(Y/n) is alive and well, but, no one knows.
Not only does no one know but those close to her are gearing up to fight her and the cause she was brainwashed into supporting.
As she fights for the wrong side, and as (Y/n) gets flash backs to times with...
I don't own anything except any original character and/or any original plot.
🕷
Chapter Twenty-Six: Baby Monitor Protocol
🕷
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
An hour and a half had passed.
My exhaustion was through the roof. I could tell Peter was the same way. Harry was harder to tell because of his mask. But he had run out of bombs thirty minutes before and resorted to flying high and swooping down. Similarly, according to Misty and her constant communication with Karen, Peter was almost out of webs.
We should have finished the fight twenty minutes after the Starbucks explosion, but we were failing as heroes. The reason? Harry was our friend.
I was always against the idea that love made you weak. More than once, it was my loved ones that allowed me to be a good hero. But god, it felt impossible to hurt someone I loved so much. Someone who had so much good in them, who was just lost. And for that, Peter and I were paying the price.
"We need to end this," I mumbled, knowing Peter would hear it through the com, "I'm going to bloodbend him like I should have an hour ago. We'll take him straight to Xavier's and wait for Jean or the Professor if we have to. Ready?"
"Ready."
"Three... two..."
Thud!
"One?"
Harry's body laid limp on the ground. Cautiously approaching, we pulled off his mask. Breathing. Pale, sweaty, but breathing.
I apologize for my tardiness, but Jean was having trouble getting through to me. Kurt should be arriving soon to take you to the school.
Bamph
"Oh, this looks awful," Kurt mused, observing the glass formed from the heat of the explosions that'd been set off, "Let's get you to the school."
Each of us put a hand on Kurt's shoulders, while he held onto Harry. We teleported away from the battle site, all of our hard work amounting to nothing with a simple thought from the Professor's mind.
Upon arriving at the school, we were crowded by kids. All of them screamed our names, or rather, they screamed "Mr. Parker, Miss. (Y/n)!" They remembered us. Even aged back, we still looked like their old teachers. The teachers all of them loved and related to more than any others, because we were them.
"Hi!" We greeted out former students with as much cheer as our tired bodies could muster. The age similarity between us all was strange, especially with the oldest kids, but that didn't change the foundations of our relationship with them.
A gentle hand landed on my shoulder, "(Y/n)." It was Jean, just as tired as we were, still in uniform, "Come on."
Up the stairs, and through the school. When walking through the hall, I paused when a tiny hand wrapped around my wrist. Despite her unassuming stature, my heart stopped when I saw Mina staring up at me with her classic wide eyes. She'd been the sweetest little girl when we were teaching, but I would never forget her prophecy. I looked at her and saw Tony, the man who deserved to live more than any of the people he brought back, dying for us all.
