When Flash turns up, Harry’s not sure what to expect. It takes him by surprise, really - he’s wandering around the hospital, dodging his nurses and hoping no one tries to usher him to bed, but as he turns a corner he sees Flash standing at the lifts and he’s not sure what he should do. Flash is one of the few people who knows the truth. At least maybe he’ll understand why Harry did what he did, even if it wasn’t the smartest idea.
“Flash.” Harry walks over to him, one hand gripping onto the wheeled stand with his IV and his medicine - the doctors thing starting some sort of management treatment early will help, and he might not feel different but Harry wants to believe it will help eventually. “Hey, man, please tell me you didn’t bring flowers. I’ve had so many bouquets arrive I’m running out of space for them all.”
"Oh, great..” He mutters under his breath as he steps back into his room to the sight of the same masked nut who was in his office, somewhat exhausted from the loop he’d done around the floor. It took some arguing but they’re finally letting him walk around, and Harry’s trying to walk away the jarred feeling in his joints, though he’s not sure if it’s from immobility or the illness, it’s too early to tell.
He doesn’t want to see her, of all people - her threats, her words, talking about him as though she knew what was going on, it had all been too much, and while mentally he might feel more prepared for another debate about what she thinks she knows, Harry doesn’t really want to deal with it right now. Not when he feels like all of the energy has been sucked right out of him, and the rash on his neck is itching like mad. “Did you use the door this time, or were you all cliche and came in via the window again?”
Harry can’t help but frown when he sees Miles poke his head into the room. “Probably not how you want to see your new boss, right?” He laughs weakly and gestures for him to come inside, stepping away from the window - they’re finally letting him stand, though Harry feels like his nurse still isn’t convinced he won’t just crumble under gravity’s pressure or something. Ridiculous. “It’s not really as bad as it looks.”
Harry pushes himself up a bit in his bed when Felicia walks in, a little frustrated with being stuck here. He knows she’s going to be mad at him, which he really doesn’t want to face right now, or mad at herself which he doesn’t want her to feel. And really, either way - he still has a company to run, he’s been out of action for a day. Things need to be dealt with, and it’s better than sitting here doing nothing.
“Please tell me you brought work with you.” He asks her before she can say anything, watching her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction and somehow he’s hoping she’s more mad at him than at herself.
MILES COULDN’T BELIEVE that Harry was actually buying him coffee right now. This sort of thing doesn’t happen to him normally, people doing good deeds for him. “It’s definitely a student thing.” He agreed with a smile to his face as he watched the other man purchase the coffee.
“Yeah, I love science. I wasn’t sure what to study at first, but biology felt right.” Miles said with a smile. “Really? Small world, we study almost the same thing.” Not that he was surprised, but it was still a good feeling. “Yeah? How does it help with work?” He asked to be all too nosy.
“Definitely - oh, thanks.” Harry takes the two coffees and holds one out to Miles, taking a sip of his own. He’s been running mostly on coffee and adrenaline lately, he hasn’t been able to sleep and he doesn’t see that changing any time soon, so he’s just about adjusted to drinking any coffee he can get his hands on.
“Yeah? you’re enjoying it?” He asks with a small smile - he’s spent his whole life fascinated by science, thank god considering his career path, but it’s still nice to hear when others enjoy it too. “I’d say I’m surprised I haven’t seen you in my classes, but that’s probably on me, I tend to get a little tunnel-visioned when I’m in there.” He raises an eyebrow for a moment before answering - no doubt Miles can find out who he is anyway, what good is it trying to pretend otherwise? “I’m CEO at Oscorp, I’d be kind of lousy if I didn’t know what my own business was actually doing with my money, right?”
Harry wishes they would let him out of bed so he could pace, so he could do something about this nervous energy in his body, but between the nurses watching over him like a hawk he can barely even move without one of them checking on him and he hates it. He’s only just been moved out of the ICU into his own room, the doctors satisfied he’s not in immediate danger, even though they’d talked a lot about action plans and managing the illness and medicine has taken leaps and bounds forward, Mr. Osborn, we’re much better prepared for your illness than we were when your father became ill.Â
He’s got his phone in a vice-like grip in his hand, stuck staring at the text messages, dreading this. he doesn’t want MJ to see him this way - it’s not as bad as it had been, or as it could be, but it’s bad. His skin is pale, his body is weak, the venom and the unfinished cure had been fighting against each other and Harry’s still not sure which one won, all he knows is he can feel that familiar feeling from two and a half years ago, when the illness started to set in, and MJ... she was there the whole time. He doesn’t want to do this to her again.
