Christmas Ritual
By Cypher
Man, what a way to spend the night before Christmas. Sure, I'm a super hero, and I expect to be called at all hours to battle all the bad-ass metahumans whenever, but even I take Christmas Eve off. It's one of the rituals Richie and I formed after the Big Bang. Every December twenty-fourth we hang out in the garage, exchange presents, and generally kick back re-reading our favorite holiday comics. Cool ritual, right?
Well, this year the ritual has been broken.
Holding a cup of hot cocoa, I take a seat on the old couch and tune into the images Backpack is projecting. Richie left him just for me, so I wouldn't be totally alone tonight. "Besides," Richie said, "Batman'll probably have something equivalent I can use."
Which is why I'm here alone, on Christmas Eve. The Justice League--Batman in particular--requested Gear's technical skills. And I was not invited, Batman made THAT very clear. And here I thought I was finally getting the guy to warm up to me. But no, I'm stuck here with a stupid robot that's replaying our last few battles.
This sucks. I suppose I could ask Backpack to change the image to a Yule log or some Christmas thing, or even a cartoon, but…without Rich, it's just not the same. He's my best bud, my bro…the reason I still fight. Believe me, if he hadn't kept pushing and supporting and helping me, I'd have gotten out of the crime fighting business a while back. Oh, I'd still do it, but I'd take time off. Richie wouldn't let me, as he pointed out that criminals don't rest, and disasters don't recognize holidays.
I pick up the Christmas issue of Plant Man and, setting my cup down, flip through it. It's a silly ritual, really. I mean, we could recite the dialogue if we wanted to, from any of these. Even the newer ones. In some ways, it's kinda pathetic. But we're comic geeks, and this is our ritual. I'd never ask anyone else to do this with me, not Daisy or Frieda or even my dad.
Just Richie.
Sighing, I toss the magazine back on the table and lean back. It's not like I care about the comics that much. That's not the point of tonight. It's the company, it's the two of us chillin' out in a comfortable atmosphere with no stress or threat of attack. Just him and me. Best friends. Buds. Brothers. I even blow off Daisy for this one night.
One call from Batman, though, and the whole thing falls to pieces.
Maybe I should just head home. I don't feel like hanging out here alone. Backpack is nice, but he's no Rich. I glance to the contraption in question, and raise my eyebrow at the projection currently being shown. It's the two of us, Rich's arm around my shoulders, mine around his. We obviously just beat someone, and we're posing for the camera, so to speak.
We look so happy, and I feel so…lonely. I contemplate asking Backpack to call up the Batcave or the Watchtower. It's been in both, so it wouldn't have much trouble. And that way I could at least say hi to my friend. With a wave, though, I dismiss the idea. It would just distract him, and for all I know he's helping build something to protect the Earth from invasion.
Yeah, heading home sounds like a good idea. I'll just put Backpack on recharge and walk back to my place. With luck, Dad's made some cookies, and we can…well, he likes to watch It's a Wonderful Life It's not an ideal evening, but it's better than sitting around here feeling miserable and abandoned.
After setting Backpack on the counter, I shrug on my coat as I head for the door. A flash of blond and teal is all I see before I end up on my back. Letting out a tense breath and charging up my hands, I get ready to hurl this weight on my chest away. I power down, however, when a shy grin framed by red cheeks moves into my view. "Richie?"
"You leaving? Got a hot date?" He gets off me and offers me a hand.
I take it and let him help me up. "No, I just…" I glance from him to the door. "What're you doing here?"
He pulls off his helmet and spreads out his arms. "I'm here for our Christmas Eve bash!"
"But what about Batman? What about that big important project?" I really can't see the Dark Knight letting anyone out for some 'bash.'
Richie simply shrugs and collapses into the seat I vacated a few minutes ago. "He really didn't have much say in the matter. I told him that no matter what I wasn't going to miss this evening, and before he could argue, Wonder Woman came in and dragged him off for some charity dance or something." His grin widens. "The look on his face was priceless, man. Simply priceless. She's totally got him on a leash."
I toss my coat to the table and sit next to my friend, who's still in his uniform and showing no signs of getting out of it. "But the big project..?"
"Ah, well, I have to go back and finish it, but you know me, Virg. Super genius. Got most of it done before he finished explaining what he wanted." He leans down and un-straps his skates, sliding them off and setting them by the edge of the couch. "So didja miss me?"
I'm tempted to tease him, to play into our usual game. When I open my mouth, though, it doesn't go quite as I plan. "Yeah," I say with a touch of hurt, "I did miss you. A lot."
He's giving me a surprised look, and I don't blame him. I feel just as surprised by what I said. "Wow, bro. I'm…sorry." He rubs the back of his head. "I mean, I had no idea this meant as much to you as it did to…" His sentence trails off, but we both know where it was going. Clearing his throat, he pulls out his glasses and puts them on, not deigning to look at me. Instead, he focuses on the issue of Plant Man I discarded earlier.
We both sit with an…awkward atmosphere about us. Neither of us can bear to look at the other, nor are either of us comfortable with breaking the silence permeating the room. This is…this is insane. We're friends, like brothers. Some stupid ritual shouldn't mean so much to the both of us.
Should it?
Finally, Richie sits up and looks at me. He stares, searching my face--for what, I'm not sure. Then, without warning, he reaches over and embraces me in a hug. I'm startled, but…I hug him back. I need it as much as he does, the feeling that we're here, that this night means something. What that meaning is…I'm not sure. I have an inkling, but I'm not ready to face that truth, not yet.
After a few minutes, we pull apart and Rich gets up, heading over to the thermos of hot chocolate on the work table. It's probably cold by now, but I can heat it up with a few sparks. Then we can get this night back on track, and sit around chatting and reading Christmas comics. With an exchange of smiles, that's exactly what we do.
Except this year, when he falls asleep against me, instead of waking him up…I leave him be.
Author's Prattle: This was one of a number of gifts I wrote out over the season for friends. You can all thank Sumsum for dragging me into the Static Shock verse. But….Gear is cute, and I just can't ignore the slashiness throughout the show. So this was one of my gifts to her.
Disclaimer. I don't own Static Shock. It's a subdivision of DC comics. I'm just using them in a creative exercise that makes my friend squeal with delight.
As always, I hope you enjoyed, and reviews are welcome.