Virgil would never quite be certain how he had reached the phone when his legs felt like quicksand, or yell for his dad and sister when his lungs had apparently forgotten how to work, but some how he had. Now he sat on the couch, legs curled to his chest, shivering from fear and shock more than cold. Pops' girlfriend, Trina, sat next to him, talking to the paramedics and her fellow officers. Her words just flowed over him, not impacting him at all.
Pops himself stood behind his son, wanting nothing than to comfort his baby boy, pull Virgil into his arms and make all the nightmares go away. His work at the Center had taught him better though. Rape victims, and how odd to include his own child in that thought, often could not stand being touched, and Virgil still had a long and horrible ordeal before him.
"We should take you to the hospital now." Virgil ignored the paramedic who spoke, instead turning his head to look at his father sideways. "Did you call Rich? Is he coming?" His voice held the tremors of unshed tears.
Pops sighed, "Yes, but I really think you should lis..."
"Then I'll wait for him."
"Son..." Pops move closer to his son.
"No!" Virgil stiffened at the movement. He balled his fists and curled himself into a tighter ball. His superhero instincts were working overtime. His eyes kept darting around, looking for threats and keeping track of bodies. His ears were trained on the sounds coming from his room, and Sharon trying to hide her tears in the kitchen. The heat from Trina and Pops was more searing than Hotstreak's fireballs. There were too many variables to keep track of. "I'm not going anywhere with out Richie." Static needed Gear to watch his back.
The paramedic tried again. "Virgil, you could be going into shock, and you could have internal injuries. You need to get checked out."
"I'm. Not. Moving. From. This. Spot. With out. Richie." Each word had an edge to it that made the paramedic step back.
"Mr. Hawkins, you're his father. Surely you could..."
"Yes, I know, but maybe it's better..."
"Robert, we should..."
The voices kept fading in and out as the debate went on. Virgil didn't care. Where was Gear? He needed his Richie. He didn't even care he'd called Richie "his". He just needed Richie here, now, next him, watching his back like always.
A creak on the stairs made him jump. A csi had come down, the hideous card in an evidence bag. Virgil tried hard not to respond to the sight. Virgil had told the responding officers he hadn't touched the card. But he knew what would be inside. A picture, a Polaroid, of him, of him being... violated. Virgil never wanted to see that picture, ever. He wasn't even suppose to know about it. It wasn't common knowledge. The police had suppressed the evidence to weed out false confessions. Static, of course, already knew all about that.
Chief Barnsdale had asked Static and Gear for help in this matter. The possibility that this was the work of a bang baby had been becoming more likely with each attack. And now Virgil knew for sure. It had to be. Or at least he thought so. Maybe he was wrong. He needed Gear now, needed Richie's superbrain to sort out everything. Where is he?
Just then the front door slammed opened. All eyes fixed on Richie as the blond raced to his friend's side. "Virgil! What happened? Your dad just said you'd been attacked, that you wanted me. How bad is it?" Richie kept running his hand over Virgil's face, taking a good look at his partner. Bruises bloomed over both eyes. His lip, left cheek, and forehead were split. Finger and fingernail marks littered his shoulders. Gee, V. You look like hell. He didn't dare look any lower.
Virgil took one look at Richie's look and the tears he'd been holding back burst loose. "It w-was him. The Val-Valentine ra... He..." He couldn't go on. He didn't need to.
"Oh Virg. I'm... I'm sorry. Come on. Let's get you to hospital." He moved to pull Virgil up off the couch.
"Y-yeah." He let Rich help him up, clinging to his friend's hands like a lifeline. He didn't think he'd have the strength to let go any time soon.
"Finally." One paramedic muttered under his breath, obviously annoyed. Both boys glared at him. A 'sorry-for-inconveniencing-you-while-our-lives-are-being-turned-upside-down' glare. To the man's credit, he did look apologetic for the remark.
The other paramedic, the who had been trying to get Virgil to come with them, "Alright Virgil. You and your father can ride"
Virgil interrupted her. "No! I already told you, I'm not going anywhere with out Richie."
Robert looked-over the two boys. They didn't look like they were going to be separated with out a huge fight. Or a crowbar. Still... "Son, are you sure?"
Virgil nodded, face set, "Yeah." Robert nodded back, giving tacit approval.
"Well, if your father is okay with it, Richie can ride along. Your dad can meet you at the hospital." The woman smiled at him. He wished he could remember her name but such details were currently lost on him. The man, though, had some color-based name. Green or White, something the reminded him of Clue(r). He was glaring at the scene before him, not agreeing with his partner's decision, but not willing to object if it got them going.
"Okay, but can I say 'bye to Sharon first?"
"Virgil, I can take Sharon with me."
"I know, but..." Virgil couldn't explain the fear that if he didn't see her now, he might never have another chance. I'm just being paranoid. She'll be at the hospital. She'll come home with us when I'm released. She'll be making bad food that I can make fun of tomorrow. Why am I acting this way. But he couldn't help it. He had to see her be for he could leave. "please?"
The adults around him nodded as he dragged Richie to the kitchen where Sharon's sobs could still be heard. Anything to get Virgil going.
