Implied abuse and alcohol warning

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"Don't follow me."

Rebound heard his soaked shoes hit the snow over and over as he stumbled away. He didn't care where. Just away. His head has cluttered, thoughts of what happened with Flint, roaring pain worsened by the cold, and worry of death tangled like red string and formed knots. The pounding in his head and heart took ahold of his hearing and drowned out anything else. Sparks of lightning, only worsened, impairing his vision as well.

Rebound dashed down an alleyway to use the shadows as a cover to hide, but he couldn't shake the feeling of how all to familiar it felt. Just eleven years ago, when he was only fifteen, he ran from the cops after stealing someone's bag. When he ran to the other side of the street through the alley an amateur hero found him. Back to an electric fence, the hero punched him in a panic, and so he was given his powers. Fear flooded his head as the green sparks grew more uncontrollable and violent. He desperately wandered, unsure of what to do, the dark alley stretching for seemingly forever. In the alley was one other person, staring bewildered with a cigarette in his hand, no older than nineteen. Rebound's vision blurred as the bolts of lightning crawled up the brick walls and around himself. Every part of him seared with pain as he stumbled towards the kid, try so desperately to get him to leave, to run, maybe even to call for help. Yet, his sight was clouded with green electric bolts to the point in which in it blinded him, and when he reached out one final time to the boy, he heard a bloodcurdling scream. Collapsing to his hands and knees, he strained to see if the stranger was okay, yet nothing but green and bright light filled his view. Why was this happening now, so many years after getting electrocuted? Why was he burning in agony? Was this the end? He thought he was dead for sure, doomed to die just as he had began, a swirl of pain and grief, but most all, regret. Regretting all he had done. He was sure this was the end, that he'd be closing his eyes for the last time as he soon grew weak. He wonder what Flint would think. Would he care? Would he carry on without him? Darkness called as the pain subsided and consciousness slipped away from his grasp. Finally, Rebound shut his eyes and was whisked away, blacking out completely, surrounded by a storm created by his own faults.

...

It must have not been all that long before he was awake again, stirring gently as he strained his eyes. The lightning had dissipated, leaving only small bolts left, spiraling around his limbs as they too, slowly faded away. His body ached head to toe, but his eyes burned the most, squinting through the darkness towards the witness to see if he had survived. When Rebound finally saw the man, he rushed over. He was teetering weakly, staring into space, horrified, and stumbled in any direction he was falling. It wasn't easy to see, but there was a huge scar, scattered like lightning, draping from the right side of his face to his arm, and likely farther. He looked as if standing would be much too difficult now, tipping over into the villains arms.

"Woah! Hey buddy, it's okay," Rebound, shaking with fear, muttered to him, "What's your name? Can you tell me your name?" The boy's voice was dull and monotone, as if he were void of life, eyes looking just beyond Rebound when he replied, "Julian. My name is Julian Aphotican Marewell." Julian slipped out of Rebound's grasp and sat gently on the ground, staring into nothing, eyes half open. "Julian, are you alright? I'm going to take you to the hospital, okay?" Rebound trembled, tripping through his words as his heart pounded with fear. Why am I acting like this?! he thought to himself, I'm supposed to a villain, I'm not supposed to care if I hurt someone! Why does it matter so much to me?! 

Julian shifted his gaze to a nearby rat, slinking from the dumpsters and scattered trash. He held out his hand, welcoming the rodent, unmoving otherwise. When the rat stepped into his palm, with a blank expression, his clutched the creature, quickly and violently. His arm shook with force, eyes widen just a little past what they were. The rat squirmed, kicking, biting, squeaking, trying anything to wriggle away from the boy. Then, it slowed, growing weaker as life slipped from it. When it had finally died, it seemed it hadn't perished from the tight grip around its frail body, but rather the rat had simply, expired. 

Light seeped more and more from the alley, making Rebound's nervous pacing increasingly difficult. What do I do? I can't take them to the hospital, I'm a villain! They'll... He stopped pacing and instead tapped his foot rapidly. I don't want to bother Flint... Not again. He stopped suddenly. Cassie! He pulled out his phone, but it was waterlogged and fried. Shit! I'm screwed. He looked back at Julian, who was faced at the wall. Rebound spoke to him, "Julian, can you--" The boy stood suddenly, "Julian's gone. I've taken care of him. Thanks for all your help, but I won't be needing you any longer." He slumped forward, lifting his arms with his wrists and speaking void of emotion. He dragged his feet past Rebound, shoving him back as he went. He turned back once at the edge of the road outside the alleyway, expression unclear but generally smug, with his scar clearly visible.

"Ciao." 

The light flickered out.

Rebound squinted, searching for him. Nothing. He peered outside the alley. Nothing. He was nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell just happened?" Rebound muttered quietly to himself. The light returned, dimly lit and flickering. That was completely normal when I got here... He thought, breathing heavily. Shock caught up to him, his heart racing. His muscles tightened, triggering his abdomen to roar with pain again, as if it was being stabbed and electrocuted. He stumbled backwards into the alley and hit his back on the bricks behind him, sliding to ground.

It's nothing. I can handle it on my own. I don't need to go crying every time something bad happens to me. He thought, wincing, barely able to think coherently, I'm fine. He wanted to scream but was struggling to breathe. I'm fine. He thought again, almost yelling in his head.

Rebound desperately tired to take his mind off things. All he could think of was his early childhood. And so he did.

Sixteen years ago

Age Ten

Alan laid on his back, staring at his ceiling again. He hadn't eaten in hours. He heard his father fiddle with the lock he installed backwards on Alan's door before barging in. "Are you done being a brat?" He yelled angrily. Alan sat up, "I didn't mean to break it, I'm sorry--!" He was cut short again by the distant yell of what was likely his father's latest girlfriend, "What's taking so long?" His father sighed and yelled back, "She's being difficult again." He turned back to Alan, "You're going to stay in here all night. If I see you out, I'm using the broken glass you made to remind you why you're being punished." He slammed the door and locked it again. Alan heard him shout for another drink distantly. And he was gone. Alan flopped back down on his bed. Out of everything his father said, the threats were all too normal, it was the 'she' that upset him most. He flipped over and buried his head in his pillow.

There was nothing to do in his room. It often felt cold and empty, only ever filled with the frequent rage and hate that his father provided. Alan so desperately wanted to leave, even if briefly. He sat up and gazed at his window. It wasn't locked because it would be too far of a drop from the second story to the ground for him to leave. He curled into a ball, peering over his knees. Surely there was someway to get down...

Alan got closer and looked downwards. Then to the side. A tree had grown awfully close to the window and looked sturdy enough climb. He shifted the window open quietly, inhaling fresh air. It was terrifying to risk something like this, and worse to be caught doing it. He sat in the windowsill with his feet dangling outside. He changed his approach several times before finally getting onto the branch shimmying down it. Once he hit the trunk, he climbed to the ground, shaking. Freedom was horrifying.

Present day

Rebound dropped his head to his knees. He cried. He didn't want to cry, but he did. If he hadn't ever left, he would've never been here now.

Everytime he cried the torture worsened. And everytime he moved, he was jolted with pain. His muscles were frozen tight.

In the distance, between tears he heard footsteps hit the ground heavy like they were running. The snow of snow being kicked up drew closer and closer. He looked up and he saw who it was. He struggled to say anything, all he could manage was a soft, pained "help."

And the reply was silence.

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