(Untitled)

[osborn_journals]

It hadn't been real. That much, Norman knows about the island deathmatch. He might remember it, from the pain of the nanites to the cold press of the gun barrel against the back of his neck, but he remembers so many other things that haven't really happened... If it had been real he'd be dead, and Peter would have been the one to kill him. A bad

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[spinsaweb]

Peter, meanwhile, has been wandering somewhat aimlessly, staring at the ground and thinking. But when he catches sight of Norman, he picks up the pace - moves directly to him, heart pounding, gathering his words. He comes to a stop in front of him, wondering if he's going to be able to make him understand, this time.

"Hello, Norman."

[osborn_journals]

It's a long moment before Norman looks up at him, looks up from his blood-smeared hands and blinks at Parker, lizard-slow. "Peter." Too calm, everything about him unnervingly detached from his surroundings. And himself. "Hello."

[spinsaweb]

"Are - are you hurt?" Peter asks him, somewhere between shy and nervous. "You're ... not looking so good." It's like their situations are reversed from last time, actually - but nevermind that for now.

[osborn_journals]

"No?" He looks down at his hands again and frowns as he coaxes a considerably-sized chunk of skin out from under his thumbnail, before looking back up at Peter. "...no. I'm -- hello."