Zeal/Life Is Troublesome
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
(This is the origin story of Zeal Drain. It's personally my favorite of all of my back stories and was a joy to write. It explains why some of the more odd things are troublesome and why Zeal is the way he is.)
Contents |
Chapter 1
A small child sat upon a swing set, edging back and forth on it- only enough to rock onto his toes. He looked to be about five years of age, his big blue eyes half-lidded, staring at the ground in front of him. He wore just what kids that age did: a simple t-shirt sporting their favorite TV show icon and some shorts and sneakers. He simple rocked calmly but barely on the swing, eyes not moving from the small pebbles that layered the surface of the playground. His mind was almost a blank slate as he stared... nothing coming to his mind but an idle thought that quickly slipped away not too much later. He was completely unphased by all the other kids around him running around and laughing. Finally, he moved. But only with a big yawn before staring at the pebbles again. Not too much later, a boy walked up to him, smiling.
"Hey, can I swing with you?" he asked calmly.
The other boy looked up after he spoke, his features vacant, and stood up after a moment. "...You can have it..."
He gave the tired boy a confused look, then said "Okay." He didn't quite understand why the boy didn't want to swing with him, but he would swing anyway.
The child with the lazy expression then walked away from the swing at a snail's pace to the line of benches, where a few women sat. They were laughing and talking until the boy walked up and the one frowned as he looked to him.
"Is something wrong Lindsey?" she asked, a motherly concern in her voice.
He kept his gaze downward, not speaking for a second. "I'm... tired. ...Can we go home...?"
The mother looked back to the other apparent mothers and gave them a slight smile. "Excuse me," she said before focusing back on her son, leading him away from them. She knelt down before him, frowning. "Lindsey, don't you want to go play with the other kids...?" she asked, a hopeful tone in her voice.
Lindsey yawned loudly, then spoke after another beat. "No... I think I just want to sleep..."
The mother sighed and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, concern across her visage. "Honey, you've already slept for a long time today. Mommy would really like it if you'd talk to the other children."
"...I don't want to..." he mumbled. "I want... to sleep." He yawned yet again.
She decided not to fight it any longer. She took his hand in her own and stood straight before walking off to their car.
"Lisa, I'm sure he's just fine." said a masculine voice.
"No, it's not. He's always been like this. We said it would pass, John. But it hasn't. That's the fifth time I've tried to take him to the park before and every time he says he's tired and wants to sleep." said the familiar mother's voice.
John sighed, looking up in thought for a minute. "Look, maybe he just doesn't like the park."
"Then where will he like, John!?" She sighed, obviously worried. "Lindsey has a problem... and we need to get him help."
The father frowned, running a hand through his hair. "Lisa... we don't have the money. This problem... it's going to be more than just a visit to the doctor."
"This is our son, John... We can get the money," the mother said. "I can ask my mom and dad for the money or take up another job- Whatever it takes."
"Lisa..." he said, a defeated, yet concerned look on his face. He just watched her in thought for a few seconds before speaking up. "I can ask mom if she can lend us some money."
She smiled a little, then nodded. "Good..." She then had a thought, and she frowned once again. "Is our son going to be okay...?"
The father smiled reassuring and gave her a hug. "Yeah... of course. We're going to get whatever is wrong with him fixed, alright? Don't worry."
Lisa buried her face in his shoulder. "I hope so, John..."
Meanwhile, in the other room, Lindsey sat on the couch, watching a cartoon blankly... but he was hardly paying attention to that. He had his ears on his parent's conversation, but thought not much of it. They always had these talks about him.
One year later...
"Lisa, he'll be fine," said John.
His wife had been crying, and still was. "It's not going to be fine, John! They want to hold him back in kindergarten!"
"Look, maybe it will be good for him! The teachers said he needed to develop more socially. They said he kept to himself... he didn't want to ever play with anyone, let alone by himself. You know this, you heard the teacher," said the husband, trying to speak in a soothing voice to calm his wife.
She shook her head. "His medicine isn't working... it hasn't been."
"Then we'll take him back to the doctor."
"It's the third different prescription he's given us! We need to go to another doctor..." said the mother shakily, but firmly.
John nodded a little. "I think so too..."
"And... we could be trying to do more too, you know. When was the last time you asked Lindsey to just play catch or something?" she asked, letting out a small sniffle.
The father sighed, shaking his head. "I haven't asked for a while because he never wants to. When I forced him to the one time, he said he was tired and could barely throw it."
"You can't just give up like that..."
"I'm not giving up! We are not giving up," he gave her a hug, not unlike a similar scene. "We are going to get our son cured of... whatever it is that is wrong with him."
"Promise...?" Lisa looked worried still as she gazed into her husband's eyes for an answer.
"Promise."
All the while, Lindsey sat on the couch, only this time as he listened to his parents, his brow was furrowed and a strong frown was painted on his face. It bothered him this time. He didn't get why he was like that... but he didn't really want to change. He didn't have the will or urge too... but hearing and seeing his parents like that almost gave him that urge to change his ways. He couldn't think of the word right now, but to change would be very... troublesome.
Chapter 2
One year later...
"Lindsey Solstic?" asked the man in a tie, peering over his small checklist around at the children all in front of him. It was the first day of first grade.
Lindsey slowly rose his hand lazily, not even removing his elbow from the desk he sat at, way in the back. He didn't direct his look from that desk. Meanwhile, he could hear some of the kids laughing.
"Lindsey...? I thought that was a girl." "It is a girl's name." "Why does he look so weird?" "I don't know, he looks tired." "Do you think he really is a girl?"
The words made the boy cringe as he lowered his hand, closing his eyes and laid his arms down on the desk, and placed his head there as well.
The professional stern, yet kind voice spoke up not a second later. "Lindsey, you can't sleep in class."
Without moving in the slightest, Lindsey said "But I'm tired..."
"Now Lindsey, I know you are... but you need to try and pay attention." said the teacher, giving him a sincere look. "Can you do that?"
