private: Weeks from Hell, continued
Jan. 29th, 2006 09:34 pmLast week when Harry believed he was going insane and killing people as the Green Goblin was the worst, but this week was only partly better. Well, the one really good part was that Griffin is dead and can no longer poison Harry and he's back with me. On the downside, Tucker Wells got himself nearly killed and mauled by some beast and is in the hospital in a coma or something. Now I'd be a total hypocrite if I said that made me feel terrible for Tucker - he and I just tolerate each other at best, which doesn't mean I want him dead, but it doesn't mean I'm heartbroken over this, either - but Kara loves him, and I know how it feels like to have someone you love dying right in front of you, with nothing you can do.
Because as of now, Harry is. That stuff Griffin slipped him already killed Griffin, and if Peter doesn't find an antidote, it will kill Harry, sooner or later. And there isn't a thing I can do about it. I could find the real Goblin, too late, but I could find him, I could defeat him. When Kara got her soul sucked by that doll, I could find out the reason and destroy the thing, too. I can't stand magic, but it's part of my world, I get it, and for every spell, there is something to break it. It makes sense to me. But this is science, and I have absolutely zero idea of what to do.
Well. I had one idea. And I know I'll go to hell for even considering it. But ultimately Harry doesn't want that, and that cancels it out.
So Kara is going to pieces somewhere in Maine over Tucker Wells, and there is zilch I can do to help her. She sort of let me in in Boston when we thought she was pregnant, but not now. When she was here in New York eight days ago, it was clear it had all come back. And yeah, I know it's my fault. It always will be. Anyway, even in some bizarro AU where I and Harry never met, I probably still couldn't help her because what the hell do I know about surgery and science? See above.
And Harry is just barely not going to pieces here. I mean, considering some doctor he trusted stabbed him in the back and slipped him poison and he just spent several days trapped in his worst nightmare, and the clock is ticking all the time, it's a miracle he didn't lose it already. And I'm not - I should be strong and calm and all the good stuff, but wouldn't you know it, first time he really vents about everything that happened, I lose it, too. Now he has a bandaid on his neck, and - like he said. So much for no more scars.
It's just that I'm so freaking scared because I can't do anything. And I can't afford to be scared. I've got to be the one who holds it together. When I got back from walking Bailey today Norman The Bastard had finally deigned to show up and offer help in saving his son's life, and Harry had a cut in his arm.
Speaking of Osborn Senior. He also showed up again later, when I was in the training room, and informed me that if I truly wanted to help both Kara and Harry in a meaningful way, there was a perfect way to do it. I should walk out on Harry, he said. "We both know my son would go back to dear Miss Keating, no matter his protestations earlier, and that she would accept him. It would soothe her feelings. It would finally ease the guilt he bears for his treatment of her." And so on, and so forth.
I won't do it, but the awful thing is, I can't say he's entirely wrong. Kara would probably take Harry back, and it would cheer her up. And Harry feels more guilty than ever for breaking up with her now, because of the Tucker thing. It's just - well, maybe I'm the most selfish guy in the universe and just kidding myself, but I think he needs me. More than he needs to stop feeling guilty.
Then there is also the problem that with Peter researching on the antidote and me taking care of Harry, no one is around to guard the city, really. Peter pointed that out when we had a kind of clear-the-air-conversation after everything that went down with Griffin. First I thought I'd ask Faith or Buffy, and I knew I had to ask Kara, even if she couldn't because of school (that was before Warren posted about Tucker being in the hospital, of course), because she'd be mortally offended otherwise. But Faith has stuff going on in Chicago and Buffy is at college and I know how hard it is to catch up if you've missed out for a while. So I guess I just have to, well. Ask Angel.
It's not that I don't think he'd do it; of course he would. But he'd notice things. And - oh, to hell with it. So what. I can't stand the idea of people getting beaten up and dying because I'm freaked out over the idea of him noticing stuff.
In between, there was the thing with Cordy's husband the film star emailing everyone saying she was possessed. That completely freaked me out and I asked whether she was pregnant, and then he lost it and said Harry and I had made her and Kara lesbians. (Seriously. What does she see in that idiot?) Anyway, I visited, and it turned out there was actually another person in her body. Who wasn't Jasmine. But kissed me. I went and looked for the axis of Pythia which Angel had used once before to locate Cordy's soul. Gwen had sold it on ebay, but I finally tracked it down, but by the time Harry bought for me, Cordy was back in her body. Thank God. Or rather, thank Kara, who organized it before finding out about Tucker Wells. Hearing from the real Cordy again was definitely one of the better times this last week.
