Send the Dispatch (Dispatch x fem!reader)

Chapter 6: Collateral

Then a voice rich and calm fills your ear. "Ah, [Y/N]. I believe I may be of assistance?"

Relief hits you so fast it is dizzying. "Phenomaman-thank God. Head to downtown Torrance, immediately!"

"I will make haste." He replies

Less than a heartbeat later, a deafening hurricane of wind blasts through every channel, static screaming, heroes cursing, your earpiece practically vibrating off your skull. Someone groans like they have just been slammed by a sonic boom.

You wince hard.

"PHENOMAMAN! Please-take your finger off the earpiece or double-tap to mute!"

There is a startled inhale.

"Oh-my apo-" His voice cuts off mid-apology.

You exhale through your nose. Hard.

You hack into the nearby surveillance cameras and pull up every live feed you can access. The images are a chaotic symphony of destruction. Buildings reduced to jagged skeletons, glass raining like shards of ice. Civilians scream and scatter, their shadows dancing across the cracked pavement. Pom Pom and another hero frantically guide the injured to safety, dragging them through dust and debris, their movements precise yet desperate.

And then there is Brickhouse. She is trading blow after punishing blow with the villain, each strike sending tremors through the street. Cracks spiderweb beneath her feet. You can see her muscles straining with every motion, sweat glinting on her brow. Her resolve is iron, but even iron bends under pressure.

You bite your lip until it bleeds, your stomach knotting tight. You hate this part, the watching, the waiting. The helplessness. Feeling the terror from a thousand miles away and knowing there is nothing you can physically do.

Then, the villain's attention shifts.

He presses some devices embedded in his arm. A violent light bursts from him, radiating outward like a miniature sun, illuminating the wreckage in harsh, flickering streaks. The air itself seems to vibrate with power. He roars, muscles bulging, and rears back before slamming his fist into the ground.

The shockwave tears the street apart. Asphalt shatters, stone cracks in a spiderweb pattern, and a jagged crater opens beneath Brickhouse. Her eyes widen, a flash of disbelief crossing her face, before she plummets into the abyss.

"Brickhouse? Brickhouse, do you copy?" You shout, voice hoarse, knuckles white on the console.

Silence.

Your mind races. Switching cameras, you try to track the villain as he spins toward the remaining heroes, a deadly predator sizing up his prey. 

"No!" you scream, jumping to your feet, chair rolling back as adrenaline floods your veins.

Then, a blur, impossibly fast, slams into the villain from above. The impact sends dust and debris flying in all directions. The ground shakes, metal groans, and for a heartbeat, you cannot breathe.

When the dust settles, he's gone.

In his place stands Phenomaman, his chest heaving slightly, his stance calm and controlled. His eyes scan the battlefield, making sure every civilian is safe before he even looks back at the villain, who now lies sprawled, winded and disoriented.

You slump back into your seat, the tension in your body unspooling in a rush of relief. The fight is not over, but at least the immediate threat has been neutralised.

"Oh? Was I not to take out this villain?" Phenomaman asks over comms, his voice tinged with genuine confusion.

"No-no, you did great. Excellent job. Thanks for arriving so fast," you breathe, words rushed and shaky, your chest still pounding from panic.