The tired boy didn't reply but instead picked his head up, staring back down at the desk again with a small sigh.
"Thank you," said the teacher, who then continued speaking the names off his list.
"What's wrong with him...?" "I dunno... Maybe he should go to the nurse." "He's just tired, stupid." "Nuh uh. He's not talking or anything either."
Cringing again, Lindsey didn't waste any time in sluggishly resting his head on his arms to rest again.
"Lindsey!"
The boy perked up at the mention of his name, only slightly to look at the teacher.
"If you do this again, I'll take away your recess and you'll need to stay in the classroom alone."
The class let out a collective chorus of gasps and 'Ooo's at the threat. So Lindsey tried once again to pick his head up... a pitiful look across his features. But not five minutes later, he was snoring, face in his arms again. He missed recess that day. It definitely wasn't the only time he did either. As he got in trouble, the children all started to slowly leave him out of things, citing him as being that weird kid. Zeal didn't mind being left out or missing recess- He never did anything there but stare at the sky or sleep anyway. But being called 'that weird kid' hurt, and there wasn't anything he could do about that.
Six months later...
Lindsey laid down on a long, black leather couch, staring up at the ceiling. Meanwhile, a doctor sat in a seat, watching him with a frown on his face. "Lindsey, if you don't try, I can't help you..." The psychiatrist, as noted on his name plate on his desk, didn't get an answer back. Just more silence from the boy.
He sighed, setting down his notepad and pencil. "Lindsey, we aren't getting anything accomplished here anymore. The times I can get you to speak without you sleeping, it's just a repeat of everything you've said before. The only way I can help you is if you try to help yourself."
"...But I'm tired..." Lindsey mumbled. "I think I just want to sleep right now..."
"No, Lindsey. You can't keep sleeping all the time. This-" the doctor stopped and sighed, shaking his head. "You've been seeing me for four months now... but I think I'm going to have to let your parents know that I can't help you."
"...Okay..." said Lindsey.
The doctor frowned heavily, a look of defeat on his face. Meanwhile Lindsey stayed staring at the ceiling, unphased by anything the doctor had said. He didn't like the psychiatrist visits. They were just reminders of all the bad things that happened at school, something he often tried to escape from. Unfortunately, his parents never gave up. They went to more psychiatrists. Two more said the same thing to hem. He couldn't be helped and that they were getting nowhere. That they didn't think that this was a psychological problem. Or if it was, the problem with him being so tired all the time was always keeping him from getting better mentally.
Hearing that still didn't make Lindsey's parents give up. They continued to hold up their tight schedule to afford everything. All sorts of medicines weren't helping. They absolutely didn't phase the boy and no doctor could understand why. So they shuffled him around again, still trying to cure the problem with his son, even though it looked hopeless. Lindsey didn't mind it all for the most part. Having to try new medicines weren't fun, as he didn't like to take pills. Otherwise, he was unphased by this all. He was too tired to really care, which was sad and continued for a very long time.
Two and a half years later...
Fourth grade and nothing was better. The only difference was that Lindsey had to endure some more elaborate tests, his parents saving up money to afford them over the years and finally getting to it around this point. Blood samples were the common ones, and they labored at that constantly, trying to find out what was wrong. Lindsey didn't know what any of it meant himself, but he had much bigger things to worry about.
"Hey Liiiindsey!" said a taunting voice a boy. "Are you going to eat your pudding pack!?" He had to worry about getting picked on now as well.
Lindsey looked up from the lunch table slightly at the boy, like a scared deer. "...I wanted to..."
"Well too bad, because I want it!" the boy laughed and snatched up the pudding and spoon in one snatch.
Lindsey went to grab it, delayed and sluggishly, then let out a small grunt when he missed.
The bully laughed yet again though. "You're such a girl, Lindsey! Why don't you go cry for some more, baby!" He then laughed more, walking to the opposite edge of the long lunch table with his friends.
The poor boy looked down, tears forming into his eyes- Crying had become almost a daily thing for him. He couldn't stand being picked on. It was the worst feeling ever, even worse than being tired all the time.
He expected the taunts from the other end of the table to continue, along with vicious hyena-like laughs to follow. "Heeeey Lindsey! Does your mommy change your diaper!?" "Why are you so tired, Lindsey!? Were you up too late playing with your Barbie's!?" "No way! She was having tea parties with her imaginary friends!" "Lindsey is suuuuch a loser!"
The horrible teasing, the relentless laughing, and just about everything in between kept Lindsey up at night, despite how tired he was. At this point, tears were rolling down his cheeks and he was sniffling.
But this time, something broke the norm and pattern of their ritualistic teasing. "Hey guys, watch this!" And asecond later, one of the bullies flicked a glob of pudding from his spoon and straight into the cheek of the poor boy.
Lindsey shakily reached up to wipe it off, crying more freely now. "St-stop it..." Almost in response, there was another flick of pudding that almost caught him in the eye, and covered part of his hand. Lindsey lowered his hand, a strained voice pleading. "...Stop... it. ...Please."
And the boys flicked another one, smacking Lindsey in the nose and under his eye. "Nice one!" They all laughed even louder now.
Lindsey let out a small cry and grit his teeth, glaring at the boys as they laughed. He then closed his eyes tight, grunting to himself to try and stop himself from crying. As soon as he felt another glob of pudding hit his shoulder, he opened his eyes with a white flash, then ran away, straight out of the lunchroom.
This made all of the boys laugh louder as a few of the teachers finally came by. They were about to yell at them... when all of a sudden, the boys started screaming, scrambling away as they stared at... nothing. The teachers didn't know what to make of this, and instead tried to get the boys to calm down. One shouted fears of bees, and another yelled about aliens. Many screamed monsters and boogeyman. The boys scrambled away for a while shivering and shaking as they continued to 'see' these horrors in front of them, as Lindsey cried and cried in the bathroom, washing all of the pudding off himself. Eventually a teacher came into the bathroom to check on the boy and took him away, while the other boys were sent home, being too shaken up to stay in school.
