To Make a Concubine

Otto guided her into the kitchen. He couldn't see the others, but he could hear indistinct voices from the room Peter was being kept inside. Otto went to the huge refrigerator and opened it with one actuator, using the others to fish around in its depths. He'd never seen so much junk food in his life. Finally, he pulled out a slice of leftover pizza and took a bite of it as he continued to search. "Are you sure you don't want anything, my dear?"

"Not hungry," she started to say, avoiding the stretch of counter where he had raped her earlier, but she was interrupted by a sharp voice from the other room.

"Otto? Are you coming back?"

'Are you coming back?' Otto mouthed mockingly as he walked over to the door. Really, what did Norman want with him there, anyway? Something to do with the crazy, and rather creepy, idea that they were Spider-Man's parents? When he opened the door and saw all three of them, he didn't go inside, and kept Ginny behind him. He took another bite of pizza but didn't say anything, wondering what Osborn wanted but not asking.

Osborn gestured him inside peremptorily. Flint and Max both shot him glares, and Ginny tried to conceal herself behind him. "Bring her in, if you must," Norman snapped.

Still against the wall was Peter, looking defeated and bewildered.

Not wanting to undermine Norman's authority too much in front of Peter, Otto obeyed with only a split second of contemplation. Ginny wouldn't want to be in there, but it was obvious she couldn't be left alone. Otto watched Peter curiously, but took up a spot a bit away from the others. He kept her behind him, with one of his tentacles curled protectively around her.

Norman shot her a look, flicking his eyes to Octavius in a way that meant they would speak later before turning his attention back to Peter. "My boy, you know you don't have a choice. Side against us, and your loved ones will die, and Fury will still lie to you, still treat you like a puppet. Come with us, and you'll make history." There was a mad gleam in his eye.

Parker shook his head. "I can't...."

"You can," Otto spoke up. "You just don't want to." His free tentacles twitched restlessly, annoyed that they were denied slaughtering the other two and wanting to take it out on anybody or anything. "Is preserving your socially constructed morality worth the lives of the two most important people in your life? And I'd hardly believe you've never bent the rules for your own supposedly heroic ends before..."

Peter stared up at him, still looking stunned. He didn't even see Ginny, but she saw him. She couldn't resist peering around Octavius at the unmasked hero. And another part of her snapped when she saw something in his face crumble. If they could defeat Spider-Man, then she had no chance. None at all.

Peter looked down, then back at Norman. "Okay. Okay, just... please... leave my Aunt May alone. Leave her be. Leave them be. Please..."

He sounded like just a child and she realized with a start that he was. He couldn't be out of high school.

Norman grinned. "Now that's my boy."

Max cackled and clapped the teenager on the back. "Welcome to the team, kid."

Otto took the opportunity to slip out the door, trailing Ginny in his wake.

She hurried to keep up, shivering. "Why.... What is going on?"

Otto ran his fingers through her hair again. "Nothing with which you need to concern yourself, my dear." He gazed at her affectionately for a moment before going to a cabinet and getting some food and water to take upstairs. Despite what she said now, he was sure she'd be hungry later, once the shock of her new surroundings wore off.

But before they could leave the kitchen, Osborn's voice came again. "Otto, wait a minute. I need to speak with you." Ginny ducked behind a cabinet as Max and Flint came out, pointedly ignoring Octavius as they went back out into the room with the television. Norman was in the door of the other room.

Otto didn't move from his spot by the cupboard. "Yes?"

His lips thinned. "How much is your little toy going to interfere with our team?" He stared at Ginny as she peeked out, and she ducked down again. She was terrified of Norman in particular, and he hadn't even touched her.

Otto glared back from behind his glasses. "As much as you let her interfere. You see, Osborn, I had her upstairs out of the way, and those two sought her out and attacked her. If they can't keep their own impulses in check, I can't see how it's any fault of mine."

"Not what they told me."

Otto actually felt his heart start to pound with anger at that but he kept his face and voice calm and his tentacles motionless. "What did they lead you to believe happened?"

"Flint, who I think you'll agree is the marginally more trustworthy of the two, informed me that she came downstairs and propositioned them, in exchange for help in escaping you."

Ginny stifled an indignant gasp, not wanting to attract either of their attention. But it came out as a squeak.

