Set Fire To The Rain: Rescue Squad
May. 19th, 2018 05:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsWith all the chaos in the city, there are plenty of people needing rescues from cars and subways and the like.
Julian and Reed pull trapped people out of cars and discuss leadership, friendship, and other positive qualities.
On top of the numerous fires scattered around New York City, there were a number of non-fire emergencies that the NYPD, FDNY, and others had their hands full trying to tend to. Cars jamming bridges, subway cars overloaded with people, and so forth. Pairs of Xavier's residents had been sent out to assist and cover the spots the authorities couldn't due to being stretched so thin.
It was too much, too overwhelming. Everywhere Reed looked there was someone needing help. Not only that, but somehow he'd been paired with his teacher which only increased his anxiety. Reed was used to acing anything thrown in front of him. How was he supposed to impress when he felt almost frozen by the scene in front of him? "Tell me what to do, Julian", he finally said, hands clenched by his sides. "Just...tell me."
On the edge of Hell's Kitchen, the pair of uniformed auxiliary X-Men had just come across a man trapped inside his car. The car appeared to have swerved off the road in the chaos of the event, now an electrical pylon, along with an unhealthy amount of debris, had fallen across the roof. Damage to the frame of the car had warping the metal in such a way that it couldn't be opened, and the victim also appeared to be injured. "We'll have you out of there in a moment, try not to move." Julian assessed the vehicle, trying to find the right spot to pull, but no good options presented themselves. "Stretch Armstrong, I'm going to need your help on this. When I get the door open, I need you to pull him clear as fast as you can. Got it?"
Reed nodded enthusiastically. He was out of his element and it appeared Julian knew what he was doing. Watching intently, Reed stood poised, waiting for his moment and when it arrived, he did just as he was told.
His arms stretched and wrapped themselves around the occupants quickly, pulling them out onto the sidewalk. No serious injuries meant they could wait for a paramedic, although the shell-shocked look on their faces implied something else.
They continued in this fashion for several vehicles, Reed pushing himself more than ever. Brushing sweat off his brow, he glanced around. "I wonder how everyone else is doing. Is Susan out here?"
The metal wrenched and the door flew off. "Sue and a dozen others," Reed pulled the victim free as the rubble further crumpled down the roof, nearly flattening the cabin where the man had been moments before. "Oh that's right, you have a crush on her, right?" As Reed let him go, Julian knelt down and pulled a small pen-light out of his belt, "You okay, dude?" The man nodded, seemingly more traumatized by mutant abilities having been used on him. The light shining in his eyes showed he wasn't concussed.
Julian looked around and saw a family watching them...with their phones out, recording the duo. Not for the first time, Julian was glad their uniforms contained a beacon under the collar that would distort their faces on any modern cameras. "You three! He's in shock. Take him with you to the nearest shelter." Julian gave the man a clap on the shoulder before standing up and motioning for Reed to follow him. "So yeah, you like Sue, right?" they began to walk again, toward the rendezvous point.
"Um, well, you know -- that is to say -- well...." Reed stammered, stiffening up like a board before slumping down. "Yes. I do. She's perfect." He gave Julian a wary look. "Please don't beat me up."
The look Julian returned the statement with was pure confusion. "Why would I beat you up?" They began to walk away from the group with their cameras, who were now helping the man along toward- presumably- a shelter.
"Society has told me that's what best friends do." Reed, having never had a best friend, wasn't really clear on things outside of that. A rumble from nearby caught Reed's attention, and he stretched an arm out, narrowly catching a lamppost as it went down. Although he didn't have the strength to physically move it, he was able to deflect it enough away from the it's intended target. "Why are people still standing around? Shouldn't they be terrified and away from here? I'm terrified. I wouldn't be here if I could avoid it."
"That's not true at all," Julian plucked the lamp post from the air and carefully laid it down on the sidewalk- more cameras were pointing at them. "You didn't have to be part of this...mission. You could have just as easily gone to help at one of the shelters." The sound of breaking glass drew his attention, "Oh hell." Julian turned and headed toward a nearby store front where an elderly man was desperately trying to stop a group of looters who had just broken the picture window that advertised an eclectic selection of goods.
Following Julian as quickly as he could, Reed gaged the situation and determined he was better use as a shield than as a fighter. Grabbing the old man, Reed stretched out his back, deflecting the glass as he shooed him to safety. All the while, he pondered what Julian had said. It was true -- he could have gone and helped with the medical team, or stayed behind with the others. It wasn't like being on a mission was mandatory for inclusiveness.
"I suppose I am kind of a leader then," he stated outloud, ignoring that this wasn't really the time for a conversation.
Julian nodded while pulling the improvised weapons that the thugs were menacing them with out of their hands with a flick of his wrist. "You've got potential, and it helps that you're clever." The looters scattered as the two mutants advanced towards them. "Huh, that was easier than I thought it would be," he mumbled, looking behind himself to ensure there wasn't a dinosaur, Magneto, or anything else that would have caused them to run away so earnestly.