Chapter 3
One year later...
Fifth grade wasn't much different from fourth. One could argue that it was worse except for the kids who would avoid picking on him now. A few had gotten scared so badly they had nightmares and would think they saw whatever it is hovering around somewhere. Lindsey hadn't done that often. Only in extreme cases such as the pudding incident. As for the testing: all tests were non-conclusive. Nothing was certain except Lindsey did have a problem. That problem was completely different and barely noticeable. The doctors wanted to recommend them to a higher professional... but they simply didn't know where he should go. His parents, however, still didn't give up. They were determined, but money wouldn't allow them to find help immediately. They had spurts where they would take him for more testing, only for it to end up the same. Lindsey stayed tired, exhausted, lazy, and not very social.
Meanwhile, they tried to live a normal life. It was hard... and Lindsey's parents felt like he was being more distant to them. It wasn't that far from the truth, though. Lindsey didn't have much to talk about. He hated school and never wanted to talk about it. He barely slid by with passing grades in his class too. He slept in class and rarely wanted to work on homework and do tests. His parents were understanding in his bad grades, but they were never talked about. And as for the other things to talk about... his sleeping habits didn't change much. He was sleeping abnormally too much, so he often wasn't doing all too much but sleeping and watching TV, along with eating. He had no friends or anyone to pal around with and he was just stuck living his dull life.
One day managed to stick out though, through all the dull and bad ones. It was the day there was a family reunion, sponsored by Lindsey's mother's parents. Lindsey was forced there... all of the kids his age not really wanting to do anything with him, because they had often heard about how weird he was. Seeing it for himself... Lindsey didn't seem like a fun guy to hang out with.
But there was one person who did bother to talk with Lindsey though, as he sat there, staring down at the ground in the gazebo with a bored expression on his face.
"Hey, kiddo," said a man, looking much like an aged Lindsey himself, about thirty-five.
Lindsey looked up to the man blankly. "...Hi..."
He put a hand on his shoulder and grinned broadly. "Lindsey, right?"
The boy cringed at the touch then nodded slowly. "Yeah... It's Lindsey... Do, uh... do you need... something...?"
The man laughed, shaking his head. "Nah. I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm your uncle. Alan... but you can call me Al."
Lindsey actually furrowed his brow at this. "...Did... my mom tell you to talk to me...?"
"Nope!" he said, grinning. "I wanted to meet this Lindsey character for myself. Seemed pretty interesting."
The lazy lad let out a sigh, looking down. "I'm... really not..."
Al smacked Lindsey on the back playfully. "Come on! Don't be so down on yourself! You seem pretty unique to me, guy! I think you're really special."
A grunt escaped Lindsey's lips, and he looked up to his uncle. "...I'm... really not."
"Sure you are!" said Alan. "You just haven't seen it yet."
The nephew shook his head. "I'm... not."
Al clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You are. I won't accept no for an answer." He then forcefully put Lindsey onto his two feet after lifting him out of the chair by his arms. "But now... we got some games to play."
Lindsey groaned quietly. "I... don't really want to."
"But it'll be fun, Lindsey!" he said, smiling broadly. "I have a football in the trunk of my car. We'll throw it around a little and then calm down with a grape soda."
"Erm... thanks, but-"
"Don't be such a troublesome guy! Come oooon." Al then ruffled the boy's hair with a laugh.
Lindsey blinked, looking up at his uncle. "...Troublesome...?"
Alan smirked, then nodded. "Troublesome. There are a lot of troublesome things in this world, you know. Like... me, for example. I'm making you play catch with me when you don't want to. It's such a bother, I know. But... sometimes you should do things you don't like instead of sitting around like a lazy bum."
Lindsey stared at Uncle Al blankly for a small while, and finally smiled a little. "...Well... I guess we can for a little while."
"Great! Now let's go, Z." said Al as he started to walk off.
Lindsey started to walk, then stopped when he heard that, looking to the man confused. "...Z...?"
Al nodded, then laughed. "Lindsey. Z. Lindsey is a very troublesome name, I think. I like Z better."
Lindsey smiled weakly. "It's... a really troublesome name."
"Exactly! So let's move out." he said, giving the boy a wave.
The exhausted boy complied with a simple nod. Lindsey was awful at throwing the football. He didn't have the energy to actually throw it well. It was okay though, they mostly talked and didn't pay much attention to the actual sport. They sat down over their grape sodas and actually talked alone almost the entire family reunion, the two not actually talking much to anyone else until Lindsey's parents went looking for their son. Lindsey didn't really want to go... but he did anyway. He felt most comfortable around his Uncle Al because he actually acted like he wasn't a burden. And that... was very nice for poor Lindsey.
One year later...
Sixth grade and the teasing continued. Only this time, it was more physical. He never really told anyone about that though, as he didn't want to cause any problems or get picked on worse. He just took it quietly, with only small pleas for them to stop which never worked. If he got lucky, a teacher would stop it before it got too bad. Things hadn't changed in that area. Everything else did, though.
His parents tried and tried. They tried their best, but there was still no progress. They tried for eight years now... but their son still didn't get any better. With all the tests, all the different medication and all of the therapy... nothing was improving Lindsey's state. Finally, his parents began to grow frustrated. They argued a lot now. About anything. They were stressed beyond anything else now. Most nights, Lindsey would need to listen to them yelling and crying. He hated that too. He knew how much his parents tried for him and how much they cared about him. They never had enough time to show it, but Lindsey could tell they did. It was then where he hated both his school life and his home life. And there was nothing he could do to help his condition either. He didn't have that sort of will to do it.
One day, a decision was made though. Through teared eyes, Lindsey's parents came up to him when he came back from a day of school.
Mr. Solstic started first. "Lindsey... we need to talk."
Lindsey noticed them crying, frowning heavily and nodded slightly. "...Uh... what is it...?"
