heard through the door drew his attention. It sounded like shouting. Uneasily he climbed to his feet, leaving the blanket behind, and approached the door. Every time he got to the door, there were people screaming for him to stay back.
It didn't happen this time.
Looking through the tiny window in the door, he felt alarm bloom at the sight of additional people in suits. Two of the people he vaguely recognized. He was sure that they worked under Alchemex. The others… he wasn't sure.
Outside Norman's Room
"You can't think this is at all the right thing to do!" Doctor Cruz exclaimed. They had a very ill man in there and these people wanted to… remove him.
"Look, we have an order here. We were told there was a contagion…" Holding up a manilla envelope, the man then gestured to Norman's room. "And he is the main carrier. We need to study the disease and find a way to cure it."
"Who are you?" Doctor Simon asked, wanting to get to the point.
"Didn't you gentlemen know?" The question might have been rhetorical, but it was met with silence. "Very well. I'm Agent Gideon Vidalez. The men with me are also agents. We were sent here on behalf of the Centers for Disease Control." With those words, he handed over the envelope he was holding. There were five other men with him. At a mere gesture, three of them pulled out their firearms. "We want things to go as smoothly as possible, gentlemen."
Both of the doctors backed away at the sight of the weapons. Doctor Cruz opened the envelop and quickly read what was there. His eyes narrowed a fraction, a faint twitch in his right eye.
"What does it say?" Doctor Simon asked.
"It… says," his words were coming out from between clenched teeth. "That there is a harmful contagion located where we are and that it was for the safety of the state that the CDC take over at this point." His hands clenched, wrinkling the papers. "Permission was granted over the phone - by Elizabeth Allen, CEO of Alchemex Corporation."
"Did you men speak with her when you came in?" Doctor Simon asked. That was a surprise. Liz hadn't contacted either of them to let them know what was happening. They would have been better prepared.
"Her secretary said she was out for the day, but planned to speak with us tomorrow."
A short, sharp laugh erupted from Doctor Cruz. "I believe you men won't be able to find her," his head shook in accord with his words. "She didn't even inform me of this little… situation until a few days ago."
The agents looked at each other.
"She didn't warn me. My entire staff has been exposed," his voice began to trail off painfully. "Even me." The admission was a difficult one. Elizabeth Allen had caused this problem and she was fleeing the scene. The young woman was very clever. He doubted she was even still in the United States.
"… We're going to need more containment units." Agent Vidalez managed; his throat tight. He felt just as enraged now as the two men looked through the fronts of their suits. A different agent behind him started speaking into his earpiece. "All of you are coming in for examination." He gestured to the phone in the room. "Call your staff in here."
Trembling, Doctor Cruz walked to the phone and picked up the handset. "N-Not all of them are here." While he'd recalled his staff, not all of them had returned. Some of them used public transportation and were self-isolating until they could find a safe way to return to the building and minimize exposure.
"Do it, doctor." The agent's voice grew aggressive. "You two don't need to be alive for the tests." He gestured to the door, where Norman's face was visible. "Especially not him."
By the reaction seen through the window, Norman had heard their words clearly.
A chill raced down Domingo's spine at those words. Liz, what have you done to us?! He wanted to cry, but struggled to keep his voice even. He needed to get the staff working together. Some had vehicles. They'd have to pick each other up.
This was a disaster. He didn't want to think about what could happen if more of these agents ended up all over New York, tracking down his staff like prey.
He felt suddenly so hot… and the room was cool. Parallel Worlds - Parallel Lives (Alternate Universe) On The Road
The walk to the bus stop had been full of joking and comradery. Things were different while they waited for the bus, though. Jen was pacing back and forth -showing her agitation by chewing on her bottom lip.
The webswinger watched her quietly for a few minutes. When he noticed that she wasn't stopping, he sighed. Peter reached for Jen's hand, tugging on it to stop the restlessness. Looking into her face and noticing the distress plainly visible, he pulled her into a hug. He rested his chin on her head, wanting her to feel surrounded and safe.
"It'll be fine, Jenny. There's no need to worry."
Revealing just how fragile she felt, she trembled in his arms… unable to calm down.
Using one hand, he rubbed slow, soothing circles against her lower back. "You're going to be just fine. Just make sure you drink plenty of fluids and eat the snacks, okay? The rest will sort itself out."