"I noticed they weren't downstairs anymore and, considering how little I trust either of them, went upstairs to check on her. She was gagged, bleeding, and Flint was strangling her. I'd told them to leave her alone. My extreme reaction was to ensure they wouldn't try it again, because apparently they can't comprehend subtle hints. If you don't believe me, he left very distinct bruises around her neck."

"That doesn't prove much." He raised his voice. "Girl, come over here so I can see you." Ginny didn't come out, huddling smaller in her hiding place. Norman raised an eyebrow at Otto.

"It's okay, Ginny," Otto said encouragingly. "You know you didn't do anything."

Ginny stood up slowly, and came forward, brushing her hair back to show him her neck. The marks of Marko's hands showed very clearly, dark bruises wrapping all the way around her narrow neck. "And you didn't ask him to do this?" Norman asked, reaching forward to take her chin in his hand. She jerked back, shaking her head fervently.

"How could you even ask her that?" Otto put a protective arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.

"Because I'm trying to decide who to believe: my teammates, or your pet." Norman's gaze was level, his voice cool.

Ginny stared at him. There was a lot she would bargain to get free from Octopus, but not that. Not to them.

"And is it so inconceivable that those two would lie to get out of trouble? I'm your teammate too, Osborn, and I know she wouldn't do that." He hoped that Ginny wouldn't do anything openly defiant in front of Norman, not in the light of this story. The entire story hinged on Ginny wanting to get away from him.

"You are. She is not. I have a plan, Octavius, and she's the only stray element here. Your attachment to someone that I can only see as a... luxury, is proving worrisome."

Otto felt the anger flare again but forced himself to keep it in check. This was Osborn, after all, not the two lackeys who barely had enough brain cells to rub together and spark a thought. "Don't talk about her like that. I went through my... transformation with her. She's not... just don't talk about her like that."

"Who is she, Otto? What does she do?" Osborn reached out to tip her face up again, and she couldn't jerk back, trapped against Octopus. Norman's voice was contemplative. "What makes her so special?"

Otto took a minute step backwards, pulling her away with him. "I told you who she is, and she doesn't do anything. She's just special to me, and if you'd tell those two monkeys out there to keep their paws off of her, none of this would matter."

He looked irritated. "I dislike dead weight. But let's go speak with them. You can leave her in there with my boy."

Otto didn't see any problem with leaving her with Peter. He knew she'd be safe in there, but he checked with her to be sure. "You're all right with that, aren't you, my dear?" He whispered to her as he led her to the door.

She nodded stiffly and slipped inside. Norman shut the door behind her with a hollow clang, locking it from the outside. She looked behind her, at Peter, nervous. She had the right to be nervous. That night she took a shortcut through the shipyard had marked a change in her life. Since then, she'd been assaulted by most of the men she'd met. Octavius, first and foremost. Two of the employees in the SHIELD facility. Max and Flint. And she was terrified of everyone else. Pym had tried everything but torture to learn what Octavius had told her. Fury had visited her once and dismissed her as a mentally broken little girl. And Osborn, of course, sent shivers over her skin. And she'd heard this Peter, the boy behind the mask, concede to him.

Peter had been leaning in the corner, racking his brain to figure out a way to get out of this. He didn't want to help Osborn do whatever it was Osborn wanted, but he knew the threats regarding Aunt May and Mary Jane were hardly idle. And they'd taken his web shooters... When the door had opened, he'd looked up, partially terrified, partially enraged. What he saw, instead, was a thin, pale woman with black hair looking back at him. He'd never seen her before. Was she a mutant? What was she doing here? "Um... Hey?"

She retreated immediately to the opposite corner, fully intending to simply be quiet and stay out of his way. From her nervous, darting eyes to the pained, stiff way she walked, it was obvious she was no part of Osborn's team. When Peter spoke to her, her eyes flicked back to him. ".... hello."

Peter suddenly felt sick. It was clear she was injured, and from the sound of her voice and her overall appearance it looked as though she had been tortured for hours if not days. Osborn was disgusting. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head before she thought to lie to him. "No.... you?"

Peter slumped forward. "I've been worse... I've also been better. God, that guy's a nutty nut bar from the nut farm..."

She laughed, a startled little sound, immediately stifled. "Do.... do you know why you're here?"