"We... can't support you," said his father, strained. "We have... tried everything for you, Lindsey. Everything. And we love you very much. But this... isn't healthy for you or for us."
Fear went into Lindsey's eyes then and his jaw dropped. "Wh-what...?"
"We love you, Lindsey..." said his mother, still crying and speaking shakily. "We... just can't keep doing this." She then broke down into a sobs.
His father cleared his throat, hugging his wife close as he spoke to his son. "We're going to send you to live with someone else..."
Lindsey cringed, shaking his head as he whispered. "No... I... I don't want to..."
"It's... it's been decided, Lindsey. You're... going to leave in the summer," replied his father somberly. "...We're sorry."
The boy began to shake, still shaking his head. "N-no... Please..."
John Solstic gulped loudly and then took a deep breath. "It'll be better for you, Lindsey. ...A new school. New people."
Lindsey began crying freely and yelled loudly. "No! I... I'm not going! I'm... I'm not!" He then ran off, heading immediately to his room.
He cried his eyes out that day. His parents did as well. They didn't try talking to him until much later, and the results weren't much different. He instead stayed quiet, accepting this. Lindsey understood why his parents did this to him. He really did. It was just depressing it had to happen like this. He became frustrated with himself after that. Why couldn't he be fixed? Why was he such a loser? Why couldn't he do anything about it? He felt like everyone in the world had turned on him, including his parents.
And when the summer came, he had to pack his bags and go.
Chapter 4
Summer ended and Lindsey had just gotten off his plane. He slept through the whole thing, of course, and was still feeling bad about this. He didn't want to leave his parents still, and though they promised they might visit... he didn't believe it. They were busy, even without the multiple jobs they had to take now. School was a relief to get through with, as it was only getting slightly worse day by day. But that was behind him now. He had to worry about fitting in at a new place. ...Paragon City, Rhode Island.
He heard many things about it. It was full of heroes... full of villains. It was a hard place to live in, but you mostly didn't have to worry if you knew the keys to live right. And with his age, he wouldn't be getting hastled very much. He wasn't too worried about it though, so he got on the plane without any fuss, then got off it the same. He let out a sigh once he stepped foot there, tugging both of his bags of luggage behind them- because he didn't want to carry them.
Lindsey looked up to see his Uncle Al, holding a small sign with a big 'Z' on it and a couple balloons in his other hand. His uncle grinned and then yelled out, "Yo Z!"
The nephew smiled a little in response. This was the only good thing about moving... it would be with his Uncle Al. He slowly trudged over to him and said slightly bashfully, "Hi..."
Alan laughed and crumpled up the paper he held, tossing it to the open waste bin to the side. He smiled to the boy and said, "How are you doing?"
"Um... I'm... okay. ...I guess." said Lindsey, frowning a little. "I don't... think I want to live here..."
"Don't worry Z... It's going to be fine! Once you get over all the creepy crawlies and people flying around it's pretty nice." Al smirked, patting the boy on the back. "Let's go catch the next bus."
As Al started walking, Lindsey followed. He frowned. "You... don't have a car?"
With a laugh, Al replied. "No. Of course not." He looked to him with a grin. "They're troublesome."
"...Cars... are troublesome?" said Lindsey, a little confused.
"Well, yeah. It's such a bother to scrape those heroes off your windshield with you hit them," he chuckled.
Lindsey chuckled also. "I... guess." He stayed silent for a little while before asking, "Um. Uncle Al...?"
"Yeah?"
"Why... did you want to take me...?" he questioned, frowning to himself as he did.
"Well.. why wouldn't I? You're a fun guy to hang around with! Not as troublesome as some of the other people here." laughed Al.
"I'm... really not. ...And I'm really troublesome. ...Or... else I would be with my parents right now..." mumbled Lindsey, staring at the ground as he walked now.
Al sighed, frowning compassionately and put a hand on his nephew's shoulder, stopping him as he held his balloons in his other hand. "Listen... Z. Your parents couldn't keep doing this. They needed someone who could take better care of you. They knew the home life wasn't good... that your school life wasn't good either. They were during what was best for you... and also what was best for them. I know your mother well... and I knew she wouldn't quit unless she absolutely needed to. Your father is a great guy too, and I'm sure he's the same way." Al smiled warmly. "But I'm going to take good care of you. And we'll do some fun things, I promise."
Lindsey looked up, still frowning. "...Are... you going to take me to get tests done? ...Or to psychiatrists?"
Al laughed, shaking his head. "No... Why would I make you do something as troublesome as that?"
He smiled a little, nodding. "Um... thanks."
With a last pat on the boy's shoulder, Al continued moving. "Yeah... well I figured- and your parents figured- that if they couldn't figure out what was wrong with you by now... then they never would. I can promise you something, though." He looked back at him, flashing a kind smile. "You're going to get better. In time. I can't promise you'll always be better... but I know you can cope much easier."
Lindsey furrowed his brow, watching him. "Why... do you think that...?"
Al only winked at the boy as they approached the bus. He let out a sigh and said "Alright... you can hold onto the balloons and I'll take your bags." He held them out for Lindsey as he went to take one of his bags.
Lindsey went to take them just as Al released them... and was too later, unable to keep a good grip on them, making them float up towards the sky. The boy frowned pitifully, wincing that he let the balloons go. It was just a reminder that he'd be a screw up loser in Paragon like he was back home.
Alan laughed as he saw the balloons fly up. He took one of the bags in his arm and nodded up at them. "Don't worry about it, Lindsey. Balloons are soooo troublesome anyway."
Lindsey just nodded, staring up on them with that same pathetic frown. "...Yeah. They're very troublesome."
Summer had ended and Lindsey began seventh grade. He was finally in junior high. It was time to start all over again. He and his uncle had a great time together. The two were always spending time with eachother and there was really not a dull day. When he got home from his job, he had something for Lindsey to do with him. Even if it was just talking. They shared stories of everything troublesome until school began. Uncle Al wouldn't lie to him, though. He told Lindsey that chances are they wouldn't be any nicer. But he had a promise that Al would do something about it if it ever got bad.
