Chapter Text
“I think this is something you’ll really like, Peter!” Otto Octavius said as he opened the doors into his laboratory in the labs set up by the Hardy Foundation, within that building’s sublevels.
Peter Parker’s eyes widened with glee as he saw the lab, including the containment unit for the cold fusion project.
“Otto, this is incredible!” Peter gaped, looking around, head moving as though he was trying to take in everything all at once. “You’re going to change the world!”
“That is the hope of any who pursue that elusive mistress known as science, my boy!” The portly man chuckled. “But come, let me show you something.”
“Something else?” Peter asked, surprised. When he glanced around, Peter jumped back as a metallic limb shot toward his left. Following the length of it, he found it ended at none other than Otto Octavius himself, and three other of these metallic limbs were seemingly coming from right out of the man’s back. “What are those?”
“A safety harness that I’ve developed for these experiments,” Otto said, one of the tentacles lifting and the claws at the end snapping open and shut, “as you know, radiation is not exactly safe to touch with the bare hand.”
“When it’s ionized, yes.” Peter said.
“Precisely,” Otto nodded, “and so, in order to make any necessary adjustments to the reactor core, I required the appropriate tools. As a craftsman cannot blame his tools, a scientist is only as good as his instruments he works with. Ingenuity is a blessing, but it can only take us so far on its own.”
“That’s amazing,” Peter said, walking around to get a full look at the device that Otto had constructed, “how does it work?”
“There is an ever-so-slight connection into my central nervous system through my spinal cord,” Otto explains, “with that, I can control them just as easily as I can my own limbs.” He demonstrated this by waving his right arm and the tentacle over his right shoulder in unison.
“That’s… incredible,” Peter said, watching the action, “and it’s all you doing it?”
“What do you mean?” Otto asked, his head tilting a bit.
“Well, I thought it might have been like… AI assist or something like that,” Peter said. Otto laughed heartily.
“Oh, no no, Peter!” Otto said once his laughter had died to a chuckle. “It’s a simple tool. No reason to use such advantaged technologies for it. The brainpower used to maneuver these is entirely my own.”
“I see, I see.” Peter nodded. “I can’t wait to see your experiment in action.”
“Ah, you’ll get the chance to do just that!” Otto said. “The day after tomorrow, we’ll be giving our first demonstration.”
“Already?” Peter asked, surprised. “Isn’t it a little soon?”
“Not at all,” Otto shook his head, “as they say in quantum mechanics, there’s no time like the present.”
Peter groaned even as he chuckled at how bad the pun was.
******
Peter was groaning for a very different reason later, lifting boxes from a moving truck and bringing them into May Parker’s house.
“C’mon, Pete! Only a few more boxes!” Theresa ‘Tessa’ Parker called from the chair she sat on.
“I swear, there’s more of these than there were when you first moved out!” Peter grumbled.
“You have super-strength, you’ll be fine.” Tessa teased.
“And you can’t help because…?” Peter asked.
“Uh, hello? Baby on board?” Tessa asked, pointing at her only slightly rounded stomach. It had been three months now since her discovery of her pregnancy, now at the tail end of the first trimester and heading on into the second.
“That kid better appreciate it,” Peter muttered.
“I’m sure she will,” Tessa said, gently patting her stomach.
“I thought the books all said we weren’t going to know the gender until the fourth month?” Peter asked. “Eighteen weeks in.”
“Call it Mother’s intuition,” Tessa said.
“Didn’t you have a goldfish die once because you forgot to feed it?” Peter teased.
“Yeah, when I was nine.” Tessa reminded her younger brother pointedly.
“Now, Peter, don’t put any more stress on Tessa than is absolutely necessary.” May said, coming back into the garage from the kitchen, handing Tessa a vitamin mix juice that the younger woman took with a grimace. “Important nutrients, dear.”
“I miss caffeine.” Tessa grumbled. Ever since she had decided to move back into May’s house… perhaps decided was a strong word, May had insisted upon it, Tessa had moved to a more healthy diet to help foster the life growing inside of her. Tessa had decided to bring the child to term, despite the circumstances that had led to their creation.
