The Superzero.

School had been tough. I'd fallen asleep not once, not twice but three times. On the second time, I had actually snored in the middle of my class and Mike gleefully informed me that he'd be telling that story for years. Thanks, mate. Go right ahead and make my life even more freaking fantastic.

I tried not to think about how much I hated life when I walked out of school at the end of the day. People were still staring freely at my facial injuries but rumours had spread like wildfire about how I had attained them. Admittedly, I'd heard some pretty funny ones ranging from a fishing trip gone horribly wrong to an extreme skateboard tournament, also gone horribly wrong. I didn't even skateboard so where they got that from, I had no idea.

Scowling while Mike chuckled at my side, I said goodbye to him at the gates and started my journey home. The mobile phone which had been silent all day finally rang and I very nearly didn't answer it. Just knowing how crazy my Dad would get when I arrived home pushed that thought from my mind though.

"Hey. What's up?" I sighed, reaching for my bag to retrieve my outfit.

"Son, we need you to get home as soon as you can, okay? We need to talk." my Dad's voice crackled through the speaker.

My hand froze on the zip of my bag. This was...different. Usually, my Dad barked an address down the phone and hung up on me but I could still hear him breathing heavily into the receiver. I cautiously returned my bag to my back and gripped the phone a little tighter.

"Dad, what's going on? Aren't...aren't we going on a mission?"

"No, son. Not today...maybe - maybe not for a while." he replied. I heard my Mum talking softly in the background but couldn't make out what she was saying.

"Dad - "

"Ben, we'll see you when you get home, alright? We'll talk then." and with that, he hung up and left me staring at the phone in my hand.

Stashing the mobile away in my pocket, I hitched up my bag and started to run. Trees and houses blurred as I passed them by. Before I could register what was going on, I was outside my house and strolling through the front door. Yeah, I guess my power finally came in useful when I actually needed it.

Without hesitation, i dropped my bag in the hallway and hurried into the living room, finding both my parents there wearing solemn expression. Oh crap. This can't be good, somethings happened. What if they're getting a divorce? I tried to think of any times when my parents clashed or when they argued. I couldn't think of a single one.

"Ben, sit down." Mum said, barely smiling. She gestured at the settee opposite her and my Dad and I stepped over nervously. I stood in front of them, unsure of what to really do with myself. My brain seemed to be short circuiting and my Mum pointed at the settee again. My knees gave way and I crashed down onto it. They looked at me and I stared right on back.

We both appeared to be waiting for the other to talk.

"I - " my mouth felt dry so I cleared my throat and tried again. "I don't get it, guys. What's going on here?"

All of a sudden, my Mum starting tearing up and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. I shot a quick, worried glance to my Dad but he wasn't paying attention to me. He was looking at my Mum with sad eyes.

"Mum? Dad? Really. I want to know what's happened. You're freaking me out." I told them, my voice rising a little.

"Oh, Ben! I went to the hospital today when I found a lump - a lump..." Mum broke off and dabbed at her leaking eyes with a tissue. "I found it at work, I - I didn't know what to do."

I looked between the two of them. The words sounded alien to me and I screwed my face up, trying to make myself understand what she was telling me. Her mouth was moving again but I couldn't hear a thing, I could see my Dad gripping her free hand tightly. Shooting a look down at my clenched hands on the settee, my knuckles had turned white and for the life of me, I couldn't let go no matter how hard I attempted to pull them away.

My voice sounded strange in my own ears; low and quivering. "I'm sorry, I - " My head was shaking, either disagreeing with her or refusing to believe.

At this point, my Dad could see that I was falling apart before them. I scratched the back of my head roughly, abruptly standing up and jolting. I could barely control my own limbs. My arm juddered as I made to leave the room but my Dad's commanding voice stopped me. I turned back to my parents again - they looked terrified. My Dad was telling me to sit back down but I shook my head and took a step towards the door.

"Ben, sit. Now." he ordered, his arm wrapping around my Mum's shoulders. "We have to talk about this and...and the future."

