It was Friday morning. The day appeared as if it would heat up, but the morning fog created a creepy look. Rosie and Anna stayed Thursday night at the Parkers' persuaded by Mary-Jane. Anna and Hillary stood before the mirror solemnly getting ready for the trial. A piercing, anxious silence hung in the household preventing anyone from smiling.

Anna silently brushed her hair while staring at herself in the mirror. He won't win, she thought. They're not going to let him go…

Hillary was buttoning her coat. She looked over at Anna. "You ok?" she asked.

"Sure." She replied. Anna continued staring at herself in the mirror and brushing the same spot of hair over and over again.

Hillary grabbed Anna's brush and pulled it down. "If you brush that spot anymore, you'll be bald," she commented, trying to lighten the mood.

It took a moment for Anna to get out of her trance. "Huh? Oh. Sorry." She set the brush on the dresser.

Hillary could sense that Anna wasn't as ok as she had said. "It'll go fine," she assured her friend.

"You don't know that," Anna retorted, her tentacles hissing, then calming down. "Sorry again. It's just, I'm so afraid for him. I've always taken Dad for granted but now... I can't bare the thought of him not coming home. He's the only one who actually understands me." Anna wiped her hand over her eye. "I—I've got an eyelash in my eye," she sobbed, wiping harder.

"Hillary, could you come here for a moment?" Mary-Jane called from down the hall.

"Sure, I'll be right there," she answered. Hillary hugged Anna lovingly. "It really is okay to cry." Anna hugged her harder and the tears came. "Things will work out eventually. And I'll be with you through it all. Don't worry." After another moment, Hillary walked off down the hall and Anna wiped her tears away.

Don't get too distracted by her.

She's only trouble.

It's in her blood.

"Hillary's my best friend," Anna said.

If you aren't careful, we may be pulled out of our plan.

"What—what plan?" Anna asked fearfully walking towards the living room. A tentacle faced her and she jumped.

We will brief you on it later.

"Hey, I'm the one in charge here, I deserve to know what your planning behind my back," Anna said. Whoa, bad pun, she thought.

You shall be told in time.

"Ok. After the trial. As soon as the judge dismisses us, I expect a briefing."

Fine. After the trial.

Control them. Don't let them control you. Anna remembered her father saying. As time went on, she realized more and more that her father's tips and warnings were true. They were advice drawn from experience.

Everyone got in the car and drove off to the courthouse.

XXX

The judge walked up to the front and took a seat; the room went silent until Otto, surrounded by policemen slid behind the table next to his lawyer: the nervous little thing hardly looked up at him. A guard was stationed at each tentacle wrapped generously in padding, duct tape and tied to the others with steel cables. One of the policemen turned the armless chair sideways and pushed Otto into it.

"This court is now in session." The bailiff announced. He looked at the judge and the judge nodded.

"This man, standing before you, has been charged with murder of the second degree, murder of the first degree, vandalism, attempted murder, abduction…" the judge went on.

Sure I'm going to sound guilty if he states it like that. Otto thought.

"Mr. Ock…"

"Octavius, please," Otto corrected the judge.

"Ok, Octavius," the judge agreed. "How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," he answered. The jury gasped. The tentacles clicked happily beneath their padding.

"Have you seen the security tapes?" the judge asked. "There isn't much room for argument."

"Judge, can I say something?" Peter spoke up, standing. This drew the judge's attention. "He was under influence."

"Intoxication by drugs is against the law also, young man," the judge answered.

"Your honor, he wasn't under the influence of drugs, he was under the influence of those," he defended, pointing to Otto's tentacles.

They are talking about us! The tentacles squealed in confused distress.

Why are they bringing us into the matter?

"They are a strong voice and have a say in anything he does. They have a mind of their own and often overrule his. Your honor, he never wanted to hurt anyone. They're in his head, messing with his thoughts. Tempting him. The actuators controlled him."

Otto gave Peter a thankful smile.

"They're machines," the judge protested flatly. "We can't try machines. And besides: if what you say is true, Dr. Octavius is still dangerous and something must be done about him."

"He used to have a microchip that kept them under control," Peter continued, desperately. "Maybe he could make it again."

"Thank you, sir," the judge dismissed him and Peter sat back down. "Let the lawyers do the arguing, please. Mr. McDuff, please state your argument at this time."

A man in a sleek, black suit stood up and turned to the judge, "Thank you, your honor." He turned to face the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, ask yourselves this: why should we let him go free? To wreak havoc like last time? He viciously murdered hundreds without a single thought to it."

I did not kill hundreds, Otto thought. He glanced at his lawyer beside him, who nervously thumbed through his argument. Otto wondered if he would be able to stand against the crushing accusations.

"On top of that, he ruined the West Side Tower and a small café costing hundreds of thousands of dollars. Not to mention almost caused the deaths of one-half of New York. And he didn't care one wit about it, did you?" he quizzed crossing his arms and looking testily at Otto.

