Chapter 5

This Chapter is a little bit shorter than the usual ones. It's just something from the villain's perspective and as much as I love Peter, I find generally most of my favourite fanfics have a lot of Villain perspective.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Marvel, Spider-Man or Disney. Please support official releases.

Norman sat before one of the cages in his underground lab sitting before Mark Brown. AKA his most recent experiment. The once average man was different than the last time Norman had observed him, to be fair the last time he was strapped to a table and crying. Mark didn't cry anymore or rather; Norman didn't think he could. After being injected with his new super soldier serum Mark had been almost exactly what he was looking for, no green skin, no insanity but with enhanced strength.

But like most stuff in Norman's life, he was met with a difficult issue with his newest serum. While Mark had shown the initial stages of success his body couldn't compensate. The energy that fuelled the superhuman had to come from somewhere and unfortunately, that somewhere was the body. What was once Norman's grand success had turned into a massive failure. Mark's body was now a sunken husk.

To have the energy to support a superhuman the fat gave way first. After the first couple hours of superhuman strength, Mark had two per cent body fat. It might seem that having such a low body fat would be good that was wrong. Body fat is important to the body and having only two per cent was extremely unhealthy. After his fat was used up for energy then came the muscles. Mark had lost all his muscles becoming a stick figure. The serum then must have used any water storage after all the muscles were used as fuel. Mark had looked like a living mummy struggling to breathe letting out horsed breathes. Norman looked away at the sight, generally, he would try to keep the experiments that survived alive to be watched longer to see if any more effects of the serum would show themselves. But this. This was even too immoral for Norman.

Norman had pulled out a small pistol and typed his password into the keypad next to the cell. One, two, three, four. Admittedly it wasn't the best password, but password strength wasn't really an issue when you are already inside the secret lab you build under your own building. He looked at the shrivelled husk of the man barely breathing.

"Shame, you were so promising." He put the gun against the mummy's head, the barrel of the gun sunk too easily into his pruned skin. Uncomfortably so. Turning his head away from the suffering man Norman pulled the trigger. It shouldn't have been so easy to end a life. It was, too easy for regular men like them to die. It didn't even take a bullet; it could be a mild cold or a slightly bad fall. Project Rogers would fix that, no longer would man be as frail as it was, Norman also didn't mind the fame and wealth that came with it.

Great, now instead of just balancing insanity and enhanced powers he also had to find a solution to this whole… mummifying issue. He would need to contact Fisk for a new person to test his next serum on. That bastard was already jacking up the prices to an absurd amount. Project Rogers was already going to cost a fortune without the additional criminal fees. Norman walked towards the whiteboard; it was filled to the corner to corner yet only contained a small part of his calculations.

Maybe project Rogers would have to be put on the back burner for now. Norman did have multiple other projects, and a company to run. He couldn't spend all day locked deep underground with his only company being insane super-strong freaks. As much as he would have liked to spend all night thinking about his failures and loss of wealth Norman's thoughts were quickly cut off by the sounds of his ringtone. The default ringtone. As it should be, anything else was just childish and unnecessary.

"Hello?"

"Osborn!" A voice screeched happily. Norman moved the phone away from his ear before he could go to death.

"Hello Dr Connors, you seem to be in a pleasant mood."

"Oh, but I am. I have recently been able to complete the animal projects of the regenerative serum."

"It works?" That was phenomenal, a regenerative medicine that can grow back body parts of animals would make Oscorp famous. Norman couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy at Connors success at serum making. Of course, it was someone that worked for him rather than himself.

"Well, it works on bunnies. The serum is proven to regenerate limbs without negative side effects, the worst outcome that was observed was fatigue for a week but nothing major. Completely safe. Which is actually want I want to talk about." Norman sat against his desk quietly. Connors took this silence to keep going. "I was hoping for the green light to start human testing. I assure you it's safe. I mean, human and bunny DNA is different so, of course, lot's a few issues that will be ha-"

"I understand Dr Connors what is required," Norman cut him off. "You have my complete support to start human trials."

"Thank you, Norman." It's Dr Osborn. "You won't regret this."

"Goodbye Connors."

"Goo-" Norman hung up the phone. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, the irony of the situation hurt. Being able to grant human trials on Connors projects but not his own. He couldn't afford to keep buying from Kingpin. It was bad enough with all the drugs and weaponry on top of getting people to just 'disappear'.

