Disclaimer: I do not own the characters and I am not affiliated in any way, shape or form with anyone who does.

The superheroes from his childhood had been normal people; they'd run into phone booths or down a dark alley and magically transformed in a blaze of bright colours until they were returned to view wearing a cape and spandex. They stood for what was right, returning stuck kittens to young girls and snatched purses to old ladies but the one thing that he remembered them doing was sticking up for the underdog.

Which was why it was so annoying that Tru wouldn't tell him which ponies had won the race.

Harrison viewed himself as an underdog plain and simple. He'd struggled against the death of his mother, against his repulsive father, against bullies and against the world in general and he had come out on top. Or as close to the top as he thought possible to obtain. He didn't have a drug habit, he didn't go around murdering people, he didn't live on the streets.

But Tru still wouldn't budge, she wouldn't let him profit from her gift, even though she was willing to let other people do so. The underdogs who got to be considered as underdogs only because they would die without her help. But he wasn't an underdog; he was just her screwed-up brother who didn't know how to do anything right and who didn't deserve to benefit even though he had helped to save people.

He really wished Tru was more like the superheroes from his childhood.