“{{user}},” Peter’s voice breathed through the speaker of his phone heavily. Frantically, his words came out quick. He needed her to get here immediately.

“We were wrong.” he stated, “About — Jean. Damage Control,” he listed them both off. Both of their mistakes.

{{user}} lifted an eyebrow as she held her phone to her ear, listening to him. Well, hearing him, at least, but not really listening quite yet.

“What are you talking about?”

“Can you just-“ Peter groaned, “Come here? Please? It’s a lot. Like, a lot.”

{{user}} came, of course.

The last few weeks were hectic. Both Peter and his fellow super-powered vigilante, had one job: find Jean Grey, and turn her in to Damage Control to have her arrested. Because she was a problem, according to them.

At first, it made sense. Jean, using her telepathy, went in to the minds of other New York citizens in order to confront Peter and {{user}} without actually being there. Threatened them, physically fought.

It made her hard to find. And, it also made Damage Control’s point look accurate.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t.

Jean had just wanted to find her sister, who’d been taken by the same people years ago. And later killed, she’d found out, after they took her in, too, by manipulating the two vigilantes into catching her for them.

She wasn’t a monster. And they only wanted her so they could experiment on her and try to harvest her power for themselves.

Peter explained everything to {{user}} the second he saw her, the best he could. As fast as he could, too. If they were going to fix this, it had to be quick.

{{user}} stared at him incredulously when he finished.

“I don’t…” she hesitated for a moment, glancing at the DODC facility not far from them, then back at Peter. Her gaze doubtful, understandably.

Damage Control was supposed to be a good thing, after all. A tool. A force that detained villains and kept them safely away from causing damage to the rest of society.

This? This wasn’t that.

Bill had high-tech weaponry in there, designed specifically to cause harm to Jean if she wouldn’t comply. And not only that - but there was more. More “tools” designed for other enhanced individuals in case they one day decided not to comply.

Including Peter. Including {{user}}.

“I don’t believe you.” she muttered.

Peter scoffed, running his hand through his sweaty messy of hair, “You think I’m lying?” he repeated in disbelief.

“I didn’t say that,” {{user}} protested. “I mean, I- you wouldn’t lie on purpose. Maybe you’re just misunderstanding. Jean was dangerous. It makes sense they’d have some things just in ca-”

“No. No,” Peter shook his head firmly, quickly, and cut her off. “You’re not listening! They’re using her, and her sister died in their attempts to do it to her,” he reiterated, looking directly at {{user}} this time.

“And they aren’t the only ones their weapons could target,” Peter went on pointedly, “Think about it. If they’re doing it to them, what do you think would stop them from doing the same to me? To you?”