Spider-Woman turns to me, her mask's eyes narrowing in what I think might be concern. "You okay there, civilian? You look like you've had quite the day."
I run a shaky hand through my hair, feeling that strange new energy still pulsing beneath my skin. "I... I don't even know where to start. There was a bus, then I woke up in an alley, then she shot someone and chased me in here, and then there was this demon statue…"
My voice trails off as a sudden realization hits me like a truck. I stare at Spider-Woman, an actual, real-life Spider-Woman standing in front of me, and everything clicks into place with horrifying clarity.
"Wait," I whisper, my eyes widening. "Oh my god. I'm in the comics?"
The words slip out before I can stop them. My heart races as I take in the superhero before me, trying desperately not to completely geek out. Throughout high school, I'd been absolutely obsessed with comic books, Spider-Man especially. I'd spent so much on singles, memorized storylines, even had the limited edition posters. I only slowed down sophomore year of college when classes got too intense.
And now here I am, face to face with a gender-swapped version of my childhood hero.
"You okay there?" Spider-Woman asks, her head tilting slightly. "You look like you're about to pass out."
I swallow hard, trying to compose myself. "I'm fine, just... processing."
She nods, then gestures toward my jacket. "Hey, you go to Empire State University, right? I can swing you over there right now if you want. Get you somewhere safe."
"Oh..." I hesitate, glancing back at the webbed-up Scourge. "Don't I need to talk to the cops or something?"
Spider-Woman waves a dismissive hand. "I'll handle all that. I just know men get really nervous after being assaulted. Didn't want to add any more trauma to your day." Her voice softens with genuine concern. "You've been through enough."
The kindness in her voice catches me off guard. I reach for my wallet, needing something familiar to ground me in this insanity. At least my name should be the same.
I flip it open, and sure enough, "Shane Steele" stares back at me. But when I look at my student ID, my stomach drops.
"Wait," I say, my voice hollow, "where in New York?"
"Yeah, where else would we be?" Spider-Woman responds, sounding confused by my question.
I say nothing, my mind racing. I'm not about to announce I'm from another world, that's a one-way ticket to the psych ward. Or worse, some government lab.
I stare at my student ID again, feeling like I'm looking at a stranger's life. "Oh fuck," I mutter, "I'm a freshman, I guess."
The words feel surreal leaving my mouth. Just minutes ago, in my world, I was a senior about to graduate.
Spider-Woman leans over to look at my ID. "Oh cool, a graphic design major," she says cheerfully. "Creative type, huh?"
I nod numbly, trying to process this new information. Graphic design? I was a business major with a focus on marketing. Everything about me has changed.
"Yeah," I manage to say. "Very creative."
"Well, let's get you back to campus then," she says, reaching for my arm. "Hold on tight, first time web-swingers tend to scream a lot."
"Wait, what?" I stammer as Spider-Woman gestures for me to come closer.
"Unless you'd prefer the bus," she quips.
I shake my head, still trying to process everything. She motions for me to move behind her.
"Arms around my waist, nice and tight," she instructs, tapping her hip. "Don't worry, I do this all the time."
Hesitantly, I step forward and wrap my arms around her midsection. She's surprisingly solid, all lean muscle beneath the suit. My hands lock together over her stomach, and I can feel my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Ready?" she asks, and before I can answer, we're airborne.
My stomach drops as we rocket upward through an open skylight I hadn't even noticed. The museum shrinks beneath us at alarming speed, and a scream tears from my throat before I can stop it. The cold November air slaps my face as we arc through the sky.
Spider-Woman's laugh carries back to me on the wind. "First time web-slinging, huh?"
"Not like I had many alternatives!" I shout, my voice cracking as we plummet toward the street below. At the last second, her arm shoots forward, a web line connecting with a nearby building, and we're yanked sideways in a stomach-churning pendulum swing.
"You can hold on tighter," she calls back, a teasing lilt in her voice as she fires another web. "I won't break, promise."
Is she... flirting with me? The thought barely has time to form before we're diving between skyscrapers, my body pressed firmly against her back as pure survival instinct makes me cling to her like my life depends on it, which it absolutely does.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god," I mutter into her shoulder blade, my eyes squeezed shut as we free-fall again.
"Eyes open!" she shouts over the rush of wind. "You're missing the best view in New York!"
Reluctantly, I crack one eye open, then both fly wide. The city sprawls beneath us in all its chaotic glory, a forest of gleaming towers and crawling streets. The sunset paints everything in golden light, transforming even the grimiest corners into something magical.
"Holy shit," I breathe, momentarily forgetting my terror.
"Right?" Spider-Woman sounds delighted by my reaction. "Never gets old."
We swing past the glittering façade of what I recognize as the Baxter Building, and I nearly lose my grip.
The Fantastic Four headquarters! It's real!
"So," Spider-Woman calls back as we sail over a busy intersection, pedestrians pointing up at us, "you're not from around here, are you?"
My heart skips a beat. "What makes you say that?"
"The way you reacted back there. Like you'd never seen a super before."
I swallow hard. "Just... never been this close to one."
She laughs again, the sound surprisingly melodic as we arc between buildings. "Well, consider this your proper New York welcome, then!"
We swing for what feels like forever, my initial terror gradually shifting to a weird combination of adrenaline-fueled exhilaration and nausea. By the time Spider-Woman finally begins descending toward a sprawling campus, my legs feel like jelly, but I'm grinning like an idiot.
We touch down on a grassy quad, my stomach still doing loop-de-loops from the swinging. The adrenaline buzz makes everything hyper-real, the cool evening air, the distant chatter of students, the solid warmth of Spider-Woman's body against mine.
It takes me several seconds to realize I'm still clinging to her like a terrified koala.
"Hmm," she hums, amusement coloring her voice, "you're awfully friendly for a guy."
I jump back like I've been electrocuted, my face burning hot enough to melt steel. My hand automatically goes to my hair, running through it nervously as I struggle to find words.
"Sorry," I mumble, mortified.
"What are you apologizing for?" Spider-Woman asks, cocking her head. "I'm the one who..." She trails off abruptly. She straightens her shoulders and takes a small step back. "Well, I guess I'll see you around."
My inner fanboy is screaming, bouncing around my skull like a caffeinated hamster. Spider-Woman knows who I am. Spider-Woman just saved my life. Spider-Woman just carried me across New York City.
"Yeah, sure, definitely, that would be cool," I babble, trying desperately to sound casual and failing spectacularly. "Thanks for, you know, saving me from the psycho with the gun and everything."
She makes a dismissive gesture. "All in a day's work. Try to stay out of trouble though, okay?" There's genuine concern in her voice that catches me off guard. "New York can be dangerous for, well..."
"Guys like me?" I finish, suddenly aware of how this world probably works.
Spider-Woman's mask eyes widen slightly. "I was going to say 'freshmen,' but..." She shrugs. "Just be careful. The city has its predators."
Before I can respond, she shoots a web upward, the silvery strand connecting with a nearby building. "Sayonara, Shane." With a graceful leap, she's airborne again, swinging away in a blur of red and blue.
I stand there gaping like an idiot, watching until she disappears between buildings. Only then do I realize she called me by name. She must have seen it on my ID.
"Holy shit," I whisper to myself, turning in a slow circle to take in my surroundings. "I wonder if she goes here?"