Booster groaned, staring up at the blinding lights in front of his face

Author's Note: Booster Gold belongs to DC Comics, as do almost all characters in this story, save for a few, who I will point out the chapter AFTER their first appearance.

Second, recommended reading for this story: Showcase Presents: Booster Gold, 52 Volumes 1-4, and Booster Gold: 52 pick-Up.

Third, all the history listed here for Booster is true or based on true items (only I've added a bit more for story purposes), including is birth date and age…yes, I was shocked to when I realized Booster is only 21 when he came back in time…but the math adds up. In this story, Booster is about 23, having been in the current year for around 2 years. Finally, though not mentioned here, for the sake of this origin story, this Booster saved President George W. Bush, instead of Reagan.

&

Booster groaned, staring up at the blinding lights in front of his face. Squinting, he tried to remember exactly what had happened, only to remember suddenly the parking garage collapsing, the rocks finally breaking down his force field, then a sense of weightlessness…

"Oh God…I'm dead and I'm an atheist," Booster muttered. He clasped his hands together and began to pray. "Dear God, creator of man, inventor of the pizza bagel, I know I don't believe in you, infact I'm sure I've broke 6 of 12 those commandment thingies the guy who made the NRA carved into tombstones…but please don't send me to Hell. I don't like fire…it makes me sweaty..."

"You're not dead."

Booster looked up, stared to find that he wasn't alone. There, leaning over him at the head of the bed, stood a masked figure. Dressed in full black spandex, with not an inch of skin visible, the only splotch of color on the masked man was silver: lenses covered his eyes, the stripes ran along his biceps and thighs, the belt around his waist, and his boots and gloves. Upon his chest there was the image of a black 4-point star overlaid upon a 4-point silver star.

"Are we awake?" The figure asked, his tone slightly amused.

"We're not sure," Booster said, staring at the upside-down figure. "Are we…black?"

"My costume is."

"…then we are awake. But we are very puzzled."

Scrunching up his forehead, Booster thought back to what last had happened. His eyes widened as he remember the attack in the parking garage, the mysterious figure that had attacked him in Skeets…dressed in a full length suit…not a bit of skin showing…glowing eyes…

"YOU!" Booster roared, snapping his head forward. He was trying to head butt the mysterious figure, maybe break his nose or at least knock him senseless. Booster knew surprise was his only ally; this man had beaten him down so easily before, he would do so again if Booster didn't act fast.

One wouldn't know it by the airs Booster put on, but he had grown up in the poor part of Gotham City. He'd learned early on that if you wanted to survive, you had to be willing to fight dirty now and then. He could a multitude of times where a knee to the balls or dirt in a guy's face had saved his life. It had been a lesson that had served him well in his time as a football star and a superhero: No matter what one said, there are no rules.

However, Booster learned rather quickly another rule: Don't head butt someone with a force-field generator.

"OOOOOWWWW!" he bellowed, grabbing his forehead as his body bounced back onto the hospital bed. "FRAK FRAK FRAK!"

"Are you done?" The figure asked, his silver force field flashing slightly. "Or would you prefer to injure yourself worse?"

"I'll show you injuries!" Booster snapped, struggling to get out of the bed. "I'll give you so many injuries, your injuries will have injuries…"

"Settle down," Someone else said, entering the small room. Booster turned, gulping as he took in the newcomer. He was dressed in a pair of khakis, a white shirt with a leather jacket, and a set of rather comfortable shoes. His brown/blonde hair was slightly shagged, and the stubble around his chin showed he was one to become more focused on work then on appearances. "It is nice to finally meet the man that stole my life's work."

"Rip Hunter," Booster whispered in awe, "the father of time travel."

"Yes, and the reason you are in the year 2008 instead of 2463." Rip glanced over at the black-spandexed man. "What happened?"

"He tried to attack…rather foolish but I should have suspected…"

"Of course I tried to attack!" Booster snapped. "He whammed me in that garage…"

Rip held up his hand, interrupting Booster before his tirade could continue. "You are confused, Booster. If it weren't for Paradox here, you'd be dead. It was upon my command that he traveled to the parking garage and brought you and Skeets to my lab before the garage collapsed." Paradox nodded his head, and Booster had the sickening hunch the man was smiling beneath his black mask.

Booster stared at the man before him. Rip Hunter was a legend, even in his own time. The man that had mastered the time, the creator of the amazing time sphere that allowed one to travel back and forth…all other devices, both heroic and villainous, had been drawn from his original design. In the future, the machine would be the centerpiece of the Space Museum in Metropolis, sitting beside other grand relics like the ship that had brought Superman to Earth and fragments of a New Genesis vehicle.