May had been surprisingly supportive, Peter had seen. However, the question that hung over all their heads was what Tessa would do once the baby was born. She had skillfully dodged the question, though every so often Peter would find her looking through baby clothes on Amazon.
If the newest Parker did remain in the family, as Peter hoped that they would, he wondered how they were eventually going to have to explain to them about their father.
‘How does one tell their niece or nephew that their father is locked up in an insane asylum?’ Peter thought. They’d been to see Eddie, of course, but he’d refused to see anyone - even Tessa. She said she had written him a letter telling him the news, but had received nothing in terms of a reply.
‘And it’s partially my fault,’ Peter frowned, remembering how the alien symbiote had come to him through those cracked meteors at Oscorp, how it had bonded to him and how he’d become a completely different person under its influence. He’d rejected it, and it had found its way to Eddie.
Eddie, who now knew everything about him.
But he hadn’t said anything. Or, at least if he had, nobody believed him.
‘At least that thing is trapped under all that concrete,’ Peter thought, remembering he’d been back to the construction site he’d stashed the symbiote in and the building had largely been built up around the solid support beam in the middle that he’d used the cement truck to fill up before it had been ready, ‘hopefully, it’ll die before it bothers anyone ever again…’
“Good morning, Parker family!” Mary Jane Watson strode over from Anna Watson’s yard, hands in the pockets of her jeans and the widest of smiles on her face.
“Oh, hey, MJ.” Peter said. He was definitely still stunned by the redheaded young woman, even if his love and loyalties were still very much with Gwen Stacy.
Seeing how moony Gwen had gotten over her made him feel a little less guilty about going ga-ga upon seeing her.
“Oh, hello, Mary Jane!” May said, giving the younger woman a smile. “What brings you over? I thought you’d moved out of Anna’s into the city?”
“Oh, I did,” MJ nodded, “just picking up a few leftover things from the move. Looks like you guys are moving in?”
“Well, I am, more specifically.” Tessa said, waving her hand. “Back in, that is. And hello, Mary Jane!”
“Hi, Tessa!” MJ waved. “Congratulations, by the way.” Tessa smiled, nodding her thanks, but there was a bit of an awkward silence that followed. “Anyway, do you guys need any help?” MJ asked, eager to sweep the tension away.
“An extra set of hands wouldn’t be turned away.” Peter said with a smile, then added teasingly. “You can make up for Tessa’s slack.”
“Watch it, Peter!” Tessa teased her younger brother right back.
******
May had made her way back into the kitchen, washing a dish as she listened to the somewhat distant sounds of Peter, Tessa, and now MJ conversing as Tessa’s belongings were unloaded from the moving truck. It brought her some measure of comfort, knowing it wasn’t just herself and Otto in the house now. True, Peter lived here, but her dear nephew could be such a ghost, especially lately with young Miss Stacy living on campus.
She hadn’t said anything, of course, but she’d begun to notice little things with Gwen over the past few months and indeed most recently. There had been a subtle shift in how she and Peter interacted, one that May knew well enough to know her nephew likely hadn’t noticed at all. She remembered Richard, knowing Parker men could indeed be quite clueless to what was right in front of them. Even so, May had seen no reason to intercede, nor felt she had the right. Peter was nearly twenty now, and at the age where one had to make the mistakes of youth in order to learn from them.
She had interceded on Tessa’s behalf and well, she had still ended up an unwed mother. Not that May looked down upon her for such, Tessa was going to get no judgment from her in that regard, though Tessa’s silence about the fate of the child after the birth did worry May quite a bit.
At times like these, she would have looked to Ben for solace and comfort. Otto was here now, of course, but that was not quite the same. Especially in the last few months, when Otto’s work had consumed a great deal of him. He had been so charming and personable in the earliest days of them dating, sweeping May off of her feet in a way that she hadn’t thought would be possible after Ben had passed. After nearly forty years of marriage to him, any other relationship had seemed absolutely unthinkable at best.
And then, Otto had come into her life.
She frowned, asking herself the hard questions once more. Did she love him? She had certainly thought she had, though she was beginning to second guess herself on that. Absence really didn’t make the heart grow fonder, as she had found as Otto had thrown himself into his work and the Hardy Foundation grant he had been given. It brought in money, certainly, but money wasn’t and never had been everything to May Parker.