"Osborn has some fakakta idea that I'm like his son or something. I'm not sure what he's going to do with it, though."

"I don't like Osborn," she said, looking away. But something about her voice made it clear that, so far, she thought he was the least frightening of the four super-villains.

Peter looked back up at her. "What... Why are you here?"

"Octopus. Octopus brought me from SHIELD." She tugged at the cuffs of her shirt, fidgeting.

Maybe she did have powers of some kind. He couldn't think of any other reason for her to be kept in a SHIELD prison facility. Unless she'd worked there. So why would Doc Ock have taken her along? "Do you know why they want you?" Maybe she knew more than he did about their plan, even if it was only a little more.

She blushed, looking at the floor. Even the tips of her ears were red. "Octopus says I belong to him," she mumbled.

The teen was taken back by this. The day just kept getting weirder and weirder as it drew to its close, and he hated to think what tomorrow might bring. "You're not a wind-up toy, are you?"

It might have been insensitive, but it made her smile slightly. "Sometimes feels like it, but no. I'm just... Ginny. Virginia. Virginia Lancaster."

"Peter Parker. High school freshman by day, web-slinging hero by night. So if you're not a wind-up toy, what are you? A mutant?"

"No... I was a student at City Conservatory, but I've spent two months in 'psychiatric custody' at SHIELD, so I guess I'm not that anymore..." She wasn't sure what she was now. She didn't want to define herself by Octavius, but it was difficult.

Peter stared at her, and then smiled. "Well, if they thought they needed to keep you in psychiatric custody for two months, I guess it's a good thing that you don't have powers." He cleared his throat and fidgeted his fingers. "Can I ask why you were there?"

"If I had powers, I wouldn't have needed the custody in the first place," she said with tired bitterness. "Dr. Pym said it was because of the trauma of the r-" Her tongue stuttered on that word. "Of the first time I met Octopus."

Peter felt his stomach sinking, remembering how she had limped into the room. "What... what'd they do to you?" What he was thinking was low, even for Doc Ock. He could hardly imagine that man feeling anything even vaguely human, but that was the worst thing about it, wasn't it?

The blush rose again, confirming his worst suspicions. "It was supposed to be only Octopus... But he left me alone upstairs, and the other two came up...." She trailed off, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Peter had no idea what to say. "That... that's horrible..."

"That's... why I'm here," she admitted. "Can you get me out? Please?" Her voice was quietly desperate and her eyes fixed on him for the first time.

"God... I'll try, but I'm pretty stuck myself." He looked down at his wrists. Even without his web shooters, he still had his other abilities, but would it be enough against all four of them? He didn't know where they were, either, or which way to go once he got out.

Ginny nodded, her expression defeated already. Escape had never worked. More and more punishment. She drew her legs up to her chest, hugging herself. Maybe a chance would come. Maybe.

Otto was silently fuming when Norman suggested they go speak with the other two. He felt like Norman was taking their side, and he knew they were all going to gang up on him. Apparently he was the only one who could use his powers, but if any of them did decide to power up... Well, Marko he could turn to glass with the tazer. Osborn and Dillon would be more difficult. Otto made a mental note to better insulate his tentacles next chance he found. Then he scolded himself for devising ways to take them all down. If he couldn't trust them, how could he expect them to trust him? With his track record, he was lucky Norman had even stopped to listen to his side of the story at all.

Norman claimed a chair, taking it with the air of a man assuming his throne. "Mr. Dillon, turn off the television," he said solemnly, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled in front of his lips. "Gentlemen, I see we have a problem here. I feel the need to remind you all that we are not yet in a secure position, nor can any of us use our powers without alerting Fury to our position. They are looking for us. We cannot afford to squabble like children over some inconsequential toy." The glance he shot each of them was opaque and dangerous. "I want explanations. And options."

Flint snorted and cracked the knuckles of one hand. "We already told you. She came downstairs while you two were in there gabbing to the bug, and asked us to help her escape him." He jerked his head towards Octavius, smirking. "Offered us both some fun for it. We haven't had any pussy in ages. Who were we to say no?"

Otto was pissed at them. They were acting like children. And the fact that they had run to Norman over the subject when Otto thrashed them instead of handling it themselves didn't help. "And what was it you told me when I caught you two, Marko? And don't lie, I remember everything."