He didn’t want to do this to anyone again.
The door swings open and all of a sudden he’s staring her in the face, with absolutely no where to go and no way to avoid this. “Hi.” He mumbles softly, not entirely sure what else he can even say, not sure where to start.
“Harry. As much as we’ve both been in the papers it’d be a crime for me to not recognize you.” He spoke with a grin, holding a hand for Harry to take. “In my defense, he did contact me first and is an extremely hard worker. Lucky you though, he chose to stay.” Ted shrugged, “can’t really say it’s my loss. I’ve had people in and out of here for interviews all day.”
“Hey, I didn’t want to assume. You know, no one wants to be that guy who assumes everyone knows him, right?” Harry chuckles, reaching to shake the man’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll find a great alternative. Not as good as him, but..” Grinning, Harry tucks his hands in his pockets, his tone light enough - he’s not here to make enemies, but it’s pretty common knowledge Oscorp only employs the best. “How are you going with the set-up process? All running smoothly?”
told you and the Devil to both just leave me alone ;;
When: 18th May 2017, late evening
Summary; After his meeting with Spider-woman, the guilt of Harry’s actions and the pain he’s caused himself and his friends push him into a decision that puts his life in danger.
[NEWS REPORT: Late in the evening on May 18th, paramedics found the young Oscorp CEO, Harold Osborn, unconscious in the Oscorp Industries building. Sources say the illness that killed his father, Oscorp’s founder and previous CEO Norman Osborn, has finally struck his only son. Harold has been rushed to hospital for immediate treatment, but it’s currently unclear as to just how far his illness has progressed. Harold has relaunched Oscorp here in Star City with huge success and positive public support, not to mention their continuous community support, and plenty are hoping for a speedy recovery for the young CEO.]
When the so-called Spider-Woman finally disappears, Harry locks his office door and doesn’t let anyone in, doesn’t take any calls, doesn’t do anything except work. Work on the cure, the project, trying to find the closest simulation they’ve had so far to success. He can still hear her voice running through his mind, the accusations, the questions, the insinuation that she knows Goblin is somehow tied to Oscorp… tied to him. And the more he thinks about it the more his hands shake, the more his heart pounds, the more he can feel himself falling to pieces and he can’t do it. He can’t do it anymore.
Felicia bids him farewell for the evening, a little concerned but she must have a job to get to and he doesn’t blame her for not wanting to hang around, assuring her everything’s fine and he’ll see her tomorrow. He doesn’t want her to be part of this, not again - she still carries so much guilt from the last time, for telling him about the venom, about Special Projects in the first place and she wasn’t to blame, he would never say she was. But this time, he can protect her from that guilt. He can protect her from this.
He waits for the building to empty before he leaves his office, making his way into the lab they’ve been working in. All of the data is in there, the simulations, the equipment and chemicals to make the cure when they find the right sequence to work with his genes, to make him healthy again without bringing back the illness his genetics cursed him with. The only stop he makes is to the most restricted area of the entire building - the storage area with the remains of the venom, and the only person who can access it is Harry. He’s not letting anyone else put themselves at risk of this hell because he was careless. Never.
He’s hurt so many people, caused so much pain, and as hard as Harry’s tried, he can feel the guilt eating away at him, a constant reminder that he did this, he caused all of this, he gave so many people the pain they feel at this loss. And he knows, Peter and Jubilee and Julian, they keep telling him it’s not his fault. They keep trying to convince him, but Harry just… doesn’t know how to live with the knowledge that his hands killed her.
Even as he brings up the simulations on the large holographic display in front of him, Harry can see Flash’s face, the look of anger, of horror, of pain at the knowledge of what had happened. That his friend housed the monster that killed Gwen. He can hear MJ’s voice ringing in his ears, the anger and the anguish and the grief so raw and sharp that it still makes him feel dizzy just at the thought of it. She was right, in a way - Harry may not have done this to their friend, but he’s sure as hell responsible for Goblin’s existence in the first place.
The monster only exists because of the twisted pain inside Harry’s own mind - how can it not be his fault? How is he not to blame for all of this?