Norman glanced over to a USB over on his desk sitting on a stack of research papers. Norman had skimmed over its contents the day Peter had delivered it. It was brilliant, it was interesting and most of all it was irritating. Norman was surrounded by success except his own. Well, he guessed Otto wouldn't be having too much success recently.

Perhaps it was time to change from super serums to super suits. The mechanical arms that could be controlled by brain functions alone would give Norman the awards he deserved. No, he wouldn't use someone else's designs to further his own achievements. To do that would be to betray own standards he sets for himself. No all he needed was a bit more time. More tests. More, human trails.

Human trials. Norman looked towards the mummified corpse. A corpse that had its muscles stripped away. Maybe preservation was the wrong way of solving this issue. This was the first subject to demonstrate some sort of sanity and superpowers, the only issue being becoming a lifeless husk. Which probably was a bit of a brick wall but nothing that couldn't be solved with time. In fact, the loss of tissue and lack of human trials were an issue that seemed to have solved themselves thanks to a one-armed scientist.

Norman grabbed his phone from beside him dialling the number of his secretary. "Dr Osborn?"

"Yes, could you get serums from Dr Connors? I said I'd greenlight his human trials, but I require to examine his works first."

"Yes sir." The call was ended. If Norman needed human trails, he would get them. He needed a solution to the tissue loss then he would develop a solution. If he could incorporate the regenerative factors of Connor's serum into his own, then perhaps he could put the regeneration and deterioration of tissues into equilibrium. Regardless his issues were solved.

Otto's issues were not solved. He sat alone in his lab, the only thing he had left. He lost his funding for research; without the money, he had no source of income to pay for his electricity and water bills or even pay his rent. It was only a matter of time before he lost his home. So, with money about to become an issue, Otto stayed at the lab which wasn't actually his. The lab was given to him so long as he made significant progress. Without the research, they would take back the lab much like his funding. But for now, the lab was still legally in his for now so he could still use this as a temporary home while he tried to find a way of gaining money.

Otto's life was a mess, not because of his own failures but because of the jealously of lesser men. He didn't blame Spiderman, or Spider-Man as he preferred. Only a moron would blame the symptoms not the disease. Spider-Man was an immature child but if he wanted revenge then taking his anger out on a petty criminal would be a waste of his already limited time.

No, he needed to find who was responsible. He already had a pretty good idea who though. Otto had made a few enemies in his life, it was unavoidable. Admittedly most of his enemies were made during high school and by now were living happy lives and getting married, those foolish fools. Wasting their lives with loved ones, there was only one true love that was worth anyone's time. That love was science.

But who would be jealous enough to ruin his greatest accomplishment? Well, everyone is jealous of him, he's basically the next Tony Stark. No, the question isn't who is jealous of him more so who is capable of stealing his brilliance. Admittedly Otto wasn't the most knowledgeable on the subject of New York's underworld, all he really knew was Spider-Man was some random gangster belonging to who knows what gang. It didn't really matter though; he had no vendetta against New York's underworld.

No, clearly the person who did this must-have wealth, enough to pay off a criminal with superpowers. Not only super-wealthy but also with knowledge about his production. Otto was a smart man but after leaving Oscorp he will admit he may have fallen out of the spotlight a little. Well more than a little, everyone thought he was washed up obnoxious loser. This was going to be his comeback his return to the spotlight.

Speaking of Oscorp, Norman was his main suspect. Otto and Norman had been co-founders of Oscorp, that is until that coward Norman had sneaked behind his back and got his funding lowered in his mechanical projects in favour of genetic research. Norman was a fool who gave up the minute a second-rate scientist like Reed Richards and Tony Starks made a few note-worthy breakthroughs. Typical of Norman to give up the moment he wasn't the best. It was the reason that Otto left, that and the minimal funding for his own research.

Norman. Otto scowled at the thought of his name. Norman always got off on ruining Otto's life, he was as bad as those bullies in school. Expect his bullies didn't have insane amounts of disposable wealth, something Otto didn't have right now. Norman had the wealth; he was insanely jealous of Otto and would be the only one who would bother to keep tabs on his work. Even if it wasn't Norman that man was the one who backstabbed him when he still worked for Oscorp. Norman deserved to pay.

