The Haunting Of Pier 56

Chapter 9—A Meeting Long Overdue

Author's Note: Allow me to note that this chapter has very little to do with the previous chapter…which is why I was writing it while I was writing Chapter Eight. I thought the following song lyric was appropriate… but let me know if it isn't. Oh, and one more thing; the following chapter is from Peter's point-of-view as he receives a most unexpected visitor… Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

"It may sound absurd...but don't be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed...but won't you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream
It's not easy to be me"

From "Superman (It's Not Easy)" by Five for Fighting

"Parker…?"

"Parker…"

"Wake up, Parker…"

"Mmmmphhh… MJ?" I mumbled, reaching across the bed, even though I knew MJ wasn't here. She had gone over to her parent's house for the weekend, leaving me quite alone.

"Goddammit Parker, I'm not your girlfriend. Now would you please get up?" the voice said, an edge creeping into it.

Hmmm… I knew that voice. The low, gruff voice with just a touch of a foreign accent was familiar to me. It took me a moment, however, to realize who it was.

And when I did, I was thrust into a memory, the last memory of the man who had previously been my idol…

"I'll do it," he said, grabbing my arm. Those would be the last words he would say to me. With some effort, he majestically lifted himself out of the water with his metallic arms, beginning to go over to his failed experiment.

But just before he reached the nuclear reactor, he turned and looked back, staring me in the eye. The gaze we shared for that moment was one of understanding—we both knew he wasn't coming back. And I hoped that he understood as well that in my eyes, he had redeemed himself.

Not everyone can be a hero. Some are destined to fall… but that doesn't mean they don't see the light.

As I swung away from Pier 56 with Mary Jane in my arms, the nuclear reactor was pulled underwater just as it imploded, taking everything with it. Including Doctor Octavius himself. "He did it," I said softly.

Mary Jane nodded. "Yes, he did."

"In the end, Doctor Octavius… he did what was right. He was a hero." I frowned. "But no one will ever know."

"PARKER!" I was startled out of my memory by the voice again.

I covered my head with my pillow. This is all a bad dream, I told myself. It's not real. Doctor Octavius can't be alive. It's not possible!

"Guess I'm going to have to do this the hard way," the voice muttered.

Less than half a second later, I sat up in bed bolt upright the shock. Holy shit! It felt like someone had just dumped a whole bucket of ice-water onto my chest! I was certainly awake now, and ready to believe that Doctor Octavius was alive. Because this was obviously no dream.

"Finally," the voice said, relief showing through in the tone. "Thought I was never going to get you up."

"Doc-Doctor Octavius?" I stammered. If this was real, then why was he here in my bedroom in the middle of the night? This was strange. Very strange.

But 'strange' was Spider-Man's middle name, and I hadn't fought crime for twelve years without seeing something unusual or a little out-of-the-ordinary.

Still, being a man of science myself, I had my questions. And I intended on getting answers.

The person in the dark sighed loudly. "Yes, Peter. It's me. Did you not get the letter I sent you several weeks ago?"

"Yes, but I don't get it. How did you survive that? No normal person could have—"

Doctor Octavius chuckled. "Whoever said I survived?"

Now he really had me confused. "Now wait just a minute here…" I said, baffled by this whole encounter. "If you didn't survive that, then what exactly is going on here?"

He sighed again. "May I turn the light on?" he asked. "It would be so much easier if I—"

"No! I mean, I'm not dressed!"

"You're sleeping naked? Why Peter, you should know better than to do something like that in Manhattan," he said mockingly.

"I'm not sleeping naked!" I protested. "It's just…I'm only wearing a pair of boxers."

"It won't bother me," he said, and flicked the lamp on.

There he was, standing next to my bed. He looked exactly as I had remembered him. No, wait. He looked exactly the way he had at that fateful night at Pier 56 ten years ago! I shook my head. Something wasn't quite right…

Doctor Octavius, meanwhile, took one look at the boxers I was wearing and burst into laughter. He began to laugh so hard it was a wonder he could breathe, clutching his stomach as he chortled loudly. "Oh…my…so…funny…so…ironic…" he gasped in between laughs. "Spider-Man…boxers…"

I felt my face flush red with embarrassment. "They were the only ones clean, okay?" I said loudly. "Stop laughing. It's not that funny."

Doctor Octavius's laughter slowly died down to a stop, though he was still grinning. "You have to admit it's at least a little funny," he pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess I can see the irony in it," I replied, chuckling a little myself.

We stared at each other for a minute, the situation returning once again to the dead seriousness it was as we both abruptly stopped laughing.

"You've got me confused, Doctor Octavius. What exactly is going on here? How did you survive that? I don't understand."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I guess I'll just have to show you, since you obviously have no common sense whatsoever." He sighed again impatiently, and then grinned maliciously.