"I'm intelligent," Reed corrected. "Clever makes me sound like a fox. It doesn't denote the leadership qualities that I am trying to get."
With a subtle eye roll, Julian motioned for them to continue the patrol. "Riiiight," the older mutant said, "and what would those be?"
Reed listed them off "Resiliency. Honesty. Initiative. Sincerity." He gave a sharp nod. "Notice how they all have positive connotations? A leader should have that. Not anything negative. That's more of a dictator."
"Something you'll come to realize is that some of our best team leaders don't have those traits, Doc," Julian sighed. "Some are tyrannical, but they get the job done." "Anyway, replace sincerity and honesty with diplomacy- that's what you should learn if you want to be an effective leader. You've already got the resiliency and initiative, since you're out here with me."
Julian stopped and put one of his mechanical hands on Reed's chest- a finger pointing at the younger mutant's heart. "More important that any of it though is this," he poked his friend's chest. "If you don't have the heart for it- like me for example- you'll never get there." Reed gave Julian a look of surprise. He hadn't really thought about the emotions behind leadership. All the skills that he felt were important were measurable. How does one measure 'heart'? What exactly WAS 'heart'. Another cry for help came from behind, and Reed whipped his head around. He'd continue this discussion with Julian another time. Right now, someone needed him.
Miles and Gabriel meet up with the other friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to help stop subway trains.
Fires weren't the only problems that had sprung up in the wake of whatever was going on in New York City. Xavier's residents not able to handle fires were dispatched to help manage the chaos. Reports of problems along the subway tracks had come in, and Gabriel and Miles were the closest to respond.
Miles worried his arms would fall off, given how fast he was web-swinging down to the southeastern end of Manhattan. Most of the borough's subway lines were underground, but way uptown and down here near the Manhattan Bridge, there were some above-ground lines that were threatened by the inferno. Miles had no faith that the MTA was ahead of the game and had halted trains coming into this borough from Brooklyn. If he didn't get there soon, there would be an incredible mess to clean up.
"You need a break?" Gabriel, unable to help himself, looked down. Which led him to squeeze Miles a little tighter. Even though the height was terrifying and they were mid-catastrophe, he had to admit, a part of him was enjoying this ride far better than he had the first one. "We're close enough that I can hit the ground, and meet you there in a few seconds. Or maybe fireman's carry you through the Lower East Side."
"A piggyback ride is so demeaning. I'm eighteen!" Still, though, actual super-speed would get them there faster, which meant more lives could be saved, and losing a little bit of dignity was worth that. Besides, no one else would see them. "Fine, I'll set you down here."
It felt like Gabriel was plummeting to the ground, but he had enough faith in Miles to know better, so he just held his breath until his feet touched solid ground. "Okay." He twisted his torso and rotated his neck, stretching in double-time. "Hop on." Gabriel squatted slightly, maneuvering until he was basically wearing the kid as a backpack. "Jesus," he grunted as he stood. "We're lucky you haven't bulked up too much." He took a tentative step, then stopped suddenly. "Don't wriggle too much. Never done this before, and I can't say I won't leave you behind." Then, before Miles could reply, they were off.
"Phrasing!" came a voice from just behind and off to one side of the pair, as Peter swung into view from around the corner of a nearby building. Having more experience than Miles with the whole web swinging thing - and not having to carry anyone - he managed to keep up with them, though he had to go all out to do so. "Where are we headin', boys?"
Miles didn't dare open his mouth while Gabriel sped like a demon down the streets of lower Manhattan, afraid that despite his mask, he'd swallow a mouthful of bees or something equally absurd. He waited until they stopped at the foot of the staircase leading up to the overhead tracks before responding.
"Hey, Pe . . . Spidey. This is Gabriel. Gabriel, Spider-Man. Es gringo, pero he's a good guy."
"Hey," Gabriel said coolly. He squatted down to let Miles hop off his back, then looked from Spider-Man One to Spider-Man Two, spending a particular amount of time studying this newcomer while trying to maintain his chill. Even in the midst of a potential emergency, he couldn't resist. "Costumes don't leave much to the imagination, do they?"
"Yeah, uh," Peter said, eyes darting down to quickly examine himself to ensure he was decent. He cleverly disguised checking for a wedgie by reaching back and rubbing his back, which he was 110% sure neither of them picked up on, nope. "It's a living, I guess. Or it would be if, y'know. We were getting paid." He shrugged and nodded at them both. "There's trouble afoot, I take it?"
"The whole city's on fire," Miles answered, ignoring Gabriel's charm and Peter's naive embarrassment. "So, you know, another Saturday night. Gotta make sure the trains stop before they get too far in so they don't explode and charbroil the passengers. That would be the second-worst thing to happen to the New York subway this week. ¡Ándele!" He hopped onto the stairway railing, then to the next one, and again until he made it to the top. Much faster than actually taking the stairs.
"Kid's right." Gabriel stared at Other Spider-Man for a few more seconds, unable to remove the hint of a smirk from his face. "Come on, mask. Let's go see what we're dealing with." Without waiting for a response, he took off, using his powers to dart up the stairs.
