Neil Donovan is (incharge) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-10-02 00:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | norman osborn |
Who: Neil
What: Norman goes bye-bye.
Where: His suite.
When: Backdated to the hours following this.
Warnings/Rating: None?
The cops came while Sam was asleep, and for that he was grateful.
Neil was calm when he opened the door. He was calm as they asked their questions, and he was calm as he responded. The white-hot, blinding rage he'd felt in the club had frozen over to something calm, eerily so, and it was like he'd been seeing the world through blurred lenses until now. Everything was so clear, so sharp, and when the officers finally left it wasn't with him in handcuffs. No, he told them his story, cast enough doubt over what had occurred to stave off charges, and satisfaction flared in his chest as he closed the door after them. This time, he'd done something. He'd gotten to the club in time, before Sam had gotten hurt, and now Toby would think twice before going near her again.
Another quick check showed that Sam was still in a deep sleep, so he closed the door carefully and headed downstairs. The suite was quiet, too quiet, which meant his thoughts were painfully loud. Overpowering, even, and he made his way into the kitchen, crouching down to rifle through the cupboards until he retrieved his prize: a bottle of whiskey, the only one had left, a sort of back-up just in case.
He straightened, opened the bottle, and regarded it for a long, long moment. He could hear Norman, like nails on a chalkboard, and his gaze narrowed. "No," he said aloud. "Not anymore." A few quick strides brought him to the sink, where he tipped the bottle over and watched as the contents disappeared down the drain. He felt powerful for one of the first times in his life, and then, just like that, his mind was silent.
It was as swift as a candle flame being doused. Neil paused, tipped his head to the side, and prodded. Norman? The man never shut up. Even when he could tune him out he was still there, like a faded radio signal. But now, there was nothing.
He tried again, trying not to hope too much just in case. Norman? Hello?
Silence, still, as the seconds ticked by. And then, another voice. A new one. A woman.
I'm afraid not.
Neil laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, not caring to find out who the woman was, not just then. No, all that mattered was that the bastard was gone. He was free of Norman fucking Osborn, and hell, everything else aside that was the best thing that'd happened to him in a while. Maybe things would start looking up from here on out.