Another quick, random OC one-shot. Just me being meloncholy and wondering how lots of the young, stupid sidekicks survive after leaving to be vigilantes. And then I thought, what if some didn't survive? Who would know?
Now you do.
Disclaimer: Don't own any superheros that this might make you think of. :)
You know how, in those old cartoons, everyone has a happy ever after?
Real life doesn't work that way.
In the fantasy shows, there's that split second of mortal peril, and then suddenly something miraculous happens. There's a handy ledge to grab onto, or a passing-by plane, or a blimp that just happens to float under you.
It doesn't work that way.
Even as I'm lying here, helpless on the street, coughing up blood and gore, feeing my consciousness ebb farther and farther away, I keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, it will turn out all right.
It doesn't work that way.
When you're in a real fight, throwing punches and battling villains and helping the citizens, you don't have much time to watch your back. You have to trust that someone else will be there to protect you.
You don't have time for fairy tales of amazing rescues.
Every second you know you could die, that this isn't a game, this is your life you're putting on the line for people.
I never quite understood that before now.
I was just a cocky kid who'd gained superpowers through an alien. I thought I was on top of the world. I thought I could do anything.
It doesn't work that way.
I thought I could fight off all the bad guys, and save the day, and be the hero for once.
It just doesn't work that way.
And I paid the price for my stupidity. Just like every other young kid with amazing powers who thought they could save the world.
You never hear about us, because we don't live long enough to be heard about.
Fairy-tales and weekend cartoons don't exist in our world.