"Same thing I told Norman," he said, his face a perfect, stony neutral.

Otto raised an eyebrow. "That story about her coming down and propositioning you? Which, I might add, if you know Ginny, you would also know she's not the type to use sex as currency. Or did you leave out the part where you mentioned it was Mr. Dillon's idea to go upstairs?"

"Well, yeah. She was gonna do us on the couch."

Norman, for the moment, was simply listening to both sides of the argument, his face revealing nothing.

Otto tried to think of something either of them had said that could be used against them, but realized his only clue had been Ginny's reaction to the situation, and that he knew their story didn't match her character. Norman didn't know Ginny, and it was her character that shattered the whole situation. He couldn't say she was a rape victim and as such would shy away from sex. He couldn't really say that she had been waiting until she was married without them asking why she had given it up for him. "You forget that I'm a doctor, and she has vaginal abrasions which indicate the penetration was forced. Even if you did fist her, if it had been consensual she wouldn't have been injured in such a manner. You see?"

Max's eyes flicked to Flint. The use of big words kind of threw him off a bit, but he was resigned to letting Flint do the talking this time. Flint was the one who had come up with the story.

"And," Otto continued, "even if she had propositioned you, which I'm positive she did not, it's your responsibility to the team to say no."

"You forced penetration before we even touched her," Flint said shrewdly. "That's her blood in the kitchen, isn't it?"

"Yeah, isn't it?" Max echoed.

"The point is I told you not to touch her and you did anyway. Whether she initiated it or not, you knew you weren't supposed to go near her, and you did anyway."

Max started to say something but Otto cut him off. "And don't say you didn't know, Maxwell, because I made it perfectly clear when we broke out."

Max slouched back in the couch and pouted. "Hypocrite..." he muttered.

"What?" Otto raised an eyebrow.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, that's what!" Max stood up and grabbed the front of Otto's shirt. "You get all up in our faces for raping her, even though you raped her first, who knows how many times. I'm sick of your arrogant bullshit!"

Otto stared calmly at Max for a moment, and then grinned slowly.

Norman's eyebrows crept toward his hairline. "So it was rape, Mr. Dillon," he said neutrally. Flint groaned, dropping his face into his hands.

Otto brushed Max's hand off his shirt. "Perhaps I am arrogant, but you've never given me any reason to change my opinion of you."

Max gaped at Otto. "You tricked me." He looked back at Flint and protested, "He tricked me!"

Flint gave Max a disgusted look. "Couldn't keep your mouth shut, you dumb fuck."

Norman flicked a hand at them. "Shut up. All of you. Mr. Marko, Mr. Dillon, if you ever lie to my face again, there will be consequences."

Otto kept his mouth shut. He'd won, and it wouldn't do to test Norman's patience.

"But it's still not fair that you're letting him keep a chick up there. I feel like you're picking favorites, and that's not good for the team either. We pull our own weight too, you know," Max whined.

"Yes, you do," he ceded. "You've both performed admirably so far. But men, you're not children." Norman leaned back with a deep sigh. "Just a guess, Octavius, that you're not willing to get rid of the problem?"

"I will walk out of here and take her with me if that's what you really want."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I'm letting you know that's the only way you will get rid of her."

He almost groaned. "Fine. Keep her with you. That way we can have no more of these stupid misunderstandings. If she gets in the way, slows us down, or is at all an inconvenience, she's gone."

"As will I..." Otto muttered under his breath as he went back into the kitchen. Why had he broken them out with them, again? He hated them all right then. Well, he disliked Norman, even though Norman had ultimately let him have his way. He despised the conniving, deceiving Neanderthals and he would never trust them with anything ever. Otto gathered the food he intended to take up to the room, put it in a plastic bag, and opened the door to the cold storage area with his tentacles. "Ginny."

She looked up at him guiltily from her corner, unsure if she would be punished for having been talking to the hero. He hadn't said she couldn't, but he hadn't said she could, either.

"Come on, we're going upstairs." The stony emotionless quality of his voice was caused more by his anger at the others than anything else.

But she didn't know that. She practically scurried to his side, afraid to delay him.

He put his arm around her and led her back through the living room, keeping her on the side that would place him between her and the couch. Otto kept his arm tightly around her on the way upstairs, as well. He didn't release her until the door was closed and locked behind him.

