goblinjr: (➥ Things you swore you saw yourself.)
Harry Osborn ([personal profile] goblinjr) wrote in [community profile] skyscapes2016-05-14 12:11 am

( for [personal profile] spideyguy, continued! )

A few weeks ago, Harry fired Otto Octavius — a brilliant scientist known for his knowledge in nuclear physics and biochemistry — for his arrogant, destructive behavior regarding his research. So determined to see his project through, Otto had refused to see the flaws in his calculations, no matter who pointed them out. Even after causing an accident in the labs, Otto insisted he could stabilize the project. Harry wasn't convinced. He told Otto to move on, that he was pulling the plug on the project. Otto was outraged, of course, and he refused to drop it. Harry gave him an ultimatum: move on or leave Oscorp. "You don't have the spine," Octavius had snarled. ...So, Harry gathered all his courage and fired him. To say that Otto wasn't happy about it... well. That was a gross understatement. He somehow broke into Oscorp a couple days after that, stealing the reinforced titanium smart arms he'd been using for his research, and now he was determined to make Harry's life hell. Harry didn't feel safe at work or at home, didn't dare staying at Peter's. The paranoia was wearing on him. It was evening now at the Osborn penthouse. Harry paced around in his office with a glass of whiskey in hand. Restless. He kept thinking about what his father would do, and it only made him feel worse. Norman Osborn never let himself get overwhelmed with Oscorp. He wouldn't have tolerated this. He would have found a way to stop Octavius in his tracks after the first threat. But Harry wasn't his father and he had to figure this out his own way. He just wished he knew what "his own way" was. Harry paused to stand in front of the full-body mirror, studying his reflection. His curly hair was in complete disarray, shadows formed under his eyes, and he was hunched over, jittery looking like a deer. He looked tired and weak. What could he possibly do against Otto Octavius?

In a fit of frustration, Harry hurled his glass of whiskey at the mirror, shattering it. With his reflection gone, he started to turn, until he realized there was a room behind it. So stunned, he didn't even notice the broken glass embedding into his stockinged feet as he ventured into the hidden passageway. It turned out to be a huge workshop containing all of his father's Goblin gear; he never would have imagined this being here. Harry sifted through the research notes he found — there was a lot he didn't understand — but he was able to catch that Norman had been working on a variant to the serum he'd used on himself. It was supposed to be more stable than the previous one.

That's when the gears in Harry's mind started turning. The serum had given his father immense strength, hadn't it? Made him superhuman? And he had all this weaponry! With this improved serum, Harry could level out the playing field, to fight back against Octavius! He could-- No... Suddenly reality punctured Harry's train of thought, bringing his brainstorm to a screeching halt with a reminder of why his father had all this stuff in the first place. Suddenly feeling sick, Harry doubled over and buried his head between his hands. It would be thoughtless and cruel to take up his dad's stuff, even just to defend himself. He couldn't do that to Peter, to everyone else who had been hurt by Norman. ...But Harry was scared. No one could protect him from Octavius. He had to protect himself! ...Right?

How long he'd been debating with himself, Harry couldn't say for sure, but after a while, he trudged back out into the office, tracking small streaks of blood on the hardwood floor with his forgotten glass-riddled feet. All he could really decide on was that Peter had a right to know what he'd found. Maybe he could help him figure out what to do. Numbly, Harry reached for his phone and pulled up Peter's name.

"Peter?" His voice cracked; he tried not to wince at the sound. "I know it's kinda late, but I really need to talk to you." He was almost tempted to leave it at that, but... "It's important. —I found my dad's stuff. Not just the..." Weapons. He trailed off for a few seconds. "There's journals and research notes, too." A beat; he took an audible breath. "A-And the serum."
spideyguy: (Woah)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-14 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Ever since he'd reconnected with Harry, life had been...better. He was going to classes now, bringing his grades back up. He wasn't able to sell as many pictures, but he did get a job at the campus bookstore. Life was normal for the first time in a long time, and Peter was able to breathe a little easier. It still weighed on him, everything that had happened, but when it got to be too much for him, Harry was there. The opposite happened sometimes too, and Peter was relieved he was able to be there and support his friend. His Spiderman suit still sat at the back of his closet, but when Peter thought of it there, it wasn't with overwhelming guilt. It was with a reasonably calm confidence - he'd be back. Gwen's memory deserves to be honored, and there was no better way to do that than to continue fighting for the city she loved just as much as he did.

