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“How's sadist school?” Milagro asked as soon as Jaime picked up.
“Dentistry school is going great, squirt,” Jaime replied, rolling his eyes.
“I just don't know why you want to stare into people's gross mouths all day when you're a freaking superhero!” The way Milagro whispered the last part indicated there were other people around.
“Hey- secret identity, remember?” Jaime muttered. “Besides, dentistry is cool, and Blue Beetle is...it's great, but it's not what I want to do with my life.”
[I SHARE YOUR SISTER'S VIEW. HERO = GOOD.]
“Oh great, now you got Khaji Da started. Dude, we've talked about this. Being a dentist helps people too.”
“How is the Scarab?” asked Milagro. “I bet school is really easy when Khaji can give you all the right answers.”
That had actually been an issue when Jaime first started college, but he'd made sure to set those boundaries.
[IT IS INEFFICIENT NOT TO USE MY MEMORY BANKS TO SUPPLEMENT YOUR OWN]
This time, Jaime detected the ticklish frequency that indicated Khaji Da was joking.
“Oh my God,” he sighed. “I'm done talking to both of you.”
Milagro cackled and hung up, and Khaji Da's laughter echoed up Jaime's spine.
Balancing dentistry school with superheroing wasn't easy. Jaime found himself having an unsettling number of “family emergencies,” and hoping he didn't burn through the good will of his professors. If the League or any other heroes specifically asked for his help, he would go, of course, but when it came to smaller scale and local issues, it was a constant struggle between wanting to help and wanting to graduate.
Jaime was in his pharmacology class when the Scarab sent him an alert. [NATURAL DISASTER. FIVE FATALITIES. MORE FATALITIES LIKELY. ]
Jaime bit his lip. There were twenty-five minutes left in his class. He could finish it and still help with whatever issue there was. It wasn't that long.
On the other hand, twenty-five minutes could be the difference between life and death for some people.
“Is there anyone closer?” he asked. “Are the local authorities mobilizing, at least?”
[YOU ARE CURRENTLY CLOSEST. LOCAL AUTHORITIES DOING WHAT THEY CAN. IT WILL NOT BE ENOUGH.]
It never was. Nothing ever was. Still, he hesitated. His future, his dream was important too. Khaji Da didn't say anything while Jaime thought-- another one of the boundaries they'd worked out.
To his left, Jaime's classmate Lucia got a text. She checked her phone; her face went white and she abruptly stood up, shoving her laptop into her bad and leaving her water bottle behind as she nearly ran out the door.
That decided things. It was possible, of course, that it was an unrelated issue that made Lucia leave like that, but Jaime couldn't stop thinking about other people getting texts like that, hearing about their loved ones in danger, now. He quickly typed up everything that was on the board as he asked Khaji Da for more information.
[EARTHQUAKE IN ACAPULCO, MEXICO. MAGNITUDE: 7.2. HEAVY STRUCTURAL DAMAGE. AFTERSHOCK 85% LIKELY TO CAUSE MULTIPLE BUILDING COLLAPSES. AFTERSHOCK PREDICTED IN 32 MINUTES.]
Jaime cursed. His professor looked at him sharply, and Jaime apologized as he rose from his seats, collected his things, and left as quickly as possible.
Five minutes later he was on his way to Acapulco, as quickly as he could fly.
“I'm here to help,” Jaime said breathlessly. He'd stopped in at what Khaji Da had identified as the emergency control center. “What can I do?”
Luckily, he'd been Blue Beetle long enough that at least a few people there had an idea of what is abilities were and how he could help. It was always embarrassing when he had to tell someone that he couldn't do something, like run at superspeed or levitate rubble. It was equally embarrassing when people assumed his powers were insect-based, and he had to tell them that no, he couldn't talk to beetles, but he could make a sonic cannon appear from seemingly nowhere.
“There's a medical building two streets away,” said a man with thinning hair. “Not a hospital, but, you know, specialists and such. There are people are trapped inside, some of them sick or injured, and they can't make it down to the ground floor. The building is very unstable; any more aftershocks could be incredibly dangerous. We were just making a plan on how to get everyone out safely.”
The Scarab had been running scans since they arrived; it recited figures and probabilities to Jaime as it projected a model of the building across his vision.
“I can do it,” Jaime said, trying to project the same confidence he saw in Superman but still, even after all these years, didn't entirely feel. “I can fly in through the window so there's no need to worry about stairs, and drop them off at the hospital. That lets you focus on helping other people. We have two hours until another aftershock, so hopefully together we can make sure everyone is safe.”
The men nodded.
“Thank you, Blue Beetle,” the man with thinning hair said.
“No problem,” replied Jaime. “I'm here to help.”
There were six people on the eighth floor, scans showed. Two people showed signs of a mild concussion, and one was in danger of hyperventilating. Four of them were over sixty five.
There were three people on the tenth floor, and one of them was in serious need of medical help; their leg was trapped under a piece of machinery that must have fallen during the initial quake. The other two people appeared to be trying to keep that person calm and comfortable, but it was clear that was where Jaime needed to start.
He found the window closest to the injured and broke through it as carefully as possible.
“I'm the Blue Beetle!” he called. “I'm here to rescue you.”
The hospital was packed. Jaime's eye-catching bright blue armor got Esteban and his crushed leg seen to sooner than he might have otherwise, but there were so many people, all in need of help, and not enough doctors.
But that wasn't Jaime's job. His job was to get the rest of the people out of that building, and then to help out wherever else he could.
He worked for hours, through two more aftershocks, rescuing people, doing his best to stabilize buildings and houses, finding lost family members and lost pets. It wasn't as hectic as some emergencies, but there was always something to do, someone to help.
A little after midnight, Jaime's armor locked up, just for a second.
[REST NOW] said the Scarab.
“What?” Jaime blinked. “I'm fine. Don't do that.”
[REST NOW] Khaji Da repeated. [THERE IS NO FURTHER NEED FOR YOU HERE. YOU ARE TIRED. REST OR I INITIATE DRASTIC MEASURES]
“Drastic measures” was code for “tell your parents.” So far, Khaji Da had only initiated them twice, and Jaime didn't want there to be a third time. Besides, now that he'd stopped moving for more than thirty seconds, he could feel fatigue setting in.
“All right,” he sighed. “Sometimes I think encouraging you to be more human was a mistake.” He could feel the Scarab's smugness. “I'll tell Señor Alvarez I'm leaving, and then we'll go home.”
“Home” these days was technically the small Austin apartment paid for by the Wayne Industries scholarship Jaime didn't even remember applying for, but in his heart, especially at times like this, home was his parents' house in El Paso.
Jaime was reaching for his keys when his dad opened the door.
“I saw you on the news,” he said with a smile. “You looked busy. How are you, mijo?”
“I'm all right,” replied Jaime. There was only the slightest hesitation between the two words. He stepped in and hugged his dad. “Mostly I'm tired.”
“Well, your mom and I are so proud of you,” his dad said. “She has an early shift tomorrow, so she went to bed early, but she wanted me to make sure you know that. Come in, I'll get you something to drink and you can get some rest.”
If there was one thing Jaime didn't doubt, it was that his parents were proud of him. Even so, every time they told him was a new layer of warmth and love around his heart.
“I love you,” he said, already half asleep.
“I love you too, Jaime. Let's forget that drink. Come on, let's get you to your room. In the morning we can have another talk about school and superhero life balance.”
In the morning, Jaime would wince at the prospect of another discussion of whether or not he was neglecting his schoolwork, but for now, he was tired from a hard day's work, and happy to be home.