In a rather stately, if a touch formal, waiting room on the 12th floor of Lumal Tower in Nueva York there was, in the high corner of the room, a television screen. Normally such a thing wouldn't have been found in such a place but it had been decided that it was best to have, if only to avoid the repetitive questions that seemed to forever come up before its introduction. There were not sports shows or home renovation programs playing on it; no, instead, playing on a loop, was a video.
"Well, I suppose we should go over this one more time," a voice filled with dignity if a bit of weariness said as a hard cover book, embossed with a Spider Logo, slowly flipped open. "My name is Doctor Richard Parker III of Earth-882."
The book's pages continued to flip until they stopped on a man that resembled, quick frankly, many people who came Nueva City to work with the Spider Society; named Peter Parker. The only true difference between him and most other Parkers was the full beard that covered his jaw, carefully trimmed and maintained. That... and the rather detached look in his eye. Even being a drawing it was clear that Dr. Parker was used to seeing many things and not connecting with them emotionally, unlike so many other Peters who felt far too much. It was needed for his work, to be able to do his job and not be crushed by the weight of it.
"When I was 23 years old I was bitten by an irradiated Spider. And for the last 11 years I have been my world's one and only Spider-Man."
The pages began to flip faster so that the drawings gained fluid movement, showcasing Doctor Parker pulling on his mask before going out webslinging.
"And perhaps you know the rest? I got a job at Ravencroft where I worked to help those in distress."
Case files and pictures of Doctor Parker working with Cletus Cassidy and Quentin Beck appeared on the screen.
"I saved the city through my work." The narrator's voice, up to that point steady and strong, faltered ever so slightly. "I... lost my fiancé." A photo of Doctor Parker standing with a beaming Harry Osborn appeared on the screen. "And... I wasn't able to save my best friend."
News reports about Gwen Stacy, the Green Goblin, appeared, showing her arrest. She was wearing half her outfit, the other half street clothes, eyes wide and mouth twisted into a demented leer, the blond laughing manically as she was hauled away by the police.
"I tell you this to let you know that I understand your pain. I truly do. And together... I will help you understand your pain as well."
After that were testimonials from people from his world, discussing how he had helped them with their pain and their issues. That would continue on for about 10 minutes before the video would loop back to the beginning.
None of this was actually seen by anyone. The waiting room was completely empty. Even Doctor Parker wasn't in there.
No... he was too busy looking at the damage to his wall.
"He should have called me," Richard said with a shake of his head.
"Listen, I know this looks bad," Lyla said.
"Looks?" Richard said, looking down his nose at the hardlight woman. He had removed his mask once the dust, metaphorically of course, had settled. "There is no 'look' in this matter. There are only the hard cold facts."
"Its just a turn of phrase, Doc," she said.
"Do not call me that," Richard said. Everyone in the Society was trying to give him a cute little name. Spider-Shrink. Psy-Spider. He loathed it entirely. It made a mockery of his hard work! Just because most Spider-Men did little in their daily lives to make good use of their vast intelligence did not make it right for them to try and force himself to dumb himself down for their amusement. "You are a program, Lyla. A creation of a computer."
"I'm a sentient artificial intelligence," she said dryly.
Richard waved his hand dismissively. "My point remains... you are, at your base, a being of logic and fact. Ones and zeroes. Something or nothing. So I want for you to consider the facts. Miguel O'Hara is not emotionally stable."
"Miguel set all this up-"
"And I am grateful for that," Richard said. "I am. It allows me to help my multi-dimensional selves. However just because one is skilled in one area does not mean they are skilled in all. Miguel saw the patterns that proved that certain events cannot be altered, for the good of the Multiverse. But that does not mean he has the temperament to handle the emotions of others."
He shook his head in annoyance. Honestly the man was the LAST person that should have been involved in such things and it annoyed him to no end that no one saw that. Miguel was a good strategist, a better scientist… but he was not one that worked well with others. So many of the issues the Spider Society had run into had been caused by him and those he surrounded himself with and if the man would just LISTEN and THINK on what others in the proper fields had to say… well, Richard wouldn't be staring at a massive hole in the middle of his office wall.
"Miguel is doing the best he can with what he has-"
Once more Richard cut her off. "He is not. He has the entire Society at his disposal and he either does not use it or chooses to use the worst people possible." He let out a frustrated sigh. "I know it is in your programming to be loyal to him so I don't blame you for your statements."
"I am loyal to him because he is my friend."
"You don't have friends," Richard stated. "You are the result of an advance program, Lyla. Everything about you is programmed into your very being. Decided before you ever came on line. It would be like me equating my ability to laugh with having brown hair. One is something developed because I am a living being. The other is programmed via my DNA. Friendship doesn't come through one's genetics and it certainly doesn't come through the data. What you feel is a direct command to defend Miguel. Not friendship."
She glared at him but he paid her little heed. One didn't get offended when a video game character complained about one's actions. Or a Chat Bot made an insult. Lyla was well programmed but that was all she was: a program.
