Unlikely G Man

Josh emerged from the sewer grate, coughing and gagging as he tried to expel the vile taste of sewer water from his mouth. Every breath he took was tainted with the acrid stench of filth, and his drenched clothes clung uncomfortably to his body. His head throbbed slightly, a dull ache from his fall, as he tried to piece together how he had ended up here. He remembered walking home from the gym in his quiet Utah town, distractedly scrolling through his phone. It had been a typical winter evening, with road salt caked along the sidewalks and the faint buzz of distant roadwork filling the air—a familiar annoyance in Utah. But he hadn't expected the unmarked utility hole that swallowed him whole without so much as a warning sign. One moment, he was mindlessly walking; the next, he was plummeting into darkness.

The fall had been disorienting, and the plunge into icy water even more so. Before he could react, the torrent of winter runoff carried him along, sweeping him through an underground labyrinth. By the time the current slowed, Josh was left wading in some of the foulest, most stagnant water he had ever encountered. Climbing into what he hoped was fresh air, he was met instead by seeing a dark alley framed by towering skyscrapers. Above, the moon hung high, casting a pale glow over his unfamiliar surroundings.

A sinking feeling gripped his chest. None of this looked like home.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto," Josh muttered, his voice shaky.

He looked around, trying to make sense of his situation. His gaze landed on a nearby building, and his stomach churned. In massive letters, there was the unmistakable name: "Oscorp."

He stared momentarily, then laughed nervously, the sound verging on hysteria.

"I must've hit my head harder than I thought," he said aloud, his words tinged with disbelief. "Oscorp? That means... I'm in New York? No, wait. Not just New York—Marvel New York."

The realization hit him like a freight train, and his mind raced. "Utah to Marvel New York in less than ten seconds. Guess the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were onto something—sewers are the fastest way to travel."

He pinched himself repeatedly, desperate to wake up from what had to be a vivid, absurd dream. But the cold, the smell, and the wet clothes clinging to his skin refused to dissolve into the comfort of reality. Sitting down on the filthy ground, Josh tried to process the impossible. Minutes turned into what felt like hours as he sat there, overwhelmed by the enormity of his situation. His breathing grew uneven, and his vision blurred with tears.

"Sure, I didn't have the greatest life," he whispered, his voice cracking, "but this? I don't know if I can survive here. Marvel, of all places."

He sniffed, wiping at his face with a grimy sleeve. "I'm not even a big comic book fan. Couldn't afford them as a kid. And now I'm supposed to live in this place? I don't even know which Marvel universe this is!"

As he sat there, the complete danger of his predicament dawned on him. Marvel might be a playground for superheroes, but it was a minefield for ordinary people like him. Scratch that; Marvel was a minefield for superheroes, too; some writers killed Heros off left and right. Buildings got leveled during superhero battles. Criminal organizations ran rampant. Mutants were feared and hated. Josh had often felt like the most ordinary person in his old life, blending into the background wherever he went. He'd been a guy no one noticed, someone who worked a steady but uninspiring job, went to the gym for lack of anything better to do, and occasionally scrolled through superhero movie news as a break from his mundane routine. But here? Here, he was even smaller, even more vulnerable.

Frustration boiled over, and Josh screamed into the void, "I DON'T BELONG HERE!"

The sound echoed down the alley, fading into the oppressive silence of the city. No answer came from the heavens; no cosmic entity appeared to explain why he had been plucked from his world and deposited here. Defeated, Josh slumped against a dumpster, burying his head in his hands.

"I don't belong here," he muttered softly, the words a mantra of despair.

A light pat on his leg interrupted his spiraling thoughts. He looked up, startled, to find a small green gecko perched on his knee. Its tiny hand rested against his leg as if offering comfort. For a moment, Josh stared at the creature, his mind struggling to process this new oddity.

"Hey there, little guy," he said, his voice hoarse. "If you're here to sell me car insurance, I'm uninterested. Where'd you come from?"

The gecko chirped and tilted its head, staring at him with wide, curious eyes. Josh chuckled weakly. "Guess you don't talk. Probably better that way."

The gecko chirped again, this time gesturing toward the Oscorp building. Josh blinked, his Marvel knowledge—admittedly cobbled together from movies and memes—kicking in. Oscorp was notorious for its experiments in genetic manipulation, especially with animals.

"Oh," Josh said, realization dawning. "You're one of their experiments, huh? Well, looks like we're both starting over, little guy. Feel free to stick with me, but fair warning—I'm as lost as you are."

