#oooooof this had content a bit heavier than I usually write

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Heroic

Okay, the title is really vague because I wanted to avoid spoilers, but I’m gonna have to do a spoiler or two bc this particular ficlet requires trigger warnings!  Hooray!  So here’s an intense ficlet inspired by a hot button issue in my home country (the US of A), in which Emmett rises to the occasion, making both his parents proud and angry at the same time.

TW: Gun violence, school shooting situation (no injuries or deaths, don’t worry)

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              Emmett looked up from his comic book when his mom turned off her favorite John Denver CD.

              “What in the world…” Angie said faintly.  Emmett looked out the window.  His eyes widened.  He sat up straighter.  Every day, one of his parents would pick him up from school and then go pick up Emily, since her school let out half an hour later.  He’d gotten used to the routine.  The police cars parked outside Emily’s school and crowd of people milling around was most definitely not part of that routine.

              “What’s going on?” Emmett asked.

              “I’m not sure, hon,” Angie said.  Emmett continued to stare out the window.  A familiar shade of orange caught his eye.

              “Is that Dad?”

              “Looks like.”  Angie’s voice was carefully controlled.  Emmett watched his father, who was in his full hero gear, animatedly conversing with a police officer.  The car came to a stop.  “Stay in the car, Emmett.”

              “But what if Emily’s-”

              “Emily can take care of herself.  You know that.”

              “But-”

              “Emmett Stanley McGucket, this is not up fer debate. Yer goin’ to stay in here until I find out what’s goin’ on, understand?” Angie snapped.

              “…Yes, Ma,” Emmett mumbled.

              “Good.”  Angie got out of the car.  Once she was engrossed in conversation with a police officer, Emmett silently opened his car door and exited.  He snuck as close as he could without attracting attention, but still couldn’t make out what Angie was saying.

              “Dangit,” Emmett muttered.  

              “Hey, kid,” a voice said.  Emmett spun around.  A police officer was approaching him.  Emmett discretely slid off his power dampener.  “You can’t be here.  Go back to-”

              “You don’t see me,” Emmett instructed the police officer. The police officer’s eyes glazed over. He stood silently, limp as a rag doll.

              Oops.  Emmett glanced back at his mom, who was still arguing with a police officer.  Hang on.  This might work.  Emmett turned his attention back to the police officer he was commanding.

              “Turn on your radio and give it to me,” he said. The police officer handed him his radio. “Go over there.”  Emmett pointed at the small cluster of people that included Angie.  “Turn on someone else’s radio.  Discretely.” The police officer lumbered away, following Emmett’s instructions.  The radio Emmett was holding crackled on.

              “I demand to know what is goin’ on,” Angie’s voice said.

              Yes!  It worked! Emmett grinned.  I can’t believe it!  He looked up from the radio to see his dad walking over to Angie.  This won’t go well.

              “Ma’am, you need to leave,” Stan said gruffly. Emmett winced.

              It’s so awkward whenever they have to interact and one of ‘em is masked but the other isn’t.  Angie crossed her arms.

              “I won’t.  Not until I get some answers,” she said firmly.  “Tell me what is happenin’.  My daughter’s in that buildin’!”

              “I-” Stan started.  He rubbed his face.  “There’s a gunman situation.”  Emmett’s heart plummeted to his feet.  “We were able to evacuate most of the children safely, but the gunman is holding one class hostage.”

              “Which class?” Angie asked.  Stan looked away.  “Which class?”  Angie’s voice broke.

              “Seventh period Advanced Chemistry,” Stan said quietly. Angie covered her mouth with one hand.

              Emily’s in that class!  Emmett gripped the radio.  That’s it.  I can’t just stay out here and do nothin’!

              “Tell me now what steps yer takin’ to rectify the situation,” Angie demanded.  Her voice shook with emotion, but carried, attracting attention.  Emmett swallowed.

              It’s go time.  While his mom was occupying the attention of everyone, Emmett silently slipped past the line of police officers.  He sprinted towards the school.  Before he could make it to the front doors, he was tackled to the ground.

              “Kid, what the hell are you-” began the police officer holding Emmett down.  Emmett met his eyes.

              “Let me go,” he commanded.  “You didn’t see me.”  Like before, the officer’s eyes glazed over.  He silently released Emmett from his grip.  Emmett got up.  He looked over at the officer he had commanded earlier.  The man was shaking his head like he’d just woken up from a deep dream. Emmett broke into a cold sweat.

              I can only control one person at a time.  They’re gonna realize where I am.  This is my only shot.  Emmett jumped to his feet, bolted the remaining few feet to the front doors, and ducked inside.  Immediately, the radio he was holding crackled.  The sound echoed strangely in the mostly empty school.

              “Emmett!” Angie’s voice screamed, startling Emmett so much he almost dropped the radio.

              “H-hi, Ma,” Emmett said weakly.

              “Emmett, get back here, right now,” Angie snarled.

              “How the hell did you do that, kid?” demanded the voice of the first police officer Emmett had controlled.

              “It’s- it’s a long story, sir.”

              “And it’s irrelevant at this juncture,” Stan’s voice said.  Emmett swallowed nervously.

              Oh, no.  Dad only uses fancy words like “juncture” when he’s pissed.  Emmett began to walk through the deserted halls, disconcerted by the book bags and notebooks on the floor, dropped when people were running. I’m gonna be grounded until I’m eighteen.

              “What matters is that we’ve got an innocent, harmless kid who managed to get into a dangerous active crime scene,” Stan continued. Emmett huffed.

              “I’m not harmless,” he muttered.

              “Emmett,” Angie said in a warning tone.

              “Kid, leave the school, now,” Stan demanded.

              “No.”

              “Boy, if you don’t-” Angie started.

