DetectiveRed

Multiple perspectives? In my stories. Nah never. Anyway we get a little peak inside golds head. Enjoy

I messed up again, and worse, I got Joanne hurt because of it. God damn it, Justin, why couldn’t you just listen? Why were you desperate to prove yourself? My helmet’s visor tinted my vision, I was hoping it would help me avoid looking at Clay, since they were shooting glares at me every couple of seconds, but straining my eyes to prevent crying was probably doing a better job than the visor. I should expect that -- after all I hit them -- but what got me was the fact that Joanne was just ignoring me. I wanted to apologise to her, but getting words out around her was hard normally, and I was still trying to keep my voice consistent so I didn’t worry anyone. I just had to hope she got the memo when I was apologising to everyone.

“Hey, you okay?” It was Stella; of course it was. Just like when we were at school, she kept trying to reach out. It’s no wonder she was chosen to be on this team.

“I’m fine, Stella.” I said in my best tough guy voice. 

“Are you sure? You’re shaking, Goldie.”

“I’m fine.”

“You sound familiar. How do you know my name?”

“Joanne told me,” I squeaked. Well it would have been a squeak if I was capable of doing that. It was more of a voice crack, a really obvious voice crack. How do people lie without looking stupid? 

“Oh my gosh.” She grabbed my arm and started tugging. I’d been exposed. I knew it. She was going to ask me things. “Come with me, I need to ask you something,” she whispered. My worst nightmares were becoming reality.

“Please don’t.” I didn’t want her to know. I couldn’t let her know. More importantly I couldn’t let anyone see under the helmet. 

“I’m sorry, but that’s why I’m dragging you away.”

I followed her quietly. She knew this place better than I did, maybe she was taking me somewhere no one could hear so she could yell at me for hiding who I was.

“It’s Justin, right?”

“Uh. No?” I lied. Badly.

“You’ve pulled that ‘I’m fine’ schtick too much for me to not recognize it.”

“Call me Gold.” Even if she’d already figured it out, I didn’t want to be called that name. Not when I was a masked superhero. Not when I could finally escape from being boring old Justin. 

We arrived in a small room filled with boxes, probably for storage. It definitely needed dusting. If I wasn’t wearing a helmet, my allergies would be going haywire. 

“I’m right though, aren’t I?” she asked. What was there to say that would stop her from asking more?

“Yes. You are.” I tried to sound confident. I couldn’t tell if I was succeeding.

“No offense, but I didn’t expect you to be such a nerd? Is that the right word? Like an edgy nerd?”

“What?” What? What did that mean?

“You know the whole ‘mysterious quiet stranger’ routine? I didn’t expect that kind of theatrics from the lonely quiet kid.”  

Wait, what?

“What?”

“Joanne told us about the ‘my face scares people’ thing,” she explained, like that might mean something. Yeah, I had said that, but she was wrong and it wasn’t a drama thing. My face does scare people. It made them uncomfortable. Babies cried when I walked into the room.

“What do you mean about theatrics, though?”

“You know, the whole keeping your identity secret.”

“That wasn’t theatrics! I just didn’t want y’all to know.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I would have to talk and show my face.”

“And why would that be a problem?” she asked. Maybe that was a rational question. 

“I don’t want to make other people uncomfortable!” 

“And not telling us who you are accomplishes that how?”

“Because if you knew who I was, then you might talk to me. Like what’s happening right now, and then that makes things worse, because people have to hear my voice and I mean, you’ve tried to get me to hang out with you all before, and if you knew then you might try it again. Then I’d ruin things.” Why couldn’t I stop spewing my garbage at her?

“Do you really not want to hang out with us that much?” She sounded sad. God, I was awful. I made her think it was her fault I was intolerable. 

“No, no. I just don’t want to invade your friendships, or annoy you. Or both. I’m sorry.”

“So, let me guess this straight: you're not trying to come off as an edgelord, you just have anxiety.”

“It’s not anxiety. I know for a fact I’ll ruin things, I mean I already hurt Joanne and Clay today.”

“You’re new, you just need to get used to fighting as a team.”

“No, I need to stay out of everyone's way.”

“The monsters are getting stronger. If it weren’t for you, we would have lost against Brain Drain. We need you.”

“No, you need someone competent.” I needed to talk to Astrus. There was no hiding who I was anymore, No escape from being me. Now that people knew who I was  things could only get worse.

Maybe it was cowardly to run, but it was the best option. What else was I meant to do when I was cornered? Try and make things better? No. There was no making this better without leaving the team. I just had to walk into the main room and tell him firmly that I didn’t want to be a part of the team. He’d made it clear to me I could leave, I just had to make him believe I wanted to. Which I did. Obviously. 

“Astrus. Please. Find someone else to have put on the Gold suit.” My voice cracked more than I would have liked to admit. Could I be any more pathetic? So much for firm and clear. 

Astrus’ hologram appeared behind me. I should have been used to it by now, but that didn’t stop me from jumping out of my skin, and my spandex.

“I can’t re-allocate your Power. It chose you, Justin.”

“Don’t call me that.” I hated that name. It was a painful reminder of what I was. I was just Justin. No amount of superpowers or spandex would change that. 

“I can relieve you of it, if that’s what you truly want, but it will be the end of the Gold Ranger.”

“Please, I should have never been chosen for this.” I sniffled. The tears streaming down my face must have looked pathetic, but was that really a problem? That’s what I was. Pathetic. Even while resigning I was pathetic.

“I’ll keep your power safe and send you home. I’ll give you a communicator, no powers, just in case something happens. I won’t tell them you're gone until you give me the communicator back.”

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, as I was sent back to my room. Surrounded by undecorated walls and a floor covered in clothes and garbage. It was only three, but there was no use in pretending to be anything more than worthless. Face planting into the bed and sleeping those tears away was the best option.

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Lights pulsed along the skin of the new bot as it waddled into the Crab King’s throne room. Loch’s instructions were clear: show him what it could do. 

“What is your name?”

“Cuttle Copier, my king.”

“And what can you do, Cuttle Copier?”

There was no need for words as the creature scanned Dysphorus’ crab like physique. It’s skin flashed red, yellows, and blacks. Its body grew, and protrusions began to come out of its front tentacles, creating the king's claws. Its skin hardened. The squiddyness of the creature was quickly being replaced by the king's crustacean appearance.

“Stop, Cuttle Copier. I have seen enough!”

“Yes, my king.” Its body contorted back to its original shape.

“I need you to copy the appearance of Euphora Gold,” Dysphorus said as he wheeled out a model of Gold’s suit for the creature to copy. “You are to meet them when I next send out my Anemobots, do you understand?”

“Yes, my king.”

“Fight the bots with them, and wreak some havoc among them.”

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“I don’t think he’s an asshole, Joanne. I think he’s hurting.”

It had only been a matter of time until Stella found out about Gold’s little secret. 

“Whether he’s hurting or not, he needs to learn how to work with us. He needs to train with us.” I could understand struggling, but I wasn’t going to tolerate someone who wouldn’t even train with us.

“That’s what I mean, Joanne. He wasn’t broody when I talked to him. He sounded like he was on the brink of crying.”

“You were able to get some emotion out of him?” I was shocked. 

“Yes, and he needs friends.” It was Stella’s empathy that made her the best second in command I could ask for, but that empathy had its drawbacks. Like trying to constantly help people who didn’t want to be helped.

“I know you want to help him, but at the moment we have bigger issues at hand. Like--” As if on cue the alarm started blaring. Anemobots in the city square, with as many bystanders around as possible, great.

“I see your point.”