"Yeah, except even if you can't be everywhere at once, you can still be somewhere. Helping someone. So if you can't save other people, fine, but you save the ones you can. You save the ones in front of you and go places that are going to put people to save in front of you in the first place."
He struggles to explain the conflict that's going on inside him.
"I have that." He points to himself. "I still have that, man. That hasn't gone away. And I still have the powers that would let me do it."
The spark. The whatever it is that makes people put on a goofy spandex outfit and shield them from bullets.
The problem is the rest of him hasn't caught up yet. He has 13-year-old's mind, and because of the strange arrested development this place caused, only a 12-year-old's coping skills. He hasn't even really managed to push it to having a 13 year-old's coping skills like he should have - everything got too hard, went too fast, and hurt too much. You can develop healthy ways to copy with stress and trauma when your brain is getting barraged by trauma all the time. All it does is make you develop unhealthy ones.
"I know I'm not ready. That I - I can't be like all of you in how I deal with the bad stuff. With getting hurt." Because getting hurt is an inevitable part of a vocation that involves self-sacrifice. "I'm not strong enough to deal with that yet and I know... I know that's normal. That I'm not supposed to be. Not until I'm older."
He still gestures at his chest at the whatever it is that's in there.
"But it's still here. The... the 'I-need-to-do-something.'" He talks it about it like it's some kind of solid, tangible thing, like an organ. "And it's not just me wanting to be cool and grown up, and wanting to be seen that way, it's... I saw so many scared people and I made them less scared. It's about them."
Superheroing had started cool, and had been about him wanting to be seen as heroic, but the selflessness, the wanting to help, it's gotten as genuine as it gets.
"What do I do with this?" He taps his chest. "For however long it takes me to be old enough to do this again? I can't be everywhere at once? Okay, fine, but how do I live with being nowhere at all? Not helping anybody?"
He tears up just a little bit.
"What am I supposed to do? Just go back to school and learn geometry and play the tuba in marching band or something?"
no subject
He struggles to explain the conflict that's going on inside him.
"I have that." He points to himself. "I still have that, man. That hasn't gone away. And I still have the powers that would let me do it."
The spark. The whatever it is that makes people put on a goofy spandex outfit and shield them from bullets.
The problem is the rest of him hasn't caught up yet. He has 13-year-old's mind, and because of the strange arrested development this place caused, only a 12-year-old's coping skills. He hasn't even really managed to push it to having a 13 year-old's coping skills like he should have - everything got too hard, went too fast, and hurt too much. You can develop healthy ways to copy with stress and trauma when your brain is getting barraged by trauma all the time. All it does is make you develop unhealthy ones.
"I know I'm not ready. That I - I can't be like all of you in how I deal with the bad stuff. With getting hurt." Because getting hurt is an inevitable part of a vocation that involves self-sacrifice. "I'm not strong enough to deal with that yet and I know... I know that's normal. That I'm not supposed to be. Not until I'm older."
He still gestures at his chest at the whatever it is that's in there.
"But it's still here. The... the 'I-need-to-do-something.'" He talks it about it like it's some kind of solid, tangible thing, like an organ. "And it's not just me wanting to be cool and grown up, and wanting to be seen that way, it's... I saw so many scared people and I made them less scared. It's about them."
Superheroing had started cool, and had been about him wanting to be seen as heroic, but the selflessness, the wanting to help, it's gotten as genuine as it gets.
"What do I do with this?" He taps his chest. "For however long it takes me to be old enough to do this again? I can't be everywhere at once? Okay, fine, but how do I live with being nowhere at all? Not helping anybody?"
He tears up just a little bit.
"What am I supposed to do? Just go back to school and learn geometry and play the tuba in marching band or something?"