A/N: I think I put too much pressure on myself to finish what I was working on yesterday, that I did absolutely nothing and now I’m frustrated with myself. But I didn’t want to have another missed post, so here’s a really quick Word Prompt.
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I was five the first time I met a superhero, though I didn’t know it then. I had been grocery shopping with my grandpa–more like, clinging to the cart so as not to get separated from my grandpa as he went grocery shopping–and something caught my eye. I don’t even remember what it was now–probably something silly, like a fallen penny or maybe the colorful packaging of some candy.
Regardless of what it was, I remember that I had let go of the cart. Just for a second, it felt; I had looked away from my grandpa just for a second. And yet, when I turned to look back: he was gone.
I panicked, unsurprisingly. Felt a sudden bite of abandonment, and the sharp sting of betrayal. My grandpa had left me!
Of course, now that I am older, I realize he had just moved the cart around the corner of the aisle. No doubt, if I had walked a few steps, I would have spotted him immediately. But at that time, I was young and afraid and out of my depths.
I didn’t cry–only because I had always been a quiet child–but I did clutch at my shirt in confusion, unsure how to face the world all on my lonesome.
But, as this anecdote goes, I was not alone. A very tall man–or at least, he seemed very tall at the time, given my own childhood size–in the grocery store’s green uniform apron knelt down in front of me, putting himself at my eye level.
“Hello, there, miss” he said to me, voice soft and soothing, “Are you okay? Is there anything I can help you with?”
And I must have laughed, a little watery and tremulous, but a laugh nonetheless. Because here was this adult talking to me the same way adults talked to my grandparents, like I was an adult, too.
“My name is Brian,” he added, pointing at the name tag pinned to his apron.
“Hi, Brian,” I whispered back, “I’m Leanne.”
“I see your cart has misplaced itself, Miss Leanne. Would you like help in finding it?” He asked, not missing a beat.
I nodded, leading him to unfolding himself back onto his feet.
“And my grandpa,” I added, because I decided I could forgive his transgression if it had been an accident, “He’s old; I have to watch out for him,” I continued, because my grandma had said so.
Brian nodded, as if what I said had been perfectly legitimate.
It only took a few steps to round the corner where the cart and my grandpa–only just realizing I was not holding on to it–were. The ordeal was over in less than five minutes, and yet…
I remember he didn’t reach a hand out to me, but he did hold out one of his apron strings for me to grab–even though he had to undo the knot in order for me to reach it. At the time, I hadn’t thought it was strange. Truly, if that were the last of it, I wouldn’t have recalled that little detail.
But, of course, that was not the last of it. Unfortunately, that was the last time I met Brian because, not two weeks after that incident, the vigilante Griever was killed in action.
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A/N: So Brian Odell, aka Griever, is an OC of mine whose super power doesn’t quite make sense? Basically, he has the ability to absorb injuries/pain and then transfer it to someone else with a touch. But he sort of has a max capacity, meaning that if he doesn’t get rid of the injuries/pain soon then they’ll either manifest on him instead… or on the next person he touches, whether or not he wants it to.
Hence why he doesn’t reach out to hold Leanne’s hand.
Leanne Peridot is yet another OC of mine who may or may not also be a superhero in the future? It’s complicated. There’s time travel involved…
JackSGreyson Says 