She moved away slightly as soon as she could, looking up at him. "Are you mad?" She asked quietly.

"Yes," Otto snapped as he placed the bag on a bedside table. "But not at you."

"I didn't ask them to do that, I swear," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "I didn't."

Otto's voice softened and he approached her again, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. "I know. I believe you. I think Norman's still on the fence, but if either of us mess up again, he says you'll be gone." And he had a sinking feeling he knew what 'gone' meant.

So did she. "I didn't mess up!" she cried. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Sh..." Otto whispered, stroking her hair. "I know. I meant that Norman has us both under the microscope now, so we both have to be careful. You have to stay with me, and you have to do everything I say when he or either of the others is watching. Don't be scared, I won't make unreasonable demands, but if I say, 'come' you come and if I say, 'stop' you stop, et cetera. Understand?"

She nodded earnestly. Her hair was a tangled mess, still damp from the shower. "Can't we just stay away from them? Or leave? Please can we leave?"

"Norman doesn't want me to leave yet. Otherwise he would have taken my offer to take you and go." Otto sighed and took her hand, fondling it between both of his human hands. Her hands were slender, her fingers long. "I intend to avoid them, especially those two. I hate them."

Her hands were also cold. "So do I," she muttered. "More than I hate you." It was only honesty, with no malice in her voice.

Otto couldn't argue that he wasn’t entirely deserving of that comment. "I brought up some food and more water. I don't know if you're hungry yet or not, but you'll have to eat eventually." He rubbed her icy hand, trying to get some warmth back in it.

She shook her head. She didn't want to ever eat again. She leaned against him unconsciously for the warmth he generated.

Otto hugged her closer with one arm and laid his cheek on the top of her head, breathing her sweet scent. "What now?" He murmured.

She made a small, choked sound. If he didn't know, how the hell should she? "Let's hide up here until they leave," she whispered.

"Hm... I wonder if they'll stay on the first floor..." Otto thought out loud, twisting the fingers of his other hand in her hair. "There must be other rooms on this floor to explore." He wanted to find her some more feminine clothes and dress her up nicely. Even if he didn't let the others see her, he wanted to play with his little toy.

Right now, she was very concealed in his sweatshirt and the too-large jeans. Which suited her just fine. "Can't you make them stay down there?"

"I wish I could. I really do." He could hardly believe she was letting him hold her without a fuss, but then again she was terrified of the others now. "We won't go out yet, though." The doctor escorted her to the bed and pulled her down on her side with him, lying behind her and holding her like a stuffed animal. "What did you and the bug talk about?"

She shrank in on herself a bit. "He asked me why I was here...."

"Hm..." Otto was realizing just how tired he really was, what with the escape and arguing with the others. "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing," she lied, shutting her eyes.

"Come on, my dear," Otto whispered as one of his tentacles turned off the light. "Don't lie to the good doctor." He slid off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand, and then thought about taking off the tentacles.

How did he always know? But she repeated her lie. "I didn't tell him anything."

Otto sat up and pulled off his shirt so he could remove the tentacles and walked them to the corner. "She wants to stick with her lie, hm?" He lied down and put his arm around her again. "She's afraid to tell me the truth. Is that it?"

She was stiff now, but she went limp, nodding. She admitted to being afraid to tell him. If he knew that she'd told the hero that he had raped her, he'd be angry.

"And if she's afraid to tell me..." Otto mused aloud, catching on to the thread of the story, "that means she thinks she said something that could upset me. Correct?"

She shrank smaller. "I'm sorry..." she said, barely audible.

"Sorry for what?" Otto asked, tracing the tips of his fingers across her throat.

"For talking to him..." she said, cringing.

Otto smiled. "Now, now, I didn't expressly forbid it. I didn't intend to leave you two alone anymore, either, so it doesn't matter what you told him." It would come up later, anyway, the fact that he let her off for this one. "Are you still bleeding?"

"I don't know." But she closed her legs tightly. She didn't want him to check. "I think it stopped."

"Think isn't enough, dear." His voice betrayed his concern. "I won't punish you for telling Parker I raped you, but I need you to be cooperative." There was no malice in his voice, though. It was like a doctor talking to a hesitant patient.

