marvel_nyc | Recovery and Reflection

Peter sagged back against the headboard, a ziplocked bag of ice pressed to his bruised ribs. It had been a little over a day since the incident with Ock and even with his advanced healing, it was going to take a bit longer than that for those cracks to mend themselves. At least he could breathe a littler easier now. Well, literally anyway.

There had been no word yet on Otto. All anyone had reported seeing that evening was Spider-Man swinging away from the wreckage of what had been an abandoned warehouse. Jonah of course, was speculating on what dastardly activities he could have been up to, though luckily for Peter his theories were still against public mood. For once, no one wanted to hear about the possibility that their hero was a fraud. It wouldn't last long, but for now he could make the most of it. There was enough to contend with without having the police breathing down his neck again.

Study guides for Connor's next exam were spread across his bed, neglected as Peter paid more mind to the radio on his bedside table. Eventually there would have to be a sighting. How long could a man with four metal arms hide in the country's most populated city?

Groaning, he wiped a hand over his face. This whole situation set his teeth on edge. There was no way he could just go out and start patrolling the city like this, but sitting here doing nothing was just as bad. Otto was out there now and Peter had no idea what he was up to. He turned to look at the door. Through the frosted glass he could see the outline of the payphone across the hall. Maybe he could try calling Harry again. He wouldn't pick up, but at least Peter could leave him a message, let him know to keep an eye out. Was it worth bothering? He thought about it for a moment and then got to his feet, grunting.

A few long seconds later, he was sliding a quarter into the slot and punching in Harry's number. Friend or not, it couldn't hurt to give him a heads up.

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The passing days had been the busiest Harry had been in a long while. When he wasn't at Oscorp, he was scheming or practicing with his new glider. It was better than drowning in whiskey at home, he supposed, but he knew if he stopped to think about what he was doing, he'd start to have doubts again. He couldn't afford that, not now. He was in too deep.

It was probably a miracle he was home at all when his phone rang. He usually left his cellphone at home when he was out training, just in case. It was probably business. It usually was. He scooped up the phone from his desk, almost answering it reflexively until the number registered. It was one he'd been seeing a lot of these days: Peter, calling from the payphone by his apartment. He stared at it for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Anger and sadness both hit him at once and he started to toss the phone back on the desk.

'Wait. You can use this, Harry,' Norman's voice interrupted, making him pause. 'You can get close to him. Make him think all is forgiven. He'll never suspect a thing while you enact your revenge on his loved ones.

"I... I can't. Dad, that's--"

Too horrible.

'You want revenge, don't you? Do it.'

Without thinking, Harry answered, but it was with more reluctance that he put the phone to his ear. What was he doing? It was easier to plot revenge when he didn't have to hear his pal's voice, much less look at him. It took him a moment to find the words, to will any cracks out of his voice.

"What do you want, Peter?"

He actually answered. Peter breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his friend's voice. It was angry, tense, but it was still there. That had to count as some kind of progress, didn't it?

"Harry, listen. I know you don't want to talk to me but there's something you need to know. It's about Otto Octavius- He's back. He survived somehow." He was fully aware of how ridiculous this all sounded, but by now he was sure that this was hardly the weirdest thing Harry has heard lately.

"I'm not sure what he's up to, but you should be careful. He might try to come after you."

"What?"

The word was practically barked out, but not out of surprise, like Peter might have thought. No, a boiling anger bubbled up in his chest because Peter knew. Otto made this big deal about Harry screwing up their partnership, and then turned around and outed himself? What the hell was he thinking?

But Harry had to pretend like he didn't know. How would he have reacted before? He'd never been a great liar, but keeping what was left of this plan in tact was integral.

"How--? I thought he drowned...!" 'Act afraid, Harry.' "What if he does? It's not like I can fight him off."

Peter leaned a little closer to the phone box, keeping his voice low.

"I'm not sure how he survived, but I'm trying to figure it out. Just try and keep a low profile and I'll do what I can to fix this." There was something off about the tone of Harry's voice that he couldn't quite place. There was fear, yes, but something else. Then again, it had been a long time since they'd spoken to one another and Harry was still bearing a pretty heavy grudge.

He drummed his fingers anxiously against the wall.

"Whatever he's after, I promise I won't let him get to you. Any of you."

"Kind of hard to keep a low profile when you're the only businessman who can still get his hands on tritium, Peter," Harry insisted, trying to keep the same level of fear and concern in his voice, even add an edge of indignation for good measure.

There was a part of him touched by Peter's promise, but the Goblin forced that brief relent back down underneath the anger, the hatred for Spider-Man. He had to stop and think about how to respond to that for a moment.

"I'm still mad at you," he snapped at last... but then his voice softened a little, losing a bit of its edge, aimed to make Peter think he was relieved. "But... thank you."

Recovery and Reflection

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a million years later. Next reply will be sooner and longer I promise

no worries <3

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