Torn Asunder
Author's Note: Enjoy the story and R&R.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of Spider-Man, nor do I own "Vindicated" sung by Dashboard Confessional.
Summary:
Doc Ock survives the plunge into the river. Amnesic and confused, he searches for means of recollection, but no one comes to his aid. The only clues that connect to the past are an old newspaper and the four arms welded to his back.
…
Pain…That is all he could feel. It squeezed him in its vice-like grip, draining the energy from him. It crushed him easily in his vulnerable state. His blood boiled and his body burned with the fury of the sun.
"T-too ho-hot."
He tried to open his eyes, but to no avail. Why could he not awaken from the scorching confines of slumber?
"Re…bui…"
He heard the sound of metal hitting water. Surprisingly he was cooled by it somehow. The aching under his skin vanished instantaneously, though he still could not open his eyes.
The smell of fish passed by him, and he gagged. No sound came from his throat, only water. Though he could not see, the man's other senses were still intact. He could hear the constant gawking of gulls overhead. Where was he? Who was he?
He managed to sit up with an effort. It was incredibly difficult, as something was holding him back. Anchored to the spot by the invisible force, he coughed up more water and blood.
"Re…build…"
A voice raced through his head. It was demanding and strict. Subconsciously, he scoffed at it, pushing it from his thoughts. Then the same flaming sensation from before returned, and he regretted his decision.
"Reb…uild!"
At that, his eyes opened. It took a moment for him to adjust to the brightness of the sun. Slowly his surroundings became clear. The sandy shore, the river, the sun, the four cables sticking out of his back…
He gasped and turned his head. More blood erupted over his lips.
"No-note to self…Don't do that anymore."
"Note ta-taken."
"Ta-taken."
"Ta-taken."
"Ta-taken."
The voice from before…It was still there in his mind. He realized now that there was more than one voice. There were four. They sang harmoniously despite the occasional stumbles made. Whenever there was a pause, the cables over his shoulder would twitch as if alive.
"Wh-what's going on?!
His question was greeted by a three-fingered "hand," which jutted from the upper left cable. At its centre was a blinking red light, which the man had mistaken at first for an eye.
"Rebuild?"
The mechanism seemed as confused as he was, tilting its claw to one side. The other three cables twisted around to meet the man's gaze. He stared back into their hypnotic red spheres. One of them fled away, returning with a wet, old newspaper in between its pincers. It handed the story to him. The Daily Bugle newspaper…The headline read:
Doc Ock still at large! Police expand manhunt.
Next to the text was an artist's rendition of the so-called "Doc Ock." Funny…For a second he could have sworn the criminal on the page had tentacles. Then he looked closer and realization hit him.
"What am I?!"
The two lower limbs lifted him up, using logs to support their massive strength. The man could only look on in bewilderment as the other two arms propelled him forward. One after another, they buried their claws into the sand and lurched ahead. He kept the month-old edition of the Daily Bugle tucked under his drenched trench coat.
"Where are they taking me?"
"To discover who we are."
…
Tightening his coat around himself and putting on his fedora, the raggedy-dressed individual entered the convenience store.
"A bag of corn chips please," he requested with a strangled voice, adjusting his sunglasses.
The store clerk retrieved the snack and handed it to the man.
He paid and left the small shop hurriedly. The tentacles moved underneath the prison of cloth.
"Don't come out. Let me eat in peace."
Ock opened the package and began munching away on the chips. He was dying of hunger and thirst.
"Hey buddy, fork over your wallet." A strong hand clamped onto his shoulder.
"Who is it?"
"Thug," Ock accidentally said aloud.
"What?!" The brute pushed him into a brick wall, and it crumbled upon impact. Civilians walking the streets backed away in fear. "Fork it over now!" He reached into his jacket.
"A weapon!"
The actuators responded to Ock's instinct, tearing themselves free through the back of his coat.
"What the-?!"
The thug was throttled by one arm, impaled in its vertebrae. The appendage thrust the attacker into a taxi door.
"Take a cab!"
Onlookers screamed and ran away from the octagonal menace.
"No! I just wanted to get something to eat!"
The arms lifted him up high above the panic-stricken citizens. Each step made caused the foundations of buildings to shake.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
"Stop this!"
They did not respond, ignoring him. Continuing to dig into the concrete, they transported Ock across the street to the opposite sidewalk, flipping over a vehicle in the process.
"This is what I am…A criminal?!"
No answer came. The lowermost tentacle struck a lamppost, knocking it over and nearly killing a woman in its descent. The barb proceeded to smash straight through the stone wall of a café, retracting with a cup of coffee in its grasp.