              “My twin sister is being held hostage, okay?  I’m not gonna sit in the car and do nothin’, Ma!”

              “Rethink your decisions,” Stan said.

              “No.  I know what I’m doin’,” Emmett said firmly.  Muffled noises sounded over the radio.

              “Ma’am, please don’t make me arrest you,” said one of the police officers.

              “I’ll take care of her,” Stan said.  “You just keep talking to the kid, okay?  Don’t let him turn off the radio.”

              Shoot!  That’s right, I should turn off the radio.  Otherwise, that person with a gun ‘ll hear me comin’.  His hands shaking, Emmett turned the radio off.  A dead silence fell.  Not the best adjective to use right now, ‘Met.  He came to a stop and strained his ears.  Faintly, he could make out vague sounds coming from down the hall.  Okay. Okay.  You’re actually pretty close.  He continued to stand still in the hall, every inch shaking with nerves. Move, dammit!  Emily’s counting on you!  Emmett took a step.  C’mon!

              Still shaking, Emmett managed to walk down the hall. He stopped outside the only classroom with a closed door.  Through the door’s window, he could see Emily, pressed up against one of the classroom’s walls.  She looked up.  Her eyes widened.

              “Emmett?” she mouthed.  Emmett nodded.

              “Send him out here,” Emmett mouthed back. Emily’s eyes widened further.  She shook her head.  Emmett nodded.  Emily grimaced.

              “Fine,” she mouthed.  She looked at something that Emmett couldn’t see, most likely the gunman.

              “Hey, uh, I think I heard somethin’.”  Emily’s voice was loud enough that Emmett could hear it through the closed door.  “Somethin’ out in the hall.”  A muffled voice replied.  “It’s not. I’m serious.”  Footsteps sounded.  The door burst open, revealing a teenage boy Emmett’s age, holding a rifle not unlike the ones Emmett’s relatives used to kill foxes that got too close to the henhouse.  Before the boy could raise his gun, Emmett spoke.

              “Stop.”  Emmett focused as much of his power into his voice as he possibly could.  The boy froze.  “Let go of yer weapon.”  The boy dropped the gun like it was red hot.  “Kick it over to me.”  The boy did as he was told.  Emmett picked up the gun, then tossed it over the boy’s head.  A gust of wind carried the gun to Emily, who caught it in her hands. Emmett then released the command. The boy’s eyes cleared from the haze they got when under Emmett’s control.

              “Who- how-” the boy started.  Emmett swallowed.

              “Look.  I could force you to give yourself up,” he started.  His voice shook, betraying his continued anxiety about the situation. The boy straightened his back.

              “Oh yeah?  How?”

              “Well, fer starters, my sister has your gun now. And our ma’s been teachin’ us how to properly operate firearms since we could crawl.”  Emmett nodded at Emily.  The boy turned around.  He saw Emily brandishing the gun and paled.  “So yeah, I could force ya.  But I shouldn’t have to.  And I don’t want to.  You did a bad thing.”  The boy’s shoulders fell.  “You know it. So do what ya can to rectify it. Give yourself up.”  Emmett put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.  “I’ll walk out with ya.”  After a moment, the boy nodded.  “C’mon.”

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              “You’re grounded until you’re eighteen, kid,” Stan said, his voice muffled by the tight hug.  By the time Emmett and all the students had emerged from the school, Stan had gone home to change out of his spandex so that he could be there not as the superhero Flamethrower, but Emily and Emmett’s dad.  Emmett and Emily were currently wrapping in a tight hug by both their parents.

              “I figured,” Emmett replied.  Angie broke off the hug to cup Emmett’s face in her hands.

              “Emmett, that was incredibly brave,” she said sincerely. Emmett smiled.  “But it was also incredibly dumb.”

              “Easily the dumbest thing I’ve seen any of you kids do,” Stan added.  “And that’s saying something.”  Emmett shrugged.  “Sport, if it wasn’t for your power, you’d be in deep shit.  You realize that, right?”

              “Yeah.”  Emmett rubbed the back of his neck.  “I know.”

              “Emmett got the guy to give himself up without using his power, though,” Emily said.  “Yeah, he used it to get the gun away, but after that, he talked the guy down.” Angie put a hand over her heart. Stan’s eyes welled with tears.

              “Dad, don’t cry,” Emmett said.

              “I’m not crying,” Stan grunted.  “It’s just- it’s allergy season, y’know.”

              “No, it’s not,” Angie said.  She kissed Emmett’s forehead, something she had to stand on her tiptoes to do, now that he was taller than her.  “Honey, I can’t decide whether to be proud of ya or profoundly furious with ya.  Which is part of bein’ a parent, I s’ppose.”  She frowned at Emmett.  “Seriously, though, if ya ever try somethin’ like this again-”

              “Not planning on it.”

              “Well, not until you become a hero like your old man, right?” Stan asked, jovially elbowing Emmett.  Emmett shrugged.  “Aw, c’mon. That was pure heroism, what you just did.”

              “I know, but…”  Emmett looked away.  “It was really scary.”

              “Yeah, that never goes away.  It never stops being scary,” Stan said breezily.  Emmett grimaced.  “What makes a hero is doing the right thing, even though you’re scared.”

              “Yeah…”  Emmett nudged the ground with his toe.  “I’m not really in the mood fer one of your motivational speeches, Dad.  I’m a bit…I just wanna go home.”  His voice became smaller with every word.  Stan wrapped his arm around Emmett’s shoulders and squeezed.

              “You got it, kiddo.  But maybe we can stop for a treat on the way?  I think a hero deserves some ice cream.”

              “I agree,” Angie said.

              “Yup,” Emily said.  Emmett managed a small smile.

              “I’m not one to turn down ice cream,” he said. Stan grinned at him.

              “That’s my boy.”