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After his experiment had gone awry, Otto Octavius could think about nothing other than what could have possibly caused such an abysmal failure. He pored over his notes and triple-checked his equations until he found the culprit. From there, he was able to account for the mistake and design a better way to harness the power of tritium in order to bring renewable energy to all mankind. The work took up all of his days and most of his nights. He thought about nothing else. He didn’t dare allow himself to think about anything other than his work because if he did, his mind would undoubtedly wander to her...
He made sure that his thoughts were constantly preoccupied with science. So much so that it wasn’t until a few weeks after the accident that Otto had realized he didn’t feel like himself. And it wasn’t because of the sentient actuators that had become fused to him- Otto had gotten used to them rather quickly. It was something else entirely.
He just felt wrong.
Otto had written off his lethargy as an obvious consequence of his long nights working and getting even fewer hours of sleep than usual. But after a while, even doing his work had become too arduous for him. Still, he ignored the exhaustion. Likewise, he had written off his mood swings and irritability as a side effect of the actuators and their vile thoughts swirling inside his mind in addition to his own miserable thoughts. After all, didn’t he have a right to be angry after his life’s work had failed horribly and his own wife had died as a result of it? Otto had a rational reason to be irritable. That much he knew.
But there was something else. Something he couldn’t explain away, no matter how hard he tried. It was an old feeling he hadn’t been acquainted with for many years, at least not to such a high degree. It was the odd sensation of his body being stuck in some kind of in-between state- half in reality and half in his mind. It was the desire to crawl out of his skin and hide in a tiny shell like a hermit crab. It was the feeling of being a stranger in his own body.
As soon as he recognized the feeling, he chastised himself for forgetting about something so important. Maybe he needed to slow down, allow himself to think about something other than the work for even a few minutes because there was never a time in his life where he could have ever forgotten to take his testosterone injection on Mondays. Certainly not four weeks in a row.
---*---
Otto figured that the best way to get his testosterone was to simply go to his pharmacy. But obviously, he was a wanted criminal now and had to go about getting his prescription the hard way. He broke in at night. The blaring alarms and the red flashing lights went off every time but he was in and out so quickly it didn’t bother him too much. He never tried to leave the place in ruins, always attempted to get into the pharmacy without shattering too many windows. Never stealing any more than he needed.
The truth is, Otto had been going to that pharmacy for over a decade. He knew the pharmacist fairly well- they always used to have quick chats about some news in the world of science whenever he came in for his monthly prescription. The pharmacist had always been a nice guy, and Otto didn’t want to put him through too much trouble.
Apparently, the papers had gotten wind of his criminal activity. Some journalist must have found the police reports because The Daily Bugle printed a story with the headline ‘DOC OCK TRANS?’ right on the front page. The picture that accompanied it was blurry black and white CCTV footage of Otto walking out of the pharmacy with a vial of testosterone in the palm of his hand. So, Otto had finally been outed. He didn’t really care at that point. He had bigger things to worry about. The only reason he wasn’t out before was because he was afraid that, somehow, his transness might lead to his research not getting funded or not getting taken seriously due to possible prejudice. But now he didn’t have to agonize over those concerns. He didn’t give a fuck about what people thought of him anymore.
Shortly after the third time that Otto had broken into the pharmacy for his testosterone, he got a voicemail from his pharmacist.
Otto listened to the message.
“Hi Otto, this is Dave from Friedmann Drug. Umm. It’s no secret that you’ve been coming into the pharmacy after hours to pick up your testosterone. Look, I can’t keep having these break-ins. I know you do it at night when no one’s around but it still hasn’t been great for business.”
Otto heard the man sigh deeply before continuing.
“I shouldn’t be doing this. I mean I could lose my license but uh... Meet me in the alleyway between Neil’s Deli and that tax office on 66th and 3rd at midnight next Thursday. I’ll give you next month’s supply of testosterone... See you then.”
Otto was a bit wary, in all honesty. He didn’t completely understand why Dave would be willing to meet up with him anywhere, especially at night. Surely, he’d watched the news and read the papers about the terrifying Doctor Octopus in the last few months. Otto figured it might be some kind of set-up. That he would be lured into a trap teeming with police. But he’d known Dave well enough for years and he didn’t seem like the type of person to cooperate with cops on such a grand scale. Otto figured he would just have to go and find out.
