#text ;; prefertobeloved

[notimminent]

@prefertobeloved​ spoke, “You don’t have to be scared anymore. You’re safe.”

    It’s an interesting dichotomy between what the brain imagines it will do during a crisis versus what happens in the moment of terror and decision. Something that seems so mundane and yet so complex, the human brain just shuts down. They call it fight or flight, or sometimes there is another word that people seem to not think happens: freeze. When your mind tries to get your body to match the adrenaline, to tell it to move, but your limbs decide that they’re suddenly struck by Medusa and turned to stone. 

Emma was placed in the precarious situation, having gone to the bank to make a deposit for her father that was hard at work on a new commission for someone high up (he wouldn’t specify who it was, but he did say that they were close with The Seven), He was obsessed with the Seven, specifically Vought. He had this idea in his head that, because she was a Supe, had similar powers to a deceased member, and--biased opinion--she was competent and would be able to help people. Emma knew there was another deeper reason, the knowledge that Vought had people in high places, places that could move Emma to the top of the list and get her a lung transplant and proper follow-up care. Despite the rumors of deceit and corruption, he wanted to best for her. But he would never force her into hero work, it was the fine line between pushing her to be better and not trying to overwhelm her and exacerbate her condition due to stress, both mental and physical. 

Today was just supposed to be her off day, just being asked to go on errands for her father and leave the antique shop closed so she could rest while he focuses on his other job, wanting to get it done quickly to appease the high-up customer. Today was NOT supposed to include a bank robbery and being held at gunpoint. Well, not her being held at gunpoint. She was waiting in line when the masked asshats came in, guns ablaze by one of them and the others held intimidatingly at everyone. They were told to get down, but the moment Emma saw a gun, she grabbed the person behind her and held her breath momentarily to focus on pushing her powers from her fingertips to the person next to her and herself. Thank gosh she’d been stubborn enough to have her oxygen be in her tote-bag and not be on her dolly today, or she’d have a tough time trying to hold everything and not make noise. The person didn’t understand what was going on, but Emma held her finger up to her lips before they both disappeared. It was surreal, her body fizzled out of the human gaze, but she could see herself but with a fuzzy haze to show her that her powers were working. She led the woman to a safe-ish place, her heart pounding, the woman crying and holding her breath because she was scared she would be seen. Emma didn’t know if she truly understood what was happening, but she was grateful. 

Emma was able to get three people to a safe distance before something messed up. A child she was helping with their mother tripped over a fallen plant, losing the grip on their mother and becoming seen. Her mind went into overdrive as she dove and grabbed his hand, breath hitched in her throat as she sprinted with the two to the safe area, hearing shouts behind her as the robbers tried to figure out what was happening. 

It wasn’t until after they were safe that she heard the voice of Homelander and the rings of his laser eyes. He took down the robbers with ease and helped the citizens, that smarmy plastered on smile never leaving his face. 

Emma had backed herself into a corner, her breathing hitched and her lungs burned. Her chest felt tight and her breath came out in wheezes. An asthma attack. Her back hit the corner of the wall and she slid down it, hands feebly trying to find her inhaler in her bag. She could feel her powers coming in and out, making her look like she was phasing in and out of existence. Apparently, Homelander heard her and glanced over, seeing her power and asthma attack. She saw him walk over the moment her fingers slid across her inhaler in her bag. With shaky hands, she took it out, trying to focus on revisualizing herself and breathing. Her eyes met his and her inhaler fell out of her bag and away from her, the wheezing of her chest getting worse as tears prickled her eyes. He noticed the plastic container, grabbing it in his strong, glove-clad hand, and walked slowly over to her,

“You don’t have to be scared anymore. You’re safe.”

Strangely enough, she believed him. He stretched the inhaler out to her and she used it, feeling her body fizzle out of sight as she inhaled and her head appeared as she exhaled. She could feel the adrenaline begin to leave her body, the shock seeming to either set in or dissipate, but only one thing seemed to cross her mind, one question she couldn’t stop wondering. 

             “D-Did I... did I do good?”

#prefertobeloved #text ;; prefertobeloved #post ;; para #c: icon;; #v: one of the boys;; #whelp this got long #feel free to not match length #i kinda... word vomitted #asthma attack mention #asthma tw #illness tw #lord this got lengthy