I acted like I hadn't heard him and stalked out of the room, up the stairs and into my bedroom. Here, away from my parents miserable faces and the news of my mother's illness, I smashed a fist into the wall. Bits of debris fell from beneath my skin and I ground my hand harder onto the wall. More plaster fell off. I felt a little satisfied but something told me I'd have to destroy the whole house, the street and maybe the rest of the city before I was calm enough to go back down there again.

I heard a soft knock on my door and I expected my Mum to peer in. It wasn't. It was Dad.

Quickly brushing the dust from my knuckles, I stepped in front of the wall to hide what I'd done, knowing he'd go bonkers if he found out I was purposely vandalising my bedroom. He snapped the door shut behind him and gestured for me to follow him over to the bed. He sat down at my computer desk, patting my mattress beside him.

"Come on, Ben. Come talk with your old man." he said gently. The tone was all off - this kinder Dad wasn't what I was used to. Where had his hard voice gone? What had happened to his freaky I-will-end-you stare?

So startled by this drastic change, I followed his demand and lowered myself uncertainly on my bed. Jesus, the effect he had on me. I wasn't even fully comfortable in my own room with him around.

He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and pulled up his mouth into a sort of half hearted smile. His closeness brought his features to my attention; he actually looked his age for once. His face looked sunken, or saggy even. I hadn't noticed in the living room but the whites of his eyes were speckled with red, looking almost as if he'd been crying.

"Ben, this thing with your Mum...it's not fair, is it?" he said, rubbing the back of neck tiredly.

I shook my head and he saw this as enough for him to carry on.

"All the good she's done, all the people she's helped. Why does she have to be the one to suffer? Why does she have the prospect on an early grave?" he grumbled, staring me dead in the eye as if I'd said Mum deserved it.

God. It wouldn't half shock me if he said he'd wish it were me instead of Mum.

"Thing is, kiddo, the scum on the streets are the real people who should be punished. They're the ones who need to be stopped." he told me roughly, clamping a hand down on my shoulder. "And I want you to do it."

Silence. I waited for my Dad to say 'Ha-Ha, I was only joking with you, boy.' but it didn't come. In fact, he was nodding now, even shaking my shoulder as if a brilliant idea had struck him. I let him jostle me about a bit, his fingers biting into my skin even through my shirt. I think I was going into shock or something.

"That's it!" he whispered, as if he daren't believe it. "That's bloody it! You're going to keep up the hero duties while I take care of your Mum."

Okay, I finally found my voice again. "WHAT!?"

He wanted me to go on missions - by myself? Was he aware of how completely awful I am at being a hero. Has he not witnessed all the times I've been punched, kicked and hit in the face with a FREAKING SHOVEL!? And now he wants me to do it all by myself, to take on both his and my Mum's jobs and deal with the bad guys alone. Hopelessly alone.

I tried to tell him as kindly as I could.

"No freaking way, Dad."

His eyes narrowed at me and my mind immediately jumped to survival mode. It was telling me to get the hell out of there but with my shoulder still getting crushed by my Dad's vice-like hand, I knew there was no chance in hell I was getting away from him. His stare sliced into me and cut my resolve into tiny, pathetic pieces.

"Oh yes, you are. You're doing it and you'll do it to help your Mum, if nothing else." he insisted. "I'll help you look for jobs but out there - " he pointed out my window. "You're going solo."

My hand twitched on my leg. I wanted to punch him, and scream, and just run out of the house and never come back. I wanted to just say 'No, Dad. Not this time.' but I couldn't get my lips to form the words. My hand twitched again and I forced it under my leg so I wouldn't do anything I'd regret later. Instead of acting out the scene I was playing in my head, I breathed in heavily and stared at the floor.

"Okay, Dad. I'll do it."

His grip loosened a little on my shoulder and he slapped my arm with his other hand. I wondered if he could feel my anger radiating from me. I swear I could almost see it rolling away towards him in waves.

"Well done, Son. Well done."