The family he had built for himself burned before his eyes. Charred corpses falling apart at the seams, to mangled and deformed to tell who was who. Red blood ran in rivers around cracked, blackened skin, staining the equally burnt tarmac around them.
The social workers took him away from the home he had shared with them his whole life. Away from everything even remotely familiar. A fresh start, they said, to help you move on. He didn't want to move on.
He lost everything he'd ever truly cared about. They were the reason he became a hero. They were the reason he kept fighting, despite everything that was thrown at him. Bad grades, sleepless nights, ridicule from the classmates he'd just saved, hate from the town he suffered for.
He had no reason to keep saving anyone. They didn't deserve it. They were cruel and uncaring towards him and his family while they were alive, but now they were understanding and compassionate.
He hated them.
He'd never hated anyone more.
Not even the man they were taking him to. Vlad understood. He was alone too. He was a half ghost who had lost everything, but had been able to gain something better.
Just like he hoped to do.
But even Vlad couldn't move on from what he had lost, considering his behavior towards Danny's mother.
But now she was dead and he had nothing to hope for anymore.
Their hopes had both been blown away in that explosion.