Batman and Spider-Man

Chapter 3

Curt Connors woke up from the same dream that plagued him almost every night.

It was the day he lost his arm. He remembered the bombs and the screaming and the pain, the shrapnel tearing through his right arm like it a burning poison.

He jolted upwards, sweat drenching his body and for a brief moment feeling his arm on his side like a lingering phantom, feel his fingers running through the bedsheets. His alarm started to ring. Curt frowned, switching it off. He got out of his bed and headed to the shower. Curt walked through the wide passages of his house, going downstairs with photos hung on the wall. Photos of him in the military, photos he forgot to remove of him and Martha before the divorce and pictures of Billy Connors.

He made himself a cup of coffee and while he waited for it to cool down he went over to his mailbox and sorted through the mail.

Bills, mortgage payments, summons from Martha's lawyers and his discontinuation from the Wayne Veteran program. Curt sighed. Before, he used to be able to pay for anything. The benefits and coverage offered by the Veteran Program made him able to afford the bills and the lawyers after his divorce with Martha. Now, with Bruce Wayne nowhere to be seen since last year and Lucius Fox tied up with keeping the company afloat costs were being cut and an unfortunate side effect of that were the various funds and programs Bruce Wayne set up in Gotham biting the dust or being put under newer, more awful management.

What's more, funding was being cut from Wayne Inc projects that weren't electronics or weapons related leading to him slowly but surely losing funding for his project (and salary cuts). That lead to him turning to people like the Master Planner, people like Sawyer.

His phone rang. It was Martha. Curt picked up.

"Billy is coming over today," Martha said tersely, hanging up as soon as she started.

Curt sighed. How had this happened? When he got back home he expected to be embraced lovingly in Martha's arm. She was his rock, his guideline but when she saw his amputated arm she looked at him like everybody else did. She looked at him like she was a freak. Things were normal when he had but now that he lost it, he was seemingly lesser. All the love and tenderness disappeared, leaving him alone and bitter, with an arm that wasn't even his writing hand.

But the people that looked at him as if he was different he could handle. Let them be content in their close mindedness. It was the people who looked at him as if he was a thing to be pitied, as if he was only his amputated arm and not a brilliant scientist that enraged him. The ones who thought they were better than those that treated him like a freak because they were nicer. Being looked at with pity was an even worse punishment than losing his arm.

The last letter in his pile didn't have an address. Curt already knew who it was from.

Remember who's paying off the lawyers that let you see your son. We know what you did.

It was Sawyer. Curt crumpled up the paper and threw it in the bin. He slammed against his table, wanting nothing more than to get his arm around Sawyer's neck, wanting nothing more than his other arm back.

...

Peter stood in front of Barbara's room, dreading opening the door. The doctors said it was okay to visit but Peter wasn't sure if he wanted to. He muttered a prayer to himself and opened the door to see Barbara talking to her father with the smile he missed so much.

"I'll be fine, dad," Barbara said. "Stop worrying."

"If there's anything you..."

"I know dad," Barbara said, giving her dad a reassuring smile. "I know. You worry wayy too much."