Chapter 2: Life in the Marvel Universe

Packing up his things took longer than expected. The nurse had handed him a clear plastic bag containing his clothes, shoes, and... a small, weathered brown wallet. It felt strangely familiar in his hands, though the 36-year-old in him knew it wasn't his. He hesitated for a second before opening it, flipping through the few crumpled bills and a student ID for "Midtown High School." His picture was there, smiling awkwardly, along with the name: Jason Matthews.

Well, at least I know my name now, he thought, snapping the wallet shut just as the nurse returned.

"The person responsible for the accident already covered your hospital bills," she said with a reassuring smile.

"Wait, really?" Jason blinked, surprised. Who pays for someone else's hospital bills in New York?

The nurse nodded. "You're all set to go, Mr. Matthews. Just take it easy, alright? And remember, if you feel dizzy or nauseous, come back immediately."

"Got it," he replied, slipping his wallet into his pocket.

Jason left the hospital, stepping out into the cool Saturday afternoon air. The streets were alive with the usual hustle and bustle of New York, but all he could focus on was the sheer surrealism of the situation. He was in Marvel. Not just as an observer—he was actually living it. This is insane.

After a short walk, he arrived at his apartment. He knew Midtown High was nearby, which was both convenient and... concerning. Wait, isn't that the school Peter Parker goes to? He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious, and maybe even a little excited. Spidey himself, and possibly Gwen Stacy, Harry Osborn... and Ned Leeds? Okay, this is getting weird.

Jason unlocked the door and stepped inside. His apartment was surprisingly large for a 16-year-old living alone. He knew he was an orphan, but apparently, the legal system in this universe thought it was a good idea to let him live by himself. Guess child services in the Marvel world is a little more... relaxed.

Dropping his bag by the door, he glanced around the apartment. The place was a mess. Clothes were strewn across the floor, dirty dishes piled up in the sink, and the living room was cluttered with random items.

Seriously? Was I this messy as a teenager? Jason thought, shaking his head. The 36-year-old in him cringed. He knew he had to clean up, but first things first—he needed to eat.

He opened the fridge and was greeted by the sight of a half-empty carton of milk, a questionable-looking sandwich, and some old pizza. He sighed. Definitely need to go grocery shopping. He made a mental note to head to the store later.

For now, he sat down on the couch, resting his head against the back. As he stared up at the ceiling, thoughts of the future started swirling in his mind. Superpowers. Could he get them? He was in the Marvel Universe now—maybe there was a way. The 16-year-old in him was filled with excitement at the thought, but the older part of him couldn't help but feel wary. Superpowers came with a lot of responsibility—and a lot of danger.

He snapped out of his thoughts when his eyes caught the blinking light on his answering machine. Wait, people actually leave voicemails? He pressed the button, and the machine began playing back the missed calls.

Most of them were spam or wrong numbers, but one caught his attention:

"Hey, Jason, it's Rogue... I heard about the accident. I just wanted to check in and see if you're okay. Give me a call when you're back. Take care."

Jason's heart skipped a beat. Rogue? The 16-year-old in him felt a rush of excitement—he had a serious crush on her. She was in his class, but her powers hadn't manifested yet. The 36-year-old side of him chuckled at the irony. If she kisses me into a coma, I could think of worse ways to go.

He grabbed his phone and dialed her number, his hands shaking slightly. After a few rings, she picked up.

"Hey, Rogue. It's Jason. Uh... thanks for checking in."

"Jason! You're alright?" Her Southern accent was unmistakable, and there was genuine concern in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a few bruises and a concussion, but nothing serious."

"I'm so glad to hear that." There was a brief pause on the other end. "Listen, do you mind if I stop by tomorrow? I'd like to see you... make sure you're really okay."

Jason's stomach did a little flip. "Uh, yeah. Tomorrow's good. Around noon?"

"Noon's perfect. I'll see you then, sugah. Take care of yourself."

He hung up, staring at the phone in disbelief. Did I just... make plans with Rogue? The 16-year-old in him was over the moon, while the older side of him was already mentally preparing for awkward small talk. Either way, tomorrow was going to be interesting.

Sunday arrived, and Jason busied himself with cleaning up the apartment. The place looked much better by the time noon rolled around. He'd even managed to do some laundry and stock the fridge with actual food.

As he sat down to wait, nerves started to set in. The doorbell rang, cutting through the silence. Jason took a deep breath and walked over to answer it.

When he opened the door, there stood Rogue, her long brown hair framing her face, her green eyes sparkling with that mix of confidence and curiosity he had always admired.

"Hey, Jason," she said softly, smiling. "You ready for some company?"