Alas, all Otto had was an exoskeleton of a flimsy design. He also lacked an AI to run the arms, the AI alone would take months to develop, months that he just didn't have. Months were stolen by a rich man running a successful company with a family. Everything he should, everything that he will get.

Otto walked over to his computer. He was running on so very little time, he could get the metal he required at a junk pile, then he could steal better materials once the arms worked. The AI was the issue, he could rush it though. Of course, there was a risk of putting a rushed AI into the brain, but he could handle it. He was Otto Octavius after all. However, when comparing living on the streets as a penniless failure to some annoying voices in his brain the AI option seemed better. Anything to make Norman pay.

Meanwhile, MJ sat quietly in the backseat of a black Mercedes. MJ swore everything Peter owned cost more than her house and was a million times better than it, none of her friends had a car this nice. Most of her friends didn't even have cars. Despite having such an amazing car and house Peter still wore his old baggy ruined clothes much to her displeasure. When they went shopping on the weekend, he completely refused to buy any clothes, all he bought was tons of candy. How was he so fit with a diet like that? MJ looked at herself in the rear-view mirror, thankfully her black eye wasn't so bad, it had healed somewhat over the weekend and with a bit of the magic, only make-up can provide she had made it by some miracles look manageable.

Peter was currently driving the Mercedes while a man named Aaron Davis supervised his diving as Peter was only sixteen. Although currently, Aaron had his feet kicked up on the dashboard drinking canned beer so saying he was supervising Peter's driving was a bit questionable. The man looked like an Olympic gymnast. Lean muscles pushed against his clothes, was he possibly Peter's personal trainer?

Peter pulled up the car on the side of the road getting out of the car. "Are you sure you're okay with driving the car back home?" He had asked. Aaron gave a little so-so gesture.

"I'm good trust me, it's worse if I drive sober. Boredom while driving is just as unsafe as intoxication." Well MJ wasn't completely sure if that was true, and Peter seemed even more doubtful.

"Look just don't crash, I guess, and say hi to Miles for me."

"I never crash, I'm an amazing driver." Peter looked like he wanted to argue but the car took off before he could get a word out leaving an annoyed Peter.

"Shit, I forgot to log my time driving." Peter shrugged as he proceeded to walk to school leaving MJ to only follow. Maybe, she should just walk a bit slower, let him get ahead. No. MJ tried shaking the thoughts out of her head. Peter had been nothing but kind, at worst a bit begrudgingly but still went out of his way for her. The least she could do is walk to school with him. She supposed it wouldn't look so bad Peter the class weirdo walked into school with her. Hell, maybe people just think they met at the front of the school. MJ bit her lip. Why did she think everything was some sort of popularity thing?

MJ walked beside Peter as they approached school shutting down those voices that told her to leave Peter and worry about what other's thought of her. "Peter!" A boy called out to the two of them before they could cross the threshold to school. MJ and Peter turned towards the origin of the sound.

"There you are Peter…and Mary?" Harry walked up to the two of them with a confused face. Peter was as bad as him socially, why the hell was he breathing the same air as someone like MJ, the whole thing reeked of some sort of corruption. "Peter, could I speak to you for a moment, in private please."

"It's okay I'll go," MJ said walking away as Harry glared at her suspiciously.

"Yes?" Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

"What did you do?"

"What did I do?"

"Why are you with MJ."

"Oh, that?" Peter rubbed his imaginary beard as if in thought. "She was the girl of the evening who warmed my bed for the weekend." Truthfully Peter was a virgin but MJ did warm his bed so he was being truthful.

"Bullshit she did, you're a virgin."

"How could you possibly know that!"

"Your phone wallpaper is Darth Vader."

"How dare you, name one Sith sexier than Darth Vader."

"Ventress?"

"She wasn't even a Sith!" Peter argued, but Harry did make his point. Peter would be damned if he was getting rid of his Darth Vader wallpaper. No amount of sex would change that.

"Seriously, why are you hanging out with MJ. No way… did you… did you use the mind control serum? I knew it existed. You did well to hide it from me I'll give you that, but when you've spent your childhood being raised by the TV while your dad spent all his time looking through notes and rereading his own books, you pick up on a few things my dear Watson."