"You don't have to tell me twice," Peter said, throwing both arms out and webbing either side of the stairwell, then slingshotting himself up and over the threshold, tumbling over once before springing to his feet at the top. "Though I guess you did, technically, between the both... of you..." He stopped talking as he looked around and saw what the other two were already looking at; a lone subway car that didn't seem to be stopping.
A speeding rogue train barreling through the subway system was a movie-worthy disaster even when the city was not on fire. So this added a level of complication Miles wasn't sure they could overcome. "Um, any ideas? Thoughts? Creative solutions?" He looked up at Peter, deferring to him as he often did when they adventured together. "Come on, put that college education to use!"
"Um," Peter started, trying to come up with a plan as he watched the car continue with no signs of slowing down. "Your webs are super strong too, right? You take the far side, I'll take the near, we try to anchor this mofo down." It was the only idea he could think of, and he sprang into action, bolting after the car and trying to hop inside of it.
"Yes," Gabriel said somewhat absently, not quite registering anything Other Spider-Man had said. "You guys go. Do that. And I'll..." What, exactly? He wasn't super-strong; he couldn't freeze or mind-wave the car into place. A loud squeal, almost a screech, cut through his thoughts, and he flinched, then looked toward its source. The car didn't sound like it was slowing down, even with the brakes pushing against the tracks.
He frowned for a second. "Damn it," he said, "you guys had better stop this thing. I can't fly off it." Without waiting for objections or questions, he ran off, letting his powers take over. If he timed it right, he'd be able to jump onto the train with no problem. And then he'd have to figure out how to get people off the thing before it all went to shit.
"Gabo! Ay, cabrón . . ." Miles cut off mid-swear. Gabriel was already too far away to hear him and reprimand him for such language. He sighed and followed Peter by shooting a web at the train to pick him up. Big mistake. The speeding train launched him off his feet, and he dangled from the web like a black-clad ornament. He couldn't even yelp because he had to fight to catch his breath.
But with the proportionate determination of a spider, he fought to regain his composure and clung himself to the exterior of the train. Rebalanced, he climbed over to the other side and then towards the front so he would be opposite Peter. He fired thick strands of webbing from his free hand, aiming at any sturdy structure he could find: lampposts, the gates around the track, the track itself. If life were a cartoon then the subway car would test the elasticity of the webbing to its maximum before rubber-banding, and the train would fling backwards down the track from where it came.
And possibly kill everyone on board in the ensuing wreck, but at least it would have been funny for three seconds.
Mirroring Miles's movements, Peter was flinging web like it was going out of style. Anything that looked like it might have a chance of slowing the train down by even the smallest portion got tagged, and soon enough he had a veritable network of strands and webs spun all around his side of the train.
"Here goes nothin', right?" Whether this was the best plan or not, they were all in - it was going to be all or nothing at all, and he was really, really hoping not to find out what the latter half of that meant.
An empty cartridge ejected with a barely audible click from Miles's web-shooter, and a full one automatically shifted into place so Miles could continue to spin thick web lines to any target he could see. "I think it's slowing down," Miles said, his voice strained from the herculean effort of holding onto each line, several of which had snapped despite their incredible tensile strength, but many of which held strong. "Peter, it's gonna tear my arm off . . ."
"Nnngh, not gonna... not happenin', bro." Peter felt much the same, truth be told, as he ground his teeth and redoubled his efforts to hold on for dear life. "'Sides, we're spiders, bro... we've got like a lot of arms." He couldn't even laugh at his own pun, though, as he concentrated on the task at hand. The train did seem to be losing momentum though, they just had to hold on another bit longer.
Inside the train was panic - people fretting and crying and gasping, calling or texting their loved ones, and in one case, broadcasting the whole thing on social media, because this was a subway train in New York City, and by some law of the universe, there had to be one media professional on it being an asshole.
Gabriel, just after he'd landed inside the car, barreling into a burly man as he jumped through the open doors, decided to save the smartphone guy last. And, just as an extra caution, thought it wise to use his powers to steal the man's phone and hurl it off the subway and into the East River.
Whoops.
He'd had to wait for the Spideys to string the train up in their webbed cocoon, so to speak. Now that the train was slowing, he figured he could start ushering them off. "Folks, just — I'm going to get you out of here, but..."
He stopped speaking, because nobody was listening. Even in the midst of a crisis, New Yorkers refused to take heed of any subway distraction.
Finally, just as Miles felt like he was literally going to be snapped in half, the train came to a halt. He hazarded a glance behind him; with all the webbing he and Peter had spun, the track looked like a breeding ground for spiders. He shivered at the terrifying mental image. "Go Team Spider," he breathlessly congratulated his partner. "Ohmigod everything hurts."
"I think muscles I didn't even know I had discovered muscles they didn't know they had that are all fucking sore as hell," Peter panted, leaning again the side of the car. His eyes followed Miles', surveying all the webbing. "We should get paid by the yard, dude." Because damn, that was a lot of webbing. But they did it.
