19. Gray
It was odd. Sitting there on the bench in the park, on top of the hill, overlooking the pond, the playground, the road and in the distance the school, it's top floor and roof rising higher than the trees. Behind the school, the bleachers, the football field, the fence and then another road. There were people about, walking in the park, children were playing, running after a brightly colored ball, screaming. Everything looked normal.
The siren of the ambulance pierced through the bubble he had placed himself in, the safe place he had created for himself to retreat into if the world became too much for him. Enhanced with some of his ghost powers, it was almost a real bubble. Sound was muffled in it. He could watch the world without participating. As if it wasn't real.
Problem was, inevitably he had to come out again at some point. He couldn't stay in his bubble forever. He'd have to go find his friends, go home, talk to his family, pretend nothing had happened, that everything was fine, except for... well.
The siren of the ambulance was annoying. It came closer now, as he knew it would, rushing down the road next to the park, into the direction of the football field. A minute later, he could see it rush past the entrance to the park, turn right next to the school and then disappear behind the trees. It would go on, he knew, until it reached the entrance to the football field, and then would probably keep going, not caring in the least they were ruining the grass, causing deep indents in the carefully kept field. Not when every second counted.
Not that it would do any good.
He remembered the red suit, how it had contrasted with the green grass. The cracked visor. The stillness of her body. The stunned disbelieve of the onlookers as the Red Huntress had crashed to the ground, her hover board unable to catch up. He had hung high above her, holding the thermos that had captured the ghost an instant before. The ghost he had captured instead of saving her.
Too much noise entered his bubble. Too much brightness, too much color. He increased the trickle of power he fed into his shield, strengthening it some more. Nobody could see it but him, a slight greenish glow surrounding him. If he used a shield at full force, it was visible to the human eye. But not this. If somebody were to approach him – which his stony expression didn't encourage – they would feel a momentary prickling, and probably notice a strange cold that surrounded him, but that would be it. Sam or Tucker might have a better idea, used as they were to his powers, but even they couldn't really know what he was doing. The didn't understand, not really. They only saw the cool powers, the ease at which he used them. They never saw the downside. They couldn't.
He was responsible. Whatever happened in his vicinity, all the ghost fights, the property that got destroyed, the people who got hurt, it was all his fault. He was the hero, he was supposed to save everybody, and that was all people ever saw. That or they thought he was a menace to society and should be destroyed, taken apart molecule by molecule. Lately, he was beginning to think those latter were right.
The siren had fallen silent now. He blinked, staring into the direction of the school. It was quiet in his bubble. He could still see the children screaming at their game down the hill, their mouths moving, happily shouting at each other, but he no longer heard them. The brightly colored ball had turned dark, rolling over the gray grass. Inside his bubble, his bench had a slim cold white layer on top of it.
He liked the quiet. He didn't like the cold much, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Other than dissipating his bubble, and that was not an option. Because if he did that, he would let the world back in, and at that moment, he could do very well without the world. No, his bubble was fine.
It had been either capturing the ghost, about to fire a massive ecto blast at the entire football team, including a certain star football player who always stuffed him into his locker, or saving Valerie, falling down from her damaged hover board, the thing no longer following her commands but randomly swerving through the air. He had thought he could do both.
Which, of course, had been impossible.
While watching her fall down to the ground with terminal velocity, knowing he was too far away, he would never make it, something clicked inside his head. Before, it had been a game. No longer. His powers, his fights, caused somebody's death. Somebody he liked, a little too much maybe. Somebody he could have envisioned himself going out with. Somebody who, at one point, could have been his girlfriend.
Bright red suit. Green grass. Too much color.
More power to the shield. The sky turned pale, the too bright light of the sun got a sharp edge on it. Icicles appeared on the bench. He wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging himself. The ambulance didn't reappear. There was no need to rush anymore. Valerie had all the time in the world.
The world turned gray.
Edit 12/10/2008: Go read inukagome15's 'Good and Evil'. This is sort of based off of that.
