Inspired by watching www. youtube .com/watch?v=T9MuEA2eF8c&NR=1 from Return of Captain Invincible.

"Oh, my God! Amanda! Amanda, come quickly. I think this man needs help!" cried a woman's voice.

Mr. Midnight opened his eyes to find a woman about forty years of age standing over him. He blinked as his other senses kicked in. He became away of the sound of a city around him, the feel of the hard ground beneath him, the smell of blood, and the pain in his left temple. He raised a hand to his head and felt something wet, warm, and sticky. He drew his hand away to see blood on his fingers, his own blood.

He slowly sat up, painfully aware that his body had been badly treated, most likely beaten.

Another woman, about fifty, reached them.

"Oh, my God! Sir, are you all right?"

"I think so."

The women helped him to his feet, despite his superior height and greater weight.

"Thank you."

"I've never seen you before. You new around here?" the young woman asked.

Midnight nodded.

"Yes. Where am I?"

"New York City."

That wasn't new to him, but from what he could see, hear, and smell, it wasn't the New York he had known.

"What year is it?"

The two women looked at him strangely, but the younger woman seemed to take pity on him, probably due to his condition, and answered him.

"It's 2009."

"Have either or you heard of Captain Invincible?"

They nodded.

"He died years ago."

Midnight's mind sang out, greatful not to have the pesky Captain stopping him.

"May I ask your names?"

"I'm Tanya Drake," said the younger woman, who stood at about 5'10" with blond hair and blue eyes.

"I'm Amanda Taylor," said the older woman, who stood at 5'8" with graying auburn hair and green eyes.

He gave them a charming smile.

"I am Jarrod Midnight," he said, saying the first name that came to mind to go with his last name.

The two women looked at him.

He looked to be in his very early sixties, stood at a hulking 6'5", had dark, iron gray hair cut short and slicked back from his forehead, and deep brown eyes.

"So, again, thank you for your help."

"Will you be all right?"

"I'll be fine, Miss Drake."

"Well, take care."

The trio parted outside the alley.

Midnight had gone about twenty running strides when he heard Tanya yell.

"Help!"

He whirled to see a man running off with her purse. In a split second, the villian was charging. He slammed into the mugger and delivered a vicious roundhouse punch, knocking the man out cold. He handed Tanya her purse back.

"I believe this is yours, Miss Drake."

"Yes. Thank you, Mr. Midnight."

Midnight smiled, though his body cried out to him in protest for his surprisingly noble act.

"You're welcome."

*************

Midnight managed to get into his old weathouse to find all his things as he left them, only dirty. He cleaned everything off and went to take a shower. Before stepping into to the shower, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and winced.

He was covered with bruises. No wonder he had been so sore.

The hot water soothed his injured body, and he stood under the spray, his mind on his noble act of stopping the thief. He'd had nothing to gain from doing so yet he had done it anyway.

Why?

He had never helped anyone without having something to gain by doing so.

Something was changing in him, and he wasn't sure what it was or what to do about it.