Chapter 4 I Am...

FATR: I haven't made a list of the arms' names yet because I haven't named them all in the fic. Now I will, and I will explain the thought process behind which one is which. I realize that when good ol' Alfred named them, the top right was Flo, top left was Moe, and Harry and Larry were the bottom two, though I couldn't find anything that specified which was which. Now, I watched my insanely low quality DLed version of the movie and it seemed the one with the smaller tentacle inside (used to abduct May and MJ) seemed to be on the same side as the one with the smaller pincers. It seemed that there were two arms with no special functions at all. I took the liberties of shifting things around a bit, making up a new special function based on Larry's curiosity, etc. Here are the arms' names, fonts, functions, and general (I stress 'general') dispositions:

(Moe)- top right, smaller tentacle, concerned praise-seeker

#Flo#- top left, smaller pincers, optimistic female

Larry- bottom right, night/x-ray vision, inquisitive

Harry- bottom left, blade, tough pessimist

I stress low quality because I may have misjudged some of the tentacle positions. I will purchase the movie when it comes out.

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Otto found getting back difficult due to the cumbersome bags. He had tried to keep it simple but still ended up with four bags. He had two, and a tentacle had two. Fortunately, they made it back to the abandoned street without incident. He set down on a roof and every set of available eyes he possessed scanned the streets. When all was clear, they shot down the building and ripped off the manhole cover.

We cannot fit everything down at the same time.

Otto noticed this too, but only as he stood in the street and stared into the gaping pit. The arms each took a bag and lowered them in carefully while the bottom left remained alert for trouble. Otto's eyes darted around from shadow to shadow as well, though most of the time they were trained on the strip of night sky between the buildings. The last thing he needed to deal with now was the wall crawler. Dr. Octopus standing in the middle of a desolate street lowering mysterious bags into the sewer must appear to be everything but innocent. He had no reason to expect the arachnid to understand everything that had happened to him since his resurrection. And because Peter Parker worked for the Bugle, he had no desire to let the boy see him alive. Let the city take him for dead. He could live in relative peace that way. He watched the final bag move towards the hole. The entire process had taken less than a minute, but every second that passed was a second he could be spotted. The last bag went down and the tentacles finally lowered him into the all concealing darkness. The lid clanged shut and he leaned against the wall panting. He hadn't previously realized how anxious being up there had made him, but he was safe now, and the arms could now be of more assistance with his burdens.

As they navigated the catacombs, the upper left arm hovered beside him at shoulder level. #When you get to thinking about it, I too desire a name. Like my brother.#

Otto was not as surprised as he would have been to hear the undertone of jealousy. I'll begin working on that now. He watched the arm give him something that may have been a nod and it fell back and to the side a bit. The arms were evolving quickly. He wondered at that. Had he made them that intelligent or was it because he was projecting personalities on them? Was he that lonely? Either way, he also wondered why the one hovering and twisting through the air on his left seemed to be developing such a distinctly female personality. Her movements were fluid, she almost flowed through air. The female arm needed a distinctly feminine name. Flora.

The left one turned to him. #Is that to be my name?#

Don't you like it?

#It's fine...#

Don't just agree with me because you think you have to.

#Well... It just seems... too girly.#

Otto smiled. The flower reference in the name had been due to his ache to have Rosie back with him, but the arm's reaction had disproved his theory that he was projecting his own desires onto them. This made him feel a little less insane. What if we simply shorten it to Flo, then?

#Flo...# She bobbed up and down excitedly. #That one is perfect. I'm Flo.#

I'm Larry.

(And I'm...)

Moe. Otto mentally chuckled.

(Moe...) It mumbled reflectively.

Otto's head jerked up to face his top right tentacle. You like that one?

(Yes. Flo and Moe. It has a nice ring to it.)

Joe has the same sound.

It shook its head. (I like Moe.)

Moe it is then. And how about you? Any preference? Curly perhaps? The arms twittered a bit in what may have been laughter but he couldn't be sure.

I want to be Dirty Harry.

#Oh, oh, can I be Xena?#

I want to be Hercules!

No, I want to be Hercules!

(Yeah, well, I want to be Zeus!)

#Then can I be Hera? No, no... Athena!#

Then I can be-

The doctor stopped walking and put his head in his hands. Alright, everyone calm down and talk one at a time.

(Now look what you've done to father.)

What we did? You were doing it to!

#You started it, 'Dirty Harry.'#

Enough! Stop fighting or none of you will get names. Things in his head quieted down pretty quickly at that threat. Now, you are Flo, you are Moe, and you are Larry. He pointed to each one of his children in turn. And you can be Harry, if you wish. Silence followed.

Harry works.

