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ottoz0ne · 3 months

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Uranium Isn't Cheap-Doctor Octopus Year One one shot.

Uranium isn't cheap. Unfortunately, it's even more expensive when purchased through the black market. For this reason, Otto found himself plotting to rob a bank. It felt beneath him, petty blue collar crime, but he needed materials. He had just started out as a super villain, he had no reputation yet, no warlords looking to buy his weapons, or fund his research. It chafed him, it was humiliating, stealing like an urchin off the streets. He ought to be begged by foreign powers for his intellect! Behind him, he could feel his arms lash the air like the tails of angry cats. Anger burned low and dark in his chest, and he knew just how to let it out.

…..

May Parker was having a good day. Her nephew was in school, the bills were paid on time this month, and she was depositing the rest of the money in her account. It had been difficult without Ben; she still missed him dearly. But , Peter and herself were healing. May was next in line when the wall behind the receptionist was smashed apart. She watched in shock and horror as what looked like silvery tentacles slithered in through the opening, a stout boy in a dark green hazmat suit following behind them. He was being held aloft by the silvery tentacles, hands folded neatly behind his back. A pair of thick square glasses sat on a button nose primly.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I have no desire to shed blood this day. So, I ask that you stay out of my way, and we will all go about with our lives. Dismal as they may be." His voice was mid to deep pitch and oddly melodic, and perhaps under different circumstances it would be sweet. As it was, the calm voice was like ice water. With measured movements he smoothed the dust from his severe bowl cut, and made his way to the vault at the back of the bank. Effortlessly the arms ripped the vault door off the reinforced hinges and let it fall by the wayside. The arms slowed his descent as he walked into the vault. May and the others made a rush for the door. The mass of people trapped them in a bottleneck. Suddenly, the mass stopped trying to get out and began trying to get back in. The sound of bombs going off outside was incentive enough for May. She ran as fast as her aged legs would carry her and ducked behind the receptionist desk, unsure of what the greater danger was or were. The screaming of the crowd was punctuated by a mad cackling and the sound of police sirens. The boy in the hazmat suit ran from the vault, two large cases full of cash in each hand. Police were making their way through the opening in the wall. May tried to curl tighter under the desk.

"Freeze!" The officers screamed.

"No." The boy boardly counters. The arms bolted forward, striking the officers like whips. Bones cracked. May stifled a scream as the carnage played out beside her. The boy took notice of her cries and an idea seemed to dawn on him. A tentacle danced forward before May could make a break for it. It wrapped snugly around her waist before lifting her.

"For those that are still with us, I am taking this woman as collateral. If you shoot at me you will hit her first." His tone was breezy, almost an afterthought as the remaining arms pulled him forward. The claws in each arm dig into the sides of buildings, lifting them both with surprising grace. May felt her stomach churn as the streets grew further away. Her hands fought for purchase on the smooth surface of the tentacle. The metal was warm, like actual flesh. She didn't want to dwell on that thought. Now up high, she could see the police- and Spider-Man fighting with who looked to be the Green Goblin. It was a perfect distraction for the boy in the green hazmat suit.

"Please put me down." May gasped dizziness making her vision swim. If the boy heard her, he did not respond. He simply kept moving forward as fast as the arms could take him. May felt tears spring up; fear of leaving Peter without a guardian made them fall faster. The sound of the fight grew quieter as they moved. It was then the boy started to slow down. May watched as his grip on the cases shifted. 'His fingers must be getting tired.'

"Please, please put me down! I need to get to my nephew." May said, weeping. His head turned slightly, his brows creased.

"I can't let you go just yet. I need to make sure they don't follow me. Afterwards I'll let you be." He sounded hesitant, unhappy with how this had turned out, perhaps? He was young, or at least young by May's standards. He looked his mid to late twenties . Why was such a young boy in this terrible career choice? May didn't have time to contemplate such things, as the boy had found his destination. It looked to be a small apartment on the upper east side. In one swift motion the arms guided them down to the balcony. The boy's feet touched the ground and soon May's did as well.

"Ummm- would you like tea while we wait, ma'am?" He said, voice unsure but hopeful. His eyes darted between looking at her tear trails and her eyes. He all but radiated discomfort. May took a deep breath, calming her nerves as much as she could. She needed both of them to be calm if she was to get out of this alive.