The gecko climbed onto his shoulder, wagging its tail like an excited puppy. Josh couldn't help but smile as it sniffed at him, then dramatically pinched its tiny nose and fanned the air with its hands. Despite everything, Josh laughed—a real, genuine laugh.

"Yeah, I know I stink," he admitted. "But after that 'sewer slide,' you'll have to deal with it." He looked into the gecko's unblinking gaze. "You're a long way from where you belong, right? Just like me."

The gecko chirped softly, settling comfortably on his shoulder. Josh marveled at how unafraid it seemed, almost as if it had chosen him. Surprised when it leaned into his touch, he reached up to lightly pat its head.

"Guess we're both a little lost, huh?" Josh murmured. "But I don't mind the company if you don't."

The gecko chirped again, almost as if agreeing. Josh smiled faintly. For the first time since this nightmare started, he didn't feel completely alone.

"Alright, buddy," he said, pushing himself to his feet. "Let's get moving."

Josh decided to head east, reasoning that it would lead him to the river. Despite the late hour and the weight of his soaked clothes, he trudged on, the gecko securely on his shoulder. As he walked through the city streets, the occasional passerby glanced at him—some in curiosity, others in mild disgust at his disheveled state. But one older woman, wrapped in a thick coat, slowed as she passed him.

"You alright, honey?" she asked, her tone brusque but her eyes soft with concern.

Josh hesitated, unsure of what to say. Finally, he admitted, "I'm just trying to find my way. "

She gave him a once-over and nodded. "There's an F.E.A.S.T. shelter a few blocks west if needed. Good folks there. Stay warm, alright?"

"Thanks," Josh said, managing a weak smile. She didn't linger, but her words stayed with him, a small reminder that kindness existed even in this harsh world.

When Josh finally reached the Queensboro Bridge, he stripped down to his gym clothes and washed his other outfit in the freezing water. The cold bit at his skin, but the feeling of cleanliness was worth it. Nearby, a group of homeless men warmed themselves around a fire barrel.

Gathering his courage, Josh approached them, holding up his wet clothes.

"Mind if I dry these here?" he asked hesitantly.

They eyed him warily before one of them, a gruff-looking man with a thick beard, shrugged. "Go ahead, kid. Just don't hog the heat."

"Thanks," Josh said, hanging his clothes near the fire. He listened to their conversations as the warmth seeped into his chilled body. Their voices carried the rough edge of the East Coast, but their words were layered with a casual camaraderie that surprised him.

"You new around here?" one of them asked, a wiry man with a scar running down his cheek. "Ain't seen you before."

Josh hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just... trying to figure things out."

The man snorted. "Ain't we all. Don't let this city chew you up too fast, kid."

Another chimed in, his voice kinder. "You got a place to sleep tonight?"

"I'll manage," Josh said quickly, not wanting to seem too desperate.

The bearded man grunted. "You can take Bill's spot; he hasn't returned for weeks. Head under the bridge; look for the hollow. There is some cardboard stashed there. It's dry enough. Watch out for rats, though."

Josh nodded, grateful for the tip. "Thanks."

"Just keep your head down," the wiry man said. "This city's tough, but it's the greatest city in the world. You'll see."

Josh managed a faint smile, their words giving him a glimmer of hope. Through their chatter, he pieced together the timeline. It was 2010. Spider-Man and Ghost-Spider were active heroes, and vigilantes began rising in Hell's Kitchen. The age of heroes and villains was just beginning. He decided to check out the library later so he could google all the dumb questions he had without appearing crazy.

Exhausted and overwhelmed but with dry clothes, Josh followed their directions to a secluded spot under the bridge. There, he found a hollowed-out bush and some cardboard sheets, which he used to make a makeshift bed. The gecko climbed out of his jacket and settled on his chest, chirping softly.

Josh stared at the tiny creature, a flicker of warmth cutting through the cold weight in his chest. "Alright, little guy," he said softly. "I get it. Dwelling on the past won't help me. I need to move forward. But I can't just keep calling you 'little guy.' How about a name?"

The gecko tilted its head as if considering his words. Josh smiled faintly. "How about... Geiko?" he chuckled, thinking of the insurance mascot.

To his surprise, the gecko chirped excitedly, hopping around in approval. Josh laughed, shaking his head, unwilling to share or explain it was a joke. "Alright, Geico, it is. Thanks for sticking with me, buddy."

Wrapping himself and Geiko in cardboard, Josh stared at the stars peeking through the bridge's structure. Despite the day's chaos, he felt a tiny spark of hope. He wasn't alone. And maybe there was a place for him in this world of superheroes. Maybe he wasn't chosen by some cosmic entity, but at least someone wanted him here, he thought while he petted Geico's tiny head.