Chapter Text
Michelle has always been used to forgot most of her dreams waking up.
It was actually quite of an event when she remembered one, because dreams can be weird and they're fun to draw.
As a kid, she used to get really excited about this kind of things. She loved to try and remember everything she could and then to use them as a hint to invent new stories and creatures to draw.
It didn't happen often, though... Almost never actually, but that never really bothered her.
She just started to take inspiration somewhere else. From history, for example. Or from people. She always loved to catch the most particular expressions on people's faces and she can become really observant when someone or something really looks interesting enough... Not that there was anyone worth of that much attention in high-school. Most of the time she just ended up sketching students in detention, but she still observed a lot.
She was always focused on the world around her.
She was never the kind of person who can spend the entire day thinking of a dream she had the night before... Until one day she woke up and everything felt wrong.
She could feel she had woken up right when her dream was coming to an important moment. And she had never felt so bad about something like that.
The feeling was so uncomfortable she even tried to get back to sleep in the vain hope she could pick the dream up where it stopped.
She nervously rolled over the bed several times before she finally gave up to the idea she wasn't going to get any extra sleep, let alone dream.
The day hadn't start yet and she already had an headache.
Great.
She got up feeling dizzy and heavy, still craving for her forgotten dream.
It was only when she saw herself in the bathroom mirror that she stopped thinking about it to remember the events of the day before.
Well, kind of.
She saw her wounded forehead and she knew she had been hurt. For some reason she had been on the Statue of Liberty during one of the Avengers battles.
Was that the Avengers?
No.
She only remembered seeing Spiderman.
She remembered three of them actually. But that was probably the blow to the head.
Suddenly, a wave of concern washed over her. She tried to breathe through it, telling herself she was okay and that it made no sense to worry.
And it was really making no sense. She knew she wasn't that hurt and she felt like her worries were supposed to be directed elsewhere.
Then it clicked.
She still couldn't remember why on earth she had been on the Statue of Liberty, but she knew she wasn't alone.
Is this about Ned?
She rushed back into her room, searching for her phone.
She couldn't believe her only friend in the whole world had been in danger and it had taken so long for her to realise.
One ring and Ned had answered already.
"Hey!"
His voice was loud and clear and she let herself sigh in relief even though she was still feeling something was wrong.
"Hey. You okay?"
"Yeah. Are you?"
"Sure."
A few moments of silence followed.
"So-" finally Ned's voice again - "I can't believe we met two Avengers."
"Two?"
"I've also seen Spiderman."
"Yeah, well, I remember three of them, that's not helping," she thought. "Spiderman and...?"
"Doctor Strange, dude!"
"Right. I'm sorry, I'm actually a bit confused about yesterday," she admitted sitting back down on her bed, "I think I hit my head."
"Dude, me too! Oh, my God! Things really got out of control yesterday. I'm glad you're okay."
She breathed trying to quiet down the sense of lack in her chest. "Yeah, I'm glad you're okay too. That's all that matters."
"Sure, that's all that matters," he agreed and paused but she knew what he was thinking.
"I mean, this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me and I don't even remember much, but it's okay, I guess. It still happened, right?" he didn't wait for confirmation, "I kinda helped the Avengers, can you believe it? Uh! Can you imagine being their guy in the chair?"
"Their what?"
"The guy in the chair. You know how there’s a guy with a headset telling the other guy where to go? I could be that guy."
She snorted. "Yeah, okay."
"Can you imagine?"
"I can't imagine sorcerer Stephen Strage needing anything from a guy on a chair."
"Right... but maybe Spiderman does, we don't know much about him."
For some inexplicable reason, she actually considered it, trying to imagine what kind of guy Spiderman could be. Was he a team player or was he more of a lone wolf? Had he ever been lost, wishing someone with a headset could give him directions? Had he ever wished to hear a familiar voice when he was out there fighting bad guys and tired?
Unfortunately, she had no idea how to answer those questions.
"Maybe."