Ella's breath quickened as the men took another step towards her shaking frame. Around her the lamplights started to quiver as well, mirroring her body's movements. The men didn't notice the change in scenery, taking another step, while above their heads, the beginnings of Spiderman's threads materialised on the rooftop of the old café closest to them.

"Come here little girl, it'll be so much easier for all of us if you just don't resist."

Ella almost considered it; She could just lay back and take it, and maybe she wouldn't feel the sharp sting of a knife in her gut. Maybe, hopefully, she wouldn't feel anything at all. Around her, the lamps were now violently shaking, accompanying the trembling rubbish bins on the streets, and rattling windows of the buildings around the trio.

Spiderman, just arriving at the scene, moved into a fighting stance on the rooftop above Ella and the men, readying his web shooters before realising that the intended target – a lamp post – was moving as though there was a sizeable earthquake shaking the ground around them. Confused and curious, a masked Peter Parker took a moment to assess the situation before him.

Ella's breath quickened to the point where she wasn't sure if the air she was bringing in was actually reaching her lungs, or just entering her dry mouth, and circulating right back out again. She felt like she was going to either explode or pass out, and, at this moment, either option would have been alright with her. With her last ounce of restraint, Ella choked out, "Please."

With that, it seemed as though small bomb had gone off in the front of Café Beanz on the border of Queens and Brooklyn, shattering lightbulbs and cracking windows. Two men went flying into the hard metal posts, which, only a few seconds ago, one could easily recognise as lampposts. Sensing his chance, Spiderman webbed the assailants to the posts, leaving them for the police to pick up, whilst he focused on the cause of the explosion.

In the epicentre, a small girl was huddled, clothed in a ripped flannel and jeans, sobbing.

"Hello?"

Peter approached slowly, he didn't want to scare the dark huddle in the middle of a ring of charred cement and burnt shrapnel.

"What's your name?"

The girl couldn't have been any older than him, around 16 or 17, and was much, much skinnier. Peter reckoned he could lift her with one finger if it came to that, but he didn't really want to find out. What he did know, however, was that she was something special, something powerful.

Although the blast was long over, power still ebbed from the girl, moving ash in graceful waves around her head and shaking body. It was as though she herself was a wash of movement, sending energy through the air, inviting Peter closer and closer, and Peter obliged, considering his senses weren't going haywire, she must be safe.

"Please, let me help you. I'm like you"

At this the girl's head swung up viciously. Her storm cloud eyes glared at peter through a shock of dark hair.

"You are nothing like me," she spat out ruthlessly, "there is nothing like me."

On paper, these words could be taken for cockiness; Something one would expect Tony Stark to say behind a set of tinted sunglasses and a media-worthy smirk. In fact, Peter has almost certainly heard Mr. Stark say that phrase to an over-reaching journalist in a press conference or two. But he's never heard those words come out sounding so desolate. There was venom in her voice, but it wasn't aimed at Peter. There was nobody like this girl, because she believed that nobody could ever be as damaged as she had become. She didn't believe she was gifted with power like Spiderman, Peter realised; She was cursed.

Ella tried to stand. She lifter her heavy limbs one by one, trying to give an illusion of strength to the boy in front of her. She knew that the outburst he had just witnessed had put a target on her back, and she wanted to move; She needed to move. Lifting her head once again, after letting it drop back down after her tirade at the boy, Ella knew she wasn't getting anywhere that night. It was as though all the energy had exited her body in the explosion; She was exhausted, and the fact that she hadn't eaten that night didn't help.

Suddenly, there was a shadow hanging over her. The boy had made his way towards her, holding out his had as a gesture of goodwill. Ella couldn't help the flinch that ran through her body when she saw the movement of his hands, and she knew he noticed as well. Ella had no idea who the boy was, she didn't get a good look at him before she dropped her gaze in shame. Declining the stranger's hand, Ella tried to stand once more. Stars danced around her vision, lighting up the streets that had been plunged into darkness from the incident that had only happened minutes prior, but seemed like hours ago to the young girl. The stars only lasted for a few seconds however, because they gave way to what could only be described as a tidal wave of pure exhaustion; Ella's world went black.

Peter saw the girl try to get up. He almost ran towards her, telling her to keep down and conserve energy, but decided against it when he realised she wasn't getting very far anyways. He approached her tentatively, and held out his hand, not missing the slight flinch she gave when he got too close. Someone had hurt this girl, he thought, and the superhero instinct in him told him what to do; He knew he had to get her to the tower one way or another. Mr Banner would be able to help; Hell, Mr Stark could probably be of more assistance than Peter could give right now.

The teenage boy looked at the small girl, still trying to move from her crouched position in front of him. Peter ran through options in his head; How would he manage to get the girl to agree to come with him to the tower? Luckily, he didn't have to ponder too long, as in front of him, the girl had promptly passed out from pure exhaustion.

Spiderman felt terrible picking the girl up, knowing that if she were awake at that moment, he would most likely be in a lot of trouble, considering how he saw her handle previous threats. Peter knew that, even though the bundle of hair and flannel in his arms would be petrified to know what was happening right now, the tower would be the safest place for her, considering her current state. As he was picking her up, the teenager noticed how light she truly was; He has assumed she wouldn't weigh much, she wasn't large by any means, but the girl was barely the weight of a ten-year-old. Peter knew he had to get home, and fast. Gripping the nameless girl to his chest with one arm, Peter swung home to the Stark tower.