I Woke Up in the Marvel Universe, But All the Heroes Are Women?

Chapter 104: Dump Truck

The golden mask feels heavier today as I stand in front of the Baxter Building for the second time this week, my knuckles stinging from repeatedly hammering the door. Manhattan's winter air bites through my jacket.

"Come on," I mutter, raising my fist to pound again. "I know you're in there, Rita!"

Nothing. Not even the courtesy of a security camera swiveling in my direction. Just the same cold, impenetrable facade of one of the most advanced buildings in the city pretending I don't exist.

I step back, weighing my options. The Fantastic Four clearly don't want visitors, but Piper isn't going to wait while I play by the rules. Every second I waste is another second Doc Ock gets comfortable in her stolen skin.

"Screw it," I decide, focusing my gaze on a spot just inside the lobby. "We ball."

The familiar golden energy surges through me as reality bends around my body. One moment I'm shivering on the sidewalk, the next I'm standing in the Baxter Building's pristine lobby, the transition leaving a brief golden afterimage shimmering in the air behind me.

Immediately, ear-splitting alarms blare from every direction. Red emergency lights flash across the walls as metal barriers slam down over the exits. The floor beneath my feet vibrates with the building's automated defense response.

"Oh, that's nice! They upgraded!" I shout over the deafening noise, actually impressed despite my precarious situation. Last time I teleported in, the security system took a few seconds to register my presence.

I raise my hands in surrender, hoping the gesture will register on whatever security cameras are undoubtedly tracking my every move. "I come in peace! I just need to talk to Rita about…"

The alarms cut off mid-wail, plunging the lobby into sudden, ringing silence. The emergency lights continue to flash, casting eerie red shadows across the marble floor as the elevator at the far end of the lobby hums to life.

When the doors slide open, Susan Storm steps out alone. Her blonde hair catches the emergency lights, giving her an almost ethereal glow as she approaches with measured steps. No Rita, no Human Torch, no Thing, just the Invisible Woman, regarding me with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

"Hello, Skip Step," she says coolly, touching a panel on the wall. The flashing lights cease, and the regular illumination returns to the lobby. With another tap, the security barriers retract from the exits. "I see you've decided to test our new security system."

"I knocked first," I offer weakly, lowering my hands. "No one answered."

Susan taps another panel on the wall, stopping the last of the alarms.

"Yes, most people do tend to knock," she says with a tight smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Though we don't really keep track of them."

As she approaches, I can't help but notice the tension in her shoulders, the slight downward turn of her mouth. Something's bothering her, and it's not just my impromptu visit.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, adjusting my golden mask nervously. "You seem... upset."

Susan's expression flickers for just a moment, surprise briefly replacing annoyance before her professional mask slips back into place.

"It's nothing," she says dismissively, crossing her arms. "How can I help you today, Skip Step?"

"I need to talk to Rita," I say, cutting straight to the chase. "It's important."

Susan's posture stiffens almost imperceptibly. "Is this about Molecule Woman again?" she asks, her tone cooling several degrees.

"No, actually. This is about something completely different."

She sighs deeply, the sound carrying more weight than such a simple gesture should. Her eyes drift toward the ceiling for a moment, like she's gathering patience from some invisible reserve.

"Rita is... busy right now," she finally says, the words coming out clipped and precise. There's an unmistakable undercurrent of resentment in her voice that makes me shift uncomfortably.

"Oh." I rock back on my heels, suddenly feeling like I've walked into the middle of a domestic dispute. "Is there any chance I could wait for her? This is pretty urgent."

Susan studies me for a long moment, her blue eyes calculating. "What exactly is this about?"

I fidget with the edge of my mask, weighing how much to reveal.

"Can I sit?" I gesture toward the sleek white couches in the lobby's waiting area. "This might take a minute to explain."

"Sure." Susan's expression softens slightly. She waves her hand toward the seating area, the simple gesture somehow elegant.

I drop onto one of the couches, expecting her to take the opposite seat. Instead, she settles beside me, close enough that we’re practically touching. The proximity makes me nervous.

"So," she says, angling her body toward mine, "what's so wrong that you came running to the Fantastic Four? This isn't about your alien girlfriend, is it?"

"No, nothing like that," I assure her quickly. "Venom is fine. Actually, this is about Spider-Woman. You're friends with her, right?"

Susan nods, her blonde hair catching the light. "Yes, we've worked together many times. Why?"

I take a deep breath, organizing my thoughts. How exactly do I explain this without sounding completely insane?

"I’m also friends with Spider-Woman," I begin cautiously. "And the thing is, last night she had a fight with Doc Ock and... well..."

I pause, searching Susan's face for any sign that she's ready to dismiss me as a lunatic. Finding none, I continue.

"Doctor Octopus has somehow transferred her consciousness into Spider-Woman's body."

Susan's eyebrows shoot upward, but she doesn't immediately laugh me out of the building, which I count as a win.

"That's... quite an accusation," she says carefully. "What makes you think something like that happened?"

"I don't think it. I know it. For a fact," I say, leaning forward with intensity burning through my veins. "Look, if you don't believe me, just reach out to her yourself. Even in class today she changed her haircut to a bowl cut. A bowl cut, Susan. Piper would never."

Susan blinks a few times, her expression jumping from skepticism to something more calculating.

"You know Spider-Woman's secret identity," she says slowly. It's not a question but an accusation. "She told you."

I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling like I've said too much. "I kinda just figured it out on my own, honestly. She didn't really make it hard."

