Summary Richie's in pain because he loves Virgil but can't tell him. But does Virgil love Richie, too?
Disclaimer I do not own Static Shock. I also do not own Aladdin, which is where the concept for this story came from. And, if anyone catches the reference, I have no legal rights to the song "White Horse" by Taylor Swift. Perhaps excessive, but I just don't want to get sued. It would certainly ruin my day a little.
Rated T for language, slash and self-harm. Probably other things, too.
*This is a one-shot and a little bit of a crack!fic. Please don't strain too hard to find a plot because there really isn't one. The idea came from another story where Richie self-harmed and Aladdin. So, I decided to mix the ideas together, and got this! Please enjoy it!*
It's three forty-five in the morning and I don't know how much longer I can fight these urges. I told myself that I wouldn't do this to myself anymore, but I don't think I can hold off much longer. I'm sitting in my bed, staring at the television play Jackass on mute. At first, it was helping to divert my attention, but the affect is wearing off. The urges are getting stronger and I'm getting weaker. I need to do something before I cave.
I don't want to call Virgil because it's so late. I'm afraid I'll annoy him if I wake him up. I know how much he values his sleep when he's able to get it, so I don't want to take that away from him. Besides, he always looks so worn out at school, and I think his grades might be suffering because of it. The last thing he needs, and that I want for him, is to be worrying about me.
But I just don't know what to do. I sighed and looked down at my legs. I'm wearing a pair of boxers that barely cover my thighs, and hardly hide my previous failed attempts to ignore the urge. I cover my legs back up because looking at my scars isn't helping me to ignore these urges.
I'm supposed to be a super-genius, but I guess I'm not smart enough to figure that self-harming is the stupidest thing I could ever do. But sometimes I just need to. Sometimes I just get so stressed out, depressed and tired that it's the only way for me to release my emotions. I suppose I could go see a psychiatrist—and I probably should—but I don't want anyone to know that I'm not happy, because there's no reason why I should be unhappy.
I mean, I'm a superhero and a genius, which means I can get good grades in school without even trying very hard. I can be dead on my feet and still get an A on a test I didn't have time to study for. The same can't be said for Virgil, who tries to fit school in with being a superhero, but I don't think he's managed to make the time scheduling work yet.
Ah, man, I'm talking to myself. Just another item to add to the list of 'Why Richie is Crazy,' I guess. But at least it's helping me not submit to these urges. Now, I just need to make it until 6:45 so that I can meet Virgil for morning patrol and then I'm home free. At least until tomorrow when I have to fight these urges off again. One day at a time.
I guess I'm depressed from I don't have in my life. I don't have a relationship, my dad is an ass, and my only real friend is Virgil. I guess Daisy and Frieda are my friends, too, but I don't really hang out with them as much as Virgil does. I guess I could if I stopped making excuses about how I have homework to do, which isn't a lie, but it's just so taxing to be around people.
Not to mention, I really hate watching Virgil make himself look ridiculous when he's around Daisy. I get that he likes her but does he really have to try so fucking hard? She obviously likes him back so I don't see why they're skirting around dating. They should just do it. Not like I'm jealous of them or anything.
Well, okay, maybe I am a little bit jealous… but I'm not jealous of Virgil! I guess you could say that I'm jealous of Daisy… because Virgil likes her… and not me.
I guess I'm depressed because I love Virgil but I'll never be able to tell him. He'll never love me back. I mean, I suppose he could, but this isn't some cliché fairy tale world where everything goes right for the main character. I'm not the main character and this isn't a stupid fairy tale, and I'm just going to have to face that fact and move on.
But I can't move on. And the urges are getting strong. I sigh again and kick off the covers. Thinking about it, what does it really matter if I cut myself a couple more times? No one will notice and I'll be in a better mood. And I'll be able to tolerate seeing Virgil gush over Daisy for one more day. It's a win-win situation for everyone.
I reach over to my nightstand and fish out a small razor blade that I've had for a couple years now. Holding it between my fingertips, I sigh as I roll up my boxers to reveal mangled skin. It's not all my fault, though. A big part of it is from the bullet when I got shot last year. I just chose to start cutting there because it's kind of numb from nerve damage. I know it probably seems really ass-backwards to cut where you can't feel it, but I just wanted to see the blood; I don't really care too much about feeling pain.
I let out a long, satisfied sigh and return the razor to its home in my drawer. (I'll clean the razor later today.) Besides, I muse, watching the blood trickle down my leg, it's not like my thigh is completely numb. It's more pressure than actual sensation, which can hurt more, sometimes.
I'm feeling a little better now. Not the best, but I am really tired. I've only slept about an hour this whole night. I get up from the best and head to my bathroom to clean up. I wipe the blood away and cover the one inch wound with a Band-Aid. I used to clean the cuts afterward, but the razor is always clean so I don't bother with that anymore.
As I'm headed back to bed, I catch sight of something from the corner of my eye. I turn, and see Static hovering outside my window. I glace at my clock and see that it's only five. Patrol isn't for an hour and forty five more minutes, so what could he possibly want? I slip into my pajama pants before I go to find out.
