JMJ
CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE BEAR BOWS
It was out of Otto's character (or at least it had been ever since the alteration of his brain at the age of thirty-two) to feel trauma about the past. He had his moody moments at times but never emotional trauma. He especially had no secret fears or haunting memories of his time as Doctor Octopus. It was not as if he could come out of the past and destroy him. He had no pride in Doctor Octopus or his activities, this is true, but he thought as much about him as a child's make believe monster or the phantoms of his dreams. Of course, it was far more serious than a childish game, as real people were hurt and affected by his actions, but they were of no consequence to his present conscience. He had made peace with himself about it long ago.
It was not like how he pretended to be cured for his scheme to control every computer on the planet. Not since the days before his alteration had ever been so jumpy and whiny as that. He had been mad. Madder than a march hare. There was nothing to feel guilt about. Regret, yes, but not guilt. He felt far more guilt about what happened before when guilt did creep up upon him …
He had kept no secret about his years as Doctor Octopus from his family. It was only a type of lesson for his children, and he told it as dryly as one may speak of long past family history. Though, what made it drier was the thought of how interesting it truly was that he was still more Doctor Octopus than what Otto Octavius had been previous to the incident, or perhaps it was that he had always been or at least been enslaved by Doctor Octopus in a sense before, and only after Doctor Octopus had been released had he truly become Otto Octavius.
Seated in his home office staring at a computer screen which he never turned on, he set his lower jaw grimly as he mulled over these things.
"You're not like other dads," he recalled Austin saying with a broad boyish grin once a long time ago when his father was a great bear and he a little cub.
Otto raised a brow, which made him look almost haughty, but Austin never fell for it. One might have said as a child Austin thought Otto could do no wrong. Sometimes Otto would say to Rosie that it bothered him just a little that his son worshiped him like a god; which in turn of course would only make Rosie laugh.
"I wouldn't think so," Otto muttered in return to Austin's comment now after a sort of careless grunt.
"You're not like other dads cuz you're better than other dads," added Austin quickly and climbed into the car eagerly as his father buckled him in. "You're serious and smart and a genius and stuff."
Although Otto tried to remain frowning about it, he smiled in spite of himself, wry though it may have appeared on the surface it was rather sheepish beneath …
It had nothing to do with love, for he loved Rosie and Ellen just as dearly, but Austin had this funny way about him that made Otto ponder over their odd relationship. Was it that Austin was in tune with him in a manner that could pull out his inner thoughts to the surface or was he the boy that Otto had never been? It seemed the older Austin grew, the more he made up for his own stupid life, for it was that he often regretted his life previous to Doctor Octopus more as it had been quite his own making. Only the matter of fatalities brought the reality of how much worse Doctor Octopus had been, but if he had not been such a nut subdued, he might not have released such bottled up rage when madness had taken hold. Well, actually he never would have worked for Oscorp, so he never would have been mad at all.
But was that a good thing or a bad thing?
Thoughts such as these had been increasing of late, ever since Austin left for New York City.
Austin was everything Otto was not in more ways than one, and if there was one thing about Austin, which he could not stand it was his "mission" in life. It was perhaps also one of the things he and Austin at one time had shared, for there had been a time in which little boyhood Otto had longed to do things for good—when he thought that it was not only his dream but his duty and God-given gift if there ever was one, to use his intelligence for the better of mankind.
As Austin worked diligently on school projects and researched cleaner technology, safer medicines, psychologically uplifting architecture, Otto easily saw himself as a little boy, glasses, shaggy dark hair, shyness with a burning drive of a spirit and all. The main difference was that Austin never lost it, and its cause proved to be more than supportive parents. Austin's naturally buoyancy was a thing that Otto never possessed. To this very day Otto had never achieved it so well as Austin had it naturally.
Having never had a relationship with his own father he did not know about some of the other habits of Austin's early investigations into the world of science. It had been strange enough to him that his original interest in science seemed to spring from a desire to be like him. He supposed it was normal for most families but he had always wanted to be the opposite of his father.