"I didn't use mind control serum. She needed a place to crash, and she ran into me."

"You still didn't deny mind-control serum. But seriously can you get luckier! Where are all these hot homeless girls when I wander the streets alone." Harry complained.

"I think they prefer the streets then whatever Leatherface nonsense you have prepared." Harry ignored his best friend's criticism and walked into school. Today was going to be a good day for him. New week new Harry. Usually, he hated school, but he had a good feeling about today. He did have PE today but that wouldn't get him down. I mean really the worst they did in PE was the rare fitness test, besides that, all he had to do was get hit sometimes by a dodge ball.

"This sucks, so much," Harry said tapping his cheap boxing gloves together. "Who in their right mind put self-defence into the school curriculum. Does the education system just want kids to hate school? Cause that's what it feels like." Harry punched Peter's left padded glove with his right going through the motions of a punch that they were only taught moments ago.

"Probably cause with all the heroes, villains and aliens running around there has been a significant increase in accidental deaths," Peter explained as Harry threw another inexperienced and weak punch at his glove. Currently, the two like every other kid in the class was paired up. One person would try a jab while the other just held up their gloves to be hit.

"Or maybe the increase in crime?" Harry said smirking at Peter, who tried sticking the finger up at him. Unfortunately, the gloves made it impossible as they were the largely padded boxing gloves without individual fingers.

"Please, heroes cause more damages now than crime at this point," Peter argued as Harry hit his other hand. "If anything, we're being taught self-defence because of the recent appearances of mad scientists, Gods and even mutants which is just an entire race of people who can either turn into bubble gum or disintegrate buildings."

Harry and Peter's punching exercise was cut off by the teacher, the class was called over to the coach. "Okay everyone, class is about to finish up. Let's just do some light sparring," Peter ignored some of the less intelligent girls in the back asking where the spa was. "So just pair up again, keep it slow this isn't boxing. Nice light taps."

"Oh, thank God," Harry muttered himself and looked towards Peter. Ironic cause Peter was probably the person who could hurt him the most. Harry was about to join Peter to probably argue Star Wars while very so often tapping each other's gloves.

"Osborn get your ass over here." A voice called out to Peter and Harry. A boy approached them, a boy who towered over the two nerds.

"Hi, Flash. Can we help you?" Harry asked. Peter and Harry already knew what Flash wanted but didn't hurt to play dumb. Well, it was going to hurt. Harry was just hoping he mistook Peter for him.

"You're with me." Flash smiled at Harry's misfortune. Grabbing him by the wrist he dragged Peter's best friend away closer to the centre of the gym. Peter felt sorry for Harry but, hey, wasn't him so that was a positive. The gloves were padded enough so it wouldn't hurt so Harry's game plan was to just lay down and let Flash get bored. Harry let himself be dragged along by Flash letting his feet dangle and scrap along the gymnasium floor. Flash was strong but it was impressive for him to casually pull Harry along the floor as he did.

Peter tried to hide his smile but failed miserably, although, he got what was coming to him though. Harry was basically his only friend that could walk into a police station without handcuffs on, so when Flash stole his best friend from him, he realised that he was stuck in gym class with no one to pair up with. Damnit! Curse you social skills.

Thankfully, Peter wasn't the only one who was incapable of talking. To the side awkwardly standing by herself was a blonde nerdy girl who was too nervous to approach anyone. Gwen wasn't someone Peter talked to regularly not because he didn't find her unpleasant. The two of them had a lot in common. They both were some of the more academically gifted in their class, both religiously quoted Lord of The Rings and had no friends.

Peter took a deep breath in; he didn't want to do this. He put on a fake smile, the kind that he wore when he had to meet his Father's business associates and walked over to Gwen. "Need a sparring partner?"

"I- I- Ye-. Yes please." Peter surprised her despite her heightened senses, she just wasn't very used to people approaching her. She hung her head in embarrassment from not being able to get a sentence out. Peter ignored it, he and Harry weren't much better. Peter still remembered that time when Harry tried ordering at the subway, but the worker was a cute female. It took like five minutes just for Harry just to say what kind of bread he wanted.

"Sounds good. Are you okay with just standing still and throwing a weak punch whenever the teacher looks?"