He was careful when he got to the designated alley that Dave had mentioned, scoping it out from the rooftop. It didn’t seem like there was anything fishy going on. Otto watched for a few minutes as Dave paced up and down the alleyway, checking his watch every half minute or so. Eventually, he decided it was unlikely that there was any funny business going on and climbed down the wall.
Dave must have heard the noise of Otto’s actuators setting him on the ground because he turned around. He looked shocked at the sight in front of him. “Otto.”
“Dave.” Otto didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t the situation he was used to being in with his pharmacist. He didn’t think it was an appropriate time to talk to the man about recent advancements in robotics like he normally would’ve.
Dave held out his hand, “Here’s your testosterone.”
Otto walked closer to him. He was surprised when Dave didn’t flinch or falter. Everyone else did. He grabbed it from his hand, “Thanks.”
Dave nodded, not even attempting to hide his curiosity as he examined the four large actuators attached to Otto’s body.
Otto didn’t appreciate the scrutiny. He broke the silence, “Why are you doing this for me?”
“I told you. I’ve been losing customers. People are afraid to use the pharmacy that ‘Doc Ock’ breaks into every month.”
“So your solution is to become an accessory to my crime?”
Dave chuckled, “I guess so.” He paused for a moment and furrowed his brow before continuing, “Otto, I don’t know what happened to you. But you’ve been coming to my shop for over ten years and we’ve gotten along. I always try to have a conversation with you whenever you pick up your prescription. That’s more than I can say for a majority of my other customers... You’re a nice guy, and I wouldn’t want to see you going without your hormones or breaking into some other pharmacy to get them.”
Otto looked away from the sincerity of Dave’s gaze at some point during the speech. He couldn’t bear to see someone be so compassionate towards him. He just wasn’t used to it anymore. Honestly, he didn’t know if he deserved it either.
“We’ll meet here at midnight monthly. The first Thursday of the month. How does that sound?”
Dave’s voice roused Otto from his spiraling thoughts. He looked back up, “That should work out fine... But do you really want to do this every month? You could just give me a year’s supply if that’s easier.”
“I thought about that but it would be way too suspicious. Sure, I own the place but I still have the state looking over my shoulder. If they notice all that testosterone had gone missing from my inventory, they would know something was up. It’s much easier to write off one vial every now and then.”
“Right, of course. That makes sense.” Otto had never been much for thinking about the long-standing consequences of seemingly simple actions. And look where that got him.
“Can I ask a question?”
Otto frowned, wary of where the conversation might be headed. Still, he owed Dave answers, even if he decided not to tell the complete truth after hearing the question. “Go ahead.”
“You could have easily taken all of the vials of testosterone we had in stock those three times you broke in. Why did you only take one at a time?”
Otto laughed, thankful that the question had such an easy answer. “Because I knew that other people had to pick up their testosterone too, and I didn’t want to make their lives harder by hoarding all of it for myself.”
“Huh.” Dave smirked slightly, “Guess there still is some good in you after all, Doc Ock.” He said the moniker with a snicker.
Otto smiled, “See you here next month.” He looked into Dave’s eyes, trying his hardest to convey his sincerity, “I appreciate what you’re doing for me.”
“Hey, even supervillains deserve access to gender-affirming treatment.”
Otto laughed as his actuators latched onto the building and carried him back home.
---*---
Otto always made sure to remember his meet-ups with Dave every month. After a while, he even became excited for them. The meetings were the only time he ever got real social interaction from a regular person. In a way, their time together helped Otto remember his own humanity. It helped him from falling into great depths of self-loathing, from thinking about himself as if he’s some horrible monster like the papers said he was.
Otto found a sort of solace in Dave. He didn’t presume anything about Otto’s life or his motivations. He was just there for him, as a listening ear or as a person to bounce ideas off of. As a friend.
Eventually, their meetings became longer and longer which more or less forced them to find better, less sketchy places to meet and catch up. Sometimes they’d go to dingy diners and Otto would try his best to hide the actuators under a long trench coat. Sometimes they would walk around the park, staying in the shadows. Otto felt that Dave enjoyed their time together, too. He must have- to go to all that trouble for him and to talk to Otto for an hour when he could easily just hand him the vial then leave.
Otto really believed that they had moved from cordial acquaintances to genuine friends and he was incredibly grateful. He needed that anchor to the real world to keep him focused on what was truly important.
He didn’t know if he would ever figure out why Dave seemed to like being his friend. But ultimately, it didn’t matter to Otto. He didn’t need an explanation. The warmth and the sincerity of their friendship was enough for him.