FIC: Iconoclast
TITLE: Iconoclast
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
SUMMARY: Booster sits vigil.
WORD COUNT: 444
NOTES: So, I kinda threw myself into this pairing after getting curious about what the term ‘boostle’ meant. And I find out how that guy in 52 isn’t actually a complete idiot and how he has this dead best friend. And then I read a huge post on scans_daily which tells me their entire history, after which I read the Mulletverse and decide that this whole thing’s a blast.
Tipping me over the edge, however, was the writers_choice challenge ‘icon’ and the fact that I’m actually quite ill and staying at home.
It didn’t seem fair really. It hardly ever did.
Michael Carter was a loser. He’d gambled away the future, so he’d come to screw up the past. Any way to make a buck, any chance of fame, fortune and female company - he was all out for himself.
And then he’d met Ted.
“Seems quiet tonight, buddy. No nurses taking your temperature, no heroes at your door. Just…me.”
Ted was smart, funny and, well, attractive - though he’d never believe it was true and if Booster had told him that…well, who knew how he’d react, and now maybe Booster would never…
No. He wouldn’t think like that.
“Running out of conversation here. I’ll get Ralph to bring me a book and then you can laugh at my reading…laugh…”
Silence. He wasn’t used to being silent. Jokes and shouting, flirting and mockery were what flickered off his tongue and that’s when Ted would laugh, sometimes throwing back his head and really laughing until he couldn’t breathe.
And then he’d gasp that he had a heart condition and Booster would pretend he hadn’t heard because the thought of dealing with Ted’s mortality scared him.
“Why did you do it, Ted?”
Batman had sent them because this villain was small time, barely even meta. Second-string heroes for second-string villains. It would all be perfectly easy. But Iconoclast had a secret, a secret so blaringly obvious from his name that it made Booster feel sick just to think of it, and he’d fired a ray for destroying…icons.
He’d aimed it at Booster. Ted had stepped in front of it.
“If it had hit me, Ted, I might have escaped with a graze. I’m no…icon, no shining beacon. What…what Batman said earlier, that was mean - we’ll put itching powder in the suit, okay? You are an icon, Ted. You’ll…always be an icon.”
Booster put his head in his hands, struggling to breathe, to think clearly, to stop these tears leaching out of his eyes. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead.
“You’re…everything to me. You showed me what it meant, really meant, to be a hero. You’re…you’re good people, Ted. It should’ve been me. Why wasn’t it me?”
His fingers gripped Ted’s and he stared at that pale face, body incapable even of breathing by itself and he had to look away, couldn’t face the thought of Ted…like this.
“I don’t know who I am without you, Ted. You always…saw the best in me. Now I’m just…a loser again.”
He leaned forward, gently pushing back the dark hair and placing a kiss on his forehead with trembling lips.
“Come back, Ted. This world needs an icon. And I need a hero.”
AUTHOR: Demon Faith
SUMMARY: Booster sits vigil.
WORD COUNT: 444
NOTES: So, I kinda threw myself into this pairing after getting curious about what the term ‘boostle’ meant. And I find out how that guy in 52 isn’t actually a complete idiot and how he has this dead best friend. And then I read a huge post on scans_daily which tells me their entire history, after which I read the Mulletverse and decide that this whole thing’s a blast.
Tipping me over the edge, however, was the writers_choice challenge ‘icon’ and the fact that I’m actually quite ill and staying at home.
It didn’t seem fair really. It hardly ever did.
Michael Carter was a loser. He’d gambled away the future, so he’d come to screw up the past. Any way to make a buck, any chance of fame, fortune and female company - he was all out for himself.
And then he’d met Ted.
“Seems quiet tonight, buddy. No nurses taking your temperature, no heroes at your door. Just…me.”
Ted was smart, funny and, well, attractive - though he’d never believe it was true and if Booster had told him that…well, who knew how he’d react, and now maybe Booster would never…
No. He wouldn’t think like that.
“Running out of conversation here. I’ll get Ralph to bring me a book and then you can laugh at my reading…laugh…”
Silence. He wasn’t used to being silent. Jokes and shouting, flirting and mockery were what flickered off his tongue and that’s when Ted would laugh, sometimes throwing back his head and really laughing until he couldn’t breathe.
And then he’d gasp that he had a heart condition and Booster would pretend he hadn’t heard because the thought of dealing with Ted’s mortality scared him.
“Why did you do it, Ted?”
Batman had sent them because this villain was small time, barely even meta. Second-string heroes for second-string villains. It would all be perfectly easy. But Iconoclast had a secret, a secret so blaringly obvious from his name that it made Booster feel sick just to think of it, and he’d fired a ray for destroying…icons.
He’d aimed it at Booster. Ted had stepped in front of it.
“If it had hit me, Ted, I might have escaped with a graze. I’m no…icon, no shining beacon. What…what Batman said earlier, that was mean - we’ll put itching powder in the suit, okay? You are an icon, Ted. You’ll…always be an icon.”
Booster put his head in his hands, struggling to breathe, to think clearly, to stop these tears leaching out of his eyes. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead.
“You’re…everything to me. You showed me what it meant, really meant, to be a hero. You’re…you’re good people, Ted. It should’ve been me. Why wasn’t it me?”
His fingers gripped Ted’s and he stared at that pale face, body incapable even of breathing by itself and he had to look away, couldn’t face the thought of Ted…like this.
“I don’t know who I am without you, Ted. You always…saw the best in me. Now I’m just…a loser again.”
He leaned forward, gently pushing back the dark hair and placing a kiss on his forehead with trembling lips.
“Come back, Ted. This world needs an icon. And I need a hero.”