Victor Stone had resigned himself to the fact that he was completely alone in the world. He had comrades, but they were completely organic. He had people he'd consider calling 'friend', but they were organic as well. They had secret identities. They...
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Cyborg and Hyperion had just responded to a bomb threat in South Boston. It involved a targeted attack on refugees from Khandaq, what is widely known as the homeland of the fallen champion of Earth, Black Adam. After numerous heinous acts of Adam's doing as well as those of his zealous worshippers, racism began to mount against innocent Khandaqis around the world. The South Boston incident was an attempted bombing of temporary housing for these refugees, and fortunately, Victor and Harper intervened and disarmed the explosives before anyone was harmed.
Currently, they were overseeing the clean up alongside the local police. Victor's scans didn't pick up any additional explosives, but he called in the police's Explosive Ordnance Disposal team to make a full sweep of the premises just in case his scans were incorrect, however unlikely that would be.
As Victor surveyed the building once again from the outside with vision modes in every spectrum of light, he could feel the uncomfortable glances that the refugees gave him. They weren't used to costumed crimefighters of any kind, let alone a Cyborg...so he said nothing.
"Prints point to a Jenny Kramer as the perp." Harper reported to the onsite police, demonstrating the newly added scanning capabilities of her Model Val exo-suit. "Past offences include assault, and attempted arson."
"Thanks. We'll send a car. You got an address for us?" The lead detective asked, notepad in hand.
"One seventy-seven, Westford Avenue."
The detective smirked. "We don't get to see you hero types much down here. I mean, especially someone big like Cyborg."
Victor sent a confused glance to the detective. He blinked at him, silently accusing him of sarcasm.
"I'm being serious. My dad's a Vietnam vet, lost a leg over there. You were the first cape apart from Superman that he didn't think was rubbish." Said the detective.
Victor felt something. He wasn't sure what, but it was something. That feeling quickly faded when he concluded that the detective was lying to make him feel better. Out of pity. He was being compared to Superman. That wasn't right. It was clearly exaggeration.
Harper, as if reading Victor's mind, spoke for him "He appreciates it, really. Don't mind him, he's got most of his mental capacity focused on scrubbing the building for signs of any other bombs."
This gesture puzzled him even more than the compliment. Yes, he had some resources allocated to conducting thorough multi-spectrum scans, but that took up about 0.01% of his processing power and concentration. He easily could've answered...and Harper knew that, but she made something up to cover for him. She lied for him...
Satisfied with his conclusions, Victor walked away from the crime scene with Harper closely following him. Eyes staring straight ahead, he asked her "Why'd you do that?"
"It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you don't take compliments well, and I didn't want that officer to think that he had offended you."
Victor huffed and reluctantly said "Listen...I appreciate it, but I don't need a crutch. I can take care of myself."
