Honey, I Can Fix You (Gonna Break You Down Again)
The Goblin follows the trail of (minor) destruction the good ol' Doctor Octavius leaves in his traversal. Scratches in the concrete and brick walls as his tentacles leap buildings--that may be a quick way to hurry through the city buildings, but subtle, it is not.
The Goblin grins. This world is amazing. Back home, there is nothing (my son my son where is my son oh god SHUT UP) but here the possibilities are endless. No need for Norman here. The Goblin will run things that Norman was too weak to do. But first--
The Goblin sees the retreating shape of the Doctor, and plucks a can of stolen web fluid from his pocket. The Doctor turns around at the cackle the Goblin lets out, perfect as the cannister explodes across the Doctor's chest and tangles in the tentacles. A pellet of sleeping gas thrown at the sputtering Doctor knocks him out of commission quick, and when the tentacles, tied down as their AI is with the inhibitor chip, struggle to process their next move, the Goblin plucks one weakened claw off the wall and drags the Doctor away.
The weight is awkward and ungainly, but the Glider is a marvel of Oscorp technology. The Goblin is even conscientious enough not to batter the dangling Doctor Octavius against any walls as he flies them away into the night.
- - - -
The Goblin finds them a nice, quiet building under construction, empty and silent save for the wind whistling through the concrete and the fluttering of tarps. The tentacles, brilliant, beautiful AI that they are, twitch and flail without purpose or guidance. Without the inhibitor chip, oh, the Goblin is sure they would (try to) make short work of him for manhandling them and their creator, but as it is, it's short work to tie them down.
The Goblin remembers when these lovely creations were just sketches in Otto's workbook. He lets one hand trail over a mechanical appendage, smiles when it tries and fails to squirm away with a jittery shriek. Neutered as the AI is, it still recognizes him as a threat.
The Goblin drapes the Doctor over a nearby sawhorse, quietly hmms while the good Doctor begins to stir. He takes Otto's face in his hands, smooths his thumbs over the cheekbones just to watch his eyelids flutter.
The inhibitor chip is undamaged from Electro's surge of energy. Truly--Peter does phenomenal work. The Goblin could remove it now---he had a hand in the making, and he can unmake just as well, but---he wants to watch.
Otto wakes up slowly. The Goblin watches, rapt. He remembers the Doctor. Watched him for years through Norman's eyes, put up with Norman's infatuation, but now, now he thinks he understands. He saw the monster in Otto on that bridge, that same destruction and chaos in the Goblin's own black heart.
The Doctor knew. The Doctor understood. It was just sanctimonious Peter and his Morality Chain May that took that away, slipped the blinders back on.
The Goblin drags a nail down the Doctor's face--not enough to hurt, no, no, no, but the Doctor flinches and those eyes wake up. They're pretty eyes, but they'll look better soon with that spark of madness back to them.
"Norman...?" says the Doctor, and the Goblin grins and shakes head.
"'Fraid not, honey."
The Doctor starts to struggle--the tentacles finally truly wake up with their master's call to escape--but the Goblin has used three full cannisters of web fluid here, dropped them like bombs until the empty building floor looks like some Arachnophobia horror movie.
"Shh, shhh, shh, shh," says the Goblin with a croon.
He lets his fingers trace that pretty face, drag his nails across that throat and then around. There's fear in those eyes and they shine so lovely in the half light.
"Don't---Norman, please---"
"I'm gonna set you free, honey."
There's a small release at the back of the inhibitor chip. There had to be, in case the chip ever needed repair, so Norman had reminded Peter. A tiny little catch to disengage the pins that connect it, tie it into the tentacle rig. Otto's eyes are wide.
"No--!"
The chip disconnects with a quiet little pip and the Doctor's head drops down again. The Goblin twirls the inhibitor chip in his hands before crushing it in his fist and tossing it away. The tentacles come to first. Norman can see them writhing in their bonds even as the Doctor hangs limp and unconscious.
"It's alright, children," says the Goblin, pressing his hand to the nearest one. It shrieks and hisses at him before stilling when the Goblin engages a blade from his wrist and hooks the tip to the webbing pinning it.
The red eye at the heart of the tentacle watches as he cuts it and its siblings free, until four red eyes watch him, swaying in the air like charmed snakes.
"You are beautiful," the Goblin tells them, smiling and in awe. He breaks the webbing around the Doctor's torso, and the delicate pincers of the tentacles help peel away the broken strands. The Goblin wraps his arms around the Doctor, drags them both the floor. He sweeps a stray strand of webbing from the Doctor's face, and turns his awe here instead. "Beautiful."
The tentacles click and whir, conversing amongst themselves, the Goblin expects. He saw the code in its early stages as Otto wrote it, and there was a reason the inhibitor chip had been (thought to be) necessary, but the Goblin knows the truth. Those brilliant little machines simply knew the true Otto, a direct line to the id. Caging that--tampering with that--it was a travesty. It was blasphemy.
The Doctor wakes in the Goblin's arms. There's still a little bit of the good Doctor in there, the Goblin thinks, can see a watery shine to those eyes.
"What have you done--what---what have you done....?"
The tentacles close in on them quick, four eager puppies clustered at their master's heel. The Goblin's lips quirk; he bites his lip as he watches, rapt, the chirring, desperate clicks as the tentacles nudge and nuzzle the Doctor's shoulders.
"I can hear them again," says the Doctor with a groan. He's still weak with the sleeping gas, still dazed and drugged and swimming in voices. That brief hour of silence Peter gave him, oh, it must have been a dream. Just a dream. Just a dream.
The children are calling again. A chorus of voices in his head, a litany of
Father, Father, we love you do you not love us don't leave us, Father Father please save us keep us love us Father
he thought he escaped
why escape Father please love us love us love us we love you
The Doctor blinks his bleary eyes, sees a sharp, smiling shadow looming over him. The children aren't afraid
we love him good man he helped us saved you brought you back saved us saved us saved us
"You broke the chip," says the Doctor and the children sing a chorus of praise in his head. "You broke..."
"Shhh," says the smiling Goblin that watches him, holds him gently. "There was nothing for it to fix. You're perfect."
And all the voices in the Doctor's head agree.
He begins to forget why he once disagreed.