Orphic | Spider-Man

SEVENTEEN

A WEEK HAD nearly gone by, and Octavia heard no word from Spider-Man. 
      There were no robberies or break-ins, or cars going rampant on the highways for him to save, but she hoped that one night soon she'd look over at her bedroom window and see the red mask with big bulgy white lenses in her window. An odd hope definitely, but she was getting worried that Spider-Man didn't think she could handle being a superhero. Or maybe that was Octavia's own worrisome thoughts. 

      She sat on her bed, holding a book of poems and poetic quotes that she had received as a birthday present from Otto, and though the book was open, her eyes were set on her window. She wore the waistband over an old t-shirt she had, while her legs were strewn in front of her, hidden under pink pajama pants. Her back was resting against her pillows, but Meg, Joe, Beth and Amy all curled out, staring at the window with her. 
      "Are you guys worrying because I'm worrying?" she softly asked. "Because I'm sure you guys react to how I feel." 
      "They seem to." came a voice. 
      Otto was at her doorway, dressed to his most comfortable in a red turtleneck and gray sweatpants. 
      Octavia chuckled at his outfit, the tentacles whirring and spinning like they were giggling. "Nice outfit." 
      Otto chuckled, then narrowed his eyes at her outfit. "Yours as well."  
      It was Friday night, and Octavia was dressed in high raised black jeans, a black turtleneck with no sleeves, and her favorite black boots. 
      Octavia giggled as Otto stepped more into the room. "What are you reading?" he asked. 
      Octavia looked down at the poetry book. "That book you gave me," she said, flashing Otto the cover. 
      "Ah," he nodded, a small smile crossing his face. "Which poem are you reading?" 
      Octavia looked down at the right page and answered, "Something poetic that T.S. Eliot said." 
      "And what is that something poetic he said?" 
      Octavia stared down at the poem. "'Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future--" 
      "--contained in time past.'" Otto said with her, chuckling as he sat down on the edge of her bed, next to her legs. "That was your mother's favorite." 

      Octavia made a face. "Really? Because I don't know what he means." 
      "Neither do I!" Otto beamed. "Granted, I was always more into science." 
      "But I'm into literature and I'm not sure what Eliot is trying to convey." Octavia giggled. 
      Otto laughed, his eyes looking to the floor, his hands out in front of him. He always began talking with his hands when he was passionate about something, like science. 
      "Your mother always tried to explain it to me, while I tried to explain the Theory or Relativity. I met her on the steps of college. And I could already picture a perfect life with her." Otto chuckled softly as Octavia's smile shook. Otto would talk about Octavia's mother, but it came in small bits and pieces, but when he spoke of her with a certain gleam in his eye, Octavia couldn't help but feel tight in her chest. Loving someone so much that they were lost to your own actions. Octavia only knew that it her mother had died during a lab accident for one of Otto's inventions, but what it was, she didn't know. She didn't want to know. 
      "I was so glad when you told me you wanted to be an author, write books and learn about literature. Your mother would be so proud of you." Otto said, looking at his daughter. 
      Octavia smiled back at him. "Of course she would." she said. "Because I'm not a big nerd like you." 
      Otto rolled his eyes and smiled as Octavia laughed. "I'm kidding!" 
      Her father chuckled, "Actually, Rosie would say the same thing!" 
      The two laughed and cackled until Otto stood up form the edge of Octavia's bed. "Oh darling, I think it's time for me to go to bed." He was at her doorway when he turned back around. "If you'd like to know, and you can tell me to never talk about it again, but I just thought. . .I thought you'd like to know that I'm on my way to making something a little more suitable for your needs." 

