Reality Warping In Marvel - Chapter 40

To be honest, returning to my childhood home made me feel rather melancholy, even though this isn’t really MY old home. The house I grew up in isn’t there anymore, or might just not have existed at all, and the same goes for most of the other houses I remember. The forest and the coastline is the same though, I guess there’s only so many differences between universes. Even the large rock in what would have been our backyard is there. The neighborhood is more or less as remote and quiet as I remember it, which is what I think Magne- I mean, Eric, will prefer. What he does with his life from this point on is up to him.

I shake off the last bit of nostalgia, it’s time to take care of something I’ve been putting off for too long as it is. But there’s one last bit to do first. In a flash, the forest around me disappears, and is replaced with the frozen wastes of northern Canada, half a world away. In front of me, leaning against an old fallen tree, is the metal container, right where I left it. With a wave of my hand, the lid flies off, and the mortal remains of Michael Van Patrick are exposed to the icy chill of winter. I get a brief flash of naseua at the state of his skull, which is exactly in the shape I’d expect from someone who died from getting a laser blast through the brain. Since they weren’t exactly planning an open casket service for the kid, the SRA operatives never bothered trying to make the body more presentable either, since they were just going to loot it for DNA and pretend he hadn’t died at all.

Jesus, what’s with these people and clones? Back home, you couldn’t even mention the concept of human cloning without being accused of everything from heresy to crimes against humanity, but here it’s something random jerks can just do in their spare time.

I focus, and MVP’s body begins to mend itself, the head wound reknitting, his skull first, then the eyeball reappearing, followed by muscle, then skin, then hair, and finally, you could hardly tell he had died a horrible death at all.

And just like that, he hadn’t.

Michael Van Patrick sat up with a shocked gasp, taking his first breath of air in over a year.

He looks around in terrified confusion, finally spotting me, but just as he’s about to ask me the usual question, I hold out my hand, offering him a small booklet. “Sorry to interrupt, but I get the same questions so often that it’s easier to just hand out these informative phamplets”

MVP glances down at the phamplet, before reluctantly accepting it, and reads the title out loud in a disbelieving voice “So A Reality Warper Brought You Back To Life – 10 Common Questions” He looks back at me “Is…is this a joke?”

I roll my eyes “Page 1, No It’s Not a Joke. Seriously, read the phamplet.”

…

30 minutes later, I’m sitting in a diner in a small town a few miles away, watching as MVP reads the latest news on my smartphone with increasing levels of horror. Considering that he was one of the most enthusiastic volunteers for the Initiative, discovering just how much abuse they were engaged in, not to mention their behavior after his death, isn’t doing much for his state of mind, but it’s better to just get this over with rather than have him try to run back to the U.S and return to Camp Hammond. The waitress walks over with our drinks and gives him a concerned look. “Is he okay?”

I shrug “Yeah, just some bad news, he’ll get over it. Just turn his eggs and bacon into a smiley face or something, that might cheer him up.”

The waitress wanders off, and MVP lowers the phone, his face looking downcast. “I knew things weren’t perfect, but… God, I feel like such a fanboy! I can’t believe I fell for this crap!”

I take the phone back, slipping it into the pocket of my coat “Don’t feel too bad, you’re not the one who screwed up, it’s… well, literally everyone in charge of everything. This whole SRA idiocy was a mess from top to bottom. I mean, when a teenager dies on the first day, that’s not a good sign.”

He laughs hollowly “You know, it’s not even dying that bothers me, it was over in an instant. Hell, I don’t even remember it, everything just went black, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in that weird coffin and you were sticking a phamplet in my face. I wanted to be a hero, and death is always a big risk in that line of work, but dying like this? Over someone elses stupidity? I didn’t die fighting for a good cause, I didn’t even get a chance to! It was just… pointless!” He drifts off as the waitress brings our food, which I notice she really did shape into a smiley face for MVP, much to his confusion. “Uhh, thanks, miss?”

