Advanced Summary: Jackie Logan and her Grandfather moved to a small apartment on the corner of West 54th and 6th five years ago after the incident, and for the past year or so those of the "gifted" kind, whether it be a dunk-ish P.I, a deaf man in a black mask, or a fast-talking Merc, something about her rusty fire escape seems to draw them in when they're in need.
Or maybe it's the cookies she started leaving out after her first super human visit.
Either way, when a kid with spider powers starts visiting her fire escape to Jackie can't help become more invested in him than she is in the others. Of course, the loudmouth Mercenary says she has a crush on him but what does she know, she's an emotionally distant grown up with a drinking problem.
JACKIE LOGAN WAS USED TO UNCONSCIOUS PEOPLE IN MASKS BLEEDING ON HER BEDROOM CARPET. Most people wouldn't be; most people, when a stranger was on their fifth-floor fire escape, bleeding out and not even coherent enough to tell you their name, would call the cops.
But not Jackie Logan. Instead, when she started pulling people through her window to patch them up, then thirteen-year-old Jackie wanted to help them, because obviously, they couldn't go to a hospital, because hey, if they could they wouldn't be on her fire escape, they'd be in an ER.
That's why she didn't mind pulling in a teenager wearing a red and blue onesie. His arm was bleeding, and back on the fire escape he'd been passed out and curled up in fetal position with his arms around his ribs.
The first thing Jackie did when she got him on his floor was take off his mask. It's not that she cared to know who or what he looked like, but rather to see if his cheekbone or nose was broken. But it wasn't. In fact, not an inch of his pretty face had been touched in any way shape or form.
So, knowing how most superheroes felt about their secret identity, she slipped the mask back on him.
Jackie had quickly cut the right sleeve of his costume off so she could stop the bleeding from the knife wound on his upper forearm. It was deep, but not deep enough to need stitches so instead of pulling out her sewing kit she packed gauges on top of gauges onto the cleaned wound.
Once there were enough layers she started feeling his chest. By now Mr. Matt had been on her fire escape unable to get to a lady named Claire enough times for her to be able to spot broken ribs. She also knew how to splint a broken bone, realign a broken nose and see if a person was concussed because of him.
Jackie was thankful that this "gifted" person didn't wear a skin tight suit like Wade or Mr. Matt did, but instead a sweat-shirt and joggers and bright red rain boots.
She had just started to unzip when he groaned loudly.
"Hey take it down," she hissed, covering his mouth with her hand, she could feel him tense under her, "My abuelo's in the other room!" After a moment Jackie moved her hand off his mouth.
The boy tried to sit up but Jackie gently pushed him back down.
"Just relax, you're safe. Alright?"
"Where am I?" His words were still slightly slurred and Jackie could hear the panicked tone. So in order to try to soothe him, she smiled gently and explained slowly,
"My bedroom. You were out on my fire escape passed out and bleeding so I brought you in for some first aid."
"I-I was hurt?"
"Yeah, uh, there was a cut on your arm that was still bleeding by the time I pulled you in and your ribs might be broken. I was just going to check them when you woke up."
"You were?" He asked hesitantly, Jackie nodded. "I won't if you don't want me to." It wasn't a lie, she wouldn't force her help upon him, but she certainly would nag him until he accepted it.
"No- I- sure. Thanks." Jackie leaned over him and nodded. She unzipped his hoodie and saw that the undershirt he was wearing was a tee-shirt with a picture of Supermans logo.
"Nice shirt," she commented.
"Thanks." Jackie had just started to check his ribs when he started to speak again, "Did, did you take off my mask."
"I did," Jackie said honestly, the boy swore under his breath, "I just wanted to make sure nothing was broken."
"But don't worry," Jackie added, "I have no clue on who you are."
"Really?"
"Really, I've never seen you before." Just as he was about to say something else he hissed in pain when she pressed against his eighth and ninth ribs.
"It hurts to breathe?" The boy nodded. Broken, she thought.
"Alright come on you have to sit up so I can wrap you."
"Alright." Jackie slipped an arm under his back while his hands pressed against the floor and the other held onto her shoulder.
Jackie then reached over and grabbed a roll of ace bandages. "I'm going to need to take off your shirt so I can bandage your ribs properly. Okay?" The boy hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay."
It took Jackie nearly fifteen minutes to help the boy out of his tee-shirt. Jackie started to giggle when his shirt was off, not to make him feel self-conscious or anything, but because he looked like an idiot with his mask still on but his shirt off.
"What?"
"Nothing," Jackie said, "It's just, you look kind of funny with your mask still on." Jackie saw the boy's face muscles twitch under the mask for a moment before he used his non-injured arm to pull off the bright red ski mask.
When both pieces of clothing were hazardously tossed on her bed, Jackie began to roll the ace bandage around his ribs.
"Who are you?" The boy asked. His eyebrows had come together to form a crease between them and his lips were turned down.
"Jackie Logan, you?"
Instead of telling her his name he asked; "Why did you help me? Why not call the cops?" Jackie leaned back when she was done wrapping his ribs.
"Because Red," she said with a small smile, "I doubt if you could have gone to a hospital you'd be passed out on a fifth-floor fire escape."
"I'm sorry if I freaked you out."
"It's cool, you're not the first masked person I've brought through my window."
"I'm not?" Jackie shook her head.
"That seems pretty dangerous," the boy said.
"God," she groaned, "Do all you super losers get together and decided to give the same speech to whoever helps you or is it all one big coincidence?"
"Coincidence," the boy smirked. He was cute. Jackie, as she felt her cheeks heat up a bit, was thankful the only light in her room was coming from her dim bedside lamp and not the bright overhead lights.
"Nice. So Red," she asked, calling him his new nickname, "How do you plan on getting home? Flying, teleporting, cab?"
"Swinging," he told her. Jackie raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
The boy raised an arm and flicked his wrist, and white goo shot out of something Jackie had initially written off as a bracelet and landed on the stuffed bear that resided on top of her dresser.
The boy then, in one swift motion, pulled back his arm, the white goo and her bear followed and caught the bear.
Jackie took her bear and looked a the string-like goo.
"What the hell is this?"
"Webbing." Jackie looked up at him.
"Like spider webs?" The boy nodded.
"Alright Red," Jackie smiled mischievously, "I guess I'll have to start calling you Spiderboy then."