Lindsey tried to be hopeful, but it was hard. He got the same chuckles and laughs and comments when the kids heard about his name being Lindsey. He tried to ignore them though. He still tried to stay awake in class, though failing sometimes. All the while, he wished he was at home with his uncle. Because he was the only person he could ever have a good time with. Scenes stuck in Lindsey's mind often though from these new kids.
When he met a new friend, he offered to shake his hand. ...Only the boy ended up squeezing tight, rolling his hand over the joints, hurting him.
Another situation was with the girls. He ended up staring at one of their low cut shirts and skirt one day. The girl yelled out his name and asked him what he was doing. His eyes wandered to her face and he ended up blushing deeply, embarrassed to actually be looking at her. His eyes quickly wandered down... landing on her chest. She yelled again as he sputtered out something to say, anything, cringing and watching her stomach and belly button. He got yelled at again, a group gathering and laughing, teasing him. And finally, Lindsey ended up staring down at her legs. He got more yells and laughs from the crowd until the girl actually slapped him across the face. ...Girls were sooo much prettier now. But they didn't need to show it off now too.
Regardless, school was still as bad and the grades were just the same. Lindsey hated it and anticipated when he could go back home to Uncle Al. Al, however, made him do homework. He hated the homework... as it was rather troublesome. He did stay there to help him out or talk to him while he did it though, which made it much better... but he still hated it. When he told Al this, he always had the same response. "I know it's troublesome, but sometimes you just need to do it." ...That concept started to grow on Lindsey, and he started taking it as truth.
Chapter 5
One year later...
Not much had changed. Lindsey was still a loser at school and he and his uncle would spend much time together. ...Until May 23rd. The date of the Rikti Invasion. His Uncle Al had hurriedly rushed Lindsey into one of the shelters to stay while the heroes fought the invaders. Lindsey had been terrified of the threat, barely able to move when his uncle made him. But finally, when they reached the shelter, Al told him to stay there and he'd be back.
Lindsey asked why he wasn't staying, almost begging him to in his fears, and he said he needed to take care of something. With that, Al ran out of the shelter without a word, leaving the paralyzed Lindsey alone with the others, only praying for his uncle the come back.
The next day, he did. Al was winded with cuts and scrapes, but nothing too bad. When Lindsey had asked him what happened and where he was and what was he doing, Alan simply said 'troublesome things.' This led Lindsey to not even question it. He assumed he just tried to help other people to shelters... because it seemed like something great that his uncle would do. Luckily, since they lived in Steel Canyon, their home was untouched so they went back and had a big dinner. They tried to dodge the subject of what Al was doing out there with the Rikti and tried to focus on other things. Lindsey didn't have the energy to deal with most of the Rikti issues and actually slept through most of it. They survived, and that was all that really mattered.
Four years later...
Lindsey was in his senior year of school. He still hadn't changed from that in all of these years. Though what did change in this year was his Uncle Al. He seemed a lot easier to tired and a lot less willing to do things. He sometimes opted to just stay home and talk sometimes instead of planned activities they had. Lindsey never thought much of it... mainly because he still had things to do with his Uncle so nothing got that bad.
Then one day, Lindsey was at school, sitting alone at lunch, when he was called down to the office. ...He hated being called down to the office. He usually got jeers, even at this age, from his fellow classmates. It was so troublesome. But when he got there, he had horrible news awaiting him. The secretary informed him that his uncle was in the hospital. Lindsey just froze, almost in comatose for a complete minute before snapping out of it. He asked if she was kidding... she said she wasn't. It took not a second later for Lindsey to throw down his book bag and rush towards that hospital. He only went by foot, actually running but tiring out easily. He took numerous breaks, just because his body couldn't handle it. Crying, and pushing his body to it's limit, he practically collapsed by the time he actually made it to the hospital. With wavering eyes, sore body, tear stained cheeks, he limped his way into the hospital, to the secretary at the front desk and asked her if he could see his uncle. Instead, he got horrible news.
His uncle had died.
Chapter 6
Lindsey had been a complete wreck this entire time. He didn't want to do anything. He just wanted to stay home and sleep. He didn't eat, he didn't drink anything, and the only thing he did was walk down to the school and withdraw himself. He didn't have that much longer to stay in school to graduate... but he didn't want to deal with it. He didn't want to deal with the jerks or the work or the failing all the time. He just wanted to escape it all. All because of his Uncle Al being gone.
He was truly the only person who understood how to make Lindsey happy. He was the only one Lindsey could feel comfortable around. And now he was gone forever. All because of a heart failure. He wasn't that old though... he was just in his lower-mid forties. The doctors didn't understand it and Lindsey didn't understand it. He wouldn't try to either... because it was pointless. And what did it matter anyway? All that really mattered was his uncle was gone. And that his life would be miserable without him.
The only time he actually made an effort to do anything was when it came time for Al's funeral. Lindsey picked up some money that his uncle kept hidden- he didn't need it now- and went down to get a tux. The boy stood among the others in silence as his uncle's body lay in the coffin. He stared down, tears coming down his cheeks the whole time, and never once picked his head up. While everyone spoke of how great a man Al was, Lindsey simply couldn't utter a single word. He was mentioned in passing a few times as a show of his uncle's good faith in taking care of the boy this whole time, but it still didn't shake Lindsey from his frozen position.
Finally, when all the words were said and done, Lindsey only walked off without a word as they buried the body. His parents actually tried to talk to him at this point, but Lindsey just ignored them and kept walking. He definitely didn't want to deal with a discussion with them now. The only way he could get them to stop was just by muttering "Not now" to the two. And they understood and didn't pester him anymore. He needed to head over to see what his uncle had left him in his will. He assumed it wouldn't be much, because why should it? Nothing in his life wasn't good.