"Sorry I stole your time bubble." Booster smiled sheepishly. "Its dinged, but I can get it for you…I have the key to the storage locker…"

"This isn't about my time sphere." Rip pulled a bundle of clothing that had been tucked under his arm and tossed it to Booster. "I repaired your suit, as well as made some minor upgrades. Get dressed; Paradox will show you to my lab…I'm currently working on Skeets." Nodding just once to Paradox, Rip quickly left the room, leaving the two by themselves.

"So…you sure he isn't mad?"

Paradox shrugged.

"What, not talking to me know?" Booster scoffed as he began pulling on his suit. "Fine, I can do the same."

He began to get dressed, Paradox merely turning his head. Booster stuck out his tongue, only to see Paradox shrug once more. Gritting his teeth, the man from the 25th century decided just to put on his costume and ignore the other man. However, Booster Gold was not one to enjoy silence, and soon found he almost vibrating with unused energy.

Finally, Booster threw up his hands, letting out a frustrated cry. "Would you say something?!"

"What would you like to know?" Paradox asked, handing Booster his goggles.

"Thanks," Booster muttered. "How about who you are and why you are here?"

Paradox stared at him for a moment before answering. "I am much like yourself…a time traveler who decided to become a hero. I cannot tell you anything else, as it may corrupt the time stream. Do know that I am an ally…if I were not, Rip would have never allowed me to be here."

"And where is here?"

"Rip Hunter's time lab." Paradox motioned towards the door. "This way."

Booster quickly found himself in a massive room, several times the size of his entire apartment and at least several stories tall. At one end sat Rip's time sphere, brand new unlike the one Booster would find in the future. Another was what could only be described as a workbench, filled with all sorts of gadgets and devices just waiting for Rip to tinker with, including, much to Booster's relief, Skeets, happily chatting away while Rip worked on him. Several other rooms circled the lab, much like the hospital room Booster had been stationed in.

But what truly drew Booster's attention were the massive blackboards that dominated the center of the room. They stood upon a raised platform, on display for everyone to see. The black background was filled with chalk colored writings and random thoughts that seemed both haphazard and organized:

Don't Over-reach!

All that glitters is gold

Red & Green aren't the only arrows

One-Face, Two-Face, No-Face??

The Twilight Star Shines!

Who is Robert Eshing?

Ignore the Crisis!

Why So Serious?

Ted's Right!

The Hunted, The Hunter, The Huntress

?

Carter Daniels equals Michael Carter

And in the middle, in big, bold letters, encircled by everything else, there was:

THE EVENT STARTS IT ALL!!

Booster groaned. "Ugh…you know, its chalk boards like that which made me skip all my college courses."

Rip didn't bother to look up from Skeets as he finished his work. "No need to lie, Michael. We all know your history."

Booster shrugged. "Not that hard to know my history. Roguish good-looking hero from the future…"

"I mean your real history." Rip pulled out a folder and began to read aloud. "Michael Jon Carter, born December 29th, 2442, 4 minutes before you twin sister Michelle Carter was born. Your middle name is the short form of Jonar, your father's name, with means "He who tries and fails"."

"Long story," Booster muttered.

"I'd love to hear it sometime," Paradox said, leaning against a wall.

Booster glared at the dark figure, but Rip continued. "You grew up in the lower Gotham, in the lower middle class section. Your father was a gambler that ran out on his family when you were a child to chase women with more cash, leaving your mother to work as a waitress and you to raise your sister, despite her being the more mature of the two. You learned quickly how to fight, but was never a bully, in part because of the few neighbors around that kept you grounded.

"When you were in Junior High, you began playing football. You rapidly moved up the ranks, and as a Freshmen led your team to a championship, which you would do again the next three years. You accepted a scholarship with Gotham University, where you would set records that would take several hundred years to beat."

"My records lasted that long?" Booster asked with a grin. "Skeets…did you hear that?"

"Every word, sir," Skeets said. He floated around Paradox, inspecting him. "Curious…"

The black-suited man held up a hand, revealing a small disc. The circle glowed black, and Skeets had to kick up his motors to keep from being pulled in. "Don't scan me," Paradox warned, "I don't like it."

"Hey!" Booster snapped, aiming his fist at Paradox, the golden energy crackling. "That's my friend you're trying to suck up."

"I was merely protecting myself." Paradox lowered his hand. "It is a matter of privacy, that is all."

Booster turned to Rip, who ignored the two and continued reading off Booster's history. He had a point to make, and neither Booster nor Paradox would prevent him from doing so.

"At the end of your Sophomore year, it was revealed that you had gambled on several college games, including your own, in order to pay for the medical care your mother needed to survive a life threatening illness. It was for this reason that the courts allowed you to walk free, though you were banned from football for life."

"Enough." Booster turned, not wanting to hear any more. He didn't know how Rip knew all this, or why it mattered. It was painful enough living through it once…but to hear the way Rip said it so casually…

Paradox held out an arm, grabbing Booster by his bicep. "You need to hear this," he intoned. "Trust me…its not easy hearing your past, both good and bad, but it needs to be heard."