"And you'll be back for lunch." Jennifer repeated, as if asking. Slowly, she returned the hug. The rhythmic sensation on her back made her feel better and she began humming softly.
Hearing a sound a few moments later, Peter lifted his eyes. Gently nudging her, Peter gestured to the approaching bus.
She pulled away from him slowly and offered a small smile. It helped. His words made her feel warm. He's right. Her smile wobbled only a little. I'll be fine.
Peter couldn't help smiling in return. He was glad he could help her, even if it was only in a small way. They boarded the bus together, and he insisted that she sit in the priority seating.
Light brown eyes flew to his in alarm and more than a little confusion. Why is he…
"Come on Je - Jess." Whew! He thought with a grimace. He had to remember that outside of their little bubble, she was someone else. It was the same for him.
"Edgar…" the faint edge in her voice was impossible for ignore. It was the same stubborn tone she used when discussing why winning a case wasn't impossible, no matter the circumstances.
He was well acquainted with that. This wasn't a court of law, though. Furrowing his brows, he pointed to the seats. "Sit…" He knew that commanding her to do anything might make her angry, but he didn't care.
Who does he think he is? Anger did begin to bubble a little to the surface, but she turned away from it. He wasn't going to stand down, and she didn't want to make a spectacle of herself on the bus. Reluctant and feeling very self-conscious, Jennifer sat down in one of the seats.
Peter stood right in front of her, his legs splayed, putting his body between her and everyone else. It wasn't that he feared she'd be attacked, but he felt almost an irrational need to ensure that she was protected. He only held onto the overhead bar with his left hand… not that he needed any help to maintain his balance at all.
"I don't belong here," she muttered in a low voice. "At all." Unconsciously, she angled her gaze at him in a way that made her eyes appear just a bit wider. While surprised at his display, she was grateful for the gesture. If making her feel secure had been his goal, he'd most certainly accomplished it.
Peter's brows rose sharply. "Nonsense," he replied in an undertone. "The seating here is for elderly, handicapped and pregnant women." He leaned close to her, a knowing grin stretching his mouth. "You know you fit right in one of those categories." As he spoke, his gaze moved to her midsection.
He wondered what Chip was thinking. Did the baby know that Jen was upset?
"Yes," she whispered, blinking rapidly in a bid to contain her emotions. Jen felt her cheeks growing warm at the admission. "I know." There was something to be said about admitting that in public. Currently, her boss still had no idea. She had variety of scenarios that played out in her head when she finally told him.
She hoped that he wasn't angry with her. As a lawyer, she knew exactly how women were treated on the job - and the average when pregnancies were disclosed. There was at times a poor reaction. The employers would then find a reason to fire the employee. That kind of thing wasn't limited to male employers either.
So far, she'd gotten along with her boss. Her absence over the weekend had been a first since she started, but she was still fairly new. Missing three days of work required a doctor's note, but she had that, along with additional paperwork for her boss to view.
That was what made her so nervous. The paperwork… detailed her condition and the requirement to rest at set intervals. She wasn't sure how he'd take that.
Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and tried not think of worse-case scenarios. Feeling sudden warmth, her eyes popped open again. Peter's hand was there, resting against her belly. She reacted in response as if on autopilot. The fingers of her right hand linked with his. Her left hand rested over them both.
"You have my pager number," he told her, needlessly, his voice lowering. "If you need me, page me."
Jennifer nodded; her gaze focused on their joined hands. "We need to get you a phone after work today."
To Be Continued…
Author's Note: I'd like to apologize for my absence. Thanks for not giving up on me.
A special thanks go to Cauã Vinícius . I saw your comment when I was coming out of a very dark place. Thank you, so so much!
Good News: I have someone who has willingly sacrificed volunteered time to help me edit the first four chapters of this fiction. I wish her the best as they're all very long reads.
Not So Good News: The dosage on my new medication has been increased, so I'm uncertain as to how well it'll affect my updates (which are already very delayed)… or my ability to write at all. This is especially upsetting as I planned on working to revise my first novel throughout June. And I still need to write and revise the next chapter for OA.
I'm MissLyst on WordPress if you ever wonder where I can be easily found. I'm not the best with updating my other social media accounts unfortunately.
Love you all! Thanks again!
J Lyst.
Additional Author's Note: Still dancing in place… still revising. Had some sushi for dinner, which is fantastic. The date for this revision is December 10, 2023.