Disclaimer: Still don't own Static Shock

Chapter Two: Running Away - Hoobastank

It had been five years since the Big Bang. Four since Ebon's second staged Bang, dubbed the Encore. Three since Teresa Garcia and Francis Stone had left Dakota and moved to Gotham.

It was these milestones that ran through Teresa's mind now, as she sat in their apartment. At the time, they had been so young. Francis really young. He was eighteen. Teresa was twenty. They had been dating and running for their lives.

Three years ago it had seemed terrifying and exhilarating. Their relationship was hot and heavy and they depended on each other for everything. Then they had left Dakota when Ebon put a price on Francis' head and every newly created metahuman had tried to tear the pyro apart.

But that was three years ago. Three long years ago. Teresa hated to think it, she loathed the very thought for crossing her mind, but their relationship was driving itself into the ground. Francis worked two jobs, lying about his age and name, hiding his powers, and it was all for her.

Teresa worked nearly twelve hour days. She and Francis were so exhausted when they got home, if they were even home at the same times, that they barely talked or did anything for each other anymore. They were still so young. Teresa saw the faraway look in Francis' eyes. He was moving away from her.

She loved him. Teresa knew Francis loved her too, even if he had never said it. He had trouble saying things like that.

For the first time in nearly three years, Teresa had taken the day off from work. When Francis got back from his double shift at the mechanics down the block, they were going to talk. If he wanted to leave, and he had a damn good reason for it, Teresa wouldn't stop him. But if it was because they were tired and drifting…that could be fixed. She would make the effort. This relationship could be saved.

Teresa heard Francis pounding up the stairs. He pushed open the door, his back to Teresa. Francis kicked his shoes off and turned. He stopped short at the sight of his girlfriend sitting calmly at the kitchen table, a cup of tea sitting untouched in front of her.

"T?" Francis asked, shrugging his jacket off. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Teresa smiled, despite the thoughts racing through her mind. Francis had a grease stain smudged across his forehead and he was completely oblivious to it. It was adorable.

"I wanted to talk to you." Teresa glanced at the empty seat across from her.

Francis looked nervous suddenly but he crossed the room, pulled the chair out, spun it around, and straddled it. He waited for Teresa to start.

Teresa studied her boyfriend for a moment. His hair, cropped short and dyed a white blond. Deep, dark circles under his eyes. But those same green eyes were bright and clear. He was so young.

"Do you want to break up with me?" Teresa asked, point blank. Why bother beating around the bush?

Francis looked away, out the window, at the ceiling…anywhere but at Teresa. "I…yeah I think so."

Teresa nodded. "Can you tell me why?"

Francis looked at her again. "I'm not happy, you're not happy. What other reason is there?"

Running her finger along the rim of her teacup, Teresa shook her head. "I think you're taking the cheap way out."

Francis jerked his head up, mouth opening in protest. Teresa cut him off. "No, let me finish. I've been thinking a lot about this. We are in a three and half year relationship and we've never gone to that next level. I love you Francis and you don't have to say it back, I understand. " Francis looked grateful. "But beyond our initial lust we haven't discussed where this relationship is heading, what our feelings are, what we want, what our desires are, our dreams, our hopes. Relationships are supposed to hit that next level. That's how they grow and last." Teresa took a deep breath. "We hit a plateau and we never tried to get past it. If you're willing to give that next level a try, so am I." She looked directly at Francis. "I want to try."

Francis shook his head and stood. "I'm sorry T. I am. It's not you, it's me and I don't mean that in the cheesy break-up way. It's true. I can't do this." He stalked to the door.

"What are you running from?" Teresa followed after him.

Francis whirled on her. "Do you want the truth! Is that you want? You really want me to say it?" He grabbed her arms. Teresa saw the fury Francis worked hard to keep dormant bubbling to surface.

"Yes, that's what I want." Stay calm and Francis will be calm. He'll force himself. It was a well-practiced routine.

"I...I…love you too. But it's been eating at me for three years and I can't take it anymore." Francis paused. "I'm going back to Dakota."

If Teresa had been expecting to hear something, that wasn't it. "What?" The weight of what he had said hit her. "You want to fight Ebon."

Francis let go of her and stepped back. "You can't do that. He's got half the metahumans in the city backing him. It'd be like going up against a little army. It'd be suicide!" Teresa felt a panic rise in her.

"Not if I had Static and Gear with me." Francis said slowly.

"Do you?" Teresa was surprised.

Francis nodded.

"You've been talking with them?"

Another nod. "For the past few months. I'm going."

Teresa latched herself to Francis' chest. "No, you'll die. You'll all die. Ebon won't let you walk away. I won't let you. You've been trying to distance yourself from me for months so you could walk away and I wouldn't be hurt when you didn't come back. You selfish bastard, I won't let you."

Francis rested his head on top of hers and wrapped his strong arms around her. "I have to. For me, for Dakota. That place has gotten even shittier. Static and Gear can't keep all the new metahumans in line. We need to take down the leader, than the rest will fall."

Teresa's back shook as she began sobbing silently. The front of Francis' shirt grew wet. He rubbed her back and waited.

After a moment, Teresa tugged on Francis' shirt, pulling him into the kitchen. She wet a cloth and cupped Francis' chin with one hand, dabbing the grease stain from his forehead, tears still silently streaming down her face. A trickle of water from the washcloth ran down Francis' cheek, mirroring her own tears.

Francis leaned down and kissed Teresa on the forehead. She pulled her head down to kiss him on the lips. Francis steered her towards the bedroom.

Dawn had just cracked over the skyscrapers of Gotham. A soft morning light crept in the bedroom window of Teresa Garcia and Francis Stone's apartment. Teresa herself lay entangled in the blankets, a smile on her sleeping face. For the first time in months, she looked blissfully happy.

Francis felt a smile of his own form as he stared at his sleeping girlfriend, trying to remember her as she was at this perfect moment. He was fully clothed and a full backpack was slung over his shoulder.

In that early morning hour, when everything is a soft gray and the world is still deep in slumber, Francis ran away.

Author's Note:

I tried to upload this three days ago but FF decided it didn't like the file. Harumph.

Anyway, what do you think? This chapter was supposed to head in a completely different direction but as I was writing, this came out. Kinda serious and melancholy huh?

PLEASE REVIEW!