Booster, already annoyed by the black-suited man, was two seconds from decking him before Rip began to speak again.

"This event had several outcomes. First, it caused a falling out between you and your mother and sister. Second, it left you broke and a pariah in Gotham. Third, it would instill within you a hatred in all organized crime…something that would begin you on the path to where you now stand.

"You would journey to Metropolis, where you would take the job of night watchman at the Metropolis Air and Space Museum. During your shifts, you would wander the halls, learning about the history of heroes and villains. This would lead you to enroll in Metropolis University, where you continued your pursuit for a degree in history." Rip smirked. "You were top of your class in Hero Studies…hardly the idiot you make people believe you are."

Booster held up his hand. "And we all know the rest: I decide to become a superhero, Skeets here points out that people wouldn't accept me in my time, so I convince…"

"Deactivate, sir," Skeets chimed in.

"…deactivate Skeets, then steal your Time Sphere and end up here. I try to make a name for myself, end up a laughing stock stuck in this town." Booster rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, you have m future in there too? Does it say if I'm a failure after this? Wouldn't surprise me."

"I never thought you were a failure, Michael." Skeets said, bobbing up and down next to Booster.

"Joy…a robot loves me," Booster snarked.

"I never said anything about love, Michael. I…tolerate you…I could see it getting to liking you…I do find you humorous, though as a robot, I am not sure…"

"Suck him up," Booster told Paradox, the other figure holding up his hand. Skeets wisely zipped over and hid behind Rip.

The inventor looked over at Booster, his gaze hard. "Tell me something, Booster…why do you think you are destined to remain a failure?" He held up a hand. "And don't begin talking about how terrible things are now or using your insecurities. I want an honest answer…why?"

Booster leaned back, considering this. All the smart-aleck comments he wanted to say were ruled out almost instantly due to Rip's demand that he give an 'honest answer'. Instantly, his mind whispered an answer, one that had always filled Booster with dread and self-doubt. The question was, could he swallow his pride and admit to it in front of Rip Hunter, the famous inventor?

"You looked yourself up in the history books, didn't you?" Rip asked.

Booster's eyes doubled in size. 'So much for that question.'

Rip grabbed a history book that was lying on his workbench, flipping through the pages. "The great feats of Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, The Flash…a lot of names…but no Booster Gold. I suppose you assumed you changed your name, maybe even redesigned your costume…" Rip snapped the book shut. "No such luck." He tossed the book aside. "But let me clue you in, Michael…there is a reason you are not in the history books: I erased you from them."

"What?" Booster asked, flipping between anger and shock. "You…removed every mention…every great thing I'll do…why? Why would you do that? To make me a laughing stock? To make me worthless? So that the world would never know how hard I worked?"

"Booster…"

"What else did you erase, huh? My football records? Maybe my family records?" He took a step forward, fists clenched. "Is that how you know all about me…you erased it all except for what's in your little folder?" he shoved his way past Paradox, moving in to grab Rip by the shirt. "This payback for stealing your precious Time Sphere? Huh? Huh!?"

"I told you I wasn't angry about that," Rip said calmly, despite being manhandled by the superhero. "And I didn't erase your past. Merely the records of your achievements." Before Booster could demand more, Rip continued. "Not my current self, however. In the future, an older version of myself erased all historical records of you, me, Paradox and several other heroes."

"Why?" Booster grit out.

"To protect you from those that would want to see you dead." Rip waved his hand towards the blackboard. "You see the message about The Event? It is the start of a great change in the world…a serious of dark actions by very…very evil beings that threaten not just our world but all worlds. And you, Booster, play a key role in this. Don't you see…my future self erased you from history to protect you…so that you could fulfill your destiny."

"But you have no idea what this destiny is?" Booster demanded, loosening his grip slightly.

Rip shook his head. "I, in the future, went to great lengths to hide it."

"I ask again…why?"

"Chaos theory," Paradox injected. "Small changes result in huge shifts. If you knew your own history, you could become complacent, resulting in you not doing what history says you did in the exact way, changing history and thus making…" He held out his hands, "anyone?"

"A paradox," Skeets said happily.

"Exactly," Paradox said. "I make it my business to have the fewest number of those little glitches crop up…wouldn't be surprised if a future version of myself convinced Rip here to delete the records. Including my own."

Booster shook his head. "You expect me to believe all this garbage? How do I know you're all not just pulling my leg…a time travel version of pig-tipping, except I'm the pig."

"Cow, sir."

"Whatever, Skeets."

Paradox sighed. "Rip…you need to show him. It's the only way he'll believe us."

Rip nodded, freeing himself from Booster's grasp and dragging him towards the time Sphere. Booster, for his part, struggled to free himself. "Hey! Hey! Where do you think you're taking me?"

"To The Event, Booster Gold." Rip forced the golden hero into the sphere. "The Event that changes the world."