He's dozing over a textbook when Harry calls, jolting awake at the ringtone. He answers it quickly to stop the ringing from waking his Aunt, glasses lopsided on his face. "Hello?" Peter blinks blearily at the clock, watching it blur into the red '3:38 AM' it currently read. What? Who was calling him at three on the morning? "Harry?"

His tone makes Peter still, hand poised to rub his eye. Harry found - what, a Goblin lair? Peter supposed that made sense. They'd done a top to bottom search of Oscorp, but Norman hadn't left anything in the labs or the vaults. Peter had been too deeply in grieving to care much about the cleanup. Maybe he should have, snuck in and tried to find it.

"Harry don't - do not touch that serum." Peter couldn't help the flare of panic in his voice when Harry mentioned the experiment. After what it had done to Dr. Connors, to Norman, to himself - he didn't know why it worked on him (define worked, they certainly hadn't intended for him to start climbing walls, but as side effects go, it's a managable one) - the idea of something bad happening to Harry was mildly terrifying. "It's not stable, don't risk it. I'm on my way."

He was skipping his morning lecture, it was official. But this was definitely more important. He was already pulling on clothes, keeping the phone at his ear as he twisted into a fresh shirt. "How did you even find all that stuff? It must have been hidden from the police?" He shoves his wallet and keys into his pocket before grabbing his skateboard. It'd be faster at this hour anyway.
spideyguy: (Talking 2)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-15 05:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Peter never really had been able to keep regular hours, crime-fighting or not. He'd often get in trouble with Uncle Ben, who always seemed to know if Peter was awake reading scientific theories by flashlight under his comforter. Aunt May was a little more lenient if it was something educational (which it almost always was), but once he's hit 18 she'd stopped trying beyond the firm suggestion that he at least try for eight hours of sleep. "Good." The relief in his voice was audible. It ocurred to him that they didn't really know what was in the serum - he had no idea if it was reversible (it seemed pretty permanent thus far).

It sounded a litrle flimsy, but Peter was busy crawling out his window, so he blessedly didn't call Harry on the lame excuse. "Dude, you okay? I mean there's probably glass everywhere, watch yourself." He's nodding in agreement, though Harry can't see him, slowly easing the window shut. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, because if his Aunt found out he was heading over to Harry's in the dead of night she'd worry. She cared for Harry just as much as Peter did; she didn't need to be burdened with whatever was going on. "I wasn't going to say it, but yeah, it's a little unnerving in there."

"Yes you can, but it's too slow. What, you worried I'm going to get mugged?" Peter infused a bit of teasing into his tone, trying to keep the mood light. He jumped off the roof, landing quietly on the balls of his feet, phone still tucked between his ear and his shoulder. "With these fists of fury? I'll be fine dude."

"What else was in there?" Peter asked, unable to help his curiosity. Besides, it might help knowing what exactly he was walking into. He tosses the skateboard on the pavement, kicking off down a hill. Swinging would have been faster, much faster, but he wasn't quite ready for that. Besides, skateboarding was a good way to clear the head. "Have you called the police?" Which, if he hadn't, begged the question - should they? Peter would much prefer they both have the chance to assess it first, but...it was, technically, evidence.
spideyguy: (Talking)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-16 07:02 am (UTC)(link)
Peter zipped around the corner, frowning when Harry's voice cut out for a second. That was a suspicious pause, but Peter wouldn't really know until the got there. This only made him kick off faster, cutting edges hard. "Do you even own a broom? When I get there you better be wearing fuckin' shoes."

"Hey! I resemble that remark!" Peter grinned, slowing only a little when a car turned onto the road in front of him. Contrary to the movies, people didn't really like it when you bummed a free ride off the back of their truck, Back To The Future style. Not in New York, anyway; turns out most people liked a bit of space. "You haven't seen me throw a punch in several years. I've gotten better."

