Chapter 10: Chapter 010

He groaned as he pulled himself up on the table that he had been placed on, clutching his head in a desperate and failed attempt to find the massive migraine brought on by the sudden rush of memories that assaulted him.

He stumbled, as he tried to stand up, finding his feet too short than what he was usually comfortable with.

"Easy there, son" An old voice wearing the very familiar costume that he'd only seen in comics and movies whenever he had the luxury to indulge in them. His years of practice and experience as a spy and assassin led him to conclude that the old man was tense as if expecting a fight. The cuts and blackened marks on his costume suggested that he had recently been in battle. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"Water." He whispered hoarsely, as he tried to balance himself in his much smaller frame. Looking into the broken glass panels around him, he noticed the body of the old man keeled over just outside a glass tube, that he himself had felt being moved out of. He filed that information for later. He observed his figure in the reflection of the glass panels.

He had short brown hair, with white streaks at the side. He stood just a little taller than five feet eight, and based on his guess, he was anywhere between thirteen to fourteen years of age. He was shirtless, as thick green slime, of the consistency of viscous honey, stuck all over his body.

'Either I'm inside an elaborate comatose dream state, or my final wish of being free and living in a comic book world actually came true. Or I'm in a madhouse, and I just asked a madman parading in a Spider-Man costume, to get me some water.' He thought 'Come on Jason. Pull yourself together. But, man, I didn't expect my last wish would come true.'

He had died on an espionage mission in the Kremlin when Russian FSB agents caught up to him; he had sacrificed himself to stall for time so that his team could make their escape. Being a spy, and a secret service agent had been his entire life, and his only true solace in his life had been the various pop culture novels and shows that he had the luxury to enjoy when he spent time away from civilization as a whole.

This was why his last wish when death had caught up to him, was to be able to enjoy those comics once again. And it looked to him, as though some higher power had fulfilled that wish for him, and given him more than he could have imagined.

His musing was broken by the voice of Spider-Man.

"Here you go son," he said, as he handed Jason a glass of water.

Making sure that there wasn't anything funny mixed in the water, Jason chugged it all down.

"Thank you." Jason said, and then said, "Are we going to ignore the dead body in the room?"

"Uhmm, I'd rather really not look at him," Spider-Man replied after a moment's pause "He's caused me enough grief as it is. Uhmm, what should I call you?"

Jason pondered over what to say here, protocol dictated to give a fake name upon introduction, but he was in uncharted territory here. He decided that he'd rather stay truthful for now.

"Jason." He said finally.

Peter nodded and said "Jason, then. Let's get you out of here son"

Peter hefted the dead body of Norman Osborn in his arms and guided Jason out of the lab, after finding him a clean towel and questionable source of water to clean the slimy sludge off his body, and finding an appropriate coat to cover his torso.

Stepping outside of the lab, Jason and Peter came into a wide courtyard, which Jason assumed was the loading area of an abandoned Warehouse. Looking around for any identifying symbols, he found a broken neon sign. The letters that once read 'Oscorp Labs' were falling apart.

"So, uh. I… Uh… gosh I don't know how to do this, but I guess I should be as upfront as I can be." Peter, who was still carrying the dead body on his shoulder hefted, said.

But before he could continue telling whatever he meant to tell, bright lights lit the open loading area they were standing in the middle of.

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Jason's battle instincts were already on alert, yet he could not see the silhouette of the object that made the light. He looked for cover and was about to drag the old man with him when the object in question finally became visible.

And with the object becoming visible as if it was hidden like a sheen of water on the dark sky above, a powerful hum also became audible. It was a jet, unlike any Jason had yet seen. Its design was sleek, mimicking that of a falcon with its wing spread wide. It reminded him of the V-TOL jets that he had the pleasure of piloting on a couple of occasions, yet it was slimmer, and it hovered midair without any telltale signs of the jet engines that he generally associated with a hovercraft, the smoke was absent as well.

"The Quinjet?" Peter questioned astonished beside him, and Jason noticed that the man was not tensed by the sudden presence of the jet.

The aircraft slowly descended in the middle of the empty loading yard, and a hatch at the back of the craft opened. Smoke first exited out of the, followed by a brilliant white light. Jason had to shield his eyes, as he observed the person who stepped out.

She wore a red and blue outfit similar to Peter and walked with a grace that he had seen in some very nimble fighters. Her brown hair flowed freely, and she wore no mask. Her gaze first fell on the man beside him, and Jason heard Peter breathe a sigh of relief.

Dropping the body from his shoulder, uncaring of its condition as it made a loud thud noise, Peter rushed to embrace the woman.

"May!" He cried, as he engulfed her in a very tight hug. "My baby girl! I thought you were dead, are you hurt?" He said as he looked her over for injuries.

The woman smiled at the man. Shaking her head, she said "No, dad. I wasn't hurt. I was very quickly rescued by my friends."

"How was this possible? If they knew you were in trouble, why didn't they help out earlier?" Peter asked his daughter, apparently having forgotten the presence of the lone bystander watching the pair.

"They didn't know about the trouble. It was only when my vitals dipped a certain level, that the Avengers HQ was notified. Riri had all our suits outfitted with emergency beacons that send a signal to the HQ when we are in mortal danger. That led them to send Kate, and Yelena to help me out." She replied, and then she glanced at Jason.

She took a careful note of him, and then asked her father "Is this him? Is this my brother?"

That was news to Jason. He did not know anything about the body he was currently occupying. It quite obviously wasn't his previous vessel and by the little information, he had been able to gather when he had followed Peter out of the lab, he had assumed he was either a kidnap victim who had been experimented on or a synthetic human body.

Being Peter Parker's son would certainly be awkward for him.

"Yes, this is him. Though, I didn't want to break it to him this way. I don't know much about what he knows, and what he doesn't know. And like Cindy and Ben before him, he seems to have some idea of who he is. He calls himself Jason, so at least he has a name. I assumed Norman trained him. Why he did so, I don't know. Probably to test his stability." Peter had started rambling by then, as he started listing hypothesis after hypothesis of why he knew in his brain.

'He sure has a mind on him. Well, not surprising. If this is a variation of the marvel world, it's none that I know of. Peter Parker has a daughter, that's not something from the main universe.' Jason thought as he slowly made his way to join the father-daughter duo. He completely ignored the cold dead body beside him, it was not his problem to deal with.

The woman, whom he now knew was May, turned to get a look at him properly. Jason could see that the situation was new to her too, and she was out of her depth to deal with this. But she quickly found her words and said "Hi! I am MayDay Parker, and now apparently your elder half-sister."

"Uh, Hi! I am Jason. And I am totally confused." He said. He could already see the awkward questions that were sure to follow soon. His head hurt even more.

How was he going to navigate these conversations, without giving away his bizarre isekai condition?

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