She pushed herself up to a seated position. "I'll check," she said, meaning to get up and go into the bathroom.

"Very well," Otto conceded and released her.

She slid off the bed, surprised and relieved, and went into the bathroom. A moment of silence, and then she called out quietly, hesitantly. "It's still bleeding...."

Otto got up and headed toward the bathroom. "Is it worse, the same as, or better than before?"

She sounded a little worried. "Worse..." When he pushed open the door, he found her kneeling on the floor, her fly open. She showed him her hand, the fingers covered in blood.

"Don't worry, dear, Otto will take care of you," he crooned. "Take your pants off and let me see. I know you hate it, but you have to, and I promise I won't do anything."

She sighed, and sat down, pulling the jeans off one leg at a time. Blood had stained all the way down the inside of one leg, soaking through at the crotch.

As she was pulling off the jeans, Otto wet a black washcloth with warm water and knelt between her legs. He gently began dabbing up the blood in order to better assess the extent of the tearing. Making her walk around had probably been what made it worse. It wasn't anything he couldn't fix. She really just needed to keep pressure on it for a while, and rest, but he wanted to find her some painkillers and antibiotics. There had to be some kind of medical facility around here. Norman had said Fisk was always prepared for anything. The fact that he couldn't trust those other two, though, made the part where she had to rest more difficult than it would be otherwise. He couldn't leave her alone to go look for antibiotics and what not.

The blood was coming from small tears around her opening, where the skin had simply been stretched too far and split. She steadfastly didn't look at him, lying back and staring at the ceiling, her cheeks red.

Otto looked up at her and noted the blush on her cheeks, but didn't comment. "Stay right here and try not too move much." The blood was starting to stain the areas he'd carefully washed already. Moving quickly, he went back into the bedroom, put on his tentacles and the t-shirt, and retrieved the robe. He helped to her feet with his tentacles and cocooned her in the robe before sweeping her into his arms bridal style again.

She winced slightly and pulled the robe over her head. She was exhausted still. Getting more so. "M'tired...." she murmured, her head against his shoulder.

"Don't sleep yet, sweetie." Otto left the room, moving quickly but trying not to jar her too much. "Norman!" He called into the house, calm but firm enough to make it known it wasn't a trivial need.

Osborn leaned out of the kitchen, looking nonplussed when he saw her being carried. "Yes, Otto?"

"You say Fisk was prepared for anything. Does he have a medical facility of some sort?"

He nodded. "Second floor, at the back of the house if I remember right." His eyes flicked over Ginny, and he obviously decided that he did not want to know.

Otto swept off with barely a nod, walking on his tentacles. "Are you in a lot of pain?" He whispered to her as he made his way to the back of the house.

She shook her head. "Kind of numb."

Otto passed through a door and into a pretty impressive room. There were large cabinets along one wall and a row of hospital beds, including a variety of electronic equipment that he would have loved to investigate, but Ginny came first. "Dizzy? Light headed? Anything like that?"

She nodded to that, trying to get down. "A little. I'm mostly just so tired...." She rubbed her hands, her fingers cold and stiff. "I want to go home..."

"You can't go home, Ginny." If SHIELD had taken her, he doubted any of her loved ones had been informed of where she was or why she was gone, anyway, but he didn't tell her that now. He set her down on the bed. Her skin was cold but he couldn't really tell if she was paler than usual or not, especially with the damn glasses. "Any trouble breathing?" He asked as he took her wrist to find her pulse. It was the wrist that was scarred from the surgeries.

She shook her head. "My throat's sore..." It felt bruised still, and looked it. But she could breathe with only the slightest roughness. Most of what was wrong with her right now was shock.

One of his tentacles pressed a wad of the robe against the bleeding area. He had to get another look to make sure there was no internal damage, though. Otto sat in silence staring at the wall clock as he counted her pulse. "Any history of blood disorders in your family? Hemophilia, that sort of thing?"

"No... Had an uncle with diabetes, though..." Her pulse was a little fast, stressed.

Otto nodded. "All right. You just relax and let the good doctor take care of you."

She lay back on the bed where he put her, and submitted listlessly as he cleaned her up again, then injected her with a painkiller and pressed a pad of gauze against the splits. She squirmed, uncomfortable.