Picking out the sequence with the closest match to neutralise the venom and leave him in decent health, Harry can still see the crowd at the funeral, hear the echoing sobs all around them in the church, the cries of the boys as they wished for their sister to come back home. Helen, already so frail, already struggling, watching as they buried her daughter alongside her husband. Jim, a man so strong made to look so pained as they carried her casket together. Peter - a shell, so broken, so lost without her in his life. They were two parts of a whole, Gwen and Peter, and now she’s gone… because of Harry.
He takes out the syringe, the blue-green liquid of the cure so vibrant, the faintest possibility of hope that he could be free of this. And along with it… he can see Gwen. Crying. Her voice shaking, weak. Begging. Desperate to survive, to live. Harry can see her - he sees her every night when he tries to close his eyes. He’s barely slept in a week, so scared he’ll hear her pleas again, but now - now that he’s facing the possibility of being sure this will never happen again, he lets those memories drive him, that feeling of helplessness as his hands closed around her neck, the undeniable heartbreak he’d felt when Goblin let her fall to her death.
Harry takes all of that guilt and lets it drive him, sticking the needle into a vein on his arm and injecting the cure before he can stop himself. He can’t be this any longer - he can’t.
Even if it fails, even if - if this cure kills him, Harry can at least die knowing Goblin can never hurt anyone he loves again. And that’s worth it - that’s a small price to pay, for their safety.
He can feel the chemicals rushing through his system, and it burns, a harsh, screaming pain erupting in his body and Harry knows immediately something’s not right. Dropping onto the chair, he curls over the tabletop as he takes out his phone, dialling Jubilee’s number - she needs to know, he needs to tell her how much he loves her, that if this is the end of him he did it to keep her safe, to protect her from Him -
Hi, this is Jubs. You know what to do next!
“Babe -“ Harry’s words are cut off with a groan, loud and harsh and broken as the pain intensifies. “I did… I did something stupid, I’m sorry -“ He grits his teeth against the pain, like pins and needles times a thousand all over his skin and it’s torture. “I love you, Jubilee - I love you so much, I’m so sorry. I love you.”
He hangs up before letting out a strangled shout of pain, his mind too clouded to know who he can call from here. He can barely seen the screen of his phone as he searches for a name, and the only one that jumps out to him is Isabella’s and he dials it in desperation, his free hand gripping at the edge of the table as he tries to keep himself grounded.
Harry’s not sure how much sense he makes on the phone with her, mumbling something about work and cures and pain, oh god it hurts, please help me - He slips off the chair as he writhes, falling to the floor and the impact just makes everything hurt all the more, jarring his entire body and he can barely move. The phone drops from his hands and things start to go blurry, and it takes him a few moments to find his phone again only to find the call’s disconnected.
Clumsy, shaking hands shoot out pointless text messages, cries for help, desperate for someone to come and undo the stupid thing he’s done.
[Text → Julian]: he p it brns
[Text → Bucky]: Lt me kil h im
[Text → MJ]: u were ri t e
The seconds tick by as he tries to find someone he can call, somehow landing on Peter - Peter, who’s been working so hard on this cure, Peter who’s never let him down, Peter who’s believed in him no matter what he is, what lives in his mind, and Harry can feel his body growing weaker and weaker, he can barely hold the phone from how much he’s shaking, laying his head down against the floor as he presses the phone to his ear. “Peter.. Oscorp, I.. hel p m e…”
“I’m sure you have one, in the basement, collecting dust,” she replied. A soft snort left her lips. At least he managed to keep up with her, which was half the reason she had been friends with Harry back home, too. She looked around his office with a vague sort of interest, but all of her focus was on him. There was no way she could lose focus, not anymore—not when a mistake here could mean that she could never go home. Gwen wasn’t going to take that risk.
A shrug lifted Gwen’s shoulders. “A decent sense of humor is half the battle, dude, and that’s a battle you’ve won.” She tilted her head as she regarded him. There was a sort of anxiousness to him, to the way he was holding himself and the way his expressions flickered across his eyes. She could see it, even though most people wouldn’t notice it. After three years of doing this, she had sort of trained herself to see what other people didn’t. And when he spoke next, she realized what exactly was making him so anxious, and she was quick to tell him what she meant.