Suddenly, a tentacle lashed out. I cringed, closing my eyes and expecting to get thrown to the ground, but… nothing happened. I opened my eyes. "What did you just do?"

He rolled his eyes again. "You still don't get it, do you, Parker?" He held out his hand. "Don't close your eyes this time."

And Doctor Octavius promptly plunged his hand through my chest, giving me the same icy sensation that had woke me up earlier.

"I…" I looked down at his hand. It was translucent, but the rest of him was solid…or appeared to be. I touched his shoulder, and my hand went through it. What amazed me was how cold he was. "Holy…holy shit…" I looked up at him in shock. "You're…you're… you really ARE dead, aren't you?"

Doctor Octavius smacked his forehead with a hand in mock exasperation. "And the boy finally understands what I've been trying to tell him for the past five minutes!" He shook his head. "Brilliant as you are, you should know that there are some things science has no explanation for."

"I'm not a boy," I protested. "I'm nearly thirty years old."

"Ah, sorry about that," he said, running a hand through his wet hair. "It's too easy to lose track of the time when you're dead."

I opened my mouth to ask a question, but the glare he gave me made me shut my mouth. "And before you even ask, I don't know how this happened either."

"There must be some reason you're a ghost, Doctor Octavius, You must have—"

"I'm not a ghost," he snapped angrily. "I hate being called that."

He glided over (there's really no other way to describe it) to my nightstand. "I don't know how it happened," he repeated. "I just…am still here." He picked up a framed photograph. "Still going out with your girlfriend, I see," he noted. "What a gorgeous redhead. I must admit, Parker, you choose your ladies well."

"She's not my girlfriend," I corrected.

"No?"

"Mary Jane's my wife now. We got married around five years ago."

"So she's your wife now, eh?" he said, smiling. "Lucky you," he said bitterly, his smile replaced almost immediately with a familiar scowl.

"Listen, Doctor, I'm sorry about your wife. There's nothing you could have done about it."

Doctor Octavius didn't say anything in reply, setting the picture of Mary Jane and me down on the nightstand. "Do you have any kids?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Well, Mary Jane's pregnant. She's due in about a month. We're expecting it to be a boy."

"I certainly am happy for you, Peter. You seem to have made a nice life for yourself."

I nodded. "Yeah, I have…" I frowned at him. "You know, you never told me why you were here in the first place. Why you decided to wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me you're dead… What the hell do you want?" I said angrily, my voice rising with every syllable.

He didn't seem surprised at all by my outburst, though he glowered at me a little. "Of course there's a reason I've come here," he snapped. "You don't really think I'd come wake you up in the middle of the night for just a happy little chat, now do you? I just thought I'd talk to you a little first." He stared at me pensively. "It's been ten years, after all. I'd say I'm rather behind on the times."

"Yeah. Speaking of that, what have you been doing for the past ten years?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Reflecting. Contemplating. Basically haunting Pier 56, if you want to call it that."

"So all those rumors about a ghost at Pier 56 were true," I breathed. "I really didn't believe them."

"I'm not a ghost," he snarled angrily. "Stop calling me that."

"If you're not a ghost, then what are you?"

He shook his head, staring at the floor. "I really don't know."

The room was quiet for a moment, and then Doctor Octavius asked, "So, how's Harry been doing?"

"Harry who?" I asked, confused as to who the ghost was talking about.

"Harry Osborn, numbskull," he said edgily.

"Oh. Harry…" I replied sadly. "Um, he's dead, actually."

Doctor Octavius smirked. "Well, isn't that the best news I've heard in…" He trailed off as he saw the expression on my face. "What?"

I gave the scientist a look of disgust. "Didn't you work with Harry Osborn? That's just a little hypocritical, isn't it?"

He laughed at my statement. "I never worked with Harry Osborn. I threatened to kill him if he didn't give me the tritium. The little slimeball made me work for it."

I scowled. "Yeah, well, can we not dredge up the past? I was recovering for a month over that whole ordeal."

"Big deal. I died over it. I'd say that's just a tad worse than all of the trauma you endured," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I crossed my arms. "What did you come here for, anyways? If it was just to argue with me, please go away. I work too much to lose sleep over someone who is just going to harass me."

"So I'm harassing you now?" the ghost said angrily. "Well, that's too bad, isn't it? IF you must know, I've come here… for your help."

"What could I possibly help you with?" I asked skeptically. "I may be Spider-Man, but I don't create miracles."

"No, but you mete out punishment under your own laws. And that's what I want you to do."

I smacked my forehead in exasperation. "If you're asking me to kill someone, Doctor, I can't do it. I don't kill people. And who the hell would you want me to kill for you anyway?"

Doctor Octavius scowled. "Do you really think I would want you to kill someone for me? Parker, you disappoint me. I thought you knew me better than that."

"So did I."

He narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? If you're implying that…" he said, that cruel, determined look I had often seen ten years ago starting to appear on his face.

I held up my hands in protest. "I'm not implying anything! Really!"

"I was hoping that we could put everything that happened ten years ago behind us," he said bitterly. "The past is the past, Parker, and I regret every minute of it."

"If that's the case, let's just pretend that didn't happen, okay?"

"I'm happy with that."

We stared at each other again for a minute, again momentarily forgetting what we each wanted to say.

"So, what was it that you wanted me to do for you, Doctor Octavius?"

"Well…You know Mark Rhodes, don't you?"

"Of course I do. He was the kid that gave me that letter of yours." I stared at me curiously. "How do you know him?"

"We met several months ago at the docks. Apparently now it's some kind of ritual among teenagers to check out Pier 56 and see if it's haunted." He shook his head in mild disgust. "Absolutely ridiculous. Anyhow, it turns out that his father was a close friend of mine."

"Did you meet with the father?"

"No. He died a couple of years ago."

I frowned. "That's too bad," I said.

He gave me a slight glare. "You're getting me off the subject, Parker. Now, if you don't mind…?"

"No, go ahead. But can I ask you something first?"

He rolled his eyes. "Knock yourself out."

I pointed to his ghostly actuators. "If you're dead, why are the… arms still with you?"

"God, Parker. You have a horrible memory. If you would remember, they were fused to my spine. They were as part of me as are one of your regular limbs." He stared out into space, his eyes glazing over a bit as he obviously lost himself into his thoughts. "Although…"

"Although what?"

Doctor Octavius snapped out of his apparent reverie. "Never mind," he said. "I'll tell you another time. I'm not here to talk about my actuators."

He cleared his throat before continuing.. "Now, I'm sure you know what happened to Mark, don't you?"

I frowned. "Yeah. Apparently some idiot ran him over with a truck the other night. Now he's in the ICU. I hope he pulls through—he's hurt really bad."

"He's dying, Peter." His look of regretful sadness immediately changed to a look of rigid, angry determination. "I want to find the sick, uncaring bastard who did this."

"That's not going to be easy…" I warned. "Even with the police description, that person—and that truck—could be anywhere."

"There's a police description? Good. That increases our chances. If we work together, we have an excellent chance of finding this… person."

"Now wait just a minute," I objected. "It's not that I don't want to help you, but…" I didn't really want to get into something that was over my head.

"You're not going to help me," he said dejectedly. "I really expected better from you, Parker…" To my utter surprise, he just… disappeared, winking out like a light bulb that has been turned off.

"No, wait!" I shouted. "Don't leave!"

The ghost popped back into my vision once more. "Why shouldn't I?" he said bitterly. "Obviously you don't want to help me, so there really is no reason for me to be here."

"Listen," I told him. "I'm sorry I acted like I don't want to help you. I do. I just don't want to get in over my head. Besides, detective work isn't my specialty."

"I figured I would perform most of the 'detective work,'" he replied. "You just have to help me with it because, well…" He looked down at himself sheepishly. "Being alive has its advantages."

I smiled a little. "Alright. The least I can do is respect a dead man's wishes. I'll help you."

He returned the smile, albeit it was a weak one. "Thank you, Peter. I knew you'd come through."

"Now, would you like me to get the police description for you?"

"That would help," he replied. "I'll see what information I can obtain, and then I'll get back to you in a few days."

"Sounds good, Doctor Octavius."

He frowned. "Please, call me Otto. Formalities are not necessary any longer."

"Sure, as long as you stop calling me Parker all of the time. It's annoying."

Otto smiled. "Alright, Peter. We've got a deal."

I shook his hand, which was quite a bizarre experience. It symbolized our agreement, our pact to find the person who had nearly killed Mark. I supposed it was also an agreement to put the past behind us, to work together as friends once more.

Obviously, Otto cared about Mark very much. I had never seen him be so devoted to protecting a person; well, except for Rosie, of course. And I know that when she died, he lost a lot more than just his wife. Perhaps he didn't want to lose what was meaningful to him again; this time a young man who wasn't even out of high school.

The way the world works never cease to amaze me. And when you've been fighting crime outside of the law for twelve years, trust me; there isn't a lot that surprises you.

"I'll be watching you, Peter," he said, half-joking, half-serious. With a little smile and a wave of his hand, he was gone.

I laid back on my bed, but try as I may, I couldn't go back to sleep.

I had a lot to do tomorrow.

Author's Note: Hmmm… well, that was interesting to write. I'm telling you, these characters have come alive all on their own. It's like they're telling me what to write. I suppose you could call Otto, Mark and Peter my muses. :) Especially Otto. He needs his story told. I'm more than happy to spin their story; for myself, the characters, and for you, the reader. I hope you like it so far…! Stay tuned for more—it's hardly over yet!