Chapter 2

It seems some of you were confused with the first chapter. This was, in fact, my intention. But hopefully this chapter clears a few things up. Let me know any questions you have. The next chapter is made to answer them, and I want to make sure I cover everything necessary.

A true scientific fact is used in this chapter but Octavius (being Octavius) interprets it in a slightly twisted and exaggerated way. I included a short summary of its true meaning at the end if anyone is interested.

Peter sat on the floor, suit on, mask off, holding his communicator in his hands. He had pressed the emergency help button ages ago, but he still slightly regretted it. He wasn't ready. He just wasn't ready. But he would never be ready. He might as well make sure his friends and family didn't worry about him missing anymore.

It wasn't too difficult to stop himself from thinking about how his only family left wasn't really family anymore. His brain kind of hiccuped and short-circuited whenever his thoughts strayed too close to that line of questioning.

He heard the stomping of feet above and hugged his knees closer, hiding his face. Great, he was downright sobbing now that his team was here. Why couldn't it have all come out already? He felt like he had been here for ages. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn't. He couldn't see the time on the watch-shaped device through his tears anyway.

"All arms in the air, Doc Ock!" Luke demanded as he burst through the door. Other quips and battle yells were uttered by the rest of the team as they poured in after him. It all dwindled to a stop when they got a proper look around.

"Spider-Man? . . . Pete?" There was a collective gasp as Peter was sure they finally realized that his head was bare.

Ava growled. "He knows your identity?! Sam, call Fury. Danny, call in with May, make sure she's all right." There was a pause. "Wha—What are you waiting for Pete?" she stopped abruptly. ". . . Peter?" Her voice ended in a soft whisper.

Peter knew he had to say it, had to stop them from worrying about May's safety, about their safety.

It was some irony that the one time his great fear of being unmasked came true, it caused him trouble in entirely different ways than he had expected.

"Doctor Octopus isn't here. And he—he doesn't know my name," he said as loudly as he could. His tears were slowing now. That was good.

"He doesn't?" Sam asked dubiously, looking up from his communicator and ignoring the furious yells coming from it.

"Pete," Luke said reasonably. "Did he see your face? You've said it yourself. Doc Ock may be crazy, but he's kind of right when he says he's crazy smart. I think he can figure out who you are from your face pretty quickly to be honest." Quieter, to the rest of the team, "Do you think he's in shock or something?"

"Mrs. Parker says she is safe and nothing out of the ordinary has happened," Danny reported.

"Of course she's safe," Peter said a bit louder, a bit calmer. "I told you, he doesn't know my—my—He doesn't know me as Peter Parker. He doesn't know me as Peter Parker because Peter Parker doesn't exist! I'm NOT Peter Parker!"

And now he was crying again. Just great.

"What? Of course you exist. Why would you . . ." Ava's voice trailed off thoughtfully as she turned to look at everything else in the room.

The others remained speechless. Peter took a shuddering breath, lifting his head enough to scan the mess of papers around him. He picked the old, crumpled page he had come very close to ripping to shreds. He tossed it to Luke's feet. "He doesn't know me as Peter Parker," he repeated. He desperately wanted to call it his identity, but that's not what it was, was it?

It didn't take any sort of special senses to know that his friends were exchanging raised-eyebrow glances.

The soft rustling sound of a decades old picture being unfolded was just audible above the low hum of the machines and generators. Then curious whispering overpowered everything.

"Is that a picture of Pete?"

"Doc Ock's been stalking him?!"

"Of course not, look at how old the picture is."

"Look at the back. People often add context to images by adding commentary."

The whispering became more rushed, overlapping too much for Peter to understand. Then, at last, Ava took a guess.

"Peter . . . this is Doc—Doctor Octavius. Did he—Are you sure this isn't an elaborate prank? Some sort of mind game?"

Peter shook his head. "You didn't see his face. We never saw his face, or we would have suspected earlier."

Ava approached slowly before kneeling down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Pete . . . I'm so sorry."

"Sorry about what?" Sam complained. "What's going on? You're leaving us out of the loop!"

Peter took one more gulp of air.

"I'm a clone of Otto Octavius."

. . .

. . .

. . .

"Wow, well you need to explain that one to me," Sam said loudly. "I mean, how did a mad scientist's clone become, like, the total opposite of him? You're so good while he's so . . . you know. You also appreciate humor way more than he ever could. And the irony! This is just like some sort of prime time soap opera-Uh—Not that I would know what those are like."

Peter looked up at him with a frown. "So you were watching Spanish soap operas that day you thought you had the TV to yourself?"

"No comment."

"Own up to it! Which one was it?"

Ava rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I will never understand you two."

Dr. Otto Octavius was torn. He felt proud and exceedingly dim-witted and jaded by his own pride.

It felt so obvious in retrospect. He had never actually seen the clone dead. He had only been told by his two less than stellar lab assistants. What were their names? He was pretty sure they had been married. Ah, yes, the Parkers. The same Parkers who were always discussing their woes of the wife's infertility. Yes, it was very obvious now. They had been in charge of the clone's stabilizing machines. All they needed to do was produce a fake report of faulty machinery. They had likely taken the clone as their own child. The clone that was supposed to be Otto's path to immortality!

The clone that was the best of all he was capable of.

Time and again Spider-Man had proven himself capable of finding the smallest flaw in Otto's plans and exploiting it. His clone had proven himself capable of finding flaws in his plans. His clone was even better than Otto had hoped. His intelligence combined with whatever upbringing the Parkers had given him had led to the rise of Otto 2.0!

Now, what was Otto going to do with his clone?

The original plan had been to switch his brain into a younger version of his body. If he did that every few decades, he would be able to live forever! He would usher mankind into the age of true space exploration! They'd travel to the stars, leaving this choked up earth behind them! He'd be a hero!

But soon after he had begun his work, a study had come out showing that intelligence was between 50% to 80% inherited*. Otto changed his mind instantly. If intelligence was that inheritable in children, he could only imagine how that number grew in clones. He realized that the world would reap more benefits if there was more than one great mind around to work on all of its problems. However, he had only just started looking into the science behind raising a proper scientist when the Parkers had told him the 'bad news'.

Now, to his great surprise, his clone was alive and well, and had been raised well enough that he was already at Otto's level at the age of . . . what had he looked like? Otto hadn't looked like that since high school. Was Spider-Man really that young? Why on earth would Shield allow a teenager to lead a team of superheroes? Otto huffed irritably. He'd still have to give his clone a few lessons in rationality before he was really ready to do proper scientific research.

Before he helped his clone, however, Otto had to do a bit of research of his own. He knew the Parkers' names. That was all he needed to figure out if they were really raising his clone properly or if his younger self was just this capable because of his genes. He'd have to have a chat with them. A quick Google search would tell him everything he needed to know to find them. He typed furiously at his laptop.

Oh, well that was unexpected.

*While this "intelligence" fact is true (as far as I know), it is not true the way Otto sees it. He's a scientist, but a crazy one, after all. As I understand it, the "intelligence" it refers to is more of an aptitude for learning, a knack, if you will. It doesn't mean you're born with the knowledge or even that you instantly understand things in class, but it can mean that you can learn certain things quicker. If you are born with such a "knack", you still have to put effort into that subject and all other subjects, just maybe a little bit less for some. Such a "knack" doesn't necessarily mean you're going to get a PhD or go on to be superb at whatever you choose. Your parents don't even have to have done such things for you to inherit it. A "knack" can be non-academic too.

If any geneticist read this and has a better understanding, I'd be happy to hear it.