Fic: Nightmares
Fandom: DC Comics
Title: Nightmares
Characters: Booster Gold
Rating: G
Prompt: #6, Inferiority Complex
Word Count: 291
Spoilers: None
Warnings: About as soul-crushingly depressing as you'd expect this prompt to be from me. Which is to say, very.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.
A/N: So I wrote this in April, at the latest, had wonderfish beta it, and then left it on my hard drive and forgot about it. Genius! So have some kinda old fic. Strangely, it seems to have aged somewhat well and I like it better now than I did when I wrote it. Make of that what you will.
---
He's always had nightmares. When he was young, they were always about things that scared him: bats, clowns, and rats, poison ivy, and men with two faces. At first, he'd go down the hall to his mother's room for reassurance, but once he figured out that they were only dreams and couldn't hurt him, he stopped, and only when a nightmare was particularly bad would he climb into his sister's bunk bed for the comfort of another warm body. As he got older, the nightmares became less and less of a problem, and it wasn't long before he'd simply wake up, roll over, and fall back asleep.
And then he started betting and the nightmares shifted from nightmares of terror to nightmares of regret. They weren't so bad at first, and he'd simply shake them off in the morning and go on with his life. It was only when he got caught that they became unbearable. But like the nightmares that came before, he learned to deal with them, even as they got worse and worse as he gathered more and more things that never should have happened, words he never should have said, and people who never should have died.
There was one dream, where he was surrounded by superheroes. He couldn't really make out any details in the sea of bright colors, except for their smiles, wide and true. The scene was dominated by Superman, his smile the broadest and most genuine of the bunch, shaking his hand and clasping his shoulder, talking about what a good job he'd done, and what a great hero he was, and how proud he was to fight alongside him.
It was the only dream he could never get back to sleep after.
Title: Nightmares
Characters: Booster Gold
Rating: G
Prompt: #6, Inferiority Complex
Word Count: 291
Spoilers: None
Warnings: About as soul-crushingly depressing as you'd expect this prompt to be from me. Which is to say, very.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.
A/N: So I wrote this in April, at the latest, had wonderfish beta it, and then left it on my hard drive and forgot about it. Genius! So have some kinda old fic. Strangely, it seems to have aged somewhat well and I like it better now than I did when I wrote it. Make of that what you will.
---
He's always had nightmares. When he was young, they were always about things that scared him: bats, clowns, and rats, poison ivy, and men with two faces. At first, he'd go down the hall to his mother's room for reassurance, but once he figured out that they were only dreams and couldn't hurt him, he stopped, and only when a nightmare was particularly bad would he climb into his sister's bunk bed for the comfort of another warm body. As he got older, the nightmares became less and less of a problem, and it wasn't long before he'd simply wake up, roll over, and fall back asleep.
And then he started betting and the nightmares shifted from nightmares of terror to nightmares of regret. They weren't so bad at first, and he'd simply shake them off in the morning and go on with his life. It was only when he got caught that they became unbearable. But like the nightmares that came before, he learned to deal with them, even as they got worse and worse as he gathered more and more things that never should have happened, words he never should have said, and people who never should have died.
There was one dream, where he was surrounded by superheroes. He couldn't really make out any details in the sea of bright colors, except for their smiles, wide and true. The scene was dominated by Superman, his smile the broadest and most genuine of the bunch, shaking his hand and clasping his shoulder, talking about what a good job he'd done, and what a great hero he was, and how proud he was to fight alongside him.
It was the only dream he could never get back to sleep after.