"...yeah, kinda. Are you sure you want to look through it?" Peter fretted, more for Harry than his own mental health. In all honesty, they should...probably destroy the serum and any notes pertaining to it. Just ruin it so it could never wreak this much havoc again. Easier said than done, though, wasn't it? "You really might not like what you find. And I know we - talked about it, Harry, but the Goblin wasn't your father." No, the Goblin had consume Norman Osborn until there wasn't much left. It was much easier to separate the two personalities when you didn't have the transitional evidence in front of you. "You don't have to read the journals."

"Holy shit." Peter jumped a curb, frowning at the noise of pain. "The hell are you doing, Harry? What was that noise?"
spideyguy: (Talking)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-16 07:33 pm (UTC)(link)
"I don't know, maybe you're all up on that Swifer technology. Cutting edge, I hear." Peter snorts, glancing up at a street sign as he flies past. Not that he doesn't know the way to Harry's house by muscle memory, at this point, but still. "You'd be the worst roommate ever. Honestly Harry..."

He grins at the laughter, which had diffused some of the tension this subject was bound to create. Just until he got there, hopefully. "I'm wily! The key is to duck and dash." Even before the bite, he'd been one for dodging, reasonably quick on his feet. Made him a terror in dodgeball, though he'd never been particularly proficient at actually throwing the ball back at the other team.

"You don't." Peter reminded him firmly. "You don't owe him anything, Harry. I just want you to be sure you understand that. If you want to, that's different but - you can't take this back. Once you see it, you have to live with it." But he knew Harry wouldn't stop, even if he wasn't aware of all the motivations behind it. Harry was stubborn, that way, always had been. Peter is suddenly, fervently glad that Harry called him. He didn't want to think about what might have happened if he'd been alone with all of this, trying to deal on his own.

"You're the worst liar," He pedaled harder - maybe a little too hard, as the board creaked ominously in protest. "How did the glass even break, man? How do you accidentally break a mirror?" Peter frowns, pressing the phone tighter against his ear and leaning out a little too far on his board. The only reason he was still on it was the superhuman grip of his feet. "How bad is it?"

"What are you talking about?" Peter's frown deepened with worry. So Harry had been hiding something. Why was Peter not surprised? Maybe this was why they were such good friends; a shared affinity for dumbass self-sacrifice. "Alright, hold on, I'm almost there. Then you're spilling everything. No cutting corners, Osborn."
spideyguy: (Talking)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-17 06:49 am (UTC)(link)
"Have you found the broom yet?" Peter asked obnoxiously, grinning on his end. "You'd be the roommate that leaves his socks tucked in the couch and I'd murder you in cold blood. Aunt May trained me as a sleeper cell."

God only knew what Norman would say. Everything Peter had struggled to keep secret, to keep Harry out of, could come crashing down with the right words from Norman. It went above him, too, to this nebulous plot his parents had been involved in with Oscorp - and if they could keep it that way, in the past? Let Harry take the company in a fresh direction, uninhibited? All the better. He knew it was not terribly nice of him, but part of Peter hoped Harry wouldn't visit Norman. It would just make everything easier for everybody in the long run - really, though, they were just putting off the inevitable.

"Dude." Peter's voice was soft, audible despite the wind whipping past. "Normally I'd offer to kick the ass of whoever upset you, but somehow I don't think kicking your ass would make you feel any better."

"'It looks worse', what are we talking here? You're a big baby and it's hardly anything, or the hallway scene from The Shining?" Peter tilted the board, grinding to a hard stop. This left skid marks on the pavement, and he flipped the board up, tucking it under his arm. He had just finished bounding up the steps to Harry's door with it was unlocked, and Peter offered a tired smile, readjusting his glasses. His hair was a mess, both from the wind and dozing at his desk, and he was just this side of breathless. "Well? Spill it, Nixon."
spideyguy: (Glasses)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-17 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
"If you can catch me!" Norman would always yell at them if they ran past his study too many times. But when he was out and they were young? Constant mayhem. "Socks in the couch. Do what you want in your own room, don't defile the couch. And my feet do not smell!"