She smiles and hands me my steak and eggs before moving to take the orders of a family that just sat down at the other side of the diner, and we eat in silence for a while before MVP looks back up from his meal. “Why did you bring me back now? I can ask that, right? It wasn’t in the phamplet you gave me.”

I nod and finish chewing before I answer “Usually, the answer is, “because I felt like it”, but in your case, it’s a little different. See, I’m going to bring someone else back, and he’s going to be in the same boat you are. I figured you might watch eachothers backs or something.”

“Someone else died at Camp Hammond?!”

“Huh? Uh, no, not to my knowledge, I mean in the sense that they missed most of this SRA nonsense because they were dead. Well, sort of. Okay, it’ll take too long to explain and it’s super dumb anyway, just finish your eggs, then we’ll get this done.”

…..

“CAPTAIN AMERICA ISN’T DEAD?!”

“See, this is why I insisted on going out in the middle of nowhere to do this thing” Luckily, there’s nothing around us for hundreds of miles except Canadian wilderness, so MVP’s outside voice doesn’t attract attention from anyone except a few startled birds. “No, he’s not dead, the Red Skull did…something, and now he’s lost in time or whatever. I couldn’t follow it either, but long story short, he’s not DEAD dead. Only mostly dead.”

“MOSTLY dead?!”

“Look kid, I don’t make the rules of the universe, a lot of it is super dumb. The more famous you are, the bigger the chance is that you dying will actually be some complex nonsense, like it was an evil clone or you were teleported into the future, or sent back in time or whatever. And that’s what happened to Cap, his consciousness is lost in time, and I’m going to bring him back.”

MVP just shakes his head in disbelief “And if you could do this at literally ANY TIME, why aren’t you getting around to it until right now?”

“Honestly? I was focusing on mutant stuff and then it just sort of slipped my mind. Now, are you going to keep bitching that I’m not bringing back the greatest hero of the 20th century fast enough, or are you going to let me do it?!”

MVP holds up his hands “Alright, sorry! It’s just… this is a lot to take in, you know?”

“Didn’t the phamplet help?”

“I feel like you might be overestimating how much informative literature helps people, especially when the issue in question is being brought back from the dead.”

I sigh and turn back to the task at hand. This is a little different than bringing the dead back, since Rogers isn’t actually dead, even though his body is still in the present. I hear MVP gasp behind me as Steve Rogers lifeless body appears in front of us, dressed in his Captain America uniform. It feels odd, the body appears dead yet somehow… isn’t. I lower it into the snow, before I turn my focus to his lost consciousness, drifting aimlessly in the timeline.

For a moment, I feel my own mind connect to another, somewhere in the distant future. I pull, and Steve Rogers opens his eyes once again.

“On your feet, soldier. The mission isn’t over yet.”

….

“Holy shit, it’s really him! It’s really Captain America!” MVP tugs at my coat sleeve in a fit of fanboyism, and I do know where he’s coming from with it. There’s something oddly inspirational about the man, even as he is now, freshly brought back to normal life. Cap looks around, shuffling to his feet, and like the trained soldier he is, quickly asseses the situation and any possible threats around him. Then the memories start coming back.

“…was I…dead?”

“Nnnnot exactly, but there’s still going to be a very angry groundskeeper at Arlington tomorrow.”

He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog “I remember the court steps, and a shot and then… something else happened, didn’t it? It’s a blur, but it didn’t seem like death.”

“Well, the Red Skull got involved and-”

He sighs “Of course.”

“-yeah. it was a whole thing. Anyway, my name is Ginnungagap, and this is a fellow resurectee, Michael Van Patrick.”

“I go by MVP!” he gushes “It’s such an honor to meet you, sir! My grandfather wrote so many great things about you!”

“Nice to meet you too, son” Cap smiles and shakes MVP’s hand “Was his name Van Patrick too?”

MVP shakes his head “No, my dad changed it. Our original last name was Erskine. My great-grandfather was Abraham Erskine.”

Cap’s eyes widen in surprise. I just groan in annoyance “I KNEW there was something about you I forgot about.”