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[Osborn Plot] It Begins.
Continued from here
I walk faster than's strictly necessary, but not fast enough that she can't keep up. Even as we move further and further away from the field, I stay on the lookout, not wanting to risk the chance that I'll miss something -- or someone. People might call this paranoia. I call it being smart. The way I see it, my concerns – and boy, am I concerned -- are entirely called for. 'Cause, well, Norman Osborn isn't exactly your typical psychopath. Just before my three hour tour got extended, I spent months thinking Aunt May was dead because he had a few of my old pals bury her alive in Uncle Ben's grave,* all from the comfort of his prison cell. The prison cell Cat and I had to help him break out of. Long story. And that's not to mention the clones,** Mary Jane's miscarriage,*** Harry's drug addiction,**** Harry's death...*****
Gwen. Not only did he kill the woman I love,****** he apparently killed the mother of his own children.******* I wish I could say that was it. I wish I could say that list of things was finite, but that's only the tip of the iceberg.
And now he's here.
I let go of her hand abruptly – or what I imagine probably looks abruptly, seeing as MJ's not psychic – and I jump up onto the nearest boulder without breaking stride, using the extra height to grab onto a branch. Kicking my legs forward, I use the momentum to swing up and over, finally landing in a crouch. A normal person might be holding onto the tree for dear life. Me? I dig my elbows into my knees and hang my head in my hands.
I don't say anything for about a minute, too busy trying to not hyperventilate. Then: "It happened this morning."
*MKSM #9-12
** ASM #121, ASM #149,
***SM #75
****ASM #96
*****SSM #200
******ASM #121
*******ASM #509 What can we say? Norman's been a busy guy! – Notating Nix.
I walk faster than's strictly necessary, but not fast enough that she can't keep up. Even as we move further and further away from the field, I stay on the lookout, not wanting to risk the chance that I'll miss something -- or someone. People might call this paranoia. I call it being smart. The way I see it, my concerns – and boy, am I concerned -- are entirely called for. 'Cause, well, Norman Osborn isn't exactly your typical psychopath. Just before my three hour tour got extended, I spent months thinking Aunt May was dead because he had a few of my old pals bury her alive in Uncle Ben's grave,* all from the comfort of his prison cell. The prison cell Cat and I had to help him break out of. Long story. And that's not to mention the clones,** Mary Jane's miscarriage,*** Harry's drug addiction,**** Harry's death...*****
Gwen. Not only did he kill the woman I love,****** he apparently killed the mother of his own children.******* I wish I could say that was it. I wish I could say that list of things was finite, but that's only the tip of the iceberg.
And now he's here.
I let go of her hand abruptly – or what I imagine probably looks abruptly, seeing as MJ's not psychic – and I jump up onto the nearest boulder without breaking stride, using the extra height to grab onto a branch. Kicking my legs forward, I use the momentum to swing up and over, finally landing in a crouch. A normal person might be holding onto the tree for dear life. Me? I dig my elbows into my knees and hang my head in my hands.
I don't say anything for about a minute, too busy trying to not hyperventilate. Then: "It happened this morning."
*MKSM #9-12
** ASM #121, ASM #149,
***SM #75
****ASM #96
*****SSM #200
******ASM #121
*******ASM #509 What can we say? Norman's been a busy guy! – Notating Nix.
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It wasn't an actual answer to his question, but she didn't want to say anything that might affect his decision. There were bigger things at stake here.
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And I'm starting to have the sneaking suspicion that she suggested that from personal experience.
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"I'm hoping you weren't doing that before anyway."
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"I think I'm going to... head home," she said weakly, not bothering to try to hide the unsteadiness of her voice. "Maybe get some things together, stay the night at a friend's. Not really sure I want to be where I could be found right now."
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"I love you, too," she murmured, the words half-muffled, and she breathed in deep, relishing the embrace as if it were going to be the last one. "We'll... we'll get through this. Somehow."
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