"I mean, it made sense to me," Peter grinned at the half-laugh. It was something. "Bloody footprints are you serious? When did your life turn into a Stephen King novel?" Somehow Harry's reassurance didn't make Peter feel any better. He must have been seriously upset for all of this to happen - smashing a mirror at 3 in the morning, cutting his feet and not even flinching - the question was, why? What happened?

"I mean, the cops can't arrest a guy on a skateboard for going over the speed limit." Peter grinned, stepping over the threshold into the house. Hell yeah, he was worried. And Harry - he looked like hell warmed over. Whatever it was that was bothering him, that he'd kept from Peter, it had to be bad.

"Only if I can see the damage to your bipedal appendages." Damn right, he wasn't dropping it. He just wanted to make sure Harry knew. "You're one to talk. You look like a vampire trying veganism. Have you been eating?"
spideyguy: (93)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-19 02:42 am (UTC)(link)
"My reflexes would save me," Peter grinned, though that joke was funnier to him than it probably would to Harry. They both knew his reflexes were total crap, just as much as Harry's aim (their brief, yet hilarious attempt at little league was one for the ages) - or they had been. It'd be a real struggle if Harry did decide to throw anything at him, though; Peter couldn't just turn it off. "I try to do my own laundry! She won't let me! It's insane."

"At least you know it." Peter chided, already heading for the kitchen. Probably better Harry explain everything downstairs before they went up and assessed the damage. They also needed to take care of his foot - Peter knew a lot more than he should about first aide by this point in his life, but he'd just chalk it up to Aunt May being a nurse and hope Harry didn't care enough about it to poke. "Harry, come on, you might not have seen all the glass. Just let me help."

Harry seemed okay, though, enough to be emoting. That was something. Peter leveled him with a neutral look, letting it sink in that he so didn't believe him. "Uh huh. I'm sure you're getting every tier of the food pyramid." Make that a beeline for the fridge, and a thorough examination of the contents, water be damned.

"How do you feel about French toast?"
spideyguy: (22)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-19 06:26 am (UTC)(link)
"It's not that hard! You put the soap in, you put the clothes in, you turn on the water! And I only turned it red and blue once." Washing the flag, the lamest excuse he could come up with at the time, but to be fair he was kind of sleep-deprived? Still, Peter is firmly of the opinion that he should be washing his own clothes. "Science it into what, exactly?"

As if Peter doesn't know it, too. Part of why, in their younger years, he tried to get Harry to come over to his more often than not. His Aunt was perfectly willing to dote on a boy who didn't get as much attention from his father as he should, and shower the two boys in homecooking (and yeah, Aunt May was better at crockpot recipes and baked goods, but everybody had flaws). "I can see your face, no use lying. Have you been sleeping?"

Peter paused with the fridge open, staring at Harry for a second. Alright, maybe he'd only been dealing with the problems he could see - if Peter was being honest, the whole thing was making him twitchy. He was happy to flee to the kitchen and focus on taking care of Harry, especially if it came with the added bonus of avoiding dealing with the dangerous shit upstairs.

So instead Peter sobered, closing the fridge and trying not to fidget as he stood next to the kitchen island. Moments like these were what made him want to crawl, climb up into the highest corner of the room and squish himself there. Much like a spider, he couldn't help it.

"Just let me see your foot." Peter said quietly, pulling out one of the island barstools for Harry to sit on. "And tell me what's going on, Harry. Please."
spideyguy: (23)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-19 06:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"Have you ever seen a washing machine?" Color him unconvinced. "There aren't nearly enough parts! A space capsule, maybe - "

"Jesus, Harry, how are you not in a medically induced coma?" Peter shook his head, kneeling down by Harry's foot to look it over. He unwrapped it as carefully as he could eyes scanning over the damage. Yeah, that wasn't looking good. "Did you disinfect this?" He ran a finger over some of the smaller slivers of glass, letting his sentae stick to them and dislodge them. Hopefully it was subtle enough Harry didn't notice it.

