Summary: What it's really like to be a hero...perhaps.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, however much I may wish I did.
Author's Notes: For those who don't know this particular corner of the Marvel Comics universe, some background. Dan Ketch is the current mortal host of the Ghost Rider, aka the Spirit of Vengeance. John Blaze is the previous incarnation who, while no longer prone to turning into a skeletal demon biker at the least provocation, is still not entirely normal and is stuck with being a reluctant protector of humanity. Blaze's Ghost Rider was the demon Zarathos, who was forcibly bonded to him; Dan's Ghost Rider is a different and rather nicer entity, though the basic turn-human-host-into-flaming-skulled-demon modus operandi remains the same. The other names dropped in this story (Blackout, Lilith, Deathwatch and Centurious) are all recurring villains.
Oh, and be warned that this story contains the uber-spoiler from the end of the Road to Vengeance arc. Though unless anyone was planning to read the whole thing in order, I doubt that matters.
Just Like Life
Bang!
Squeak!
Bang!
Squeak!
Bang!
Squeeeak!
"They didn't have those in my day, you know."
Dan didn't look around at the sound of John Blaze's voice by his ear, too focused on his game. Another monster popped up, and he walloped it with the plastic mallet. "No?"
"Nah. When I was a carny it was all about the shows. This make-your-own-entertainment stuff is all new." Blaze strolled around Dan to take a closer look at the game, nodding as Dan whacked another monster. "Kinda like life, isn't it?"
"What?" Dan blinked, and nearly missed the next monster. "Whoa!" Bang.
"That." Blaze pointed. "The monster pops up, you bust its head, you turn around and the next one's already grinning at you. Same old, same old."
Dan thought about that. He could kind of see what Blaze meant, he guessed. He looked at the grinning, fanged white monster that had just popped up at him. Blackout, some corner of his thoughts supplied, and the whack he dealt it felt suddenly and indefinably more satisfying. Yeah. Busting heads on monsters pretty well covered it.
Blaze tapped his fingers on the edge of the machine. "You know," he added inconsequentially, "if all of these little bastards had flaming skulls for heads, you might get me playing this."
Cold shift inside him, brimstone flicker of light in the corners of his vision. Dan shook it off. Don't mind him, he said silently to the vast, fire-edged shadow in the back of his head. "That's not fair," he complained out loud.
"Not yours," Blaze retorted. "Mine."
Oh, right, Dan thought, abashed. Of course. He whacked another monster and pictured a tiny Zarathos being hammered flat by a pissed-off Blaze. It was a stupid image, but somehow comforting. It cut the horrors down to size.
Lilith.
Bang!
Deathwatch.
Bang!
Centurious.
Bang!
Yeah, it was a lot like life, really. "So," he said, snatching a glance at the high-score counter - doing well, up into five figures' worth of points now - "do you think we get a prize at the end?"
"Not likely," Blaze snorted. The lines around his eyes were tight again, bitter. "We just keep whacking the monsters until one of them gets quick or lucky and whacks us." He stared unseeingly out into the glittering night around them, his eyes looking over and past and through the crowds and the music and the glinting metal shadows of the carnival machines. "I gave up expecting prizes a long time ago, kid. Doing what we do isn't about winning."
Another monster popped up, but Dan suddenly didn't feel like hitting it. He turned away, leaving it to look forlornly at his back as the machine blared out a "game over", and stepped in close beside Blaze, looking out with him at the darkness. In the back of his mind he felt the ghostly lick of flame as something else looked out through his eyes, sharing what he saw.
People. Lots of them. People happy and playing and laughing and being only as scared as they wanted to get. People who didn't have demons in their heads and monsters at their heels. People who got to go home at the end of the night.
This is what we're fighting for, isn't it? he said silently.
The shadow nodded. Worth it?
Yeah, he said, and it was a surprise, but a good one, to discover that he hadn't had to think about the answer. He looked at Blaze, still staring so tiredly into the night. Maybe there would always be monsters. And maybe neither of them was ever going to go home again.
But, still.
Dan slid one arm around his brother's back. "I don't know," he said, just loud enough for his voice to carry over the joyous racket of the carnival. "I think we win sometimes."
And Blaze looked at him in surprise, and then the lines of his face softened just a little and he settled his arm companionably across Dan's shoulders. And they stared at the night together, and it wasn't so bad after all.
Even in this game, sometimes you still got prizes.
Fin