"I cannot express how terrible I feel," he said with his head lowered. "I shouldn't have given in, but in my defense, I didn't realize what they could do when I submitted to them. I have been fighting them as hard as I possibly can, and I have a sparkling record to show for it. I don't even have overdue library books."

The judge began to strike his gavel.

"This isn't a laughing matter," the lawyer stated.

Otto looked into his eyes. "Who was laughing?"

"Dr. Octavius," his lawyer said carefully. "Please, let me handle this."

"Gentlemen!" the judge said, exasperated. "wait until he's sworn in."

"Yes." McDuff said, speaking to the jury again. "Influence or no influence, Doctor Octopus committed those crimes. If we release him, who's not to say that his 'tentacles' won't influence him again to do it again? Weakness of moral strength is no excuse for the tragedies it caused. We can't let him go free just because we feel sorry for what he has to go through. So the question boils down to this: 'Pity? Or New York City?'" the man sat back down.

"I object!" Otto's lawyer announced, standing. "I'm sure my client is just a man. He probably had no say in the matter."

"'I'm sure'? 'Probably'?" McDuff asked scornfully. "Is that all you have to go on? He obviously had control. They act according to his mood. This mental struggle of good and evil between them is hardly believable. The facts don't allow such a rash plead for insanity. Do they, Ock?" McDuff snarled.

"Order!" the judge began hitting the stand with his gavel. "Mr. McDuff, please stop interacting with the suspect. Now if you're quite done, please take a seat."

As soon as McDuff sat down, Peter stood once again, despite Mary-Jane's efforts to restrain him. "May I say something else?" he asked.

"You're out of order," the judge said.

"McDuff accuses Dr. Octavious of full control. He had control at the demonstration but the actuators are broken."

"Sit down or I'll have you removed," warned the judge.

"He is getting better at controlling his tentacles and deserves another chance," Peter continued. The jury began stirring and humming with alarming words.

The judge motioned for the bailiff to escort Peter outside. Peter jerked away, angrily, but in the end walked calmly out.

The rest of the trial didn't go much better.

Afterwards, Anna leaned over the railing to Otto. The actuators alerted him of her presence and he turned around, deep lines in his forehead.

"Dad, I can't do it. I just can't do it! I'm too weak!" she cried.

"You are one of the strongest people I know, Anna," he said, his voice shaking a bit at the edges as he thought about his probable fate.

"They keep telling me to do things, all the time, and I find myself wanting to do some of them: even the destructive things. I'm scared, Dad," she grabbed for him. "I can't do this without you."

Otto did his best to hug her with his hands handcuffed behind his back and saw Rosie approach. "I'm coming home," he promised, looking into both of their eyes in turn. "Legally. And if the worst should happen," he shrugged, with a forced smile to lift the mood. "I'll expect regular visits from you both, with cookies."

"I'll make you all the cookies you can handle," Rosie said, hugging Otto and kissing him waveringly on the cheek.

"I won't let them keep you," Anna replied stubbornly. "I won't."

Otto looked sternly into her eyes. "If that's what the jury decides, you will. Remember: your appendages are not your friends. Don't listen to them. Ever. Promise me, Anna."

Anna stared back into her father's eyes. She hesitated, but he was firm. "I promise," she finally conceded.

Otto smiled at her as the police surrounding him pulled him through the crowd.

"I love you both more than you could ever know!" Otto called to them with a brave smile. They returned their own versions and waved.

She will come after you, the actuators said, eyeing the crowd. Do not worry.

"That's exactly what worries me," Otto mumbled back.

"Keep moving!" A young policeman said, pushing Otto forward.

Doc Ock turned back to the man. "I would advise against rough-housing me." He stated as the tentacles lifted towards him. "My hands may be bound, but they're the least of your problems."

The policeman jumped. He began sweating and gulped. "If—if you think that scares me, then—then you're wrong," he stated. "And threatening an officer is a federal offense."

"I was only joking," Otto replied as he allowed the poor, frightened man to do his job and walked in front of him into custody.

We must attack.

That policeman is close enough to strike.

We are ready and we will act.

"No," Otto muttered to them. "We must stay. You do not act unless I tell you to."

We will act.

"I am your master. You answer to me!"

"Whatever you say, Ock," said one of the older guards sarcastically.

"No, I was talking to…" he looked away. "someone else."

He arrived at his cell and went in, where they took off the handcuffs and locked him to the floor with heavy metal bands around his wrists, ankles, neck, and four on each tentacle.

The door was shut and thus ended the first day of court. Both sides of the argument seemed accurate – Peter's being the defendant. His lawyer seemed to pretty much agree with the prosecutor. Otto, himself, wasn't sure which side he agreed with. All he knew was that he didn't want to leave his family.