“It’s not a threat.” And it wasn’t. “What am I supposed to threaten you with when I’m here asking you for the information I need?” Gwen tilted her head. “It’s an appeal to your sense of morality, but if you’re willing to live with that guilt, there’s not much I can do.” She had been hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst—and this was somewhere in the middle, which she supposed wasn’t so bad. With nothing else she could do, however, and nothing else to be done, she found herself moving to the window.
A sigh left her lips, and she shook her head. Of course, he couldn’t give her what she needed. Why she ever thought this would be even a little easier than anything on earth 65 was beyond her, but she knew she wouldn’t be making that mistake again. Things were just as hard here, if not harder, and she was going to have to act like it. “I’m going to figure this out either way,” she said, pulling her hood up. “If you want help, all you have to do is ask,” she said, looking over him once more before she jumped out the window.
“I doubt it, this building is brand new. I’m sure no one even thought about it.” He answers with a shrug, the amusement fading. Whatever this feels like, no matter how familiar it feels to go back and forth with someone like this and how much he misses having that with Gwen... this woman, whoever she is, is clearly not Gwen Stacy. She can’t be. His friend is gone - she’s gone, and there’s nothing he can do to reverse that, and looking for signs of her in strangers, especially in this kind of situation.
“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow at her comment, and he’s sure she means it all as a joke. “So at least I can laugh when I’m getting my ass kicked, is that the idea?” Harry can barely even believe this is a conversation he’s having with someone - the idea of him as a hero is laughable. He’s never been meant for that. He’s sure even the way he is now is a wild disappointment to his father, risking the family name every time Goblin takes over. The concept of him being a hero in this city... it’s a ridiculous notion, and even joking about it just seems silly.
“You might want to work on your people skills, because it sounded a bit more like a threat.” He answers simply, trying not to take the bait. As much as Harry wishes he could trust this woman to help, he has no reason to believe that she can - if anything, all he knows is she might possibly have the power to expose him to the world and have him dragged back into Ravencroft, and that single thought is enough to make him clam up, even more sure before that he can’t say anything. To anyone. So many people already know and with every new person there’s more risk, more chance that he’ll be found out and Harry knows - he knows if he goes back in, they won’t let him out. Not again. And if there’s one thing in the world he can’t do, it’s to go back to Ravencroft.
Watching her as she moves to the window, Harry can’t help but wonder just what her plan had been. Had she really been naive enough to believe he would tell a stranger, a masked stranger, about himself? About Goblin? “Make an appointment next time, yeah?” He tells her bluntly as she makes her way out relieved she’s going but panicked about why she was here. There’s something in her words - in how sure she is that there’s something to find here that makes him anxious, and it’s hard for him to hold back the panic until she’s swung out the window, her words ringing in his head as he slumps down at his desk, curling in on himself. “Already asked, and no one can help me.” He murmurs to himself, completely lost as to what he needs to do next. All he knows is he needs all of this to stop before he can do hurt anyone else.
I’m lucky enough to have a few best friends, but Peter... Peter’s family. Peter’s practically a brother to me. We grew up together, we looked out for each other until I got sent away, and when I got back it felt so much like nothing changed. We laughed, we made fools of ourselves, we got each other through some really tough times and honestly, I’d be a much worse person if i hadn’t had Peter around to set my straight. My father was such a twisted man and he put me through so much pain, but.. Peter was the one who taught me I didn’t have to be that way, and I’m not even sure he knows he did that for me, but there you go.
He’s smart as hell, he’s got one of the kindest hearts I’ve ever known, and he always has his friends’ backs. He might make mistakes sometimes and he might not always know exactly how to say what he wants to say, but he tries and he finds a way and at the end of the day, I know he’s there for me. He’s been here for me through some of my darkest hours, and... after everything we’ve been through, I’m just glad he still calls me his friend.
 At first, Flash felt nothing. No remorse, no pleasure, no hatred. Just.. nothing. As if it was something he had to do. His mission as VENOM. And god, that’s probably what scared him the most. Although, mentally, he had no say. The symbiote’s tentacle-like appendages were wrapped around Harry’s arm, choking its blood circulation. A menacing, low hiss came from Venom’s large gullet as its jaws revealed the razor-like teeth. They were just close enough to nearly brush Harry’s nose, then it stopped.
