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Bob Sparker was strapped to his own electric chair, shirtless in a pair of boxers. A spotlight shone on him from above. He could hear, but not see, the crowd behind him.
They were booing.
A deep voice shot out of the dark. “You must answer for your crimes, Mr. Bianchi.”
Bob winced as he struggled against the bonds. “I... haven't done anything wrong, I swear...”
The crowd booed louder. “You're reckless! Dangerous! And all for what? So you can shine? So they can all look at you and smile?”
“No!” Bob screamed. “No! I just wanna make people happy!” Try as he might, he couldn't get free of the straps holding him to the chair. And the light shining on him was so bright...
“Is that so...” the invisible voice boomed. “And what about Alice Lang? Was she happy?”
Bob squeezed his eyes shut tight. “That wasn't my fault! Just shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”
And just like that, it was silent. The beaming spotlight clicked off and now Bob was alone in the dark, still trapped in the chair.
Somehow, that was almost worse.
He heard someone step behind him and felt clawed hands grip his shoulders. Bob let out a long, wracked sob. “Anyone but you,” he cried in an almost-whisper.
“But I will be the only thing left, in the end,” the not-him-but-him hissed in his ear, his nose brushing against Bob's hair. Bob couldn't see the person behind him, but he knew it was him – the person he'd been calling the man in the mirror. Himself, filled to the brim with electricity. Uncontrollable. Unstoppable. Uncontained. Always torturing him in his dreams.
“Stop it,” Bob begged. “Leave me alone.”
“Who will protect you besides me?” it taunted, still gripping his shoulders.
Bob finally found the strength to slip out of his bonds and got out of the chair. Lunging toward his alter ego in the dark, he yelled, “I don't need you!”
---
Thud. Bob found himself wrapped up in sheets next to the pullout couch in the Kings' penthouse. Static dispersed, creating sparks in the dark as he untangled himself from the sheets. Bob was appreciating his long, cozy pajama pants and shirt more than usual.
A light flicked on in the dining room and the outline of his best friend, Margie, appeared. “Bob? Are you okay? You were yelling in your sleep and then I heard you fall.”
“Oh! Uh, I'm fine. Just... dandy. Nothing to worry about!”
Margaret walked over to Bob despite his weak reassurances. “Don't – don't touch me,” Bob said suddenly. “I think I got a little overexcited in my sleep. Wouldn't want to shock ya by accident.”
Margie sat beside Bob on the floor next to the couch. “Were you having a nightmare?”
“Yeah.” Bob grabbed a pillow from the couch and hugged it against his knees.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
Margie frowned, looking at her friend. It was unnerving to see him so quiet and subdued. After a moment, she said, “Are you okay? I mean, seriously. Every since all that nonsense with Miss Information, you've seemed really off.”
Bob had been fantasizing about the loose electrical wire in the maintenance room of his apartment building that he would sometimes mess with when the show was on break. Maybe if he could just get a good charge in, he could forget these stupid nightmares and for just a moment, all the bad memories would go away...
Bob shook his head. No. He had to stop this.
He looked over at Margie's shadowy figure sitting next to him in the near-darkness.
“Well?” she asked.
“Sorry,” Bob mumbled.
“What are you sorry for?” Margaret reached out a hand and Bob nodded. She placed her hand very gently on her friend's shoulder. She felt him flinch under her touch regardless. “You ought to be easier on yourself,” she said quietly. “No one expects you to be perfect.”
Bob had no qualms about being perfect, but it did seem like trouble followed him wherever he went these days. He just sighed and said, “You're a really great friend, you know that, Margie? Thanks for puttin' up with me.”
Margie shook her head. “Bob, no one puts up with you. I like you. Dad likes you. Even Jam likes you... though he probably wouldn't admit it to your face.” They both chuckled at that.
Margie felt Bob's shoulders relax a bit under her hand. “You know you can talk to me about anything,” she said.
Bob smiled, just a little. “I'll keep that in mind.”