"Yes, thank you." She replied as steady as she could.

The boy set the cases down and trotted off to the small kitchen. The entire apartment was covered in books, odd bobbles, art, and science experiments. Neat as a pin, with a warmth to it she didn't expect. May hesitantly made her way to an ornate sofa set against the wall. The glass coffee table sat in front of her was stacked with even more books, H.P Lovecraft Collection, The World I See, and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. None of them light reading material, as May noted. The little observation helped settle her nerves, gave her something to think about. The boy returned bearing a plate of shortbread cookies and a pot of tea.

"I would like to release you as soon as the sun sets so as to cover any suspicions. I have no interest in being captured by the police. In the meantime, I hope you are comfortable." He did not sit down, just stood there, fingers tracing and fidgeting with the decorative edge of the tray. May felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He looked completely out of his depth with… whatever this was.

"Why don't you sit down with me, we can share the tea." May said, slipping into the nurturing tone she used with Peter.

He nodded robotically and set the tray down, before pouring the two of them cups. The arms layed neatly if stiffly at his feet.

"I apologize for the chaotic nature of this plan, truth be told, it was spur of the moment."

May watched as his cheeks turned red at that confession. She couldn't help comparing him to her Peter in a way.

"I just would… like you to know that." He muttered.

Yes, he was very much like her Peter. Awkward and quiet at times, her mind wondered if this was who he would have ended up as without a good home. Maybe not, Peter was smart, but she didn't think he was that technologically savvy. He favored chemistry.

"What do you plan to do with all that money?" She said, suddenly.

"Oh! I need it for materials. I'm working on a new type of reactor, one that is twice as efficient as the current type." He perked up a bit at the question. A chance to preen never being wasted.

"I see, is that fusion?" She said quietly. The boy looked at her surprised. "My nephew likes science, you pick up a few things. Even an old bat like me."

He made a humming sound as an answer.

"No fusion is very much the metaphorical 'holy grail' for physics like me. I would love to explore that avenue of nuclear science, but as so I have neither the vast amounts of money that would take, nor the space needed." He paused, thinking for a second. "I will still need more room than this small apartment."

May just sat there, listening to him. She felt like a rubber duck rather than an audience. Nodding along and adding in small bits here and there to keep him talking. The longer they talked the more May found herself actually enjoying his conversation, he really was a sweet boy under it all. They were in a lively conversation about classical music when his stomach growled. His entire face turned a bright shade of red at that.

"I apologize." He turned his face away from her, embarrassment making his voice tight.

May was confused at this. Why would you be embarrassed by hunger? The natural nurturing side of her took over.

"Nonsense, no shame in being hungry. I could eat something as well." Her tone was soothing and calm. His sudden shift in mood made her curious, but also leery.

"Oh, I suppose we can order food. I don't have provisions here for anything truly filling. What would you like, dear lady?"

May blinked "Oh I'm not sure, what do you like to eat?"

The boy cocked his head to the side in thought.

"Foie gras with Bergerac. Oysters, most seafood actually, though my favorite is lobster. Oh truffle stuffed chicken is delicious. Salmon risotto…"

May lifted her hands, stopping the fast flow of dishes he rattled off. Who eats Foie gras?

"Do you like Chinese food?" She said, offering a small grandmotherly smile.

"Oh yes. Should we order that?" Attentively waiting for her response.

"Yes. That sounds lovely." She mentally signed in relief. He has some high-brow tastes for someone so young. He nodded quickly, springing up and entering the little kitchen. A second later returned with a menu from a local restaurant, and handed it to May. Several things had been marked with either red or black ink. May assumed the red were ones he didn't like. She smiled at how both coconut shrimp and the sesame chicken were both double underlined in black.

"I think I'll have the sesame chicken." She said handing the menu back. He nodded again with a small genuine smile on his face. It was sweet with his cupid's bow lips, he looked almost childlike. His stomach growled again, and his smile faltered.

"When was the last time you ate?" May questioned playfully.

