Who: Goblin!Neil → Norman What: Narrative. Where: Marvel door → Las Vegas. When: Following this. Warnings/Rating: Noone.
As soon as the doorknob turned beneath his fingers, Neil was out the door and leaping down the stairs as though the laws of gravity didn't apply to him. With the apartment, and Louis, at his back, wariness was replaced by the gleeful triumph of a beast which had narrowly managed to wiggle its way out of a trap. Already, the not-god's warnings were fading away to insignificance, though he clung to a shred as a reminder, just in case, to ensure he didn't cross the line and end up having his fun spoiled for him again.
Before Loki!Louis showed up, Goblin's plan was to hook up with Doc Ock's alter and cause a little mayhem. But now, though, he figured laying low until things cooled down might be wiser, and then he'd be back to hit 'em where it hurt when they least expected it. Blindside the little brats. In the grand scheme of things, Sam had gotten off easy, but he didn't intend to let the rest slip through his fingers the same way.
Priorities, however. Get Norman through the door, make sure he got to Harry before Gwen could, and regroup. He failed to consider the possibility that Norman would be sane, or at least saner than usual, without him, or what repercussions that might carry with it.
He made it to Oscorp in record time, and informed the man who constituted as Norman's second in command (ha, ha, what a joke) that he would be busy for the rest of the day, and that he wasn't to be disturbed unless it was the utmost urgency. After the man's stammering response (yes sir, of course sir, I won't let you down sir) Neil went to Norman's office, shut the door, and as far as anyone was concerned, remained there.
No one knew about his labs in the basement, of course. Utterly confidential.
Down there, where his key always opened to, Goblin left some scribbled notes to begin on further development of compounds that could increase the gifts Norman had already bestowed upon himself before crossing. Ta-ta for now, Marvel, but he'd be back.
When Norman emerged on the other side, in the hotel's hallway, his initial thought was how quiet it was. For the first time in months, maybe more, his mind was his own. Goblin was part of Neil now, not him, and the two were merely a presence, a visitor, neither of which dominated. And, without Goblin's madness to seep into his core and corrupt, his mind was also clearer than it had been in a while.
Sanity felt strange, now. Foreign.
Even before Goblin had manifested itself, Norman Osborn had not been a good man in any sense of the word. But, to be fair, neither had he been a monster, a murderer, the sort of man who would strangle and torture a teenage girl and enjoy it. Yes, he was selfish. He was incredibly selfish, cold and cruel, entirely willing to hurt others in order to do what was in his best interests and concerned only with his own success. But murder? Physical cruelty? No, that wasn't Norman's style. When he destroyed people who stood in his way, it was less literal and applied more in a social context. Reputations, for example. Jobs. Families. Those were things he could tear down in order to make his enemies suffer.
Torturing and killing teenagers was more Goblin than Norman Osborn, and despite the thing's threats, he had no intention of carrying out his dirty work in Las Vegas. Oh, he still wanted them to pay for poisoning Harry's mind, but not like Goblin did. No, his methods ran more along the lines of breaking down the bonds between them, turning the little group of friends against each other, perhaps even sabotaging their chances at a decent future; being Norman Osborn meant he had a significant amount of pull, and one wrong word from him could ensure that Gwen Stacy or Peter Parker or any of the pesky teenagers would be doomed to a life flipping hamburgers and living in a run-down apartment in a bad part of town.
That was revenge. After all, he could have easily murdered his former partner to become sole CEO of Oscorp, but he hadn't. Instead, the man now rotted away in a jail cell. Even someone with questionable morals had lines he didn't cross.
And yet, the longer he stood there, thinking about what had transpired in New York, the more difficulty he had caring about any of it. The consequences of it now being widely known that, yes, Norman Osborn was Goblin, simply didn't worry him. He couldn't be bothered with Louis' threats. What was the point in worrying? In the end, it would all be fine. It was calm, perhaps, more so than it was apathy.
He looked down at himself, smoothed down his shirt, and strolled out of the hotel. Neil's suite would be suitable for now, but he thought that finding himself a hotel might be wise for the foreseeable future, just in case anyone got ideas about tracking him down when he was perceived to be 'vulnerable'.
Because, in the end, even if this wasn't his world he was still Norman Osborn.