"Everything ok out there?" he managed to holler out towards Gabriel's general direction.
"These people are assholes," an exasperated voice called back. Gabriel appeared a few seconds later, hopping off the car and helping a pregnant woman step down onto safer ground. "Well, not her," he conceded, then darted toward the spiders. "They'll be fine. We ought to help them down to street level. Maybe make sure they don't get lost." He stood, arms crossed, for a few second. "Nice job, guys," he finally added, then clapped Peter on the back. "Ooh. Muscles."
Kyle rides herd on Pixie and Xavin as they evacuate buildings.
Kyle pulled his bandana down off his mouth and nose, and coughed a few times. "I swear FDNY just called this block clear, shit." He pointed up to the top of a small three-story building on the corner. It's roof - and most of the fire escape was burning. "Anyone in there isn't getting out easy." He asked a silent question with his shoulders and the set of his jaw - and how he looked over the fire-resistant jacket that Pixie had thrown over her wings - if the pair with him were up to helping?
Pixie was hovering in the air, hands on hips like a flame-retardant Peter Pan. She caught Kyle's look and nodded. The last time she'd carried someone, they were both mere centimeters tall, but she felt up to the task.
Xavin gave a tight nod, shifting into the rocklike form they'd been working on all summer. This was what they'd been training for and training had said that it was pretty impervious to heat. "Yeah. I can help."
"Kermit, you fireproof?" Kyle asked, and then retied his bandana over his face. "I'm not, so if you are, you're gonna be a firebreak. Pound down doors, walls, whatever can get us a path. Tinkerbell, you go up - windows are open, we're gonna get up to the windows or roof and get people out that way. Not likely we're gonna get anyone back down the stairs."
Pixie flew up to the second floor, calling out, "Is anyone trapped in the building? We're here to help!" Establishing verbal contact with any conscious victims was vitally important. She also looked through the open windows for anyone might be unconscious.
"Right. Let's go." Even in this shape, the heat of the fire pressed against Xavin's skin. The people in there.... No. Focus. Xavin moved at a slow, lumbering run up the stairs. The ground floor was mostly lobby and up the stairs, to the first floor. "Is anyone here?" Xavin coughed from the smoke and laid a shoulder into the first door, opening a studio apartment. Empty. And then the next.
Kyle wished, desperately, for comms. He could hear Pixie and Xavin over the fire, and sirens, and general sounds of the city but that and also trying to listen for people calling out was difficult at best. Smell was right out - he had smoke up his nose, and had since they'd gotten to the city and it was only getting worse. He wasn't going to be able to smell shit - literally - for hours yet. "First floor's clear!" He yelled, rasped loudly really. "Fire's coming down from the top. Lets head up a floor."
Pixie heard the all-clear and flew to the window above. It felt like the heat was increasing, or maybe it was just the intensifying pressure to find anyone alive and trapped. "Anyone on this floor? We're here to get you out!" At the next window on the third floor, a man and a woman rushed to her when she called out. The woman was clutching some photos, apparently worth the risk to save. The man hurriedly pushed forward a third person, a man who didn't seem panicked or rushed at all, just stunned. "Is there anyone else?" Pixie asked the group. No. "I've got three!" she shouted .
"Nothing!" Xavin shouted and slammed into the door. They lacked finesse, making up for it with close to 400 pounds of solid mass and momentum and skidded to a coughing halt in front of Pixie's three people. "I'm sorry about your door!" because suddenly, impossibly, that mattered. "We're here to help..." We're here to get you out of here but the building is on fire and how the hell are we going to get out and oh my god this is insane and we're too high up to jump. Another deep, coughing breath and Xavin said, trying to fight away panic, "Kyle, what's the plan?"
"The plan is ... " Fuck, he was the grown-up. Kyle coughed, both to cover his pause and to clear his lungs. "Kill the doors, unless they're hot. Shit, shit can you feel if they're hot right now?" "Pixieface, get people down and come back up, you call the shots, go window to window, if there's flames, we gotta skip." He shook his head to try to clear it. "Meantime, X and I are just gonna bust down doors."
"It's okay, I'm going to fly you down," Pixie addressed the group. "One at a time. Who's first?" Stunned man didn't respond. Other man looked skeptical. Okay, stupid idea. Stupid, stupid. "Come with me," she said to the woman, reaching out and firmly grasping her shoulder. "Just put your stuff down and hang on to me, we have to go NOW."
Xavin nodded and ran out the door.
They'd just gotten the last of the doors down - and Kyle was thanking whatever luck he had (and promised to himself that if Jennie, Wanda or Arthur were anywhere nearby he'd be buying them burgers) that there hadn't been any more panicking people refusing to go out the window for fear of catching the mutie or something - when the floor began to creak. "X. MAKE FOR A WINDOW" Kyle yelled - screamed really - over the smoke and his inflamed lungs and miserable smoke-roughened throat. He saw the orange of Xavin's skin between smoke and flame and was a half step behind them, right out a window and then scrabbling down the next building's fire escape.
