Orphic | Spider-Man

NINE

SHE COULD HEAR some things when she woke up, but anesthesia was running through her veins like blood. Her world was still blurry, and a part of her was still looking for stars. But she could hear and partially understand. 

      ". . .the bullet was lodged in her spine. . .T-12. . ."
      The doctor and Otto were blurry and spinning, focusing in and out. 

      ". . .is she okay. . ."
      It was Otto, sounding defeated.

 
      There was silence, and Otto beginning to ask many questions that didn't just worry the doctor, but Octavia too. She heard her father ask if she was okay, and what the doctor wasn't telling him. 

      ". . .walking. . .most patients succeed. . .however, the bullet severed. . .nerves in her spine--" 

      ". . .no chance?" 

      A pause. A sob. 

      ". . .sorry, Doctor Octavius--" 

      "Nothing?" Otto had asked. ". . .nothing?"
      He sounded angry. 

      "Too many nerves. . .severed. . .did all we can. . .can give you something. . .wheelchairs, no crutches. . ." 

      ". . .miserable!" Otto sobbed. "She'll be miserable!" 

      "It takes time. . .she'll have depression, but support. . .friends and family--" 

      "No!" Otto had snapped. "I know my daughter. . .can't stand to see her like that. . ." 

      "Doctor Octavius. . .no other way. . ." 

      Octavia couldn't stay awake, but she wanted to--she so badly wanted to. But the hospital ceiling started to become Starry Night. And the last thing she heard, the last thing before she blacked out again, was Otto's voice. There was a tone in his voice that she had heard many times before when he was at the penthouse, working late into the night, when an idea had finally hit him. 

      "There's always another way. . .I know another way. . ."

- - -

Octavia's brain was as swollen as a water balloon. Her neck was stiffer than a board, heavy like cement. Her shoulder blades felt like they'd been stab a million times over. Every muscle in her back was pulled tight, and when she moved it was the most painful thing she'd ever felt. And her spine. . .
      . . .didn't feel right.
      Her stomach warped inside itself. The food and drinks she had at the banquet were fighting with each other. Her mouth watered like a pool in an instant.
      There were sounds, metal clanking. . .robotic whizzes. . .whirs. . .clicks. . .
      It was like she was back in her father's lab again as a child, but where was she now? The last thing she remembered was the banquet, gunshots, whiskey, and a face. . .
      . . .Spider-Man.
      Where was she now? Why did her whole body hurt? Why did her back feel like it had been ripped open? Why did it feel like someone had sucker-punched her brain over and over again?
      Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. She woke up panicking, but it wasn't how she normally panicked.
      It took a few tries, but when her voice worked, she groaned, feeling sick to her stomach. Her brain was so swollen she couldn't form words. It felt like a dream where she couldn't speak, and those were the ones she hated the most. Her eyes felt like bricks trying to open them, and when she did, there was no Starry Night, but gray matter. Flooring. The metal whirs and clicks continued, slowly. Her stomach rumbled, and not in a good way. Drool spilled from her chapped lips, dripping down her chin and onto the floor. She groaned again, trying to scream, trying to speak. Then she heard the voices. Far away at first, echoing, then nearly screaming in her ear--at least, that's what it sounded like.
      "Octavia," it was Otto. "Darling, can you hear me? Can you speak?"
      Octavia slowly closed her lips, swallowed the lake of saliva in her mouth, parted her lips, then retched and vomited onto the floor.
      She groaned, spitting the rest of it out of her mouth. "Dad. . .I threw up. . ."
      "It's alright, darling, it's okay," Otto cooed. "How are you feeling?"