Not Always the Way we Want

Slowly opening his eyes, Edgar notices the video he was watching was already over. With a yawn, he stretches himself and checks the time. One hour of rest was a bit overkill for him but not much he could do about that anymore.

Walking downstairs, he sees his mother had already left the sink, not a single dirty dish in sight. Since his father had probably taken her somewhere, the black-haired man sees no reason to stay around doing nothing.

Going back to his room to grab his wallet and a black button shirt, leaving it open, the white of his undershirt making a nice contrast with it, he goes out for a walk.

The Sun was a bit off its noon peak but the heat was just as present. Still, the rather chill wind made for a good excuse to be more comfortable with one's clothing. The small clouds dotting the sky also helped greatly.

Going to one of his favorite spots, the park, Edgar notices his neighbors going about with their afternoons. Some toddlers playing in their front yards, some accompanied by their parents, a couple of teenagers having fun their own way near a window. The usual.

Further down his trip, he walks over to an ice cream stand made out of white-painted wood. Behind it, two little girls, neither of which were older than 10, were wearing matching blue with purple overalls. One of them seemed cold if the gloves she was wearing were anything to go by.

Once the pair spot their costumer, they smile joyfully. "Good afternoon, Mr. Edgar!"

Now close enough, he chuckles. "You don't have to be so formal with me, Trixie," He then looks at the girl next to her. "And you don't have to keep the ice cream box cold at all times, Aura. You'll catch a cold if you keep doing that."

Funnily enough, she sneezes at the mention of the illness. If she has it or not, the parts present ignore it.

Cleaning under her nose with her index, Aura smiles. "It's okay, Edgar. Mom and Trixie said I can do it for a whole hour now!"

The man in black shows his surprise with the slight raise of his eyebrows. "Well, just don't overdo it."

"You'll have the usual?" Trixie asks while reaching for a styrofoam box covered in tinfoil under her. Inside, large pots of different flavored ice creams could be found.

"Double it," is his answer as he takes five silver-colored bills with the number 1 in their upper edges, which put a smile on both girls' faces

She brings one of the pots alongside a medium-sized plastic cup to the counter and fills the recipient to the brim with the white with red spots dairy, Edgar's favorite flavor. On top of it, a plastic spoon and a small chocolate biscuit.

"Pleasure making business with you," Trixie beams while banking the cash.

"First sale of the day?" Edgar asks before savoring a spoonful of the dessert.

"No, actually," Aura says. "For some reason, more people have been coming to buy our ice cream, especially on Saturdays."

"Yeah," Trixie continues. "To the point where I have to make extra just in case."

"Good to hear it. Well, see ya," With another spoonful, Edgar turns around and continues his way to the park.

Fortunately (or not, it really depends on how you see it), Edgar doesn't waste time with his ice cream, finishing it in about three minutes. Throwing the disposables in a trash can on the way, he thinks about what Aura said about more people coming to buy their ice cream specifically. He enjoyed the ones Trixie made more than pre-made ones but he couldn't tell if others thought the same.

Not thinking too hard about it, he continues his walk while thinking about other things. Soon, the all too familiar park comes into sight. Now that it wasn't early morning, the place was more alive and enjoyable to be in.

Used to the scene, the black-haired man walks over and sits on a bench facing the interior of the park. Smiling to himself, memories of his childhood come to play in his mind.

One in particular was of him and Derick playing tag. With them was a boy that looked exactly like Derick. The difference, outside of clothing, was in his deep blue hair. It was so unnatural it almost seemed like it was dyed. In the distance, Baxter and some other men were having a conversation.

Getting distracted, he barely notices the petite girl sitting to his side.

One could guess the new figure to be a year or two behind Edgar. Her hair was long and fell to the sides in pigtails. Her hair was sea green, its color fading the further it went to its edges. Her blue jean shorts showed a fair bunch of her thin legs and her shirt hanged loose, exposing the bra strap tightly strapped to her left shoulder. To boot, dark blue shoes covering white socks and a smartphone in her hand.

What surprised him was the fact that she was peeking at him through the corner of her eye, a smile on her face. As soon as she realizes him noticing her, she gets slightly startled, dropping her staring and giving attention to her phone.

Not wanting to be rude (and to try and clear the rather awkward feeling he was having), Edgar tries to introduce himself. "Um, hi?"

Still smiling, the girl turns her head to look at him. Edgar was used to seeing pretty girls here and there but seeing one from so up close, having what seemed to be her undivided attention, caught him completely off-guard, forcing him to avert his gaze for a second.

Of course, he was being silly so he looks back almost immediately.

"Hello," She says, her voice matching her appearance and age, something Edgar notices.

What he also notices is the fact that she says nothing else for almost a minute, forcing both of them into a staring contest. He, not being used to this situation, loses it.

"So..." The older of the two tries to kill the awkwardness. (Again.) "Are you new here? I don't remember seeing you around."

Before she could verbalize what she was thinking, one of her eyebrows rose. Enough of an answer for him. "Not really. I've been living here for a year now," She then finally looks to the park, which Edgar internally thanks and mimicks. "And sorry if I scared you."

He shrugs, to which she giggles.

Deciding he had enough of thinking about the past and being awkward around girls, Edgar prepares to leave. Now standing, he spares her one final glance. "Well, gotta go. See you around, then?"

"See ya..." Right after saying that, she giggles again. Having no idea why, he decides to keep going.

"That was... something," he thinks.

Now, the reason why our wanderer in black wasn't going back home is that he was looking for something specific to do. And would you look at that, he found it not long after leaving the park. And by not long, I mean literally one minute later.