As Otto focused on the black screen for a moment he had been staring abstractedly at he faded out again as he pictured now the look of dismay on Austin's face after Otto's returning from lunch in the kitchen only to find that in his attempt to help Otto in his absence Austin had practically done all but rewrite the program. There was a similar look on Austin's face when he was caught red-handed wearing a pair of Otto's goggle as he was sitting in his room mixing sodas which he pretended were holding chemicals. Not to mention the bit of soda he had spilled on the carpet upon Otto's arrival at his door. Otto had but to hold out his hand and Austin handed the goggles back with sheepish movements. That was when the hook had been installed over the home office door or as Austin termed it "the home lab". But that did not stop Austin from coming in when Otto was in there. He came in all the time to watch and observe and ask. It seemed he enjoyed being in that little room with Otto more than playing outside with other children. He might have learned more about science and math and reading too for that matter in that little room than he had all the way through high school.
But Austin's interest soon enough became a drive. That single drive that only grew more focused the older Austin became.
Otto still recalled that day when he had come home from the university and Austin popping like a Jack-in-the-box out as he opened the front door, and he grabbed him with teeth clenched as tight as he could …
Otto raised a brow, but the concern was certainly there even on his face as he looked down with a pout upon his son. He could not help but conjecture about what bully dared sock Austin in the chest to disturb his frame of mind so badly. A part of him, as often when he pinned blamed on someone, felt the movement of those mechanical arms still lashing out like pythons as an echo of years past.
After some moments of Otto staring in front of himself and shoving such unwanted thoughts out of his head, he at last looked again down at Austin and touched his dark shaggy head.
"What happened?" he demanded. "What's wrong with you?"
He managed to pry the boy off with delicate care and then Austin, not all too responsive grabbed instead onto his arm like a static-charged sock unwilling to let go. So he managed to get in through the door with Austin on him, and he dragged him into the house without any more questions until he saw Rosie who always was home before him for her job was only part time since the arrival of the children. But Rosie was not helpful in this. As he motioned to the quite distraught little creature clinging with the ferocity of a tick, Rosie only shook her head.
"It's between you and Austin," she said; though she did warn the boy to be careful of his father's spine.
At least at this, Otto managed to get Austin onto his feet and bring him aside to his bedroom where they could talk in peace.
"Sorry," said Austin.
Otto shook his head and frowned. "What?"
"I saw you on the television," said Austin staring down at his shoes.
Otto winced.
"You know. Doctor Octopus."
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Otto grumbled under his breath, "They produced a show about it? Oh, brilliant." Then seating Austin onto the foot of his bed, he said, "Look. Austin. I'm quite sound and … socially able enough to now be functional. It's nothing to worry about. I explained it to you many times before."
Austin nodded solemnly and very quickly. Otto knew that telling Austin spooky stories was not the same as seeing it on television.
A thought crossed his mind too to ask Austin what sort of footage they actually had of him, but he thought better of it. He did not want to know. He was only glad he missed the annoyance of it. Not so much the footage per se, but what some idiot who had never experienced Spiderman's New York City in his or her life had to say about it.
"It's over."
Austin nodded again. "Okay."
Otto paused as he looked down upon the forlorn little face of the boy. "Are you going to be okay?"
Yet again Austin nodded, and this time said nothing to accompany it, but he did look a little less perturbed as Otto had broken him out of a spell.
"So I can leave and you're not going to worry about it?"
The boy nodded once more, and Otto tried to smile as he touched him affectionately on the shoulder. "Good."
Yet it was hardly a half an hour later when Otto was putting something that he brought to work in his home office when Austin appeared again with a puckered brow. It did not possess nearly the same amount of personal concern, but was still concern enough as he asked in a clear childish voice, "What about the others?"
