Prologue: When your friend asks you for a "little favor", do not trust
I DON'T own Static Shock, Batman, Medabots or any related concept... yet!
HFH writes: Here I am with another weird fic! Be kind with me, I wrote this during a Psychoanalysis class (Freud this, Freud that, I become mad! XD) Anyways, I hope you like it
"Concentration and skills. There's no time to doubts. Courage. This separates winners from the rest..." he thought
-Argh! I lost again!!!- Richie cried. Metabee laid in the dust, while his enemy, a KBT Medabot named Arcbeetle, striked a winner pose. The teenager was alone, his bedroom was only illuminated by the monitor
-Stop celebrating, you damn! Oh my... I'm talking with a video game... O.o;;
-Richie...- Mr. Foley opened the door
He covered his face -Light! My eyes!
-Are you a vampire?- the man smiled- Hey son, I realized we never spent some time together and...
-I knew it! You are gonna divorce
-No! I just wanna talk with you...
-Are you sick? O.o
Mr. Foley grumped -I want to have a normal conversation with you. What's the big deal?
-Am I sick? O.O- Richie touched his forehead
-Whatever. I thought we should go together to somewhere... you are spending too much time with your video games. Your eyes will become square! You should do more gym, otherwise you'll look like a pregnant woman in 40 years
"Did Virgil talked with him about my future?". In fact, Static visited the future... and 54 years old Gear DOES look like a pregnant woman. Like a woman expecting triplets. Anyways, this father-and-son talk seemed suspicious. Everytime Mr. Foley says "gym" Richie ends sweaty, sore, and wishing he wasn't born. So, he asked: -Dad, what did you do?
-Well, remember when you wanted to swim?
-You forced me into it!
-That's not the way I remember it
-You pushed me! If that lifeguard wasn't there, I'd be dead right now
-Ejem. What about when we played football and...
-And I got a sprain? I couldn't walk in three days
-Beisbol! Remember when we...
-You hit me in a eye... I looked like a pirate with that bandage.
-All right! We'll go to a camp for a week. Fathers-and-sons only. You'll learn how to survive by your own, how to defeat nature. You'll learn how to be a man
-Alone in the woods and surrounded by other scared boys like me?- Richie smiled- Checkmate, dad
-Come on, this will help me to know more about you- Mr. Foley saw Richie was already going to answer- I know what are you gonna say: This is great, dad! It only took you 14 years!. Life is short, son, and I don't want to waste this chance. Please, Richie...
The teenager was shocked, and that was reasonable. How will you react if the world doesn't follow the rules of logic? If a chair starts to run or a elephant talks? His father wanted to spend more time with him. It seemed to be a fic writted by a mad authoress who... erm, nevermind! He smiled again- Okey, dad. But I gotta ask you something...
Mr. Foley smiled back -Yes, Richie?
-Are you sick? O.o
Virgil's bedroom
Friendship implicates sacrifices, and sometimes a friend doesn't give you anything in change. You can't apply that to Richie, thought. His best friend ever asked him to go with Mr. Hawkins to a camp. All because Mr. Foley wanted to fortify the weak bond between his son and himself. The result? an entire week sleeping in tents, doing his "private business" on the bushes, using a cactus as his toothbrush.
Friendship implicates sacrifices...
That's why Virgil didn't kill Richie using his powers, although he madly wished it.
A bunch of meta-breed a deficient security in jail - Static Shock and Gear Apocalypsis in Dakota. You don't need to have Richard's IQ to resolve this math exercise... that's why Virgil was going to ask a huge favor to the kind, friendly, sympathetic, I-smile-all-the-time superhero.
-What?- Batman's voice greetted
-Hello to you too, Batman. I'm alive, thanks for asking.
-Good. What's going on?
-Gear and I will travel, just for a week. If you could...
-I understand. Don't worry, I'll send Flash or one of the Titans. I hope you two have fun in... where?
-Hell, the name's Hell- Virgil sighed, the wish of killing Richie became stronger. Suddenly, Robert Hawkins entered. His surprised son released the "Batkie-Talkie", which ended under his bed.
-Are you talking with... nobody?
-No, I was talking with my... imaginary friend. Remember "Willy"? He just came to visit me...- Virgil sweatdropped. "What's worse? Talking with myself or with "Willy"? It doesn't matter, I look like a lunatic in both situations... And now I'm talking with myself again while my father's staring at me. Come on, Virgil. Say something!"
"But what?"
"Don't ask me, you idiot. I'm yourself"
"Great..."
Mr. Hawkins sighed -Ah, Virgil, our first camp together. You are growing up so fast... I still remeber when you woke me up at midnight, scared from "The Mounster From My Closet", with your pants all wet. It looks like it was yesterday- Robert rubbed Virgil's head, affectionately- You better start to pack, we'll leave tomorrow.
After his parent left, Static searched for the device. The damn thing was on -Please, tell me you didn't listen...
-Have fun. And don't forget to check your closet before you sleep- Batman said
The young superhero sighed. Friendship implicates sacrifices... but he was going to kill Richie.
End of Prologue