Orphic | Spider-Man

TEN

SIX MONTHS LATER. . . 

      Octavia had to keep the back of her head shaved, just in case the microchip failed and fried her nervous system. Though she didn't like having a single patch of buzz-cut hair on the base of her head, so she shaved the whole underside of her head. It worked out nicely, as her long hair covered it when it was down, and then when she pulled it up, she had a cool hairstyle. But no one was ever going to see it. Octavia wouldn't allow herself to be in public.

      Over six months, Otto tried to get his daughter to get back out in the world. He tried hard to get her to leave the penthouse numerous times, starting with small stuff like getting the mail, but Octavia didn't budge. Sometimes, Otto never saw her leave her bedroom. He was thankful that she was eating, since he'd leave lunch or dinner outside her bedroom door when she felt worse than normal to stay cooped up in her room while he went to work, but felt relieved to see that she had eaten everything on her plate. Some days were hard when there were only a few bites from the sandwiches he'd bring her from the deli, and when he'd knock on her door, there'd be no reply. But he didn't suspect the worst, he was able to track her vitals and movements from the microchip in her head. Through all of that, he couldn't get his daughter back.

      Octavia hadn't talk to him like she used to in months. When Otto would come home from work, she be there, eyes sparkling and smile wide as she had a full day to explain. Octavia would even randomly blurt out a question or something on her mind when she was in the kitchen or when they both sat on the couch watching TV. But when Otto was able to pull her out of her room, or she had wandered out the same time he had arrived home, he told her to stay for an hour. That was the silent deal they had made with each other.
      And how horribly, excruciating that deal was.

      Octavia's green eyes had lost the light that had made them so bright. She was paler now, and her dark chocolate hair nearly looked as dark as Otto's--maybe even a little darker. She never smiled anymore. Never smiled at Otto, or even when she looked at herself in the mirror. She had to remember to shower some days, brushing her hair and teeth, and wearing different clothes. She mostly wore sweatpants, crewnecks and pajama bottoms. She had always looked better in darker colors, but for the past six months, Octavia had become engulfed in darkness. She wasn't Octavia Octavius as everyone else knew her, though, hiding away for six months, most people thought she had died that night of the banquet, or vanished. Some of her classmates in Manhattan had started a rumor that Otto moved her out of the country, put her in a place that wasn't as big of a threat as New York. But she had went online for school.
      In terms of friends, after the accident, Octavia cut off every tie to every person she knew. Every last one of them. Even Peter Parker. She didn't want to be seen by them, especially Peter. She stopped using her phone for weeks, a month or two at best before the texts, calls, and FaceTimes were ignored. To the people who actually stopped by their penthouse, Octavia would tell them that she wasn't feeling good today, and she'd make Otto tell them the same thing. The only person who had stopped by even after everyone else, even Peter, got the message, was May Parker. Aunt May. Out of all the people who would question if Octavia was sure she didn't want to see them, May understood. She knew nothing, but she knew Octavia. And when Octavia kindly told her to leave through the door while on the brink of tears, May listened.
      "Okay," she would say. "I'll catch you later, sweetheart."
      And on the other side of the door, Octavia would hear May drop a dish of sweets or a dinner that she had made that she knew was Octavia's favorite, and would leave. Not even Peter stayed around as long as Aunt May did, and she tried for four months. Octavia missed hearing May's voice. Her soft, motherly-like tone even though she really wasn't a mother, the smile that could warm anyone's heart, the way she could never get angry at someone, like how she never got upset that she never saw Octavia. Octavia wondered if Peter hated her for letting him go. The last time they had talked was after the accident, through the front door of the penthouse when Peter really wanted to see her. Octavia still remembered what she had yelled through the wood to make him go away.
      Her best friend--nearly the only one--gone. And it was all her fault.