Otto glanced at Austin rather idly, for he did not know what Austin meant, nor that he was speaking about the same topic as before. "What others?" he asked.
"The others in New York. What happened to them?"
"You mean the Sinister Six?" asked Otto unable to hide his annoyance.
"All of them," said Austin candidly.
It was a question that became Austin's entire life and it had started at age five …
Only a year or two later Austin first came up with the idea that he would go back to New York himself to help them back to normal. The first time Otto only smiled and told him it was a nice thought. The second time Austin brought it up Otto tried to explain to him as charitably as he could that most of them probably did not want to be cured.
"But what if they do?" he could still hear Austin asking.
At the third time Otto only hoped it would pass. After all, Ellen had thought for some years that she wanted to be a surgeon in South America for people that could not afford it before she decided to pursue the arts. As Rosie put it, children often had noble and lofty goals.
But in Austin's case it never passed.
And Otto had tried all he could think of to persuade him of the folly of the idea. Every angle was explored. The crazies in New York would laugh him to scorn if they did not decide to kill him. He told him that as his son someone might just kill him anyway. He had tried to explain to Austin that scientists who get involved more often than not become freaks themselves. He could wind up far worse off that Doctor Octopus if he was not careful, especially with the scientific advancements since then.
Never.
Austin was driven.
Though he thought such things beneath him normally he even tried to convey how insane he himself would become if Austin were to go to New York. Outright he finally said he would lose his mind. But even this would not convince Austin. When it truly came time for Austin to leave he had nothing more to say. All his schooling, all his studies, his whole life had been for this moment. Otto could not dissuade him of his mission. He almost hated Austin for it, but only because he loved him so dearly.
"It's a drive like Christopher Columbus," Rosie said the day after Austin had flown away. "He knew his whole life he wanted to do something important on the sea. It was a drive as deep as Austin's."
"It's a punishment for me," said Otto in return.
But Rosie would not hear such talk.
"It's true though," said Otto darkly. "I said once that the freaks of New York City belonged to me. I said it was all based on my work. And I had a right over them. Now that responsibility has been handed to my son."
"Then it's not a punishment," replied Rosie sharply. "Think of it as a fulfillment. For their sakes, not yours."
Otto nodded at the black screen in the present.
For their sakes, not mine, he thought.
He had to admit that he had never thought any better of them since he decided to leave Doctor Octopus behind him. When he was actually sobered enough to make that decision. The many months of Electro pestering him at Ravencroft about when he was going to escape only seemed to make his opinion of them lessen all the more. Until at last he had to tell Electro flat out.
"The great secret is that I'm never planning to escape," said Otto in a voice so dry that it could have crumbled into dust. "I may very well spend the rest of my wretched life here with you. A pleasant thought, isn't it?"
Electro laughed darkly. "Oh, c'mon, Doc. Who's going to fall for that a second time?"
"Exactly," retorted Otto.
He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes as a great lord in full princely apparel upon his armchair instead a psychiatric patient in nighties upon a chair just cushioned enough to be considered more than a table chair; though hardly more comfortable. Actually, it was a rather normal sight at Ravencroft for a patient to sit himself in such a way.
"No, c'mon. What's your real game?" Electro said. "C'mon. I'll keep it a secret. You can trust me." He leaned in close, confidentially, almost like a dog, eager and alert for any flicker of a sign in his master's face that the time to start the hunt was now.
Otto lowered his jaw into that very characteristic pout of his and lowered his eyelids as he glanced idly away from the freak. Even behind the mask the light coming out from Electro's eye holes were starting to hurt his eyes anyway without the protection of the eye pieces of Doctor Octopus.
"Well, aside from the fact that there are cameras in plenty in this place keeping their eyes on us as we speak," retorted Otto leisurely, "escaping would not fare me much better."
"What. Are you afraid?" asked Electro. "I'll fight them all to keep them from taking your harness."