"Are you serious?" It's a rhetorical question, he can see Harry is serious, but this had Major Threat written all over it and Peter was a little gobsmacked. Which begged the question, how had Peter not heard about this? Maybe Harry was keeping his mouth shut, sure, but none of the newspapers had picked up the story. And someone breaking into Oscorp vaults? That was big.

"Threatening you how?" Peter glanced up from his task with Harry's foot, brow furrowing in thought. This had clearly shaken Harry to his very core, and that wasn't sitting well with Peter. How was it all the supervillains in Peter's life kept coming out of Oscorp? It had to have been Norman's continued influence, resisting to the changes Harry was trying to make for the better of everyone. "What did he tell you, Harry?"

"I'll help you." Peter said quietly, and he meant it. Not that it would make Harry feel better in the moment, what was Peter Parker going to do? But if there were ever a more important time to get back in the saddle, Peter would eat his glasses. Besides, the idea of anything happening to Harry was way too much to bear. "We'll figure it out, you and me."
spideyguy: (96)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-20 03:53 am (UTC)(link)
"We have exhibitions, this is a proper college we're talking about here, Harry. Aren't you supposed to attend those, or something? Scout out new talent? I'm pretty sure Oscorp frickin' sponsors the whole thing - " He'd never sleep his phone would be ringing off the hook. Or they'd be living together, which was only a recipe for disaster.

"What you used should be enough there's just - still some glass here. I got it," Peter assured him, giving his foot a second pass before rebandaging it, tighter than before. Then it was the same treatment for the second one, methodical and tender. He certainly didn't want to cause undue pain.

"Christ. And you haven't thought about - maybe, a bodyguard or something?" Not that it would help much but it might make him feel a little safer. It sounded to Peter like Otto was playing the long, psychological game. And he was winning, if the state Harry was currently in was any indicator.

The panic is not something Peter was expecting, and his hand flew to Harry's wrist reflexively. But it wasn't a threat, of course it was Harry, and Peter swallowed around the instinctive notion of freeing his person. The desperate grip was more than enough to get his attention, but Peter just let his free hand move to Harry's shoulder, pulling him against his chest in a hug. They were smearing blood between them - not like Peter had a chance to wash his hands - but he let his palm spread out against his friend's back, struggling to stay calm. One of them had to.

"I'm already here. Besides, you think he's not going to come after me even if I wasn't? What else do we have left?" Peter squeezed Harry a little tighter, willing his own heartbeat to slow. "You, Aunt May, that's all I got. That's all you got too, Harry."
spideyguy: (91)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-20 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
"Let's pretend to be grown-ups for five minutes, yeah?" Peter snorted, because damn if Harry wasn't completely right about not-exactly being qualified. Still. Wasn't there something about appearances being kept up or something in his cotillion handbook? "It's still your company, dude." Peter sooo wasn't about to admit his weakness for Harry's cooking. The fucker already knew, anyway.

"Nurse for an Aunt," Peter offered a thin smile, collecting the glass slivers in a careful pile on the kitchen island. It was a small, yet sizable pile, glistening under the lights when you turned a certain angle. "Should probably pop a Motrin, too."

"There has to be someone who can help. You're trying to tell me there aren't mutant bodyguards?" As far as they knew, all Otto had going for him were the arms. Peter silently told himself to get more information on them. Namely weak points in the design. They were always there, with every machine.

Peter closed his eyes, taking a deep, even breath. They'd be fine. Now that Peter knew what was going on, he could help. Harry was hanging by a thread and Peter wasn't sure how the hell it had all spiraled out of control like this, completely unbeknownst to him. Maybe they were both better at keeping secrets than they thought.

"Harry." Cold dread flushed through Peter, all the way down his spine. His fingers curled in Harry's shirt, quivering a little, and he shook his head, pulling back enough to look his friend in the eye. "Harry, no. That is definitely not worth the risk that serum - "

It just kept taking more and more from them, didn't it? How many lives had it claimed now? Six? His parents, Captain Stacy, Dr. Connors, Gwen, Norman - left him in the aftermath, and why? Why had it worked for him? Peter honestly had no idea.