When he arrived there though, he was told he inherited his uncle's house and all of his money and possessions. Lindsey was confused and lost... why would his uncle give him everything? The executor then made him sign a few things and then gave him a letter that from his Uncle Al. Lindsey thanked the executor and then made his way out. He opened up the letter and began to read as he left the building and went down the street.
Dear Z,
Buddy, if you're reading this... it means I'm dead. It's troublesome, but it had to happen sometime, right? I know you don't like reading so I'll keep this short. You are a very special boy, Lindsey. You may or may not have figured this out by the time you've seen this, but I was kind of like you when I was growing up. It didn't hit me until I was seventeen though. I look normal most of the time though, right? I found a way to keep myself from being like when I was seventeen and I'm sure you'll eventually find out too, eventually. I can't just tell you though, because it just wouldn't be as special. But if you've ever had any questions about me you never had the chance to ask, or don't understand anything, just look for a box way in the back of my closet. Open it up and everything should be clear.
Now Z, the reason I wanted to take care of you so much is because I always knew what was wrong with you and I could relate. You're a great guy and a fun guy to be around, but you don't ever give yourself a chance. As you grow older, you'll find other people like me. People who will accept you for who you are and can look past your troublesome problems to find a great guy. I wish you nothing but the best, because I know you'll succeed. You'll find your zeal at something, buddy. I love you and will always love you. Remember that.
~ Uncle Al
Lindsey froze midway through the letter, only staring at it with tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't know what to make of it or if he should take it as his uncle just giving him false hope, so he just slowly stuffed it into his pocket when he heard a loud jeer. "Heeeey Lindsey!"
The boy cringed immediately when he heard it, bowing his head and walking to ignore it. It was one of his classmates from school... trying to start something on today of all days.
"Liiiindsey!" he shouted as he ran up in front of him, causing the tired boy to stop in front of him. "I heard you dropped out! Did you finally realize you were such a loser?"
Lindsey didn't reply, he just kept his head down, a prominant frown on his face.
"It takes a special kind of loser to drop out senior year!" the boy laughed, then shoved Lindsey. "I heard you did because your uncle died!"
Lindsey froze as he was shoved, pausing after staggering those few paces. Then all of a sudden, he tackled the boy to the ground, right in the middle of the sidewalk, not caring who was there. In a flurry of punches, Lindsey screamed out "Shut up! Shut... shut the hell up you jerk! I'm sick of you! I'm sick of all of you! I'm tired of having to deal with this every day of my life! Stop it! Just freaking stop it!"
Then, Lindsey pulled his hand back to make one more punch and.... a flare of energy flew around him and the boy. The boy stopped his struggling almost immediately, lying limp on the sidewalk and just staring at Lindsey scared. Lindsey, on the other hand, felt... great. ...Better than great. He felt... amazing. For the first time in his entire life, he felt like he could do anything he wanted. He had energy. His exhaustion went away completely and this surge of energy left him stunned.
And then he looked down on the boy who wasn't moving and stood up immediately. He was scared now instead of that brief moment of elation. He watched the boy and then slowly backed off, biting his lip, looking around at the small crowd of people, then decided to run away. He ran straight to home and he didn't even need to take a break. He was rushing as fast as he could, he didn't pant or wheeze or anything. He was perfectly fine, as though he was a marathon runner.
He fumbled for the keys and then opened the front door, running through without even closing it and sprinted right to the closet, throwing open the door and starting to through various boxes and knick-knacks behind him in a frantic search for that box his uncle mentioned in his letter. When he found it, he took it out to the floor behind him and threw it down, taking off the top and then pulling out the first thing he saw inside. "Energy Siphon Saves The Day!" was printed in huge writing on the newspaper clipping. ...The man in the picture looked just like his uncle in purple and black spandex and white gloves and boots. His eyes wavered as he took out the next one. "Hero Siphons the Chances of Atlas Bank Being Robbed!" He pulled out a few more, looking completely confused. More newspaper articles and then various pictures of him and famous heroes. This included Statesman, Galaxy Girl, Positron, Back Alley Brawler, etc. Lindsey gulped quietly, staring at all of this pictures and letting the realization sink in. ...His Uncle Al was a hero. And his powers were energy suction and apparently illusions also. Lindsey then dropped the picture he was holding into the box and ran to the bathroom, puking into the toilet.
Chapter 7
A few days later, Lindsey let the fact that his uncle was a hero sink in. It was hard to believe and even harder to stomach. The first thing he focused on, however, was the energy. His energy ran out after a while, and he ended up the same as he always was... but he had faith that he could do that often enough to get energy anytime he wanted it. He had studied the action shots of his uncle in battle, also reading some of the memoirs he kept to figure out just how it worked. He could have energy all the time if he really wanted. He just needed to work towards it.
The other thing he came to realize was that he would want to be a hero. His uncle was a hero... and he figured if he could do the same things as his uncle, he could be one too. Even if he was a tenth of the hero that his Uncle Al was, he would have happy with that. Besides, he was a drop out. It wasn't like there was much else he could do.
Lindsey stepped outside his home in Steel Canyon and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He cautiously stepped out onto the streets and looked around nervously. Finally, he caught the eye of a few Outcasts hanging out, showing off their powers. Lindsey gulped quietly, then held out his hand tentatively.
'Just... imagine ripping out his energy. ...Just... imagine ripping out his energy' he thought to himself. When finally, all the Outcasts gave the boy a look, and Lindsey pulled back his hand in a fist, a flare of energy flowing around one of their buddies, who fell to one knee instantly. The flare traveled in a line towards Lindsey, coating him in the energy briefly.
Lindsey shuddered, then let out a content sigh. He had energy again. It was so nice and it was amazingly great. He felt like he could do anything now!
"The hell did that guy just do!? Get that chump!" shouted one of the Outcasts, forming a flame in his hands.
