“What the hell, Storm Surge! You could have killed someone!” Sheriff Stall crowed, pointing at the unconscious body on the ground.

“But I didn’t, that’s what matters.” Storm Surge, the vigilante sometimes a hero sometimes a villain, walked away from the body with barely open eyes. They didn’t look at the sheriff or the body, simply walked away. The sheriffs face turned red, steam had to be coming off of him in waves.

“No, it’s not. Freeze, put your hands up. Your under arrest, Storm Surge.” A gun could be heard, it being cocked and the trigger shaking from the sheriffs hands.

Storm surge, stopped in their tracks, there hands held up beside there head, they turned around slowly.

“I’m bringing you in, I understand if you want to hide your identity from reporters but you can’t hide it from law enforcement any longer.” The sheriff said, walking closer to the outlaw.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The vigilante warned, a voice modulator evident with how deep the voice was but just under that the sheriff heard the persons actual voice. The sheriff knew it sounded familiar but they couldn’t place the voice.

“Do what?” The sheriff asked, taking a step back.

“Touch the hood. It could shock you, won’t kill you, but definitely hurt.” They said, their hands still held beside there head, palms facing straight ahead towards the police car.

The sheriff avoided the hood but grabbed one hand at a time, putting each in cuffs.

“Does it make you feel better sheriff, to see me in cuffs? Is it a security thing?” The hooded being questioned calmly and they were guided to the back of the car.

“Storm surge, you are now under arrest. Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law...” he finished when Storm Surge was put in the car, he shut the door and got into the front.

“Dispatch this is Sheriff Stall, I’m bringing in the wanted criminal Storm Surge.” He said into the large walkie-talkie looking machine.

When there was no reply, he repeated himself more loudly and clearly.

“Um Sheriff, if you don’t mind me cutting in for a moment.” Storm Surge continued once the sheriff looked towards the back seat, only seeing about half his face. “They won’t be able to hear you. Storm Surge, remember. Not going in.”

“Son of a-“

“Language Sheriff.” Storm Surge chided gently, snickering at the reversal.

“Being two fully grown adults, how about we handle this differently. How about I curse and you stop acting like a child?” The sheriff grunted, facing forward again.

“Wow, you never stop saying that do you?” Storm Surge reminisced.

“What are you talking about?” The sheriff turned back again, Storm Surge held in a laugh at the sheriff looking like a cartoon character, turning one way then another then back again just to repeat the process until satisfied.

“Well, it’s just you being a dad and all, you usually say that to your kids don’t you?” Storm surge chuckled.

The sheriff was out at the word ‘dad’ and had Storm surge by the collar of their suit at the word ‘kids’.

“How do you know that?” He yelled, face to face with one of the most dangerous and wanted criminals in the nation. If not the world.

Storm Surge just laughed.

“Do you remember that child your wife put up for adoption? That one that never cried, never ate, never slept, basically everyone thought there was something wrong? Fundamentally something seriously wrong? Well, that little child, that little boy left the home they were put in. Pursued a life, developed powers, became a super something. Hero or villain depends on your perspective doesn’t it? Batman thought Superman was bad at times. Superman thought Batman was bad at times. Yet the public for the most part thought of them as heroes. Perspective father. My perspective is that my parents abandoned me and yet here I am, doing all that I can just to be someone you care about.” The sheriff let go of Storm Surge, backing away in horror. “Hmm...perspective.”

The sheriff couldn’t speak, he couldn’t even look at Storm Surge.

“I’m so sorry.” He finally said, a single tear escaping his overfilled eyes, flowing over his cheek and down his chin.

Storm Surge looked at his father and noticed the disheveled hair, the dark circles, his broken voice, the quiet but controlled sobs.

“I forgive you.”