Julian and Reed pull trapped people out of cars and discuss leadership, friendship, and other positive qualities.
On top of the numerous fires scattered around New York City, there were a number of non-fire emergencies that the NYPD, FDNY, and others had their hands full trying to tend to. Cars jamming bridges, subway cars overloaded with people, and so forth. Pairs of Xavier's residents had been sent out to assist and cover the spots the authorities couldn't due to being stretched so thin.
It was too much, too overwhelming. Everywhere Reed looked there was someone needing help. Not only that, but somehow he'd been paired with his teacher which only increased his anxiety. Reed was used to acing anything thrown in front of him. How was he supposed to impress when he felt almost frozen by the scene in front of him? "Tell me what to do, Julian", he finally said, hands clenched by his sides. "Just...tell me."
On the edge of Hell's Kitchen, the pair of uniformed auxiliary X-Men had just come across a man trapped inside his car. The car appeared to have swerved off the road in the chaos of the event, now an electrical pylon, along with an unhealthy amount of debris, had fallen across the roof. Damage to the frame of the car had warping the metal in such a way that it couldn't be opened, and the victim also appeared to be injured. "We'll have you out of there in a moment, try not to move." Julian assessed the vehicle, trying to find the right spot to pull, but no good options presented themselves. "Stretch Armstrong, I'm going to need your help on this. When I get the door open, I need you to pull him clear as fast as you can. Got it?"
Reed nodded enthusiastically. He was out of his element and it appeared Julian knew what he was doing. Watching intently, Reed stood poised, waiting for his moment and when it arrived, he did just as he was told.
His arms stretched and wrapped themselves around the occupants quickly, pulling them out onto the sidewalk. No serious injuries meant they could wait for a paramedic, although the shell-shocked look on their faces implied something else.
They continued in this fashion for several vehicles, Reed pushing himself more than ever. Brushing sweat off his brow, he glanced around. "I wonder how everyone else is doing. Is Susan out here?"
The metal wrenched and the door flew off. "Sue and a dozen others," Reed pulled the victim free as the rubble further crumpled down the roof, nearly flattening the cabin where the man had been moments before. "Oh that's right, you have a crush on her, right?" As Reed let him go, Julian knelt down and pulled a small pen-light out of his belt, "You okay, dude?" The man nodded, seemingly more traumatized by mutant abilities having been used on him. The light shining in his eyes showed he wasn't concussed.
Julian looked around and saw a family watching them...with their phones out, recording the duo. Not for the first time, Julian was glad their uniforms contained a beacon under the collar that would distort their faces on any modern cameras. "You three! He's in shock. Take him with you to the nearest shelter." Julian gave the man a clap on the shoulder before standing up and motioning for Reed to follow him. "So yeah, you like Sue, right?" they began to walk again, toward the rendezvous point.
"Um, well, you know -- that is to say -- well...." Reed stammered, stiffening up like a board before slumping down. "Yes. I do. She's perfect." He gave Julian a wary look. "Please don't beat me up."
The look Julian returned the statement with was pure confusion. "Why would I beat you up?" They began to walk away from the group with their cameras, who were now helping the man along toward- presumably- a shelter.
"Society has told me that's what best friends do." Reed, having never had a best friend, wasn't really clear on things outside of that. A rumble from nearby caught Reed's attention, and he stretched an arm out, narrowly catching a lamppost as it went down. Although he didn't have the strength to physically move it, he was able to deflect it enough away from the it's intended target. "Why are people still standing around? Shouldn't they be terrified and away from here? I'm terrified. I wouldn't be here if I could avoid it."
"That's not true at all," Julian plucked the lamp post from the air and carefully laid it down on the sidewalk- more cameras were pointing at them. "You didn't have to be part of this...mission. You could have just as easily gone to help at one of the shelters." The sound of breaking glass drew his attention, "Oh hell." Julian turned and headed toward a nearby store front where an elderly man was desperately trying to stop a group of looters who had just broken the picture window that advertised an eclectic selection of goods.
Following Julian as quickly as he could, Reed gaged the situation and determined he was better use as a shield than as a fighter. Grabbing the old man, Reed stretched out his back, deflecting the glass as he shooed him to safety. All the while, he pondered what Julian had said. It was true -- he could have gone and helped with the medical team, or stayed behind with the others. It wasn't like being on a mission was mandatory for inclusiveness.
"I suppose I am kind of a leader then," he stated outloud, ignoring that this wasn't really the time for a conversation.
Julian nodded while pulling the improvised weapons that the thugs were menacing them with out of their hands with a flick of his wrist. "You've got potential, and it helps that you're clever." The looters scattered as the two mutants advanced towards them. "Huh, that was easier than I thought it would be," he mumbled, looking behind himself to ensure there wasn't a dinosaur, Magneto, or anything else that would have caused them to run away so earnestly.
"I'm intelligent," Reed corrected. "Clever makes me sound like a fox. It doesn't denote the leadership qualities that I am trying to get."