      Octavia froze. She felt the fear creep into her throat. He's going to play God again, she thought. He's going to turn you into a lab rat. You'll be fixed again, in his way and with what he wants. 
      Her smiled became a tight-lipped one. She nodded. "That's. . .cool." she said. "But I want to look at it before anyone else makes a decision for me." 
      And just like that, the energy of the two was killed. The air was the only thing that made any noise. 
      Octavia watched Otto's eyes look to the floor for a reply before he sucked in a breath and nodded. "Of course, of course. . ." he said softly. "All decisions will be up to you." Then he pulled a sad small smile on his face. "Goodnight, darling." 
      "Goodnight, Dad." she said, her whole body growing cold as Otto closed the door behind him. 
      The tentacles looked at Octavia, all tilting their closed claws. 
      "I can't be a test subject again." she whispered, feeling herself shake and shiver as a lump formed in her throat. 
      As she stared at the door, there was a knock at her window. Octavia jumped as the tentacles opened to their claws, Meg shooting the sharp blade out from the middle of her claw. 
      Octavia stared at the face in her window, who was now waving at her, and she sighed in relief with the tentacles as she realized it was just her friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. 
      Beth curled over to the window, unlocking and pushing it open for Spider-Man. 
      "Hello Octavia," Spider-Man greeted softly, crawling into her room and along her walls. 
      "Hi Spidey," she replied as Beth came back so she and Amy could move Octavia off her bed. "Um. . .you weren't listening to my conversation, were you?" 
      Spider-Man turned his head to Octavia as he crawled along the wall closest to her bedroom door. 
      "What conversation?" he asked. 
      Octavia shook her head. "Never mind. My dad was here before you came over. Great timing. However, I do have to ask you about ways to communicate with you, because I won't have you showing up whenever." 
      Spider-Man touched a hand to her ceiling and let his legs dangle underneath him. 
      "You're very straightforward. I like that." Spider-Man chuckled. "I think I have the solution." 

      He dropped from the ceiling, stuck his hand in a pocket on his suit and then pulled out something small and rectangular with a little screen on the front and a clip on the back. It was plastic and colored black. 
      "Is. . .is this a pager?" Octavia asked him. 
      "It is!" Spider-Man put his hands on his hips. "I actually have a few of those hanging around my spider web." 
      Octavia stared at Spider-Man, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, you're what?" 
      Spider-Man nervously chuckled, "Guess I shouldn't call my secret lair my 'spider web', huh?" 
      Octavia laughed, "Absolutely not." Her eyes then roamed over Spider-Man's suit. It was flashy, bright red and blue, Octavia thought she even saw some sparkle in the blue fabric, and the seams looked a little awkward, definitely like someone had used a sewing machine for the first time. 
      "What's wrong?" Spider-Man asked, looking around. "Do I have something on my suit?" 
      "No." Octavia replied. "But I'm thinking about your suit." The tentacles moved her closer to Spider-Man. "Did you make that yourself?" 
      Spider-Man went quiet for a moment. "Does it look that bad?" 
      "No, but now I'm thinking what my suit would look like." Octavia held her chin in her hand and tilted her head in thought. "Personally, I like how I dress anyways, but if we're going to have to be stealthy some nights, I'm thinking something all black." 
      "Well, better put something together the next time I need you. I'm thinking of scoping out a place I know where the Mambas will strike next. You in?" Spider-Man asked. 
      "Of course I'm in!" Octavia smiled. 

      "Good." his tone was a little hard. "But if you get hurt again, you're staying back and I'm only giving you updates." 
      "You seem to forget that I saved your ass last week while you were the one held hostage. I took out five men and stuck Laney in the cop car--all while barefoot and with no bra." Octavia retorted. 
      "Okay," Spider-Man clapped his hand. "Didn't need to know that last part. The 'no bra' thing--" 
      "I like seeing you be awkward more than suave." Octavia smiled. "You remind me a lot about my best friend, you know." 
      Spider-Man tilted his head dearly. "He must be one very handsome guy." 
      Octavia giggled, "He is, actually. Which is a big step from you since I don't even know what you look like behind that mask." 
      Under the mask, Peter's face was bright pink. "I--wha-wha-you. . .you think he's handsome?" 
      Octavia narrowed her eyes at Spider-Man as a smirk grew on her lips. "Are you jealous, Spidey?" 
      Spider-Man cleared his throat. "Jealous? Me?" he then chuckled, "No, no, no, Spider-Man doesn't get jealous." He then scratched the back of his head. "Listen, I've gotta get going, but I'll give you an hour notice before meeting somewhere, okay?" 
      Octavia nodded. "Got ya, Spidey." 
      Spider-Man nodded, moving back to her window, sticking to her wall to get up to the window frame. "Alright then, goodnight, Octavia." 
     "Goodnight, Spider-Man." 

      When Peter swung away from Octavia's penthouse, he flipped high in the air over Manhattan, shouting for joy. 
      "WOOOO-HOOOOOO!" He cried over the sound of traffic in the night. "SHE THINKS I'M HANDSOME! WOOOOO-HOOOOO!" 
      His cries for joy echoed around Manhattan, and following him all the way back to Queens.