Fic: Preventive Measures
Fandom: DC Comics
Title: Preventive Measures
Characters: Jonar Carter (Booster's father), Booster Gold
Rating: PG
Prompt: #19, Separation Anxiety
Word Count: 380
Spoilers: Booster Gold #4
Warnings: Just the regular scary.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.
A/N: From this interview that you should have read months ago anyway:
BOOSTER: Careful's my middle name.
SKEETS: Actually, your middle name is Jon, which in 25th Century English is short for Jonar, which means "he who tries and fails."
BOOSTER: It was my father's name. Long story.
SKEETS: One I myself am anxious to hear.
I was anxious to hear it, too. So I wrote it. Sort of. AU fic and let's hope it stays that way, eh? Beta'd by wonderfish.
---
Life was good for Jonar. He was staying on the straight and narrow, he had a girl, and things were only looking to get better. He was happy, and everything was going great.
Right up until a hand came down heavily on his shoulder and something poked into his side that made it entirely clear that "No" would not be an acceptable answer to the "Hello, Jonar. We need to have a talk. Don't you agree?" that followed it.
"What do you want?" Jonar asked, as the man guided him through the streets of Gotham.
The blond smirked the way Jonar had seen countless other runners of all kinds smirk before answering, "I told you. We need to have a talk."
"I've gone clean," Jonar informed him.
"Yes, I'm sure that will last a very long time," the man replied sarcastically.
"I'm not going to sing, either."
The man sighed. "Jonar, Jonar, relax. This isn't about anything you've done. It's about what you're going to do."
"I'm not going to do a damned thing for you," Jonar spat out.
The blond stranger let out a short, derisive laugh before adding coldly, "You have no idea how right you are."
Jonar started praying to every deity he could think of for his survival as he was directed into an alleyway.
"I should thank you, you know, for showing me that I needed to be proactive instead of reactive," the man said, waving his (strangely anachronistic and extremely illegal) gun around vaguely. "I'm not saying you were right, because you weren't. But you helped me see that Rip wasn't entirely right, either. The time stream does need to be protected, but not just from people like you who try to twist it to your own ends. All time travelers are dangerous. So I've been getting rid of them. Congratulations, Jonar, you're the last one on my list. Second-to-last, really, but getting rid of you now should kill two birds with one stone." He aimed the gun at Jonar, cracking a smile. "I'd tell you that it's nothing personal, but I'd be lying."
"You're crazy," Jonar replied, his voice heavily tinged with fear.
"Maybe. I always did have a bad habit of taking after my father," the stranger said before pulling the trigger.
Title: Preventive Measures
Characters: Jonar Carter (Booster's father), Booster Gold
Rating: PG
Prompt: #19, Separation Anxiety
Word Count: 380
Spoilers: Booster Gold #4
Warnings: Just the regular scary.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.
A/N: From this interview that you should have read months ago anyway:
BOOSTER: Careful's my middle name.
SKEETS: Actually, your middle name is Jon, which in 25th Century English is short for Jonar, which means "he who tries and fails."
BOOSTER: It was my father's name. Long story.
SKEETS: One I myself am anxious to hear.
I was anxious to hear it, too. So I wrote it. Sort of. AU fic and let's hope it stays that way, eh? Beta'd by wonderfish.
---
Life was good for Jonar. He was staying on the straight and narrow, he had a girl, and things were only looking to get better. He was happy, and everything was going great.
Right up until a hand came down heavily on his shoulder and something poked into his side that made it entirely clear that "No" would not be an acceptable answer to the "Hello, Jonar. We need to have a talk. Don't you agree?" that followed it.
"What do you want?" Jonar asked, as the man guided him through the streets of Gotham.
The blond smirked the way Jonar had seen countless other runners of all kinds smirk before answering, "I told you. We need to have a talk."
"I've gone clean," Jonar informed him.
"Yes, I'm sure that will last a very long time," the man replied sarcastically.
"I'm not going to sing, either."
The man sighed. "Jonar, Jonar, relax. This isn't about anything you've done. It's about what you're going to do."
"I'm not going to do a damned thing for you," Jonar spat out.
The blond stranger let out a short, derisive laugh before adding coldly, "You have no idea how right you are."
Jonar started praying to every deity he could think of for his survival as he was directed into an alleyway.
"I should thank you, you know, for showing me that I needed to be proactive instead of reactive," the man said, waving his (strangely anachronistic and extremely illegal) gun around vaguely. "I'm not saying you were right, because you weren't. But you helped me see that Rip wasn't entirely right, either. The time stream does need to be protected, but not just from people like you who try to twist it to your own ends. All time travelers are dangerous. So I've been getting rid of them. Congratulations, Jonar, you're the last one on my list. Second-to-last, really, but getting rid of you now should kill two birds with one stone." He aimed the gun at Jonar, cracking a smile. "I'd tell you that it's nothing personal, but I'd be lying."
"You're crazy," Jonar replied, his voice heavily tinged with fear.
"Maybe. I always did have a bad habit of taking after my father," the stranger said before pulling the trigger.