Right. Dr. Octavius began moving again, scanning the wall for his hide out. He had to put the bags through first. Larry and Harry ripped off the grate and boosted him up, and Flo helped Moe get the bags down the tunnel. Once all the bags were through, they pulled their father through.

The grate clanked back into place and Otto's feet were lowered to the ground. Larry directed him to the bag of cleaning supplies and Otto fumbled with the knot. He did not want to cut it in the event that he needed the bag later. Did you make any interesting discoveries on your initial exploration?

There is another tunnel at the back.

#It is larger than our entrance. Moe and I think it goes outside.#

(There is a slight breeze coming through it.)

Otto looked around at the strewn about pipes. If that is the case, we can barricade it with those. For a while, at least. Harry and Larry set about this task while Flo and Moe watched their father finally wrestle the bag open. The room was taller than it was wide, but they had quite a task ahead of them.

Flo took two buckets and set them under two dripping pipes. Her father was wrestling with the bag from the lab now. He intended to attempt a water purifier or something. She peered over his shoulder, awaiting instruction.

I am going to plug the welder into your power source. I need you and Moe to help me reach the back. Let me know if it hurts.

#We cannot feel, father. Don't worry.# She watched him cut the cord at the base and strip the wires. She dipped down behind his back to help light what Moe was doing at her connection to the artificial spine, though her light flickered in and out as wires were tweaked. Father handed the bare wires back to them and she used her finer pincers to reincorporate the new wires into her old system. #It is done.#

Otto experimentally flicked the welder on, smiled, and bent to his task. As he worked he thought about himself. It was obvious he wasn't cut out for the evil genius gig, he wasn't even sure if he was that much of a genius. He apparently knew how to build sentient beings, but strangely enough his social skills were severely underdeveloped. It was the result of spending all his youth with his nose in a book. He had never really given himself a childhood. In fact, he had skipped third grade and later sixth grade. He had done it for his mother in his never ending quest to make her proud. He could never earn his father's pride, but that was over now. Over and gone, in another life. All ties to that life needed to be completely and utterly cut.

#Why didn't you and mother reproduce biologically?#

Otto smiled at the question. That is the natural instinct of the female of any species, isn't it?

(You are avoiding the question.)

I just... I didn't think I could do it, I suppose. I never learned how.

Moe's like flickered as he processed this. (Never learned how to... reproduce, father?)

What... no, I didn't mean... Otto laughed in his head. It doesn't take a lot of skill to create a life, but raising that life is an entirely different story.

#We think you are a great father.#

Yes, but you... you are machines. I can work with machines, but people...

(What about mother?)

Though the question was vague on the surface, the scientist knew what Moe really meant by it. She told me she wanted me to be able to focus on my work.

#But is it not every female's natural instinct to reproduce?#

Well... To Otto's dismay when he tried to remember what exactly Rosie had said on that subject, he couldn't. Had he really taken her so much for granted? He had loved her, he still loved her, more than his own life. Look where he had ended up without her. Maybe if she had been there to support him, help him through his accident, he wouldn't have wound up where he was tonight. Is there no end to my selfishness? How the heck did I get this way?

(Don't call yourself selfish! You are nothing of the kind!)

Oh no? Otto stopped his work to look right at Moe while Flo watched curiously from the other side. The other two paused their work to watch as well, though they did not move any closer just yet. What about all the nights she went to sleep alone because I was too busy? How many parties and dates did she sacrifice so that I could work? And I don't even give her a child with which to fill those hours.

You did things with her that you didn't necessarily want to do. How about the camping? Harry suddenly interjected.

The broken man put his face in his hands. Yes. We compromised and she went out and got an air mattress. I was selfish and it eventually killed her... and me. He looked up, determination setting his jaw. Not this time. I will work through this, and I will go up and explore, just like I promised. I'll do it on her terms, with an open mind. I'll... He turned back to his work. He didn't feel a whole lot better but it was a start.

He didn't know how long he stayed down there. Once all the pipes were clear, his children left him to work in silence and began sweeping up. He worked on the purifier nonstop. It was easier now that night and day no longer existed. The tentacles played desk lamp in shifts, though it was Flo who usually hung over him, watchful like a mother. When that was finished, he moved on to purifying the water in one of the now filled buckets. A towel was torn up and man and machine began to scrub the place down. It was tough work, but the mindlessness of it allowed him to think. There were times when he would break down in tears, sobbing voicelessly into the dark. There were other times when he would laugh insanely, or scream in frustration, though all the noise was always in his head. With the extreme lack of external stimuli, the only source of entertainment was internal. This turning inside himself was painful, but long over do. At the end of his work he stripped of his dirty clothes for the tentacles to take care of, blew up the air mattress, and settled into the sleeping bag with a can of tomato soup. Harry stabbed a hole in the top through which Otto could sip. The man surveyed his new home, smiled, and turned inward once more.