"Caught in the Web of the Spider."

Otto looked like he was doing just that, and winning. I looked up, "I'm sorry Peter...it's not your fault...you saved her. Thank you."

I sighed, "it's okay," I looked over my shoulder, Bobbi was surprised to say the least. She looked at me, I motioned her to move back. I turned to Otto, "we need to get those arms off you as soon as Possible Otto. The chip in your spine that helped you control them is gone, your mind is open for attack."

"Yes...yes, I need help," his arm began to move again, "but not before I kill the man who did this to me! Norman Osborn will die!"

"Otto no!" I cried out, "please, you'll get justice I promise you, but not this way! People will get hurt, please just-"

"-No! What kind of man would I be if I didn't avenge my wife's killer with my own hands?! Osborn will die!"

"Rosey isn't dead! She is right there!" I pointed at her, "and if you do this, you will spend the rest of your life as a criminal. And when Rosey wakes up and opened her eyes I don't want the first thing she sees to be an empty room! She need you Otto! Now!"

Otto growled, his arms were raised into the air, "you talk too much boy. You presume too much! I will have my revenge and protect my wife! I will do it! And there is no one to stop me!"

"Stop!" Bobbi cried out as she fired at him.

Otto blocked the bullet with his arms before lunging out at her. "No!" I drew my gun at pointed at him. His eyes winded as I pulled the trigger and an EMP pellet hit him right in the chest, shutting down his arms immediately.

Otto feel to his knees, his body not able to hold onto the weight of his fully extended metallic arms. I looked up at me, his eyes slowly clearing up, "Peter? How?"

"EMP gun," I smiled, "are the arm's AI voices gone?"

He nodded, "yes...yes…." he looked down at his arms, "oh my God. What have I done?!"

"It's not your fault Otto," I kneeled down before him, "you were sick."

He looked up, I saw fury in his eyes, "Osborn, he did this to me!" 'No, please no!' "I'll have his head!"

Zip!

"No!"

A stun gun went off I jumped aside as Bobbi fired it at Otto electrocuting him unconscious. He hit the floor, I turned to her and shook my head, "are you a moron? Or did SHIELD like decided to pull a fast one on me?"

"He was going to go crazy again," she told me.

"The arms were turned off," I sighed as I got back up, "what you saw was the face of a man whose wife was in a coma and his spine was permanently fused with four metal arms. He's allowed to be a little angry. Seriously, I'm this close to calling Fury on you."

"Okay, seriously, who the hell are you?!" Bobby asked.

"You didn't ask Fury?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He called you a pain in the ass."

I smirked, "well, he's not wrong."

Next week:

Otto was taken to jail. I told Fury that he needed help, not lock up, but the man didn't listen to me. They managed to remove his arms and store them apparently secure enough, but I'm sure he would be back. Otto's too smart not too.

Bobbi didn't get into trouble apparently she followed procedure exactly. I didn't really have a problem with that, if they want to treat metahumans like they were just humans who am I to blame?

Either way, I was done. One little mission, that's all I allowed myself. And now I'm done. I told myself that...but every time I turned on the NEWS I felt my iron clad will crumble.

The names of the ten people Ock killed was released. Ten people whose lives I could have saved, ten people who would be with their families for the holidays if I had just worn the suit.

Ten people...damn it all to hell.

I blamed myself, though I knew I wasn't really to blame. It was Osborn's fault, it was all his fault. And the media thought so too.

When they found about Otto and his story they went on a witch hunt. They made Otto seem like a victim, which he was, and put all the blame on Norman's head. All of it. The man now faced murder charges. They wouldn't stick in court though, I know it.

I sat in my bed, my mind spinning t a hundred miles per hour. I didn't understand what I needed to do, what I wanted to do. I didn't want to die, but I knew thanks to Logan's blood I can't.

And so I asked myself, 'what should I do now?' And I didn't have an answer.

I need help, I need to talk to someone, figure out what's going on in my head. What I'm supposed to be. I need a psychiatrist. And I also need to get away from here, from all of...this.

I picked up the phone and dialed a number I learnt long ago. The man on the other side picked it, in a calming voice he spoke, "hello?"

"Professor," I sighed, "it's me. Peter. I need to talk...I need help."

The man sighed, "my doors are always open to you Peter. Please, come whenever you wish."

"Thanks professor X, I appreciate this," I hanged up and looked around. I need to lie to May and Ben, tell them I'm doing something else. Whatever, I'm sure I'll think of something. I already have a plan lined up. This weekend, I'll visit them all this weekend.

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