"O-oh, ummm- I don't know, I get wrapped up in my projects and forget sometimes." He looked anywhere but at May. As if he was ashamed? Like a child scolded too much, he ducked and avoided her eyes. May now recognized the behavior, and her heart warred between sorrow and anger. She had been a teacher for ages, and was well versed in how abused children acted.

"My boy does that as well. Always down in the basement playing with chemicals. I worry for him." She moved slowly, always keeping him in sight, then gently patted his arm as a show of comfort. He didn't react, instead he seemed to freeze. Unsure how to process the interaction, more than likely. Then to her relief, he relaxed. She wasn't a threat.

"Ummm I think I'll get a double portion of the sesame chicken and coconut shrimp. I'm very hungry, now that I stop and think." He mumbled, as an arm extended to pick up the home phone. arm deposited it in his outstretched hand. A few minutes later, the order was placed, and the two resumed the conversation from earlier. He was far more relaxed, May noted, like he had made some internal decision and was pleased. A knock at the door announced that their food had arrived.

"Excuse me." The doctor said, rising from the sofa. The arms reached over and opened the case of cash and pulled out one of the neatly stacked and bound packs. Bringing one to the boy, he counted out the right amount before donning a brown trench coat, somewhat hiding the metallic arms. He opened the door with as little as he could without impeding his movement. He looked quite pleased with himself as he walked back. The arms closed and locked the door as he carried the food bags. 'If he didn't look like a little boy before, he did then. A happy child.' May thought as he dished out the two's meal.

"Forgive me if this seems rude, but- how old are you?" May asked.

"Oh dear lady, I don't think you could be rude. I'm 21." He said measuring out the amount of soy sauce he used on his food.

"Oh- you're still a child!" May gasped.

"They didn't see me as a child when they tried me." He growled. May internally panicked, she needed to calm him quickly.

"I'm sorry. You're just such a sweet boy. It makes my poor heart hurt to see you in such an ordeal." She said smoothly. The anger seemed to burn out of him, either by her words or by his own inner conflict.

"I know. I just don't want to remind myself of the past." He was content to eat in silence after that. The tense atmosphere sinking into a dormant melancholy. May gazed outside as the sun slowly sank, its dying light turning the world golden. 'He said he'd let me go after sundown.' She thought, turning her head back to the boy. She took full notice of him now in the golden light, little things that escaped her before. Noting his clean if sharply cut auburn hair, the bowl cut was clearly home done. He pushed up his thick glasses up every now and then, a habit he didn't even seem to register doing. His posture was awful; he seemed to slump more often than not. She couldn’t gauge his actual height because of it. Lastly, she noticed how the arms no longer lay stiffly, but more loosely around him. One lay close to her foot the other was curled on the couch. She couldn't see the last two; they were hidden by his bulk.

"How do they work, your other arms?"

He stopped eating at her question. He trained his eyes on the arm at his side.

"I can't answer that question, I have to keep some secrets, but they are my greatest invention. A true extension- and part of me." He said quietly, fondly and with much love. He looked up at May suddenly. "It's sundown, I promised I would let you go at sundown and I do not lie. You're free to go." His voice was serious and monotone. As though trying to be intimidating; to sound heartless. May nodded numbly, putting her fork down.

"Can I have some paper?" She said, placing her plate on the coffee table. The boy's eyebrows furrowed but did as she requested, an arm pulling a notebook to them. May took the notebook from the clawed arm gingerly. Flipping it open, it was filled with notes and beautiful sketches. May paused for a second, admiring them before searching for a blank page.

"You're a talented artist." She said, finally finding a blank page.

"Thank you." His monotone was momentarily colored by an edge of pride. With quick movements, May wrote something down.

"My home phone number. You're a wonderful boy, I hope we can stay friends." She said, handing the book back to the child as she stood.

"Otto. My name is Otto." He couldn't meet her eyes. If he did, she would see tears in them.

"Otto. I hope we can talk again soon." At that, she made her way to the door. Tuning the bolt she felt a twinge of sadness, leaving poor Otto alone.

'Peter. I need to get back to Peter.' She reminded herself, closing the door. It would be a long bus ride home.

#IM NOT CRYING #YOURE CRYING #oh my god this is so good fghdjg I LOVE HIMMM #this is the absolute best take on him imo THIS is how it should be

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