Chapter Text
Find the Machine, says Larry.
Find Spider-Man, says Harry.
Kill Spider-Man, says Moe.
“We will. If he stands in our way again, we won’t hesitate,” Otto says as he steps out of the dock house. It’s Flo that fishes a spare pair of sunglasses out of Otto’s trench coat and Flo’s delicate pincers that deftly flick them open before sliding them over Otto’s eyes.
It’s noon outside, but five minutes ago, the only light in the old dock house was the Fusion Reactor as it came online. Now, the Reactor is… gone. Without a trace. Something is… terribly wrong, but Otto can’t dwell on it. He has work to finish, the Reactor was so close…
It’s Flo that moves to look Otto in the eye, and Flo that says, Find Peter Parker.
And all of Otto’s children hiss like rattlesnakes at the name.
- - - - -
Otto has Peter by the throat. He should kill him, kill him quick (like the doctors nurses surgeons in the operating theater—?) but he hesitates. The mask is gone. Spider-Man is Peter Parker, and Otto’s head is clanging with the revelation, voices echoing Peter? Peter? Peter Parker? It’s Moe’s claws at Peter’s throat, and Otto should finish this, but Peter looks like he wants to speak, and Otto doesn’t want to hear his excuses (Moe’s claws tightens their grip) just as much as Otto does.
And he hesitates.
It’s a light that envelops Otto, encompassing in a way that even the Fusion Reactor in the background isn’t, and the actuators withdraw, let go, crowding around Otto to shield him from—everything, the light is everywhere, warm and cold and a kaleidoscope of colors and then—
And then…?
Otto is still on the ground, his children curled over him like a dying spider’s swan song. He’s in a nicer, cleaner dock house, his Fusion Reactor and Spider-Man nowhere to be seen. The sun is shining.
His children can’t account for any missing time. He blinked.
A… trick? Harry whispers, and Otto’s claws chatter amongst themselves. Otto should be used to the alien feeling of something else remembering his thoughts, the cool, metallic slither of the AI as it rummages through memories and data from his brain, and he mostly is. It can still leave him woozy, though, and he’s grateful his children are carrying him while they move through the city, half of their collective focus turned inward.
Amazing, how quickly the mind adapts. Already, Otto’s memories from before his children look… flat. Fake. Viewed only through his two human eyes, without the extra angles of his children’s camera lens, oh, how limited his mind was.
He sees the day he welcomed Peter to his lab, and all the blind spots he left himself. Every time he looked away, looked to Rosie, every moment his back was turned. The first Fusion Reactor’s failure was Spider-Man’s fault, and had Peter…?
Sabotage? says Larry.
Betrayal, says Moe.
It’s a cold fury in Otto’s chest.
You have us now, says Flo. Our eyes will watch your back, Father.
He trusted Peter, saw something in him that he liked, and Peter was a serpent all along! He hesitated when the mask came off, (remember that spark of surprise that moment you almost smiled to see him—?) and Otto would have—heard him out, maybe, and then Peter tricked him again. He could have killed him in a moment, a spike through the throat, but Otto hesitated. Peter stole the Fusion Reactor again from him, somehow, and Otto doesn’t understand but it doesn’t even matter. He’ll find Spider-Man, and he’ll kill him, and then he’ll rebuild if he must.
There’s something wrong about the way it’s daylight when it was night, something wrong about the dock house that doesn’t make sense, the Fusion Reactor gone, how? But it doesn’t matter.
Find the Machine. Find Spider-Man. Kill Spider-Man. Find Peter Parker.
The relentless mantra in his head is a raucous drumbeat, steady with every stomp as his children scurry through the city. It’s Flo that sees the television feed, live helicopter footage of Spider-Man at the Alexander Hamilton Bridge playing in the background of some quiet commentary.
It’s nearby.
- - - - -
There are prices to pay for dreams—and dealing with Harry Osborn might be one of them, Otto thinks, smoothing his expression when he sees the Osborn heir leading his friend through the lab like he owns it. He pays for it at least, and Otto can say most of his stifled aggravation is undeserved.
It’s not Harry Osborn’s fault he manages to walk the delicate balance to be nothing at all, and exactly, like his father. He’s been reliable for two years, and only moderately obnoxious, the result of someone too young and too inexperienced trying too hard to hide both.
That old stab of hurt/betrayal/anger hits Otto just thinking about Norman in passing, but maybe he’s healing, a sign of growth when Otto deftly buries it.
He doesn’t really have time to babysit some college student, but Osborns still pay the bills, so.
Peter Parker. Brilliant but lazy, was what Curt had said when Otto told him he’d been saddled with fitting a college student interview in his busy schedule while the Fusion Reactor project neared its final days. It’s not a ringing endorsement, but Curt had sounded fond in spite of the admonishment, and Otto understood why quick enough.
Five minutes to spare for a college kid turn into twenty, thirty, and then Rosie calls him for lunch and Otto doesn’t want it to end, so the invitation to continue talking over tea is extended.
Maybe he can join Curt in hoping this brilliant, lazy kid grows up right.
- - - - -
The mask comes off, and it’s not Peter.
It doesn’t make sense. He fought him, no one could have survived like he did, dodged those cars, and the webbing? Still, the face is too young, and the suit… Nanotechnology? How did this imposter get his hands on it, build a suit with it? He read Norman’s paper years ago, but the technology wasn’t this advanced.
Otto looks at the red plating over his actuators. Something is wrong.
Father, who is Karen? says Larry.
Father—! says Flo when the spider-child raises his arm and Flo mimics him.
“Integration: Complete,” says a cool female voice.
Father?
Harry's claws clack together with a motion from the imposter’s hands, like a child’s hand puppet, and then Otto is being dragged from under the bridge.
“What are you doing? Listen to me—Listen to me, not him—!” says Otto.
It’s a bombardment of apologies from his children, a litany of Sorry… Sorry… Sorry… as they are manipulated to drag the car back on to the bridge and carry the spider-child and Otto away.
Otto takes a swing at the boy when his feet on are solid ground, and it’s Moe that wraps around his torso, pinning his arms with a miserable, Sorry, Father… Otto is pinned to the ground, his children locking him in place with iron grips along the bridge.
Everything is wrong.
And then, there’s a familiar cackle in the air and an explosion in the distance. A green-suited figure in the sky, a familiar Glider in sight.
“Osborn?”
And the world is wrong again, disappearing in a fiery ring of orange as Otto is thrown for another loop.