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that." Gwen let a light chuckle. Gwen seemed different to when he last met her, something about the way she walked, the glow of her skin. Peter couldn't place a finger on it, but Gwen was just different to how she normally was. Then again Peter didn't really know her, maybe this is just the first time he actually noticed her.

"Are you going to be okay without your glasses?"

"Oh, I, um-. I uh wear contacts now." Wow, that girl struggled with sentences.

"Well, that's good at least I don't have to worry about punching a blind girl. Plus, it's less embarrassing to lose to a girl than a blind one, Flash would never let me forget that."

"But losing to a girl is okay with you?" Gwen saying that gave Peter flashing to Black Cat. Peter scowled at the thought of that white-haired belt stealing pain in his ass.

"Trust me, I've got my butt beaten by enough girls to learn that lesson. Give me your best shot." Gwen looked a bit uncomfortable with punching Peter despite wearing lots of padding. Not to mention Peter doubted what this frail nerd could do to his superhuman body.

"Prepare yourself." She said reading a nervous punch. She had no form, no experience. Peter almost scoffed out loud at her sad attempt. Peter was already preparing a line like 'is that all you got?' In his head. What Peter wasn't expecting was for her arm to shoot out like a bullet, was she trying to break his ribs. Peter quickly brought up his arms to block her gloved fist. She hit with a surprising amount of force, had he been a regular person it would have felt like a regular hit which was impressive due to the amount of padding on the cheap boxing gloves.

Peter had let out an audible escape of air from his lips as she connected with his forearms. Gwen pulled back her arm, eyes were widened with fear, she looked like she was almost ready to call the ambulance. "Peter I'm so sorry! I'm still trying to control my own strength." Peter wanted to laugh. Actually, why didn't he?

Peter laughed at the nervous girl. "Relax, I just wasn't prepared for you to hit like that. Have you been hitting the gym? These baggy gym clothes don't do you justice." Peter smiled. The gym clothes were a blessing to Peter, they worked well to hide his muscular body. Much like Peter, Gwen's athlete body was also hidden by the gym clothes.

Gwen let out a weak laugh not looking Peter in the eye. "Y-yeah the gym. You know, gotta get those strength points up." Gwen wanted to slap herself with her super strength for that. Why was she such a loser? Thankfully Peter didn't mind her antics. "Please just punch me so we can pretend I never said that."

"Awww, but it's funny when you can't talk to people."

"Is that the best you've got? I've played League of Legends before; I've heard every offensive insult and slur under the sun. Sorry, but that isn't going to cut it." Peter rolled his eyes, as much as he wanted to argue he had also played League of Legends, it was a fun game but the amount of colourful language by eight-year-olds was astounding. Nothing would get to her.

"You ready?" Peter asked.

"Any day." With that, Peter threw a weak punch. Really weak. But it was enough for a girl who had never been in a fight before that wasn't in a Call of Duty chat lobby. Gwen dodged it. Not skillfully might he add. It was a very ugly way to dodge, she threw her entire body out of the way with no sense of footwork. The only thing she had going for herself was her speed. She was fast. Well, faster than he expected a girl like her to be.

"That's the best you got?" She taunted with a smirk.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should I add more points to dexterity?" He mocked mimicking her voice to which she turned slightly red.

"Oh, shut up."

"Make me," Peter smirked putting up his gloves. Gwen returned the smirk putting up her own, for the first time in school she felt comfortable. It felt nice being with someone as lame as her.

"Bring it skinny and scrawny."

"Sure, the thing you Gollum lookalike." Gwen glared at Peter. She was going to try to manage her super-strength but for that maybe she'll let her strength 'accidentally' get the better of her. Of course, Peter would never notice. She was strong but had no technique, she just hit like a really strong girl, which to Peter felt like nothing. Despite this Gwen fought worse than the grunts in his gang, but he was having fun with this light-hearted spar and Gwen did too. Today wasn't so bad.

"Today sucks!" Harry whined. Peter and Gwen turned their heads to see Harry currently on the floor taking padded punch after punch on the floor. He didn't look too hurt but clearly wasn't fun. Gwen and Peter shrugged. At least it wasn't them.

And done the chapter. Honestly, this chapter was just going to be Norman and Otto but that was only 2000 words which felt a little cheap to upload and it ended up being 4500 which was a little more than I was expecting but hey. Worked out. Hope you enjoyed it.