There were others, of course. When I'm not freaked out and worrying I'm just so damm happy Harry is back and alive and himself again. Sometimes when I watch him feeding Bailey too much (he never learns) or the other night when we were out and he danced in that great way he has, I thought of nothing but that, not about any of the other things. And it was a better rush than any fighting or anything else. Just that.
Because as of now, Harry is. That stuff Griffin slipped him already killed Griffin, and if Peter doesn't find an antidote, it will kill Harry, sooner or later. And there isn't a thing I can do about it. I could find the real Goblin, too late, but I could find him, I could defeat him. When Kara got her soul sucked by that doll, I could find out the reason and destroy the thing, too. I can't stand magic, but it's part of my world, I get it, and for every spell, there is something to break it. It makes sense to me. But this is science, and I have absolutely zero idea of what to do.
Well. I had one idea. And I know I'll go to hell for even considering it. But ultimately Harry doesn't want that, and that cancels it out.
So Kara is going to pieces somewhere in Maine over Tucker Wells, and there is zilch I can do to help her. She sort of let me in in Boston when we thought she was pregnant, but not now. When she was here in New York eight days ago, it was clear it had all come back. And yeah, I know it's my fault. It always will be. Anyway, even in some bizarro AU where I and Harry never met, I probably still couldn't help her because what the hell do I know about surgery and science? See above.
And Harry is just barely not going to pieces here. I mean, considering some doctor he trusted stabbed him in the back and slipped him poison and he just spent several days trapped in his worst nightmare, and the clock is ticking all the time, it's a miracle he didn't lose it already. And I'm not - I should be strong and calm and all the good stuff, but wouldn't you know it, first time he really vents about everything that happened, I lose it, too. Now he has a bandaid on his neck, and - like he said. So much for no more scars.
It's just that I'm so freaking scared because I can't do anything. And I can't afford to be scared. I've got to be the one who holds it together. When I got back from walking Bailey today Norman The Bastard had finally deigned to show up and offer help in saving his son's life, and Harry had a cut in his arm.
Speaking of Osborn Senior. He also showed up again later, when I was in the training room, and informed me that if I truly wanted to help both Kara and Harry in a meaningful way, there was a perfect way to do it. I should walk out on Harry, he said. "We both know my son would go back to dear Miss Keating, no matter his protestations earlier, and that she would accept him. It would soothe her feelings. It would finally ease the guilt he bears for his treatment of her." And so on, and so forth.
I won't do it, but the awful thing is, I can't say he's entirely wrong. Kara would probably take Harry back, and it would cheer her up. And Harry feels more guilty than ever for breaking up with her now, because of the Tucker thing. It's just - well, maybe I'm the most selfish guy in the universe and just kidding myself, but I think he needs me. More than he needs to stop feeling guilty.
Then there is also the problem that with Peter researching on the antidote and me taking care of Harry, no one is around to guard the city, really. Peter pointed that out when we had a kind of clear-the-air-conversation after everything that went down with Griffin. First I thought I'd ask Faith or Buffy, and I knew I had to ask Kara, even if she couldn't because of school (that was before Warren posted about Tucker being in the hospital, of course), because she'd be mortally offended otherwise. But Faith has stuff going on in Chicago and Buffy is at college and I know how hard it is to catch up if you've missed out for a while. So I guess I just have to, well. Ask Angel.
It's not that I don't think he'd do it; of course he would. But he'd notice things. And - oh, to hell with it. So what. I can't stand the idea of people getting beaten up and dying because I'm freaked out over the idea of him noticing stuff.
In between, there was the thing with Cordy's husband the film star emailing everyone saying she was possessed. That completely freaked me out and I asked whether she was pregnant, and then he lost it and said Harry and I had made her and Kara lesbians. (Seriously. What does she see in that idiot?) Anyway, I visited, and it turned out there was actually another person in her body. Who wasn't Jasmine. But kissed me. I went and looked for the axis of Pythia which Angel had used once before to locate Cordy's soul. Gwen had sold it on ebay, but I finally tracked it down, but by the time Harry bought for me, Cordy was back in her body. Thank God. Or rather, thank Kara, who organized it before finding out about Tucker Wells. Hearing from the real Cordy again was definitely one of the better times this last week.
There were others, of course. When I'm not freaked out and worrying I'm just so damm happy Harry is back and alive and himself again. Sometimes when I watch him feeding Bailey too much (he never learns) or the other night when we were out and he danced in that great way he has, I thought of nothing but that, not about any of the other things. And it was a better rush than any fighting or anything else. Just that.