"Mhm," Susan hums, the sound dripping with skepticism. Her eyes never leave my face, like she's trying to read the truth directly from my soul.

The silence stretches between us, growing heavier with each passing second. I fidget with the edge of my golden mask, painfully aware of how flimsy my evidence must sound to someone like Susan Storm.

"Listen," I finally say, "I know how this sounds. But you have to believe me. The way she moves now is all wrong, it's stiff, mechanical. Her speech patterns have completely changed. She's using words Piper would never use, like 'dolt' and 'intellectual curiosity.'"

Susan's expression softens slightly. "Skip Step, there are many explanations for behavioral changes. Stress, trauma, personal issues…"

"No, that's not it," I interrupt, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Look, I only came here to see if Rita could help me get an introduction with Professor Xavier. The Professor could definitely get to the bottom of this and fix it immediately."

Susan stares at me, her blue eyes widening slightly. The mention of Professor X seems to have caught her off guard. For a moment, she just sits there, processing what I've said.

Finally, she exhales, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Rita helping you meet someone? That would require her to actually leave her lab for more than five minutes."

The resentment in her voice is unmistakable, cutting through her usually composed demeanor like a knife.

"She's been down there for three days now," Susan continues, her fingers absently twisting her wedding ring. "Some groundbreaking experiment that simply cannot wait. It never can."

I shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling like I'm intruding on something deeply personal. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize…"

"No, it's fine," Susan says, waving her hand dismissively. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. "It's just... sometimes I wonder if she even remembers she has a wife. The bed's been cold for weeks now."

She catches herself, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she realizes what she's revealed. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."

"It's okay," I say awkwardly. "Have you tried talking to her about it?"

Susan sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly as she looks at me. "All I do is try, Shane. God, I try so hard." There's a rawness in her voice that catches me off guard. "Last month, I actually told her, 'I think we should open up our marriage.'"

My eyes widen behind my golden mask. "Wow. That's... intense. What did she say?"

Susan's laugh is hollow, devoid of any real humor. "She barely looked up from her equations. Just said, 'If that's what you think you need, Susan.'" She shakes her head, fingers still twisting that wedding ring. "Not even a hint of jealousy or concern."

I shift uncomfortably on the couch, unsure of how to respond to this sudden intimate confession.

Susan turns toward me, her blue eyes suddenly intensely focused. "What about you? You're young, right? In college?" She tilts her head slightly, studying my masked face. "You're probably in an open relationship, aren't you? That's what all the young people do these days."

Susan leans slightly closer. "Would you ever..." She pauses, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. "Would you ever want to sleep with the Invisible Woman from the Fantastic Four?"

My brain short circuits at her words, my mouth suddenly dry. Susan Storm, the Invisible Woman, one of the most famous superheroes on the planet, is basically propositioning me. Before Ellie came into my life, this would've been the ultimate fantasy come true. I mean, everyone with eyes knows Susan has a dump truck ass.

I stand up abruptly, putting some distance between us. My heart hammers in my chest as I back away.

"I'm... I'm really flattered," I stammer, my voice cracking slightly. "Like, genuinely. But I'm completely, madly in love with Venom."

Susan's expression shifts, a knowing smile replacing the intensity from moments before. "Ah, I understand. Young love. That's exactly how Rita and I used to be, once upon a time."

"About Professor Xavier…" I say, desperate to steer the conversation back to safer ground.

Susan studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Yes, I'll reach out for you. Might as well, you seem like a good sport."

Relief washes over me. "Thank you. Seriously, thank you so much."

"Can I have your phone number?" she asks, pulling out her phone. "To reach you once I've made contact."

I hesitate, my fingers hovering over my pocket. "It's... it's my personal number."

Susan's hungry smile sends a shiver down my spine as she leans forward. "That's fine, Skip. We could even text... privately."

The implication hangs in the air between us, heavy and uncomfortable. I take another step back.

"I don't think I'd be comfortable with that kind of relationship," I say firmly.

"Come on, Skip," she purrs, rising from the couch with fluid grace. "I don't bite."

"No, I'm sorry," I insist, standing my ground. "I'm not interested."

Susan's expression shifts, the hunger replaced by resignation. "Fine," she sighs again, moving toward a sleek cabinet built into the wall. She slides open a drawer and rummages inside before pulling out a small device.

"Here," she says, tossing a pager at me. I catch it reflexively, turning the outdated tech over in my hands. "When I hear back from Xavier, I'll let you know. Could be a week or two, though. Professor X takes a while to respond outside of emergencies."

"Isn't this an emergency?" I ask, tucking the pager into my pocket.

Susan arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Is the world in immediate danger?"

"No," I admit reluctantly.

"Then no," she says simply, crossing her arms.

"Fair," I concede, already backing toward the exit. The tension in the room feels suffocating, like I'm trapped in some bizarre social quicksand.

I'm almost at the door when Susan calls out, "And Skip? My offer's still on the table."

An awkward laugh escapes me as I reach for the handle. "Well, please take it off," I say, focusing my golden energy instead of opening the door. Reality bends around me as I teleport directly outside the building, the familiar rush of power carrying me away from Susan's predatory smile.

The winter air hits me like a slap, clearing my head as I stand on the sidewalk in front of the Baxter Building.

I start walking, barely feeling the cold as my thoughts race. Secrets are poison in relationships, I know this. But if I tell Venom about Susan's proposition, she'll literally get herself killed trying to take out the Invisible Woman. No matter how strong the symbiote makes her, fighting the Fantastic Four would be suicide.