She and Ben had almost always struggled to make ends meet, but he was certainly always present and engaging and-
‘Now May Parker, you stop that!’ She chided herself. Was this what she had been reduced to? Comparing Otto to her now-passed on husband? It was hardly fair at the best and plainly mean-spirited at the worst. She was tired, she realized. Helping Tessa move back in, helping to care for her while she was pregnant, it was all just hitting her a little hard.
She needed a break, needed some time to breathe. A thought popping into her head, she picked up the old rotary phone from its hook - one of many such relics of the analog age still present in the Parker household. Twirling the cord between her fingers, she dialed the number and listened.
“Hello, you’ve reached the Hardy Foundation. How may I direct your call?” The pleasant voice of the female operator on the other end spoke.
“The lab of Otto Octavius, please.” May said politely.
“Right away, Mrs. Parker!” The woman on the other end said, and May had to smile. She’d called enough that the people at the Foundation were starting to know her just from her voice. A few rings went through, and then-
“Hello?”
“Otto, it’s May.”
“May, my schatzi! How are you?! Is everything alright?” Otto’s voice sounded bright and warm like the first rays of the summer sun.
“Oh, everything’s fine, everything’s fine,” May lied, keeping it brief, “I was just wondering… with everything going on, perhaps we could go out for dinner tonight?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, love. Tonight will not work,” Otto said, “I’ll be out at the lab until late… we only have two days before the demonstration of the reactor.”
“Oh,” May said, trying not to sound as cold and dejected as she felt.
“But!” Otto quickly said. “I shall call now and make a reservation for two at Mastro’s for the night of the demonstration. We shall have to celebrate!”
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” May said, “a little expensive, though.”
“Only the best for you, my darling!” Otto said. “I’m afraid I must go, scientific progress is a relentless march!”
“Alright, Otto,” May said, “I love-”
She stopped, hearing the dial tone. After staring at the receiver for a moment, hearing the constant hum of the tone, she sighed as she hung it back up on the wall. Leaning against the sink, she took a deep breath. Then, she walked over to the cabinet, pulled out a tray and three glasses. Taking the pitcher from the refrigerator, she filled them all with lemonade before picking the tray up and taking it out to the garage.
By now, Peter and MJ had finished unpacking the truck and were now sitting and chatting with Tessa. May walked over with the tray of drinks.
“I thought you all might like some lemonade after such hard work,” May said, smiling as Peter approached, picking up a glass for himself and then handing one to MJ.
“Thank you, Mrs. Parker!” MJ said with a smile.
“Please, dear, call me May.” May said, before handing the other one over to Tessa.
“Even one for me?” Tessa asked, seemingly a little surprised by her aunt’s gift.
“Even one for you,” May agreed, nodding to her, “you’ve been doing very well on the new diet, and everyone deserves something a little sweet every now and again.”
“You’re a gem, Aunt May.” Peter said with a smile.
“And don’t you forget it, Mr. Parker!” May chuckled, her nephew’s bright smile quite infectious to her.
******
“What do you see?” The voice on the other end of the communicator asked.
“Nothing of note. They appear to be moving the older sister back into the house,” He reported in, “it appears she’s pregnant, at least three months. Perhaps more.”
“How interesting, the Parkers continuing their line at a time like this…”
“Their numbers are irrelevant, Whelan. If the information bundle gets through to them, then I’ll have a job to do. End of story.” He said, gazing through the binoculars. They seemed the perfect model of domestic bliss. The three Parkers and their neighbor, the one their reports identified as a “Mary Jane Watson”. They were not aware of the single car with tinted windows parked across the street from their home and, if they were, they weren’t giving him any attention whatsoever. Of course, he was rather good at blending in.
A Chameleon was often known for that…
“Baron Strucker has ordered me to remind you that we spent quite a bit of money getting you out of Rikers, Smerdyakov. Please demonstrate that it was not a wasted effort.”
“I have never disappointed an employer before,” The Chameleon said, lowering the binoculars, “and I do not intend to start now.”
“Very good. Hail Hydra!” Without waiting for a response, Whelan closed the channel. In the form of a nondescript middle-aged man in a suit, Chameleon set down the communicator and binoculars, turned the key in the ignition of his car, and drove off casually from the Parker household.