With a subtle eye roll, Julian motioned for them to continue the patrol. "Riiiight," the older mutant said, "and what would those be?"
Reed listed them off "Resiliency. Honesty. Initiative. Sincerity." He gave a sharp nod. "Notice how they all have positive connotations? A leader should have that. Not anything negative. That's more of a dictator."
"Something you'll come to realize is that some of our best team leaders don't have those traits, Doc," Julian sighed. "Some are tyrannical, but they get the job done." "Anyway, replace sincerity and honesty with diplomacy- that's what you should learn if you want to be an effective leader. You've already got the resiliency and initiative, since you're out here with me."
Julian stopped and put one of his mechanical hands on Reed's chest- a finger pointing at the younger mutant's heart. "More important that any of it though is this," he poked his friend's chest. "If you don't have the heart for it- like me for example- you'll never get there." Reed gave Julian a look of surprise. He hadn't really thought about the emotions behind leadership. All the skills that he felt were important were measurable. How does one measure 'heart'? What exactly WAS 'heart'. Another cry for help came from behind, and Reed whipped his head around. He'd continue this discussion with Julian another time. Right now, someone needed him.
Miles and Gabriel meet up with the other friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to help stop subway trains.
Fires weren't the only problems that had sprung up in the wake of whatever was going on in New York City. Xavier's residents not able to handle fires were dispatched to help manage the chaos. Reports of problems along the subway tracks had come in, and Gabriel and Miles were the closest to respond.
Miles worried his arms would fall off, given how fast he was web-swinging down to the southeastern end of Manhattan. Most of the borough's subway lines were underground, but way uptown and down here near the Manhattan Bridge, there were some above-ground lines that were threatened by the inferno. Miles had no faith that the MTA was ahead of the game and had halted trains coming into this borough from Brooklyn. If he didn't get there soon, there would be an incredible mess to clean up.
"You need a break?" Gabriel, unable to help himself, looked down. Which led him to squeeze Miles a little tighter. Even though the height was terrifying and they were mid-catastrophe, he had to admit, a part of him was enjoying this ride far better than he had the first one. "We're close enough that I can hit the ground, and meet you there in a few seconds. Or maybe fireman's carry you through the Lower East Side."
"A piggyback ride is so demeaning. I'm eighteen!" Still, though, actual super-speed would get them there faster, which meant more lives could be saved, and losing a little bit of dignity was worth that. Besides, no one else would see them. "Fine, I'll set you down here."
It felt like Gabriel was plummeting to the ground, but he had enough faith in Miles to know better, so he just held his breath until his feet touched solid ground. "Okay." He twisted his torso and rotated his neck, stretching in double-time. "Hop on." Gabriel squatted slightly, maneuvering until he was basically wearing the kid as a backpack. "Jesus," he grunted as he stood. "We're lucky you haven't bulked up too much." He took a tentative step, then stopped suddenly. "Don't wriggle too much. Never done this before, and I can't say I won't leave you behind." Then, before Miles could reply, they were off.
"Phrasing!" came a voice from just behind and off to one side of the pair, as Peter swung into view from around the corner of a nearby building. Having more experience than Miles with the whole web swinging thing - and not having to carry anyone - he managed to keep up with them, though he had to go all out to do so. "Where are we headin', boys?"
Miles didn't dare open his mouth while Gabriel sped like a demon down the streets of lower Manhattan, afraid that despite his mask, he'd swallow a mouthful of bees or something equally absurd. He waited until they stopped at the foot of the staircase leading up to the overhead tracks before responding.
"Hey, Pe . . . Spidey. This is Gabriel. Gabriel, Spider-Man. Es gringo, pero he's a good guy."
"Hey," Gabriel said coolly. He squatted down to let Miles hop off his back, then looked from Spider-Man One to Spider-Man Two, spending a particular amount of time studying this newcomer while trying to maintain his chill. Even in the midst of a potential emergency, he couldn't resist. "Costumes don't leave much to the imagination, do they?"
"Yeah, uh," Peter said, eyes darting down to quickly examine himself to ensure he was decent. He cleverly disguised checking for a wedgie by reaching back and rubbing his back, which he was 110% sure neither of them picked up on, nope. "It's a living, I guess. Or it would be if, y'know. We were getting paid." He shrugged and nodded at them both. "There's trouble afoot, I take it?"
"The whole city's on fire," Miles answered, ignoring Gabriel's charm and Peter's naive embarrassment. "So, you know, another Saturday night. Gotta make sure the trains stop before they get too far in so they don't explode and charbroil the passengers. That would be the second-worst thing to happen to the New York subway this week. ¡Ándele!" He hopped onto the stairway railing, then to the next one, and again until he made it to the top. Much faster than actually taking the stairs.
"Kid's right." Gabriel stared at Other Spider-Man for a few more seconds, unable to remove the hint of a smirk from his face. "Come on, mask. Let's go see what we're dealing with." Without waiting for a response, he took off, using his powers to dart up the stairs.
