"Hey, Cole!" someone calls, and Cole thinks: shit, they know my name now?

He's really tempted to just run off and pretend Cole isn't actually his name, because once they figure out that they've got the right one he's never going to get a break ever. But the tone is one he just can't walk away from. Somebody's hurt. Badly.

So he turns around and keeps his face neutral - not hard, still hurts to move it, there's lingering burn blisters in a few places - and follows the guy over to a group of people curled up on the ground. Bullet wounds, some part of him vaguely thinks. He can see the entry holes in their clothing. (The blood's barely gotten into the fabric yet, and he absentmindedly wonders where the Reapers that'd done this had run off to. God, what had his life turned into?)

One of them's too still - she's already gone. Cole can't feel her energy, can't feel the waves of agony rolling off of her like he can the other two. The guy in the green sweater seems worse off, so Cole bends over him first and pulls up that weird energy from somewhere inside. It's not electricity, whatever it is - doesn't have that tingle, and he's pretty sure he'd be killing people rather than healing them if it was actually electricity. Looks like it all the same, though, and it never fails to get gasps of surprise from everyone watching.

Green sweater guy spasms as the energy arcs into him and the crowd that's gathered predictably oohs along. Someone disengages from the crowd, some guy in a black jacket, and starts helping his buddy to his feet, and Cole automatically tunes out all the exclamations of wonder as green sweater guy gets up sans both bullet wound and bullet. It was cool the first twenty times; now it's just a distraction.

The other girl's got a white sweater on, although it's kind of grey after what's likely two weeks without getting washed. Cole steps toward her - looks like a leg wound, it'd probably be deadly if she didn't get treatment, but she's got the Electric Man so who needs antibiotics?

Then he realizes her clothes look damp, and the ground looks shiny and slippery, and he freezes in place with one leg still in the air. He checks the status of his other foot - yup, still dry - before carefully stepping back and crouching down. He can't reach her from here...

"What is it?" the guy that dragged him over here in the first place stands just behind Cole. He doesn't bother turning to look, still trying to figure how how to do this.

"Puddle. I can't touch water," he replies, and then softly calls out to the white sweater girl. (Or, as softly as he can while his voice sounds like he'd tried to swallow gravel.) "Hey. I know it hurts, but I need you to come over here a bit more."

"No, no," the guy says, and steps into the puddle, trying to slip his arms under the girl's shoulders. "Just hold on. We can do this - yo, guys! Give me a hand!"

The crowd of people obligingly turns to Cole and his dilemma, and at least they seem to figure out what's going on quickly enough because about half of them start trying to help the guy move the girl out of the water.

"Thanks," Cole mutters, and he feels weirdly embarrassed about the whole thing, because he's got goddamn superpowers and yet he'd have been beaten by a fucking puddle if these random good Samaritans weren't around.

He comes out of his crouch and brings up the healing energy again, reaches down to touch her, and feels his foot slip...

He has a split second to think shit before electricity arcs wildly through the water and five people go rigid - no. Six - the girl under his hands got hit, too - and then all six of them smell faintly like smoke and they've collapsed.

Cole can only stare at them. He knows they're already gone; there's nothing but residual electricity in them now. Nothing resembling life.

The survivors stare slack-jawed at him, and then at the bodies, and Cole nearly runs away right then and there. Better to get away before they recover, before they start to get angry, before the rocks start being thrown -

But he can't do that anymore. He's not a nobody - he's the Electric Man, he's Cole MacGrath, and everyone in Empire City knows his name now. And he has to say something...

"I - I'm sorry. I didn't... I just..." He fumbles for the words, already knowing they're not enough, because they never are at the best of times, and like this? He's going to be fucking lynched. (And that girl, and the guy beside her, and the rest - whose siblings are they? Parents, sons, daughters? Sorry, ma'am, the Electric Man stepped in a fucking puddle and accidentally killed your daughter, my condolences.)

The guy that'd called him over in the first place somehow miraculously managed to avoid getting zapped, and he swallows thickly before shaking his head. Cole stares at him. No? No what? No, you're not a hero anymore, man, you just killed a bunch of people you were trying to help? Great fucking job, loser.

"No, man. Not your fault. I saw that, you slipped."

No, Cole almost replies, it is my fault. I did that, and then an old lady at the edge of the crowd speaks up.

"He's right. You were trying to help. It's terrible, but what's done is done. Don't you beat yourself up over it." Then she squints at the rest of the assembled crowd, and Cole nearly laughs at the absurdity of it, at this little old lady trying to intimidate everyone else. "And none of you beat him up over it, neither, you hear? He's doing what he can, and I don't want to hear nobody badmouthing him. He's human too, you know."

Everyone else seems to agree, or maybe they're just still in shock and barely understand what's going on, but they all stay quiet and the old lady apparently takes it upon herself to get everyone moving and get the - bodies out of the water, and fish out IDs so they can let the families know, and -

Cole sprints away and prays to whatever fucked up asshole God there is that he'll never see any of those people again.