Clearing his throat carelessly, Otto said, "You know, of course, by now, Maxwell, that such loyalty is superfluous at best. I never had any intention of aiding in your physical reclamation back into society, nor have I ever held you in anything but the greatest contempt."
He could only imagine that this would stop Electro's incessant shoe-licking once and for all after he got over the blank expression he gave as he fully registered and managed understand what Otto had just told him in such indifference.
Not that having Electro as an enemy was too much better, but at least after the initial explosion of rage that day Electro gave him a wider berth when he was finally allowed out of solitary confinement. By then they were making plans for the surgery. The surgery to remove the arms once and for all, and yes, yes, Otto feared this. If one thing caused him fear, it was the pain he knew he had in store for himself, and if there was one emotion he hated above all others it was the emotion of fear. A stupid and pointless emotion as far as he felt concerned, but one that could not be denied, and one that he knew logically was not as pointless as he wished it to be.
Either way he did not dare to hope that things would go well. They could in theory, but Otto knew the risks of his never quite being the same again. It was either that or try to escape and never get caught again. Otto had regained sanity enough by this point to know that with Spiderman still on the loose this would be unfeasible. The government had already planned his sentence with or without his consent. At least at Otto's consent they would be gentler about it.
It was only a pleasant distraction when Electro returned after being part of what had been considered the "improved" Sinister Six led by Sandman. The knowledge that it had been led by Sandman had been amusing enough for Otto, but the look on Electro's face when he returned after their failure had been a thing of beauty …
In the long run the procedure had ended up going a little better than Otto had thought, but his body had not responded all too well at first. He recalled briefly the weeks he had spent in the hospital wondering if he would ever make it out again. It was not that the procedure had been overly complicated but every surgery had its risks and the worst had been foretold him in a manner than no one else would have believed. It was a secret that Otto may well bring to the grave with him, but at least he had proved to himself that the future could indeed be changed.
He had not been satisfied completely however until at the five year mark when it was foretold that he should have died; he was at that time in a faraway country marrying Rosie with a mind in a whirl of how fast it had all been set up for him. He did not believe it until it was over. Until the next year had passed and Ellen was growing for birth he had still been getting over it. He had still been getting over the fact that the asylum had let him out two years before enough to meet and fall in love with Rosie.
On and off on a cane and being careful not to lift things that were too heavy were hardly a sacrifice when one lived in a comfortable home with a good job, good wife, and two happy healthy and surprisingly morally upright children that he felt he never deserved.
He felt he did not deserve his new life, nor did he feel that any of the other New York crazies did either. It had been a good many years as it was that he had with the help of his family been able to think charitably about other people at all. His ravaged brain found the concept quite alien and he still had trouble feeling sorry for people that he felt deserved what they got.
One thing he never overcame and had difficulty even trying, however, was his contempt for the other rogues.
"They don't deserve you," he had once told Austin over the phone in a stiff dark voice.
But that was exactly what he had once said about himself, and if one thought about it may be he truly deserved it less, for some like Electro were not even in the mess to begin with. Not like Otto Octavius who had been one of the original founders of the super villain. He had developed the method with his own hands, with his own brain. Now it was his own flesh and blood who had taken it upon himself to fix the problem because Otto would not. Really, perhaps Otto was quite incapable of doing anything by this point in his life.
But as Otto sat there staring, glaring, at the blank black computer screen before him a thought which although had occurred to him before resounded with perhaps more clarity than he had allowed before. Whether or not he or the other crazies deserved anything, did not the innocent people in the matter that had to deal with them deserve a little reprieve with so many other freaks roaming the city now besides the ones that were a direct result of Otto's doing or his vile successor Miles Warren? Sure there were tons of dishonest people in New York too, but there were some people who tried as always. What about the people who tried to cure the crazies at Ravencroft? As stupid as they were many of them honestly wanted to help and could not. What about the police who just wanted to keep their city safe for the citizens who lived in it and were dealing with enough crooks, hoods, and murders that had nothing to do with the freaks? After so many years did not they deserve a break? For that matter what about Spiderman himself and his successor? As much as he still found it hard to think benevolently about Spiderman despite the years and times that separated their enmity, which was Otto's fault anyway, he could not think of anyone who deserved a break more.