******
“Please, make sure they have the car brought around.” Jason Phillip Macendale said as he tapped out a few of the selections on the datapad that his assistant had handed him.
“At once, Mr. Macendale,” The young lady cooed, taking the datapad back from him and going to carry out his orders. The man smiled as he watched her leave with a lecherous eye, and then spun around in his chair to face the glass wall of his office. The view over Manhattan, in particular the Hardy Foundation’s Headquarters towering toward the sky, was a pristine pillar that scraped the sky.
‘Another castle that will one day belong to the Hobgoblin…’ He thought, his dreams of future glories cut off by the ringing of his phone. Reaching over to the receiver, he caught the flickering light. His phone had four separate lines to it, but only the bottom one was the direct line and only a handful of people in the entire world knew what it was.
Sure enough, that was the light that was flashing. Pressing the button, he picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Hobgoblin,” The distorted, electronic voice of the Big Man flowed from the receiver, “are you ready to get some business done?”
“What exactly did you have in mind?” Macendale purred as his curiosity was indeed piqued. Ever since giving him the new visage of the Hobgoblin, the Big Man had been rather mum on the subject of any dirty work. Following that showing he’d gotten from who he now knew to be Eddie Brock, Macendale hadn’t complained. Now, though…now, they were getting somewhere.
“The Hardy Foundation is going to be having a demonstration of a new cold fusion reactor,” The Big Man said, “it would be a shame if someone came along and took the power core out of it, wouldn’t it?”
“That it would,” Macendale said, his eyes narrowing toward the receiver, “but how would I achieve such a feat? Radiation isn’t exactly known for being safe to touch, Big Man.”
“No, but I have something for our mutual friend that will solve that problem,” The Big Man said, “come to Pier 14, 11:30 P.M. sharp. Don’t be late.” Without another word, the line went dead. Macendale thought this over, setting the receiver down and walking over to his glass case where his awards and accommodations had been placed as decoration. They were trophies and reminders of days gone by, when he’d been so much more… and so much less than he was now. Seeing his bronze Intelligence Commendation Medal, he pressed the palm of his hand against it and it sank into the wall. The case and the entire wall behind it slid down into the floor and revealed a room within.
His glider and its backup hung up on supports, and the almost completely new suit of the Hobgoblin sat in a glass case, waiting to be put on as if he were reattaching a lost limb at long, long last. He gazed upon the visage of the Hobgoblin mask, such a step up from the Jack O’Lantern suit. The old pumpkinhead attire had been for practicality, the Hobgoblin suit was all about intimidation.
And Macendale did so love to be intimidating.
When the time came, he donned his costume, draping the cloak and cowl over his head and taking to one of the gliders, rising up into the air until a hatch in the ceiling opened to allow him out. Flying through the air at breakneck speed, no red and blue little menace showed up to stop him tonight as he made his way to the pier that the Big Man had spoken over. As he drew new, the skylight of one warehouse swung inward.
“Always lovely to have a welcome reception!” He chortled as he descended down into it, finding the warehouse filled to the brim with crates. “Oh, Big Man! I’m here! Eleven-thirty sharp as we agreed!”
“You are nothing if not punctual, my Hobgoblin.” The Big Man’s voice was projected through unseen speakers. “I have a gift for you…” An overhead light lit up, spotlighting a single crate that had been set in the center of the room, upon which had been left three items - two heavy duty gloves and a large, black box.
“I guess black is the new black this season, eh?” Macendale chuckled as he approached, picking up the gloves first.
“You will find them an adequate replacement for your current gauntlets,” The Big Man said, “they are able to channel electricity and can withstand the destructive power of the radioactive isotope as well as protect you from its effects. The box is made of reinforced vibranium lined with lead, the perfect containment unit for the device in question.”
“Vibranium? That must have cost you a pretty penny.” Macendale had to admit, he was impressed.
“You’ll find that very little is beyond my resources, my Hobgoblin. You have your assignment and you have an entire day to prepare. I suggest you do so.”
“You’ve got it, boss!” Macendale chuckled, taking the gloves and the box before flying back up through the skylight once more.