Otto stared across the room at a wall, wondering if her family, her brother, was worried about her or not. They probably were. "Tell me more about your Uncle," suddenly split through the silence of the room.

"He's dead," she said, startled. "Why?"

"You know I like to hear about you and your life, my dear Ginny. Tell me more." He didn't look at her, even though he was talking to her. "How'd it happen? Were you close?"

She nodded, still visibly uneasy. The fact that he wasn't looking at her made it easier. A little. "He was my mother's little brother. He liked to buy us loud toys when we were little..."

Otto actually cracked a smile at that one and chuckled. "The bane of every parent's existence. Go on. You didn't answer my other question."

"Wilson Fisk... He was the guy the Kingpin killed," she muttered, remembering whose house they were in. "You know, on TV."

Otto wrinkled his brow and a slight frown pulled down on the corners of his mouth. He continued to stare at the wall, through the wall, at some invisible point in the distance. His glasses, however, gave no token to his thoughts.

She wasn't watching his face anyway. She was still blushing, looking everywhere but at him. "Kind of the family scandal, when we found out what he'd been doing all those years. We thought he was a tax auditor..." She babbled to distract herself.

"Mr.... Mr. Big. Yes, Max was telling Flint about that a month or so ago. How ironic. Max was there, you know, in the room, when the Kingpin murdered him. Or so he tells us."

She made a pained little sound. "Of course he was," she said flatly. "Lovely."

Otto looked down at her when she made the sound. "Are you all right, Ginny?"

"No...." Her voice cracked and she was crying again.

Otto continued to watch her, running his free hand through her hair. "So you two were close..." She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. "Why don't you tell me about your mother instead? What was she like? Did she cook? Did she work?" Otto wanted to kiss the girl's forehead so badly.

Ginny didn't open her eyes. "My mom.... She's a chef. She works for a catering company."

"What events does she usually cater for?" Otto leaned closer to her face, eyeing her intensely. It wasn't necessarily sexual, just... obsessive.

Her eyes were still shut. "Concerts, mostly... Big weddings occasionally."

"Hm..." Otto drank in her beauty with his eyes, only a couple inches from her face now. His hand left her hair to trail down her cheek, wiping away her tears. He could smell her too, and she smelled beautiful, like fruity soap and finesse shampoo. "How long has it been since you've seen or spoken to any of your family?" He whispered, thinking about SHIELD again.

"Seven, eight months since I saw them," she said sadly. "They live in Boston. I talked to them on the phone while I was in the hospital, but they couldn't get here before Pym...."

"Hn..." Otto nuzzled her neck to get an even deeper whiff of her sweet perfume. "What did you say to them?" He'd promised not to do anything, but in his mind he wasn't.

She stiffened, her eyes opening. "I... I...." She swallowed. "I told them the story you told me to tell. The one nobody believed."

"Don't be afraid, my dear, I'm merely curious." Otto backed away from her and checked to see if the bleeding had stopped. "You shouldn't walk for a while. Do you want to sleep here or do you want me to carry you back to the room?"

It had, it seemed. She glanced at the door. "Does it lock?"

Otto looked at the door. "I assume, and if not I'll still be here. Don't worry, dear, you've been through enough. I don't intend to try anything else until you heal."

She picked at the sheets. "Here, please."

He nodded and went to the door. Fortunately it did lock. He came back and tucked her in gently, leaving her arms out. He went to the other side of the room and fiddled around with the medicines in the cabinets, finally coming back with a needle filled with clear liquid. He flicked any air to the top and pushed the plunger to make sure it was all out. "I'm going to give you an antibiotic, in case you get another infection. Try to sleep. The rest will do you good." He unzipped and pushed aside the sweatshirt. One of his tentacles swabbed the spot on her shoulder with alcohol and he slid the needle into her.

She flinched. She hated needles. But she watched him make the injection without protesting, and curled up carefully, pulling the blanket up to her ears, her back to him.

Otto smiled affectionately at her and kissed her head just above her ear. "Good night, my good girl," he whispered before turning off the lights, removing his glasses, shirt, and actuators, and claiming one of the empty cots for himself.

Come morning, Ginny hadn't moved. But neither had she slept. She was staring at the blank wall beside her bed, her mind racing and blank all at once. She could think of no way out of this.