What, you ask? Trouble.

The echo of a loud scream was heard across the street. Opposite to the park was a row of stores, among them a bakery. Near its entrance was a shady-looking adult wearing a hoodie to cover his face. While running , a dirty rag sack full of something was in his left hand and it was likely to be valuable.

On his other hand... Well, it was more like something you would see coming out of an old movie. Instead of your average appendage made out of flesh, the thing was metallic and had blades replacing the fingers.

All analyzed within seconds. Edgar didn't have many to spare.

A big smile came to his face, the excitement taking over, the adrenaline being pumped into his blood. Without thinking much about anything else, the young adult sprints after the thief, who immediately realizes the chase and tries to run faster. To no avail.

Seeing the gap between them shortening way faster than what he anticipated, the shady man tries to block his chaser's path with whatever he could reach for. Two trash cans were easily skipped and a parking meter met Edgar's foot.

Now within range, the black-haired chaser grabs the man by the collar and halts his momentum, tossing him behind himself. Not giving him time to breathe or think, he stomps the thief's right wrist, gaining his yelp, and forces his knee against his chest. His right hand locks the enemy's left wrist against the ground, leaving only his neck and legs free. Edgar's left fist was cocked back and ready to knock his target unconscious if needed.

"Let go of me!" Struggling, the hoodie-wearing man barks and wiggles around with as much force as he could put. What didn't make sense, neither to him nor to a good chunk of the spectators (one wondered girl in particular) was how could someone who barely got out of high school submit a full grown adult.

Still smiling, it giving the thrill he was feeling away, Edgar says. "Easy there. The cops will let you go. Inside a jail cell."

"NO! I'm NOT going back to prison!" As a last ditch effort, the man tries to concentrate as hard as possible, a vein on his forehead swearing it was going to pop if someone dared touch it.

Then, the appearance of the man's hand starts to spread to his arm, slowly gaining the same dangerous metallic look. Slowly, it seemed like he was gaining the upper hand, closing in on his freedom, only for Edgar to let the moment take the best of him and force his opponent's arm even harder.

Perhaps too much, if the crack he heard was anything to go by. If it wasn't, the floored man's ear-piercing scream definitely was.

"Oh..." Facepalming hard enough for it to be heard, he slowly releases his prisoner and pulls his phone, calling the police. The cheers he was getting from the crowd weren't helping him focus. "Dad won't let me hear the end of this."

"I wonder what makes you think that," At the sound of the all too familiar voice, the young adult's blood freezes. Looking behind him, a grinning Baxter and a disappointed Marie. Edgar could only chuckle nervously, it not being contained and escalating into another fit of laughter.

...

Back at home, the family of three were all in the backyard. Marie was watching the scene before her unfold while pinching the bridge of her nose and frowning her eyebrows.

The scene in question being Baxter exerting some invisible force onto his younger son's entire body for ten whole minutes. The younger of the three was so heavy he could barely stand on one knee, the grassy floor below him giving up under the pressure.

A sweat bead rolled down the grey-haired man's forehead. He was getting tired and it was showing. Still, he thought he could keep going. His wife didn't.

"Don't overdo it, honey," At her voice, Baxter eases the weight he was exerting against his son, eventually dropping it altogether.

Having room to breathe, Edgar doesn't dare stand up, afraid of what his father could throw at him if he tried to. Not that he had to worry about that for long since his mother helps him off the ground by his ear.

With pained yelps, his body complies, it too tired from the earlier punishment to show resistance. Not that he was enough of an idiot to try resisting. Baxter can't help but laugh. Funnily enough, his son was also smiling (definitely more out of nervousness than anything)

"You think sending someone to the hospital is something to be proud of, young man?" Marie angrily says.

"N-No! I don't! I was just- Ow! Ow!"

Pulling harder and closer, she practically shouts "No excuses! I didn't raise you to be a delinquent like your father was."

"I'm here, you know?" Still smiling, Baxter asks. "What should we do with him?"

Finally letting her son go, she stares him down. "No more of these little adventures of yours for a month!"

"But mom! I help people!" Exasperated, Edgar starts to emphasize his words with hand gestures. "We already talked about why I do this, remember?"

"Yes, I do. I also remember us discussing how you would be careful to not go too far. That's why we call the police when stuff like this happens. They know what to do!"

"But..!"

Feeling the need to interrupt, Baxter yells. "Shut up!" Gaining his son's silence, he continues. "You're in the wrong for breaking that man's arm. He's the one doing people harm, not you, and we also talked about that.

"Now, what if he decides to press charges against you? Proof? I bet someone from that crowd was filming. Reason? You don't have an official license to use your Powers publicly. If he does it? A major headache to you, and by extent, us."

Finally done, Baxter takes a second to catch his breath. His wife continues from there. "Listen, son. I know you just want to help people and I'm not saying you should stop but you can't go out there and be so reckless like that. What if he was armed and reached for it? Someone could have gotten badly hurt. You could have gotten badly hurt!"

"I-" Edgar passes his hand through his short hair, a deep breath to help him collect himself. The mere thought of saddening his parents like that made him angry with himself and forced him to look down to her feet. "I know, mom. I'm sorry for letting you down."

Having his head raised by his chin, he sees her warm, reassuring smile. "It's the first time you go this far so please, be careful."

Finishing the tense moment with a hug, almost all the pressure the young adult was feeling vanishes. Almost.

Being done with their talk, Edgar is sent to his room to think about everything that was said and done. Marie goes to her own room to rest.

Baxter goes somewhere else entirely to make a few calls, making sure his son's little fun time wouldn't come without any real punishments.