"Drink."
Ock drank reluctantly, the actuator throwing the mug aside as he finished.
"We are remembering. This is what we used to do."
He wanted to plead to the fleeing crowds for forgiveness. He was not in control of the arms. They controlled him.
"They look down on me. I'm not human to them."
"We, Father, will take care of everything. You need not worry."
Father? Since when did they start calling him that? Did he create these monsters?
"We know now…Do you, Father? Do you remember your accomplishments? Do you remember how Spider-Man foiled your plans?"
"Spider-Man…?"
"The power of the sun in the palm of your hand! You made a vow to finish what we started! It will surely work this time! The fusion reactor…Rebuild it!"
"Re-reactor? Yes…Yes I remember!"
"Then you know what must be done Father! Guide us so that we can fulfill your dream!"
"It…It was my dream?"
"Yes! Your gift to mankind!"
"But I miscalculated!"
"No you did not Father!"
"It is Spider-Man's fault! He ruined everything! He took everything from you! If it weren't for him, you'd be accepting your Nobel prize right now! Instead, look at how they run from you!"
"No…I miscalculated. I was wrong. I was a fool, blinded by the very sun I created."
The arms cocked their pincers in astonishment. They hissed at him, their bloody gazes threatening. One of the claws snapped shut mere inches away from Ock's nose.
"This is your doing…and mine. No one is to blame but me."
"We are your children and you are the great Octavius. The dream is in your reach and you deny it, Father?!"
"I can't let you hurt anyone else."
He forced every bit of willpower into exerting control over the devices.
"Listen to me!"
"You wretch…You dare try this again, Father?! After all we've done for you? We saved you and became your dream! This is how you repay us?!"
"Listen to me!"
The tentacles hissed at him again, drawing closer to Ock's face and circling around his head.
"Listen to me! I created you! You will listen to me!"
Ock lost concentration when a claw grabbed him by the neck. Unfortunately, the actuators had not taken into account his still-healing body, and the harness that held them nearly collapsed upon itself, tearing several pins from Ock's skin.
The voices grew faint, and Ock knew that freedom would soon be his. All four arms brandished their pincers at him in rage, screeching angrily and smashing whatever they could get a hold of in the vicinity.
"You will…obey!"
"Father! What about your dream?!"
"My dream is dead…"
"NOOOO…!"
The tentacles flailed around wildly for a moment before the voices finally disappeared. It was quiet. Never in Ock's life had it been this quiet. They were gone…at last.
Clunk.
Ock panted, the mechanical arms dropping limply to the ground behind him.
Cowering citizens watched in amazement as Doc Ock made his getaway, hooking his tentacles onto a building ledge and climbing higher into the sky.
He half-smiled as the sun shone in the distance. "Back to the river."
…
Ock stared at his reflection in the murky water of the river. No longer did he see a stranger staring back at him. The guise of Doc Ock could never be lifted from his soul. Undoing his crimes was impossible. His victims and his wife could never live again…But he knew who he was and what he had to do.
"My Rosie's dead. My dream is dead. All I wanted was to make the world a better place…" He recalled his conversation with Peter Parker, or Spider-Man as he had later discovered. His wisest words.
"Intelligence is a not a privilege, it's a gift, and you must use it for the good of mankind."
"The good of mankind…I got ahead of myself. I made myself believe their lies. There was no chance of success. No calculation is worth a life, and yet I took so many. How many more miscalculations could the world have afforded?"
He mentally commanded the actuators to go about their final task. A metal spike protruded from one of the arms' claws.
Standing at the edge of the dock, he peered into the darkness. The planks almost gave away from the weight of the tentacles.
"This is my gift…" He gave his last order. "…my curse…I'm Otto Octavius."
The spike plunged into Octavius' chest. Blood flowed from the puncture wound and he descended into the depths of the river. This time, his dream would stay dead.
…
Hope dangles on a string And roped me in
Like slow spinning redemption
Winding in and winding out
The shine of it has caught my eye
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing
I am captivated, I am
Vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
So clear
Like the diamond in your ring
Cut to mirror your intention
Oversized and overwhelmed
The shine of which has caught my eye
And rendered me
So isolated, so motivated
I am certain now that I am
So turn Defense is paper thin
Up the corners of your lips
Part them and feel my finger tips
Trace the moment, fall forever
Just one touch and I'll be in
Too deep now to ever swim against the current
So let me slip away
So let me slip against the current
So let me slip away
Vindicated
I am selfish
I am wrong
I am right
I swear I'm right
I swear I knew it all along
And I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
My hope dangles on a string
Like slow spinning redemption...
…
-Fin-