[i][b]One Bad Day. 
[/b][/i]

Three simple words, and yet those same words had taken on a whole new meaning for Alan Walker. One Bad Day to turn his entire world upside down yet again. The only other time he remembered having as bad a day as this was when his deadbeat dad walked out the door on him and his Mom, and that had been almost a decade ago now. 

Honestly, if you asked him which of these two days was worse, he'd likely be unable to give you a straight answer. 

Anyhow, what made this day extra horrible was it had started out so innocently. Alan had rented a table at the campus for him to sell his baked goods and maybe make a little extra on the side to buy his Mom something nice, since she had been working long hours at her job recently and felt she deserved a little spoiling. 

Things were going well, with the young man quickly amassing a tidy profit and a number of folks hoping he'd come to the campus so they could have his pastries all the time. Alan didn't make any promises but he said he'd think about it. 

Of course, all goodness and cheer died a brutal, horrific death the moment that blasted bomb went off. 

In no time at all, Alan's world became a hellscape of colored gas, panicking civilians, and the screams...dear lord, the screams. He swore that for as long he lived he'd never get those despair-filled screams out of his head. 

The lad did his best to use a piece of cloth to keep his mouth and nose from inhaling the gas long enough for him to get to safety. However, he got caught up in the stampede of people also trying to escape and was quickly knocked to the ground, dropping his only means of protection, and thus was exposed. 

He didn't remember too much after that, partially due to the fact his whole body was suddenly in agonizing pain. His eyes watered and were itchy, his mouth was as dry as the desert. Heck, he felt like he wanted to throw up but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't. 

At one point, he recalled someone in a hazmat suit approaching and kneeling by his side, telling him that everything was going to be alright and then calling out to the other hazmat men they "had a live one over here!" and then he passed out....
_________________________________

The few times Alan regained consciousness through his stay in the hospital, it quickly became clear that while his misery had lessened somewhat, it hadn't stopped entirely. More than once, it was as if his whole body was rebelling against itself as he would experience moments where his body would shift between being extremely hot and bitterly cold. 

What's worse, it was clear from the groans of pain around him that he was far from the only poor soul in here. 

It was selfish of him, for sure, but Alan could feel himself briefly reverting to that little boy who just wanted his Mom to hold him and say that everything was going to be alright...even though in his heart he knew it would never be. 

Finally, after nearly three days of agony and torture, just when he was ready to give up...the pain stopped. His bodily functions came back under his control and he felt...fine. Better than fine, actually. He not only felt strong, but he was acutely aware of every little thing going on around him. 

Even the doctors had no valid method of explaining what happened and, after several tests, ended up just chalking it down to a mix of a strong immune system and his quick thinking having made it so his body only inhaled a small amount of the deadly gas. 

Alan accepted that answer, though a voice in the back of his head told him they were looking for any excuse they could to get him out of there, and considering the number of sick people in here, he couldn't really fault them. 

Now, after what felt like an eternity, but had only been three days, Alan Walker was released with a clean bill of health to the arms of his Mom and allowed to go home...
_____________________________________

You'd think that would be it, right? Well, if it were, we wouldn't have a story, would we?

No, Alan's worries were far from over, as would become evident after he finally got to return home and have an actual shower. As he walked back to his room to grab a clean shirt to go with the pants he was wearing, he passed by his mirror, only to stop at picking up something...off with his reflection. 

Stepping back in front of it, only one thought was going through his mind right now:

[i]....Holy crap, when did I get abs?[/i]

Sure enough, Alan was sporting some rather impressive abs on his upper body. Like, the kind you could probably grate cheese with, that took years of physical conditioning to have even a slim chance of getting. Even his arms were looking fairly toned and muscular. Nothing crazy, but enough that one jab from them could send a poor schmuck to the E.R. pretty quickly. 

Alan Walker certainly wasn't what one would call "unhealthy" but he wasn't a big fan of the gym so to suddenly have this happen to him was...surprising, to say the least. 

At that moment, something else also became clear to him: He wasn't wearing his glasses yet he could see everything around him in perfect detail. 

He didn't have time to ponder all this for long as his Mom suddenly called him to eat and, knowing he couldn't hide this from her, proceeded to sit down with her and explain the situation as best he could. 

To his surprise, she came over and hugged him tightly, "No matter what you look like, Alan, whether you sprout wings and fly, or gain a second head that spits acid...you are and always will be my son, and you will always have a Mom who loves you."

After this week from Hell, Alan could take no more and let himself break down, crying....
________________________________

The next couple of days were actually sorta peaceful, almost too peaceful. The lad's Mom had more or less forbidden him from going out, only letting him do so long enough to get a breath of fresh air and then come right back in. He was stuck watching television and surfing the web on an old laptop Miss Walker had bought off a friend of hers about a year ago. 

What he saw only made him feel even worse. The entire area surrounding the campus had been cordoned off, hundreds of people were sick and dying in every local hospital, folks were running wild with conspiracy theories ranging from the government wanting to test a new gas-based weapon to this being the prelude to an alien invasion. 

Considering Alan's current situation, the "alien invasion" one honestly wasn't looking that far-fetched. 

Perhaps one of the only things keeping him even relatively sane was experimenting with his new powers. He found he was strong enough to lift the washing machine up on its side and he could move fast enough to catch his Mom when she slipped and her mug AND catch all the coffee that tried to spill out of it. 

Finally, he could take no more and, on the third day of being stuck inside, Alan pleaded with his Mom to let him out. 

"Just let me go to the end of the street and back, please?" He begged, hands clasped together, "I'm only going long enough to grab a few odds and ends and I'll be right back. I promise."

"Alan..." Miss Walker, who was basically an older, female version of Alan with a few work-related wrinkles though still looked lovely in her own way, sighed in dismay and folded her arms, "I just don't think it's a good idea. Besides, we got enough food to do us for the time being." 

The young man massaged his temples, "Look, I...I can't stay locked up in here all the time or I'm going to go crazy. Also, you got a job to go back too. Don't think I didn't notice that electricity bill underneath the couch cushion." 

At being caught in the act, his Mom winced and looked away uneasily, "Y-You saw that, huh? Well, I..." She finally lowered her head in defeat and went to the window, throwing the curtain open in time to see a police car roar down the highway, "Are you positive you want to go out there in...that? I only just got you back and now..."

"Mom..." He came over and put an arm around her shoulders, "I promise I'll come back to you...but we both know that a lot of people out there right now weren't nearly as lucky as I was. I can't just hide while the city goes to hell in a hand basket..." The lad stared down at his clenched fist as the skin rippled briefly, "Especially when I can do something about it."

"That's not your responsibility, though..." Her words came off as rather hollow though, and she appeared to notice this as she went over to a nearby drawer and pulled out a ski mask before bringing it over to her son, "But if you insist on this foolishness, at least wear this. The last thing we need is the police coming to knock on our door again just cause you decided to do their job for them." Despite her words, she wore a soft smile.

Alan smiled back and pulled her into a tight hug, "Thank you, Mom...I'll be back before nightfall. I promise." 

Stuffing the mask in his jacket pocket, he headed on out the door to face the new world...