"You don't have to tell me twice," Peter said, throwing both arms out and webbing either side of the stairwell, then slingshotting himself up and over the threshold, tumbling over once before springing to his feet at the top. "Though I guess you did, technically, between the both... of you..." He stopped talking as he looked around and saw what the other two were already looking at; a lone subway car that didn't seem to be stopping.
A speeding rogue train barreling through the subway system was a movie-worthy disaster even when the city was not on fire. So this added a level of complication Miles wasn't sure they could overcome. "Um, any ideas? Thoughts? Creative solutions?" He looked up at Peter, deferring to him as he often did when they adventured together. "Come on, put that college education to use!"
"Um," Peter started, trying to come up with a plan as he watched the car continue with no signs of slowing down. "Your webs are super strong too, right? You take the far side, I'll take the near, we try to anchor this mofo down." It was the only idea he could think of, and he sprang into action, bolting after the car and trying to hop inside of it.
"Yes," Gabriel said somewhat absently, not quite registering anything Other Spider-Man had said. "You guys go. Do that. And I'll..." What, exactly? He wasn't super-strong; he couldn't freeze or mind-wave the car into place. A loud squeal, almost a screech, cut through his thoughts, and he flinched, then looked toward its source. The car didn't sound like it was slowing down, even with the brakes pushing against the tracks.
He frowned for a second. "Damn it," he said, "you guys had better stop this thing. I can't fly off it." Without waiting for objections or questions, he ran off, letting his powers take over. If he timed it right, he'd be able to jump onto the train with no problem. And then he'd have to figure out how to get people off the thing before it all went to shit.
"Gabo! Ay, cabrón . . ." Miles cut off mid-swear. Gabriel was already too far away to hear him and reprimand him for such language. He sighed and followed Peter by shooting a web at the train to pick him up. Big mistake. The speeding train launched him off his feet, and he dangled from the web like a black-clad ornament. He couldn't even yelp because he had to fight to catch his breath.
But with the proportionate determination of a spider, he fought to regain his composure and clung himself to the exterior of the train. Rebalanced, he climbed over to the other side and then towards the front so he would be opposite Peter. He fired thick strands of webbing from his free hand, aiming at any sturdy structure he could find: lampposts, the gates around the track, the track itself. If life were a cartoon then the subway car would test the elasticity of the webbing to its maximum before rubber-banding, and the train would fling backwards down the track from where it came.
And possibly kill everyone on board in the ensuing wreck, but at least it would have been funny for three seconds.
Mirroring Miles's movements, Peter was flinging web like it was going out of style. Anything that looked like it might have a chance of slowing the train down by even the smallest portion got tagged, and soon enough he had a veritable network of strands and webs spun all around his side of the train.
"Here goes nothin', right?" Whether this was the best plan or not, they were all in - it was going to be all or nothing at all, and he was really, really hoping not to find out what the latter half of that meant.
An empty cartridge ejected with a barely audible click from Miles's web-shooter, and a full one automatically shifted into place so Miles could continue to spin thick web lines to any target he could see. "I think it's slowing down," Miles said, his voice strained from the herculean effort of holding onto each line, several of which had snapped despite their incredible tensile strength, but many of which held strong. "Peter, it's gonna tear my arm off . . ."
"Nnngh, not gonna... not happenin', bro." Peter felt much the same, truth be told, as he ground his teeth and redoubled his efforts to hold on for dear life. "'Sides, we're spiders, bro... we've got like a lot of arms." He couldn't even laugh at his own pun, though, as he concentrated on the task at hand. The train did seem to be losing momentum though, they just had to hold on another bit longer.
Inside the train was panic - people fretting and crying and gasping, calling or texting their loved ones, and in one case, broadcasting the whole thing on social media, because this was a subway train in New York City, and by some law of the universe, there had to be one media professional on it being an asshole.
Gabriel, just after he'd landed inside the car, barreling into a burly man as he jumped through the open doors, decided to save the smartphone guy last. And, just as an extra caution, thought it wise to use his powers to steal the man's phone and hurl it off the subway and into the East River.
Whoops.
He'd had to wait for the Spideys to string the train up in their webbed cocoon, so to speak. Now that the train was slowing, he figured he could start ushering them off. "Folks, just — I'm going to get you out of here, but..."
He stopped speaking, because nobody was listening. Even in the midst of a crisis, New Yorkers refused to take heed of any subway distraction.
Finally, just as Miles felt like he was literally going to be snapped in half, the train came to a halt. He hazarded a glance behind him; with all the webbing he and Peter had spun, the track looked like a breeding ground for spiders. He shivered at the terrifying mental image. "Go Team Spider," he breathlessly congratulated his partner. "Ohmigod everything hurts."
"I think muscles I didn't even know I had discovered muscles they didn't know they had that are all fucking sore as hell," Peter panted, leaning again the side of the car. His eyes followed Miles', surveying all the webbing. "We should get paid by the yard, dude." Because damn, that was a lot of webbing. But they did it.
