UNKNOWN GUEST

#136 I'm Home

The brightness of the morning sun pierced through the thin curtains, painting streaks of golden light across the room. I groaned softly and turned my head, squeezing my eyes shut against the sudden glare.

Blinking rapidly, I adjusted to the light, feeling the weight of sleep clinging to me like a heavy fog. As I sat up, the question echoed in my mind: Was it all a dream?

Did I really travel through time? Did I truly meet Mom and Dad as younger versions of themselves? Was I actually there with my friends before they became the heroes I knew? And the others... strangers who were somehow so familiar? Or was it all just my mind's wild creation?

I glanced around, my eyes scanning the room, seeking clues to ground me. It didn't take long to recognize where I was. This was my room. My real room. My gaze landed on the table by the wall, where books lay scattered in a chaotic heap. The lamp shaped like Thor's hammer sat proudly on the edge, and my old guitar hung from the wall, collecting a fine layer of dust.

My heart raced as I shifted my gaze to the floor beside me, where a bag lay slumped against the bed frame. The bag. The bag. My fingers trembled as I reached for it, unzipping it with careful urgency.

Inside, I found my worn jacket, folded haphazardly, and... a coat. Dr. Cho's coat. My breath hitched as my fingers brushed the soft fabric. I dug further, and there it was—the time travel device, gleaming faintly under the morning light.

It was real.

I had gone back in time. The memories flooded me—seeing Mom and Dad, their younger faces etched with strength and vulnerability; watching the Avengers before they fully became legends; living among people who only knew me as Jason Roberts.

But then, a darker thought crept in, clawing at my fragile hope. Did I succeed? Did I truly manage to prevent the disaster? My hands clenched around the edges of the bag. Or were my efforts in vain? What if, despite everything I did, Mom and Dad were still... gone?

The sudden, sharp buzz of the front door intercom jolted me out of my spiraling thoughts. The sound echoed through the apartment, insistent and unrelenting. My stomach twisted, and a cold dread washed over me.

The buzzer.

It was the same sound that haunted me, the same way Uncle Clint had pressed it that day. That awful day when he came to tell me the news I never wanted to hear—that Mom and Dad were gone.

"No..." I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. My chest felt tight, my breaths coming in short gasps. "No. Not again."

The buzzer continued, demanding my attention, refusing to be ignored. My hands shook as I slid off the bed and made my way to the door. Each step felt like it took an eternity, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. What if it's Uncle Clint? What if he's here with that same hollow look in his eyes, here to tell me...

I swallowed hard, forcing the thought away as my trembling hand reached for the doorknob. My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear anything else. I held my breath as the lock clicked, and I slowly pulled the door open.

And there they were.

Mom. Dad.

They stood side by side, smiling at me like nothing in the world was wrong. Dad's blue eyes sparkled with warmth, and Mom's calm, unyielding gaze softened as she looked at me.

A sob rose in my chest, but I held it back, not trusting myself to say anything. Instead, I did the only thing I could think of—I surged forward, throwing my arms around them. One arm looped over Mom's shoulder, and the other wrapped tightly around Dad's. I clung to them, burying my face in the space between them, overwhelmed by relief.