Helping
Michelle honestly wasn’t thinking of calling or contacting the superhuman, that was until the Washington Monument happened. She was on cloud nine after answering the winning question for the team, though her face only showed a slight smirk. She had a book in one hand as her teammates raced to the national landmark, Flash holding onto the trophy as though his life depended on it as he all but skipped ahead of them all.
“Great job, MJ,” Liz complimented, patting the girl on the back with a huge grin.
Michelle was so happy about the win, she ignored the slip up of using her private nickname in front of people. “It was a team effort.”
Liz’s smile got infinitely brighter as she pulled the girl into a half hug and threw her arm across the younger girl’s shoulders. “The team would be shocked if they heard you actually say that to them.” She chuckled while nodding her head toward the other teens practically dancing their way down the path, reenacting their answered questions.
Michelle shrugged. She didn’t need them to know she thought they were all good together, she didn’t need them going all mushy on her. Decathlon was secretly her favorite part of the school day, band being a close second. She liked seeing what they could do together. It felt good to be part of something.
Liz waved before shouting a “See ya later!” as she took off to catch up with their teammates who were already at the door.
Their coach/teacher supervisor looked between the girls oddly. “Michelle, are you sure you don’t want to join us?”
Michelle made a face before shrugging. “I really don’t want to celebrate something made by slaves, so…”
“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t-.” he looked to Liz who gave a grimace before nodding. Even the security guard nodded, confirming the girl’s words. “Oh. Well, enjoy your book.”
“Thanks,” Michelle half smiled, leaning against the metal railing, and opening her book. Life was good.
So. Life was good for approximately fifteen minutes.
“My friends are up there!” Michelle found herself yelling before she had a moment to think. Her heart was racing and she didn’t even know who exactly she was speaking to. Seeing the previously solid monument tremble and knowing her friends were inside made her feel cold, even in the bright sunlight. She overheard someone mention that a group of students were inside the elevator and tried her best to keep from hyperventilating.
“Ugh, don’t worry, ma’am. I’ve got this.”
Michelle hadn’t registered the words or who spoke them until she saw Spider-Man crawl up the side of the building. Wait. Why isn’t he in New York? Pushing her racing mind to the side she stared, watching the masked hero attempt, and then finally succeed in breaking the glass with the unwilling help of the police.
How dare they try to stop him? Michelle felt rage burn inside her. He was helping more than they were. They were threatening opening fire on him while he was trying to help her friends that were in danger. The only thing keeping her from flipping off their helicopter as they flew away was the fact she had raced forward as her friends came out, holding onto Liz for dear life.
“Thank God,” she breathed letting the senior go and looking over the other members with relief on her face. Ned seemed to be slightly more banged up, but he was still breathing. She’d have to make a mental note to not punch him in the shoulder for a week or so.
Liz let out a disbelieving laugh. “Thank Spider-Man.”
It was a small phrase, meant to show gratitude to the hero that had already disappeared, but it had a different effect on Michelle then a simple praise to the masked vigilante. If the Accords became real for all heroes… Spider-Man would have been tried and jailed for saving her friends. At the bare minimum, he would have been de-masked and forced to sign the Accords. If he was under the Accords, he wouldn’t have been able to save them. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be able to save half the amount of people he usually did.
As she thought, their teacher called them all over to where the police were asking questions about the event and where journalists were starting to pile up for a story other than the corrupt government. She slowly let go of Liz, letting her walk over to the officers. She hugged a few other teammates, including Ned who seemed shocked beyond belief and chalked it up to the fact she thought they were going to die.
While they were interrogated, Michelle slipped back into the background. It gave her an odd sort of solace. It was familiar and after today she needed familiar. She slowly pulled her phone from her back pocket, scrolling through the contacts, and stopping at the new one.
I’m in.
It was simple and didn’t explain that she wanted to help fight for the person who saved a group of the few people she cared about. It didn’t mention how angry she felt that the police had threatened to shot someone for helping more than they could when they should have been worried about her friends. It accrued to her she was risking her safety and possibly more by even texting him two words but she didn’t care.
Her mom would call it her “blind righteousness”, her uncaring attitude to everything except the injustice in her mind that needed to be fought. She called it passion, Liz referred to it as “her little demon”. Whatever it was called, it was here and it was ready to fight.
You sure?
The reply was faster than expected. She assumed running from multiple countries would result in multiple read receipts. Add in the fact he’s technically ninety something and this was even more unbelievable. Either he was better at technology then he let on earlier or he had someone who knew technology with him, she bet it was the second one.
She read the message a few times before looking up at her friends, a few still trembling and all of them stand-offish around the crowd.