"Everything ok out there?" he managed to holler out towards Gabriel's general direction.
"These people are assholes," an exasperated voice called back. Gabriel appeared a few seconds later, hopping off the car and helping a pregnant woman step down onto safer ground. "Well, not her," he conceded, then darted toward the spiders. "They'll be fine. We ought to help them down to street level. Maybe make sure they don't get lost." He stood, arms crossed, for a few second. "Nice job, guys," he finally added, then clapped Peter on the back. "Ooh. Muscles."
Kyle rides herd on Pixie and Xavin as they evacuate buildings.
Kyle pulled his bandana down off his mouth and nose, and coughed a few times. "I swear FDNY just called this block clear, shit." He pointed up to the top of a small three-story building on the corner. It's roof - and most of the fire escape was burning. "Anyone in there isn't getting out easy." He asked a silent question with his shoulders and the set of his jaw - and how he looked over the fire-resistant jacket that Pixie had thrown over her wings - if the pair with him were up to helping?
Pixie was hovering in the air, hands on hips like a flame-retardant Peter Pan. She caught Kyle's look and nodded. The last time she'd carried someone, they were both mere centimeters tall, but she felt up to the task.
Xavin gave a tight nod, shifting into the rocklike form they'd been working on all summer. This was what they'd been training for and training had said that it was pretty impervious to heat. "Yeah. I can help."
"Kermit, you fireproof?" Kyle asked, and then retied his bandana over his face. "I'm not, so if you are, you're gonna be a firebreak. Pound down doors, walls, whatever can get us a path. Tinkerbell, you go up - windows are open, we're gonna get up to the windows or roof and get people out that way. Not likely we're gonna get anyone back down the stairs."
Pixie flew up to the second floor, calling out, "Is anyone trapped in the building? We're here to help!" Establishing verbal contact with any conscious victims was vitally important. She also looked through the open windows for anyone might be unconscious.
"Right. Let's go." Even in this shape, the heat of the fire pressed against Xavin's skin. The people in there.... No. Focus. Xavin moved at a slow, lumbering run up the stairs. The ground floor was mostly lobby and up the stairs, to the first floor. "Is anyone here?" Xavin coughed from the smoke and laid a shoulder into the first door, opening a studio apartment. Empty. And then the next.
Kyle wished, desperately, for comms. He could hear Pixie and Xavin over the fire, and sirens, and general sounds of the city but that and also trying to listen for people calling out was difficult at best. Smell was right out - he had smoke up his nose, and had since they'd gotten to the city and it was only getting worse. He wasn't going to be able to smell shit - literally - for hours yet. "First floor's clear!" He yelled, rasped loudly really. "Fire's coming down from the top. Lets head up a floor."
Pixie heard the all-clear and flew to the window above. It felt like the heat was increasing, or maybe it was just the intensifying pressure to find anyone alive and trapped. "Anyone on this floor? We're here to get you out!" At the next window on the third floor, a man and a woman rushed to her when she called out. The woman was clutching some photos, apparently worth the risk to save. The man hurriedly pushed forward a third person, a man who didn't seem panicked or rushed at all, just stunned. "Is there anyone else?" Pixie asked the group. No. "I've got three!" she shouted .
"Nothing!" Xavin shouted and slammed into the door. They lacked finesse, making up for it with close to 400 pounds of solid mass and momentum and skidded to a coughing halt in front of Pixie's three people. "I'm sorry about your door!" because suddenly, impossibly, that mattered. "We're here to help..." We're here to get you out of here but the building is on fire and how the hell are we going to get out and oh my god this is insane and we're too high up to jump. Another deep, coughing breath and Xavin said, trying to fight away panic, "Kyle, what's the plan?"
"The plan is ... " Fuck, he was the grown-up. Kyle coughed, both to cover his pause and to clear his lungs. "Kill the doors, unless they're hot. Shit, shit can you feel if they're hot right now?" "Pixieface, get people down and come back up, you call the shots, go window to window, if there's flames, we gotta skip." He shook his head to try to clear it. "Meantime, X and I are just gonna bust down doors."
"It's okay, I'm going to fly you down," Pixie addressed the group. "One at a time. Who's first?" Stunned man didn't respond. Other man looked skeptical. Okay, stupid idea. Stupid, stupid. "Come with me," she said to the woman, reaching out and firmly grasping her shoulder. "Just put your stuff down and hang on to me, we have to go NOW."
Xavin nodded and ran out the door.
They'd just gotten the last of the doors down - and Kyle was thanking whatever luck he had (and promised to himself that if Jennie, Wanda or Arthur were anywhere nearby he'd be buying them burgers) that there hadn't been any more panicking people refusing to go out the window for fear of catching the mutie or something - when the floor began to creak. "X. MAKE FOR A WINDOW" Kyle yelled - screamed really - over the smoke and his inflamed lungs and miserable smoke-roughened throat. He saw the orange of Xavin's skin between smoke and flame and was a half step behind them, right out a window and then scrabbling down the next building's fire escape.