And Austin?
Why Austin?
Well logically he was someone who understood. Really understood. Not like coddling doctors. Not like angry police. Not like superheroes only around to stop the plots. But someone who understood at a healthy medium who and what he was dealing with. Babying or psychologically cataloguing would do no good. Frontal attack would serve only as a buffer to stop the disease from spreading. It had nothing to do with what Otto did or did not deserve. It was the result of Austin just simply knowing and having the power to help those who wanted it. Melancholic emotion had nothing to say in the matter. Logic had its place, after all.
It was funny really that he constantly underestimated the power of his own emotional state to get in the way when he had ever considered the influence of Doctor Octopus to have prevented him from having emotion. He was really just as uncontrollably emotionally as he was before the incident at the lab.
Well, he thought, look how long it took to think logically about the fact that Spiderman could not have purposely tried to kill me in the—
There came a knock on the door.
"Otto?"
"Hmm?" asked Otto blinking up at the door.
"Ready to go, Otto?" asked Rosie's voice.
"Yes, just a minute," Otto muttered looking around himself as though he had just woken up, and after putting a few things away he made for the door and followed Rosie out to the car.
It had been over a year since Austin left for New York City. Only now was Austin about to return, and Otto, Rosie and Ellen were all going to meet him in Minneapolis at the airport. The long drive from Duluth to the Twin Cities made it necessary to start early, but the ride did not seem so long as it might have. Waiting for Austin at the airport however proved to be a thing of anxiety, but at long last he did appear looking tried but happy as he rolled his baggage behind him.
First Rosie ran to him and hugged him tightly. She tried not to cry, but a few tears fell. Then Ellen hugged him tighter, and she did not care that the tears fell in waterfalls. Austin looked rather beside himself, but the fact that he had missed them was not hidden through the befuddlement. Besides, when he looked over to his father he seemed more surprised than anything to see Otto hand his cane to Rosie and open his arms wide for a big bear hug that was rather out of character for him, but Austin nearly jumped when instead of feeling the hug Otto's hands grabbed firmly and almost violently onto Austin's arms.
Before he said so much as the slightest greeting he squeezed Austin's arms and examined Austin's face and put a hand over Austin's chest as though testing it for firmness.
"Well," Otto muttered. "You seem like you're in one sane piece."
Austin smiled. "I'm okay, Dad."
Anger filled Otto's eyes then only to keep back a hinting feeling of tears that had decided to spring out of nowhere. Instead of succumbing to them however Otto blocked it out entirely by allowing him a hug. Brief and awkward though it was Austin's smile only grew.
"Austin," said Otto then as he pulled away and bowed his head sheepishly. "I … I just wanted to tell you …" He shook his head.
"Dad? Are you okay?" asked Ellen.
Austin smile then turned into somewhat of a grin as he glanced at his sister, but Otto ignored it.
Clearing his throat he said looking Austin straight in the eyes, "I'm proud of you, Austin. Prouder than anybody ever could be of his son."
Austin's smiled faded briefly but was renewed to beaming after a moment. "Thanks, Dad," he said.
Otto nodded.
Just as they were about to head back to the car to go out to eat in St. Paul Austin suddenly added, "Oh, by the way. I just wanted to say something too."
"What's that?" asked Rosie.
"I'm engaged."
He turned and motioned with a broad and rather goofy grin to the young red-haired woman behind him who had been standing there patiently while Austin had been greeting his family. She waved bashfully and laughed.
"Hello," she said.
THE END
NOTE: Some of the things in this chapter refer to The Anachronous my other SSM fanfic.
NOTE2: Well, this is it. I hope you liked the ending. Please tell me what you think.