Then, a small alarm sounded within the apartment. A program installed with the help of a certain rocket-loving raccoon. The alarm grew louder within the symbiote’s sense of hearing, however it was lowered to a dull roar for most. Venom shrieked, threatening to combust in a chaotic mess. Flash had a chance, and he took it. After more screams, the symbiote unraveled which only revealed the troubled man underneath.Â
 Coming to his own consciousness shortly after, Flash looked around to find himself on the floor. Then, his angry expression returned. However, Venom would be no threat. Flash was half the reason why he backed off in the first place. Perhaps it was the implication that Harry once threatened his own life, or the mutual feeling of helplessness towards chaos. Flash could relate, in too many of these ways.
Flash took a deep breath, his chest still heaving from the incident. “Who else knows?” He asked in a grim tone, as if the wrong answer to this question had very strong consequences. “I swear to god, if I’m the only person who knows..” Then again, he wondered if he should be more upset with the chance that he might be the only person who doesn’t. “Who else knows, Harry?”
Harry’s hoping his words are enough, the way he’s forcing himself to stay calm, the fact that he’s fending off Goblin to avoid an all out brawl between Him and Venom. Harry didn’t come here for a fight, and even as he feels his arm throbbing painfully as Venom tightens it’s grip on him, Harry has to believe that his friend is still in there. That they can be friends, after this - that Flash, of all people, will understand.
Venom gets closer and Harry can’t even see flash anymore, the hissing, the sharp teeth so close to his face, the sight of the symbiote wrapped around Flash and it’s a terrifying sight, horrifying knowing that this is consuming him, taking over and running it’s own course. “Flash, I know you’re in there - I know, because I’m always in there, too.” Harry’s voice is quiet, muted in comparison to Venom’s snarling - until something seems to stop. Harry doesn’t know what it is, the sudden alarm that begins to sound, but whatever it is it seems to have an effect and Venom lets his arm go. Harry gasps as he holds his arm against his chest for a moment, flexing his fingers before he starts bending his arm back and forth to restore the circulation, watching in horror and surprise as Flash - mostly him now, and less of Venom - collapses.
“Flash - no -” Harry drops to the ground beside him, trying to shake him back to consciousness and it takes a few minutes before he comes around, and the relief to see his eyes opening is almost overwhelming. He slumps back, stretching his legs out as he watches Flash, a little pained to still see a look of anger on his face - though he’s glad it’s not accompanied by Venom again.
“You’re not...” Harry sighs, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, not quite meeting Flash’s eyes. “You’re not. Jubilee knows. MJ always knew. Peter - Peter’s... the one who stopped Him in the first place, back in New York a couple of years ago. Friends of mine who are... trying to help me find a way to deal with it. She didn’t -” Harry’s voice catches in his throat, the memory swimming back of the fear in her eyes when she saw her friend’s face in front of her, even if it wasn’t Harry at the wheel. “She didn’t know until that night, when she saw Him..” Harry squeezes hie eyes shut, regretting putting them both through this. Flash didn’t deserve the burden of this knowledge. “I’m sorry, Flash.. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown this on you.”
ISABELLA: [Isabella didn’t really want to discuss Rosemary, and she hated the fact she’d stumbled onto the topic, even vaguely. She didn’t want to give that girl any thought at all, and she definitely didn’t want to discuss her with Jubilee’s boyfriend. There was nothing worthwhile to say about Rosemary, and anything that came to mind sounded petty and silly.] I’ve been in worse situations.
[She was quiet for a few seconds, looking down at her book.] If it helps take your mind off things, then I don’t mind talking about it. [Unsure how to begin, she sighed quietly, and closed her eyes, relieved that Harry couldn’t actually see her.] Do you ever feel… like you’re two people? [It was a stupid question, but it was how she felt, in that moment. She was one person around Joker, and Rosemary, and Duela, and someone completely different right now.]
HARRY: [As much as Harry dislikes that Isabella is in this sort of uncomfortable position, he’s glad to be able to talk about something else for a change - something other than himself, than Gwen, than the funeral, the constant ache in his chest from missing her.] Still, I’m sorry you’re in this position.
[Her question takes him by surprise, and he has to keep himself from jumping to answer with a very eager yes. Because he does, painfully so - he knows exactly how it feels, being two people, having two entirely different personalities, entirely different people living inside his own mind.] I.. I have an idea, of how that feels. [His answer is a little careful, hesitant in a way, somewhat worried about giving too much away.] Did that have something to do with this disagreement?