"Miguel has Spider-Men who are great infiltrators and spies. He sends the most garish off on missions. He has those of us that have invented devices that have revolutionized our worlds. He chooses children who hide in their rooms and treat heroics as a video game to design 'Go-Home Machines'." He scoffed that.
"And he has you?" Lyla asked with a hint of sarcasm.
But Richard merely nodded. "Yes, exactly. The moment Miles Morales appeared in Nueva York he should have been brought here, so I might talk to him and help him work out the feelings he was having about the news. To explain the situation in a safe, controlled environment. It was probably the most stressful bit of information the child was ever given and Miguel decided, in yet another sign of his diminished wisdom, to deliver it himself. Most likely because he allows himself to be ruled by his anger. Something I have brought up time and again that needs to be addressed." He shot Lyla a considering look. "You are getting him my messages, aren't you?" He had been demanded Miguel see him for regular sessions for months, with always pushback and vague promises.
"Of course," she said sharply. "I am a program, after all. I must do as I am ordered."
"Quite, as I assumed," Richard said. "Then it is Miguel himself who is choosing to ignore good mental health." He sighed, looking at the wall again. "I suppose we'll need to meet and discuss his sabbatical."
"His sabbatical?" Lyla repeated.
"Of course," Richard said with a slight laugh. "There is no way he can be allowed to continue on without some sort of break. The property damage he caused-"
"And the kid that is hurt," Lyla added.
Richard waved her off. "Yes yes… Miles. I will be meeting with him when he wakes up. Miguel's utter failure in explaining things will make my job harder… though it is already hard with the condition of my office."
He sighed as he looked at the hole; it just kept drawing his eyes to it. Repairing it would mean delays and headaches… even if it would only take a day it would still mean having to reschedule appointments, locking down his files, redecorating… all because of Miguel and his inability to talk with people!
"He was a fool," he muttered. "He couldn't have handled this situation worse if he had tried!" He began to go over the facts. "According to the records that Gwen-65B and Peter-616B provided us when it became clear his world was the next to go through a canon event Miles Morales was already dealing with the death of his Uncle and the Spider-Man of his world. Their interviews spoke of behavioral problems, a lack of self confidence, and I'll need to speak with him more but very likely Imposter Syndrome which was not helped by Miguel's actions and words." He had listened to the recordings of Miguel fighting Miles and had found them utterly tactless.
"To meet with this boy he selected himself, a man suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Hyper-Situational Control Desires, and Intermittent Explosive Disorder. Just to name a few. He also had Gwen-65B, an avoidance –laden teenager suffering from untreated Survivor's Guilt and Depression, a lack of future sight when it comes to her actions which also leans towards the inability to see fault in herself, and her drive to push others away has moved, in my opinion, to near sociopathic tendencies. Hobie-138C is in fact a sociopath with a general mistrust in all authority and a need to attack all signs of order around him. Peter-616B, who also suffered from Depression as well as Issue Avoidance, Commitment Issues, and Fatigue… also a lack of Danger/Risk Assessment considering he believes bringing a toddler into dangerous situations is a fun adventure. His… over attachment to his daughter also speaks of possible Abandonment Issues and unhealthy emotional displacement. And finally Jessica-404." He began to tick off the points. "Beyond just the hormones there is Emotional Detachment, Misplaced Attachment Syndrome, a lack of Empathy, and Self Harm."
"And you would know about a lack of Empathy," Lyla stated.
"Indeed. And because of all of them the situation is far graver than it should be. Once I have repaired my wall I will need to see to freeing up my schedule. Not only should I meet with all of them but there will be plenty of Spiders who wish to request my service."
"That… is where you are wrong."
Richard turned to the hardlight construct. "Pardon?"
"You're wrong… about your patients. I chatted with your AI assistant… you have none scheduled."
"…well, it is still early," Richard said. That was reasonable, he supposed. It had only been a few hours. "Once things settle-"
"You don't understand," Lyla said and now he could detect glee in her voice… but also vindictiveness. Which was madness because she was a computer program and they could not be vindictive or cruel or seek revenge. "All your other patients canceled."
"…that must be an error." He moved to his desk to pull up his appointment book.
"Oh, its no error," Lyla said, adjusting her glasses. "See, everything that happened? Its got people thinking down there. Reevaluating. And they all decided that a shrink that cares more about his wall than helping them?" She leaned in close. "Well… he's not much help at all, is he?"
She paused.
"But what do I know… I don't have emotions."
Her smile was fierce and sharp as she blinked out.
Richard frowned, still turning on his computer. It had to be a mistake. It just had to be. He was always booked…
Well, new arrivals, he should say. Many new members came to him to discuss things, when they joined. Their problems were all the same… Richard had heard them a thousand times. An uncle died. A loved one. Someone turned evil. It grew tedious and sometimes he did long for something new…
He paused, looking at this appointment calendar. Truly looking at it.
All the appointments… were new ones.
A few second visits.
And… after that…
Nothing.
He… hadn't had a regular patient… in nearly a year.
Richard slumped in his chair.
Oh we can be heroes