Lindsey yipped loudly and then started to sprint away from them all, heading straight to his destination. Icon was close... it wasn't that far! And once he got there, he'd be fine! But dodging the various flames and ice and electricity that followed him made it rough. Getting singed in a few places as they missed with others, Lindsey began to outrun them.
As he could see the sign to Icon, he quickly opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him with a sigh of relief. He shook his head with a small groan. "Outcasts are so troublesome..."
When he looked up, he noticed many heroes moving about. Various tailors helping with outfits hurriedly, while one man stayed behind the others, shouting out things. That had to be Serge... just the man he wanted to talk to. Lindsey mustered his courage and reached into his pocket, taking out a picture of his uncle in his hero outfit- That purple, black, and white spandex attire, and walked over to the man.
He cleared his throat as he stood before Serge, patiently waiting to be noticed. Finally, Serge stopped in his balking orders enough to look to Lindsey with disdain. "You. Yes, you. What do you want?"
Lindsey cleared his throat. "Uh... hi! I, uh... I was wondering if you would possibly like to maybe make me... a hero outfit?"
Serge stared at Lindsey for a while, then bellowed out a laugh, flicking his wrist in a wave of dismissing him. "I am a very busy man... What was your name?"
He cleared his throat, then muttered. "...Lindsey."
"Lindsey! I am too busy f- ...Lindsey?" he gave the boy a strange look, making Lindsey just sigh in response. "...Right, Lindsey. I am too busy to deal with someone! Maybe you could set up an appointment with one of my many seamstresses and we will see what we can do! But until then, you may make your leave!"
The boy sighed again, holding up the picture in front of him. "Please? I even have the costume picked out and everything, I really need-"
"I said I was bu-" Serge stopped, peering at the picture interested. "...That outfit."
Lindsey blinked at the sudden change of the man. "Uh, yeah...?"
"I will create it! It's stunning, amazing! The curves, the colors! You, Lindsey will be wearing a Serge special!" he said with a laugh.
Lindsey smiled a bit, then nodded. "Um. Thank you sir... But, uh... about the purple..." He cleared his throat.
"It's wonderful! It blends so well! What of it?" said Serge, grinning.
"...I don't like it." said Lindsey. "...It's kind of, uh... You know." He paused. "...You know."
Serge shot Lindsey a look, gesturing to his own purple suit before clearly his throat, putting on his professional smile again. "You could be a trend setter, Lindsey! I believe once I make this purple outfit for you, then you will be a fashion pioneer! You'll stand out from the rest of those heroes who shop at Founder's Falls. You would look absolutely stunning in purple! I refuse to allow you to blunt my creativity as such!"
Lindsey still looked uncertain. "You think I'd look good in purple...?"
"Of course!" Serge then wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders. "You know... I see many girls looking at the boys in purple. They think a boy who wears purple is pret-ty attractive."
He looked shocked. "Really?"
With a grin, Serge nodded. "Naturally. And a man brave enough to wear purple? I don't think a single person would try to start something with him."
He looked even more shocked, grinning in anticipation. "...Really!?"
"Really! What do you say, Lindsey!?" Serge grabbed hold of the photo the energy sapping lad carried and smirked. "Let me create your wonderful ensemble?"
Lindsey then released the paper and smiled happily, flashing Serge with a thumbs up. "Yeah!"
Serge clapped his hands together. "Excellent!" He then snapped his fingers as one of the girls passed and yelled. "Lindsey! Please measure this young man here."
The girl then looked to the boy and smiled as he blushed back to her. "What is your name sir?"
"...Lindsey," he muttered embarrassingly.
Once he had his costume- which ended up being a full day affair- he was ready to get his Hero License. Outfitted in the spandex costume, he took a deep breath and looked for some Outcasts just hanging out. It wasn't as easy to sap their energy this time, as they saw the spandex and immediately sprung to attack. Lindsey dodged as much as he could, and eventually managed to drain the energy from one of them, then ran as fast as he could to the tram.
When Lindsey got there, he waited for the Yellow Line to open the doors so he could enter. His next stop was Atlas Park: Birth place of heroes in training. And when he arrived, he walked his way to City Hall, dodging any various heroes that almost ran into him. He waited in line until it was his turn to talk to the registrater. Finally, when he was next, he let out a deep sigh and stood up with a meek smile on his face. "Uh, hi."
The register was staring at his computer as he asked his first question. "What is your name?"
Lindsey sighed, frowning. "...Lindsey Solstic."
Thankfully, the man didn't make a commotion about it and just typed into his computer. "Hero name you wish to register?"
He looked up in thought, trying to remember the name he figured out. Heroing might be where he found his zeal. And he mostly got that when he drained the energy from people. So.. "Zeal Drain?"
"And origin?"
"...Um, mutation...?" Zeal guessed. What else would it be?
"Powers?"
"Um, I can make illusions and things, I guess. ...And drain energy."
"Mmkay. You are a Controller classification," said the man. "Smile for me."
Zeal blinked in surprised then noticed the man tap on a small mounted camera and smiled to it. A second later, he had his picture taken.
"Stay here for one minute," said the registrater who acely typed things into the computer, then finally, a card came out of a small printer device. The man took it and handed it to Zeal. "Here is your hero license. Good luck... Zeal Drain."
The hero smiled a little at that, looking down at his card. "...Zeal Drain... Alright! I'll go and, uh... fight crime then."
"Talk to Antonio Nash. He's downstairs. Good bye," said the registrater who craned his head past Zeal. "Next!?"
Zeal nodded and walked away, still staring down at his hero license. It was nice. He actually felt completely different now. As he scanned it, he still saw no mention of Lindsey Solstic on it. It was like he had a new identity. So the boy looked up in thought and decided it right there. He wouldn't be that loser Lindsey Solstic anymore. He'd be a great hero. From now on, he'd be... Zeal Drain.
Chapter 8
The newly born hero, Zeal Drain, walked down the halls of the building until he reached Antonio Nash's office. He then timidly waved to the man. "Uh, hi."
The man gave the hero a warm smile and waved him in. "Hi there. What's your name?"
