trans_9 | Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

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Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

Nighttime.

Or, at least, what passed for nighttime on the meatship.

A time when most of the crew was already fast asleep, dreaming away pleasantly throughout the night.

...Or, perhaps not. For you see, tonight, something particularly strange is happening.

Now it is not all that unusual for someone to have a nightmare, especially not on the ship.

Yet tonight, no one will sleep easily, for the Nightmare King deems it so.

Everyone's dreams will have a tinge of horror to them. Nothing so out of the ordinary to rouse one's suspicions, but at the same time, no one is left out.

Pleasant nightmares, meatship.

[ooc: And thus begins the start of the Nightmare King's spree of insanity. He's starting out subtle, of course. The nightmares won't be anything more than your run of the mill bad dream, but he is giving them to everyone. Posting in isn't mandatory, but if you want to have fun with your character's nightmare, go right ahead.]

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"Just let go now, Kal," Superman says, resting Kal-El's head on his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat slow, gritting his teeth against the pain--both from the kryptonite and from the emotional blow. Tears trickle from the corners of his eyes.

Badump...

Badump...

Badump.

Baaaaaaduuuump.

Silence.

Kon pets the hair of his former mentor one last time before pulling away from the red lights, away from the sting of the kryptonite in his blood, and he crawls forward across the floor, and still bowed to his knees in respect, looks to the man standing in the doorway, the bald silhouette that's been there the whole time.

"It's done. I did what you wanted, dad. Like I told you--I'd do anything to make you proud," says Kon, the new Superman, the Superman the world needs. One that understands his place, one that humanity can control, and one that obeys the man that knows what's best for the world implicitly.

"Such an obedient boy," Luthor says, walking in, and placing a hand on Kon's head. He looks to the body of his former enemy and smiles. "I couldn't ask for a better son."

Kon is still crying when he wakes up, and to his intense embarrassment, he can't seem to stop. There is, of course, the terror of the dream, of an uncertain future, the fear that he'll become that horrible, terrible person, but the part of the dream that was the worst was watching his mentor die, hearing his heartbeat slow, the desperate look in Kal's eyes, those assurances that there was still good in him...

Never mind letting him down--if he was the one to kill him, he'd either want to die, or everything good inside him would already be dead. Even when it's just a dream, it's not easy to watch the man you love like a father die--even if that man doesn't love you back like you're his son.

I won't hurt him. Never. Never ever. I won't hurt him. Never...

Never. He'd never hurt Kal. Never.

Kon curls on his side away from his girlfriend, and bites down on his pillow to try to keep the noise down as he calms down, to keep from waking her up. It'll be a long time before he can stop and go back to sleep.

Sleep isn't usually as comfortable as it was back home, but tonight is especially restless. Her dreams are bad, but Cassie finds it hard to get too upset over them now. She's already seen half of them happen in real life –– Diana, Donna, Kon –– so a second run through doesn't seem quite so harsh as the real thing.

Cassie comes out of sleep in a moody silence, reminding herself that they're fine. She's fine. She's not alone.

But Kon, of course, is a bigger concern, especially when she can near him sniffling in the dark. When she realizes he isn't glued to her, she gropes through the dark to figure out where he is. Her hand lands on his shoulder.

"Kon?" she says, propping herself up on one elbow. "What's wrong?"

Aw, crap.

"Nothing," he totally, totally lies, and wipes his face on the blanket. "Not crying at all, nope. Totally bein' manly and not crying like a little girl over a nightmare."

That was the worst lie ever. Cassie edges over to him and puts one arm around him, leaning against his back.

"Kon," she replies, sympathetically. The you-are-an-awful-liar is just implicit and doesn't need to be said aloud. "It's okay, it's not real. Do you want to talk about it, or...?"

"No."

No, he doesn't want to talk about it.

But he reaches for her hand and brings it up to his mouth to press a kiss to it.

Then he says, "I don't wanna be a bad person, Cass. I don't wanna ever be like him."

That should clue her in enough to the nature of the dream, without him explaining the details. He doesn't want to talk about the details.

She starts to nod, but realizes it doesn't mean much in the dark, so she mumbles a mmhmm and buries her nose against his neck for a moment.

"You won't be. You wouldn't, and even then, I wouldn't ever let you," she says.

That's when he turns over and wiggles to face her in the dark, presses a gentle kiss to her lips, and buries his face in her neck. Wrapping his arms around her, he traces his fingers gently against the naked skin of her back.

This, right here is the place where he can be himself. He can be weak, he can be scared, he can be sad. Only in this little place right here, because the rest of the time he tries so hard to be good, to be strong, to be the kind of hero he should be. He's Superboy--he's not allowed to be scared of anything. Superman isn't scared of things. Superman doesn't cry. Superman doesn't worry about losing his way and becoming evil. (Or so Kon thinks).

But right here, he can be just be what he is. Right here, in the dark, with his face buried against her neck, and her skin against his, and the smell of her hair, he can just be himself. Scared and sad and wishing his nightmares of being bad weren't weighed so heavily in the genuine possibility of losing his way (Black Zero, brainwashed by Luthor, the Titans of Tomorrow--how many ways can he go bad?)

All the rest of the time, he's the cocky, smartass, occasionally moronical, brave moron that he is, all the insecurities and worry about who he'll become tucked away and hidden.

He's safe here, though. He's safe with her.

She gets a sleepy nuzzle, and strong arms holding her closer.

It didn't matter how many nightmares about his future and himself he had, as long as he each time, he could wake up with her in his arms.

She exhales, deeply, and relaxes against him. As long as she has him, she's grounded, and can think straight. It feels good, not only to have someone to lean on, but to be strong enough to be someone he can lean on.

"I love you too, Kon," she replies, softly, leaning her cheek against the top of his head.

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Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

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