"What are you doing here?" I ask as Static hovers at eye level with me. I lean against the frame of the window.
Static shrugged and peered into my room, glancing around and then standing up straight again. What was he looking for, I wondered. "I thought maybe you'd want to go for a ride," Static said and crossed his arms. He wasn't wearing his jacket so I watched as the muscles in his arms flexed.
I raised my eyebrow. I was really confused at this point. Why was Static hovering outside of my window at five in the morning just assuming that I wanted to go for ride? So I asked. "Um… why would you just assume that?"
Static shifted and shrugged again. He almost looked uncomfortable and I couldn't help but wonder why. "I mean, unless you don't trust me?" he asked as a slight grin appeared across his lips.
So he was going to pull that, the trust card. I shot him a look before retreating into my room to grab some clothes, and I could feel Static's accomplished grin forming on his face and running raising the hairs on my back.
When I returned to my window, Static held out a hand to me. The grin on his face had fallen into a mere smile. I accepted the offered hand, climbing onto my windowsill and then on his saucer. I wrapped my arms around his waist to keep from falling. He was so muscular and toned and I should have felt ashamed for liking it so much.
"Where are we going?" I asked as we flew over the wonderfully lit city of Dakota. It was a little windy so I had to raise my voice some in order to be heard.
Static glanced back at me for a second and grinned again. "A place," he answered, chuckling just loud enough for his body to vibrate. He knew I hated surprises. What could he possibly have planned? And he was certainly chuckling and grinning a lot for someone who seemed nervous while hovering outside my window.
But I went along with it. At least I wasn't thinking about cutting anymore. Anything was better than fighting off urges of self-harm.
It was then that I panicked because I couldn't help but wonder just how long Static had been at my window, and just how much he had seen me do. I wonder if he heard anything I'd said when I was talking to myself. He probably did. That would be just my luck. Oh, my God.
But before I could take my thoughts any further, we landed in a vacant field just outside the city. We were next to a large oak tree and beside a pond with a duck, to be exact. I didn't even know this place was here, but it was awful nice, especially from the rising sun reflecting on the water.
Static put his disc in his pants pocket. He usually put it in the pocket of his jacket, but like I said, he wasn't wearing it. Then he took his mask off and stashed it in his pocket as well. I obviously looked really confused because he started explaining himself.
"I wanted to bring you someplace nice," Virgil explained to me. "I've been thinking about some stuff..." he said, standing face to face with me. He went to say something else, but cut himself off. He was obviously thinking, so I didn't interrupt him. Finally, he started talking again, sort of drawing out his words, as if to make sure he were saying the right ones. "I've been thinking," he said again, "and… you're a very important person to me, Richie."
"You're…" I begin to say, but trailed off because a hand was put in my face.
"Let me finish," he said calmly and put his hand down. He stared at me for a moment before continuing his speech, crossing his arms. "I was out with Daisy yesterday, and I got to thinking last night and I realized something." He stuck his tongue up into his upper lip and looked down at the ground. I wanted to see what he was looking at but I watched his dreads instead.
He looked back up at me finally. I watched Virgil's eyes dart from my eyes to my lips and back again, as if he were debating something. He finally spoke up and said "Please promise you won't hurt yourself anymore" somberly, and laid his hand on my thigh, maintaining eye contact. I quivered because it hurt, almost unbearably. And all I could do was nod, because I was in a shock from the fact that Virgil had seen me cut myself. And I was sure that if I tried to speak, I would cry. Had Virgil brought me all the way out here for this?
But Virgil seemed to believe me when I nodded (at least for now), because he went on with his previous topic, not removing his hand from my thigh. Maybe he was trying to make a point. Show that he was serious about me stopping. Oh, the pain was unbearable. The fact that he was now creating shocks of electricity against my thigh wasn't helping either. They were tiny, not harmful (except that they hurt when against scars) electric bolts, but it was still electricity. And it still hurt like hell. I would have been pissed about what he was doing, would have pulled away, but...
The the pain went away. Not because he removed his hand or quit with the electricity, but because of what he said. "I was out with Daisy yesterday and I realized something." He paused, his chocolate brown eyes filling with an emotion I had only ever seen when he looked at Daisy. But it was abounding now. "I realized it's not Daisy that I love…" Virgil bit his lip and glanced down at the ground.
It didn't take a genius to figure out Virgil was in love with one.
I pulled Virgil to me, my arms around his neck, and pressed my lips passionately to his. Thankfully, he responded by deepening the passion and humming quietly and contentedly. He wrapped his arms tightly around my back, thankfully not touching my hip anymore.
We could talk about the fancy details later. Right now, being right here with Virgil was the most amazing thing I never thought would happen.
Remember that thing I said about fairy tales? Well, sometimes I guess you do get to be the main character… and sometimes the things that are statistically completely improbable… can happen, too.
*I hope you enjoyed it. I know I did. Please review! Thanks!*