"Li-" He stopped, furrowing his brow at the notion for only a second before replying. "Zeal Drain."
"Well then, Zeal Drain... I'm Antonio. Antonio Nash. Nice to meet you," he said as he extended his hand to the boy.
Zeal just sort of stared at it a little while then looked back to Antonio with an awkward smile on his face. "Shaking hands are troublesome-But it's still nice to meet you!"
Antonio gave Zeal a weird look, then lowered his hand. "Right... Well Zeal, we're going to start you off with something easy. There are some Hellions hanging around Atlas Park. We'd like it if you took some of them off the street for us."
The hero quickly turned pale. "...Um. I thought you said something easy..."
Nash perked a brow, nodding slowly. "Yeah...? Hellions are probably our lowest threat to the city."
"...Don't... they... have... guns?" asked Zeal, frowning.
"Well, yeah."
"...Guns... hurt."
"...Yeah...?"
"...Is there anything easier?" asked the boy, scratching the side of his head with a grunt.
Antonio stayed quiet, watching Zeal for a smile while before shaking his head. "Look, Zeal Drain. There are a bunch of kids your age, sixteen... seventeen who say they want to be heroes. Sometimes they're not ready for it though. They get these powers and they get confused or... they say they owe someone or want to be just like another hero they've been saved by." Nash took a moment to sigh, keeping his eyes on Zeal, focused and concerned. "Sometimes they've been through a tragedy and think this is really what they want, but when they get here they realize... it's a scary thing to do. Zeal Drain, if you want... you can get your license voided, revisit this in a few years, and see if you're ready now. See if you can handle this. There's nothing wrong with walking away here."
Zeal had gradually bowed his head when Antonio spoke to him. He stayed silent as he absorbed what the man was saying, and finally spoke after a few seconds when he finished. "I'm nineteen..."
With a frown, Antonio nodded, watching him compassionately. "I'm sorry. The case isn't that much more different though."
Without another word, Zeal contemplated to himself in silence. Eventually, he picked his head up and gave a firm nod, though his face showed concern. "I'm... I think I'll give it a shot."
Antonio smiled a bit and nodded back. "Okay... then take about ten Hellions off the street and come back here and we'll go from there, alright?"
Zeal sighed worriedly and haphazardly nodded again. "...Yeah. Um, see you then." He then turned and walked away, not bothering to listen to Nash say good bye. He was nervous about this to care about much else.
As Zeal walked past all the statues of Paragon heroes past, he couldn't help but think all sorts of thoughts. Noone would ever make statues of him. He'd never be as good as them. He'd never be able to make a difference. He was too nervous to beat up some piddly thugs, how could be do anything of worth? He was just going to fail, again.
But as he stepped off of the plaza and started to walk towards the street, he thought more to himself. Zeal tried so hard to figure out how to use his powers. He looked over his uncle's notes and newspaper articles and studied pictures just so he could do this. He was ready, and he knew that if he tried he may be able to do this. He hoped, at least.
He walked up to the first gang of Hellions he saw, but kept a good distance away. They were just laughing and hooting about something, he couldn't quite hear. But... this had to be it. He could beat them. He just needed to concentrate and focus and he'd be able to do this.
Zeal narrowed his eyes on the gang of Hellions and aimed a hand towards him. He took a deep breath and... a man spouting flames rushed towards the group and started to set the thugs ablaze. Zeal watched the guy for a small while then sighed, moving onto the next group of thugs. That guy had it wrapped up just fine.
When he got to the next group he held out his hand again, just watching those Hellions. He closed his eyes tight and muttered a small prayer before he thrusted his hand back, the energy from the one Hellion escaping as he crumpled to one knee. The energy flowed through Zeal and he shuddered, then grinned instantly! He did it! He then he was quickly taken out of his good mood with a few bullet shots sent in his direction.
Zeal dodged as best he could as he back peddled. He replayed the images in his mind franticly and re-read all of the notes he had. Finally, he focused on one of those Hellions and focused hard. He then triggered something in his head... he could almost feel it snap inside his own mind and 'escape' into his target. The Blood Brother held his gun up to shoot, then dropped it to the ground with a cry, holding his head.
The other Hellions turned to look at their friend but kept pursuing Zeal. He didn't stop running backwards until he tripped over a rock and scrambled back to his feet. He kept dodging as he could and tried to focus. Wounds on their bodies... total blindness. One by one, the Hellions began to fall to the ground. The illusions were doing their trick and his energy kept him standing long enough to take them down. With a relieved sigh when the last one fell, Zeal plopped back on the ground, laughing a little.
"I... did it," he said to himself, staring up at the sky. "...I did it." The boy felt... accomplished. For the first time in his entire life, he really felt accomplished. As the Hellions all began being teleported into the nearest jail cell, Zeal was grinning at the clouds. He wasn't worthless anymore. He could mean something to the world now. He just simply felt... good for the first time since his Uncle Al died. After a small while of soaking in this feat, he stood, ready to report back to Antonio Nash.
He'd was ready and willing to be a hero.
"I quit!" screamed Zeal as he stumbled out of the warehouse, tears filling up in his eyes. "I'm... I'm through being a stupid hero!" he yelled to the nobody who was standing around.
He sniffled and pulled out the few arrows that were stuck in his body, tossing them to the ground, as well as trying to wipe off all the puke that had been spewed on him. He had burn marks under those from certain Hellions and various other scrapes, bruises, and cuts all over his body.
"I... I can't do this," he muttered. "Being a hero is just... too freaking troublesome!" he screamed turning and kicking the door behind him. Each time he had tried to clear that warehouse full of Vahzilok, he was beaten up earlier than before. He had taken too many trips to the hospital already. Most of those trips happened because he was running into things, trying to dodge others and ending up failing. Under his costume were bandages abound. His body was just too broken right now to do anymore. He got onto his comm and muttered to Antonio. "...I give up," and then he turned off his comm and went to walk back home.