Positive.
Like the text message, the response she got was faster than she expected. She had been outside around the monument for hours, jumping between comforting people and being held back from fighting journalists. Her friends had just been through a traumatic experience and the questions weren’t making it easier for them.
“How did you feel when you felt the elevator drop?” “What did you think right before you could have crashed?” “Please describe the fear you felt.”
The only thing that kept her from pulling out her pepper spray was the fact that as soon as she was about to jump in and yell at and/or get physical with a reporter, Flash had started shaking so she would go to calm him down. Or Cindy needed a shoulder to cry on. Or Charles just wanted her there while he called his mom to explain what happened. If she couldn’t clearly see the fear and shock still in their eyes and the nervous shakes in their hands, she would have thought they conspired to keep her from getting arrested. Actually, that would have been kind of sweet.
Peter showed up about an hour or two later. He and Michelle seemed to have a silent agreement that he would play the comforter too while they waited for permission to leave or their parents to come get them. She didn’t question where he was, he was safe and here to help and that was all that mattered.
In the short time, they had developed a sort of non-verbal language to let the other know what the other members felt. He would nod in a general direction towards Flash, knowing Flash wouldn’t really find him comforting, before taking her place talking to Cindy while she went to check on the boy. He checked on Ned, she on Liz. Charles and Abe seemed to be doing the best so they would try to fill in as well. It was… safe.
Her phone rang as she was standing up, about to give Liz room to speak to her dad privately. She quickly sent a look to Peter before glancing over behind the crowds and pointing at her phone. He nodded, mouthing a small “I got it, don’t worry.”
She may be biased, but that was the moment she first felt connected to Peter. She gave him a rare, non-ironic or sarcastic smile before ducking out and answering the phone.
“Hello?”
“Where are you? Me and a few friends are going to meet you to talk about it.”
Even though Michelle knew it wasn’t going to be her parents, she felt a bit of sadness before the fire started back up inside her.
“Washington Monument.” She answered easily, having woven past reporters and officers with ease. Blending in sure helped in situations like this. She had a feeling that would come in handy.
She heard shuffling on the other end before finally getting a reply. “The Washington Monument where a class full of students were rescued? That Washington Monument?” It was a different voice. Male, sounded around late thirties or early forties. There wasn’t any shook in his tone though. It sounded more like he was clarifying like a teacher would.
“I was unaware we had more than one Washington Monument,” She replied dryly, annoyance coating her voice as like honey. “Hopefully the second one wasn’t built in a similar manner.”
She heard a chuckle and swore she heard a female voice laugh out a “You sure can pick ‘em, Rogers.”
“When are you heading back to New York?”
“Later tonight.” She paced as she spoke, glancing up at the students from a distance. “I have permission to head home but I want to make sure my classmates are okay.” She let out a humorless laugh. “You’d think New Yorkers would be more used to near death experiences given how many times someone has tried to take over the world by starting there.”
“You never get used to them, kid.” Yet another voice commented. “You just get better at dealing with the aftermath.”
Michelle shuffled awkwardly. Maybe it was because she’s emotional or maybe it was because she didn’t know them well, but she didn’t want to talk about getting better unless it meant stopping things like this from happening. “While I’m sure Hallmark would adore that, it doesn’t help me right now.” It came out snarkier then she intended, but she couldn’t take it back.
Whoever was on the line now found it funny, because she heard laughter from more than one voice.
“Huh. I like this one already.”
“We’ll contact you tomorrow afternoon. Be there for your team until then.”
The line went dead and Michelle stared at the call ended screen for a few moments before shaking her head and making her way back through the crowd. Her face was stone hard, her stance one that mimicked a warrior charging into battle. She’d solidified her fate. She wouldn’t have it any other way. She always was one to fight.
When she had shoved her way back to her friends, she could see Peter was sitting next to Cindy. He usually seemed awkward around girls but he was rubbing her back soothingly while assuring her that her parents were on their way and that she was okay. Her tears had dwindled down to slight hiccups and she had a tissue clutched in one of her hands. Peter must have head her approach because he looked up.
Michelle wondered if Peter knew how comforting he was. When he looked up at her he had a sad smile on his face but it made her feel better than she had all day. She saw worry coat his face as he saw her expression. With his hand not rubbing Cindy’s back he reached up, grabbing her hand. She almost jumped at the contact.
“Michelle, are you okay?” he asked slowly, like he was trying to calm a wild deer. She nodded, moving to sit next to him and reaching over him to hold one of Cindy’s hands.
She would be. She would make sure all of them, including their hero of the day, was okay. Or she would die trying.