I think the first time I remember meeting him I was... three?

Well, remember was a strong word. I remember parts of that day at the very least. I remember the smell of lavender wafting gently from my mothers cardigan as she attempted to coax my attention elsewhere. I wouldn't, burying my head stubbornly in her neck. Her voice was soft and firm, but her words escape me now, up until a glimmer of glittering, emerald paper overtook my interest.

That was more than enough, and I freely let go of my fear at the promise of a new gadget to loosen my tongue. I looked up and saw him for the first time, already thanking him distractedly as I clumsily tore at the neat wrapping. Mom was laughing and apologizing I think, but I didn't care.

I giggled and beamed at the beautiful mechanism clutched in small, chubby fingers. It was the prettiest thing I could ever imagine, smooth metal plates nestled to one another painted this chrome green that became alive beneath the sunlight. A stout golden key protruded from its back, and in its neat polish the strips of a reflection capturing my round, freckled face.

I waved it around like a toddler would, with no true appreciation for what it actually was. That was all, the image of the person that delighted me leaking from memory in favor of a small, gem-colored froglet.

It was the first of many, all from the same man. And with each addition to my collection he steadily bought my affection.

He did not truly join my family until the day my parents found one another in the kitchen on a sticky, summer day. Co-workers swirled through the backyard and home in quick succession. Insistence on enjoying the beautiful summer day was swiftly undercut by bemoaned utterances of humidity and amongst the tide each had assumed the other was watching their own daughter.

But even before panic could overwhelm them I revealed myself, not to them... but the man that always brought me gifts. And he smiled...

I cackled evilly as I ran around him, pulling him behind me with my chin lifted high and a frog worn by years of play dangling from my off hand.

Otto Octavius, a brilliant, tragic scientist that became victim to his own ambition. In the year 2074 he was not only captured, but for the first time he was 'cured.' Whatever it had been that had corrupted his mind dissolved with the effort of the famous Webslinger in combination with the minds at Alchemax labs.

After decades we was subdued and swiftly sent away from his old stomping ground left as a man aged, exhausted and weighed beneath the memories and hatred that lingered in his soul. His recollection of his actions was almost perfect, burdening him with the horrible reality of his monstrosity. But for his brilliance, there were people that wanted to preserve his mind and bring his genius innovation once more back to the forefront of the future. Thus was born the Rehabilitation Initiative.

Though the name wasn't flashy, the goal was just as simple. Evaluate villains and rehabilitate those whose skills can still contribute back greatly to society.

Otto was patient 0.

The day of barbeque, Otto had been offered to join to prove he was capable of socializing and remaining calmed with intensive discomfort amplified by situational commotion and environmental stressors, but it was instead the day they saw him for what he truly was... a simple man.

From that day on he became somewhat constant in my life. He came through the front door with my dad, stopping to offer me candy or a trinket before going to my mother's office. I sat on the floor outside the study, impatiently playing with that same frog from my childhood until they both emerged and found me.

Mom scolded me about not eavesdropping, but Otto always smiled. It felt like we grew together. Otto found himself and as years passed the pain left his expression. I grew out of my childish obsessions but never the joy I felt whenever he was home with us.

Otto is my family, as present for me as we grew as my own parents and celebrating just as they did. He was there in my earliest memories and the idea of him not being in my future was nothing short of strange.