"You can't. You can't, Harry - " Peter took another breath, trying to get a grip. "That serum will never be stable." Except for the one time it worked. But Peter wouldn't even begin to know how to replicate it.
spideyguy: (68)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-20 05:02 pm (UTC)(link)
"What can I say, I aim big." Peter snickered, more than aware that it was kind of a ridiculous idea, the two of them, being adults. "I'll probably be there anyway. Come on! It'll be fun, come to the next one."

Peter just smiled, as opposed to saying 'practice makes perfect'. Slivers of ice weren't dissimilar from glass. "That's what I'm here for." Peter bandaged up Harry's other foot just as tightly as the first, tucking the ends of the gauze in on itself so it wouldn't unravel.

"I'll research it for you." The things you could find in back alleys. And yeah, maybe you'd have to weed through some, but at this point? Peter would come up with something. There were a few strings he could pull. "Which I've never understood. Just because a few chromosomes were activated. It's literally just like Downs, except instead of trisomy 21 they have the X gene."

"You don't get it. Jesus, Harry, you take that serum and you've already lost us. You'll lose yourself! Then what the hell is it worth?" Peter was suddenly, fiercely frustrated. Not with Harry - out of everything, how could he be mad at Harry? It was his own fault. Peter pushed his glasses to the top of his head, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. The anger drained out of him as quickly as it had taken hold. He had to tell him. Part of it, anyway. Enough to make it click.

"I found my dad's old briefcase." His hands were still over his eyes, perhaps too chicken to watch the expression on Harry's face as he told him. "I found this old file, about his research. I thought maybe if I took it to Connors - I don't know, I just wanted to know more about them." He sighed heavily. "I gave Connors the formula he was missing from the file. It was supposed to stabilize the serum. But it didn't."

Now he looked up, reaching out to grasp Harry's shoulders. "Whatever puzzle piece we're missing, whatever made that serum work in animals but not in humans - it's gone, Harry, my dad took it to his grave. He did it for a reason, too, I mean - just look at what it can do! Look at the kind of havoc it can wreak. Please. Don't let yourself be another casualty on that list."

"You don't need it. Octavius doesn't have anything, just those metal arms." Peter froze for a second, gears turning. Octavius was still just a human, underneath. He'd built webshooters. That had nothing to do with his powers. Well, maybe a little. 'Inspired by radioactive spiderbite', wasn't exactly something he was going to inscribe on the back of them, but. "...What about a laser watch?"
spideyguy: (55)

[personal profile] spideyguy 2016-05-20 11:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'll be there to poke you awake. Besides, there are some cool experiments around. The thesis projects all look insane - "

"More like expert web-archeologist, but sure." Peter smiled thinly, all to aware of the truth to Harry's words. With more and more mutants - or perceived mutants, nobody bothered to ask Spiderman if he was actually a mutant - popping up nowadays, it had the public on edge. But what could you really do, in response to the 'mutant' threat?

What could he say? 'Sorry I gave a crazy scientist the super secret algorithm he needed to kill a bunch of people? Oh, and then it only enabled your father to turn himself into a crazy psychopath? Now your dad's in the madhouse, people are dead, and your company is going down the toilet and it's pretty much all my fault?'

Yeah, not mentioning it ever was a much better option.

"It's not your fault, Harry. God, none of this is your fault." He's the most blameless out of all of them. The fact that Otto went off his rocker because Harry was trying to do the right thing - that wasn't really his fault either. But, of course, try convincing him of that - Peter already knew he'd lose that battle.

"Yeah, and you're Harry Osborn. When has Harry Osborn ever let anybody walk on him, genius or not?" Peter's hand was still on Harry's shoulder, but his mind was elsewhere, running through their options. "No, I know, but - what if we built something that you could use to protect yourself? I don't know, like an overpowered taser or something. Something that could stop the arms. There has to be a way." Peter really has no idea what they could make, but Harry has access to the best laboratories this side of Manhattan. There had to be something they could come up with to let Harry defend himself, without resorting to the serum.

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