Disclaimer: Disclaimed.
A/N: Another chapter, yet how could I not with so many great reviews. Speaking of reviews...again, thank you everyone who has taken the time to read and review my story. Oh, and as for the review submitted by Anonymous, you have no idea how close your suggestions are to what I've already planned. Now, on to the story.
# # #
Static Force Chapter 2: Repercussions
Teresa Gardner made her way home at a brisk pace, a shudder a fear and apprehension painting her eyes as she tried to hide the sense of utter horror from the average passerby on the somewhat crowded street. Average was how she liked it. Since her body had returned to normal, the feathers having disappeared with her powers, she was happily, unerringly average...and that was how she wanted it.
But that hadn't stopped the fear. Fear that caused her to jump at every little shadow, half expecting it to be Ebon calling her back or wanting revenge for her betrayal. The shiver that ran up her spine whenever a strange noise that held no source echoed in the dead of night. But those were merely her waking fears and never touched upon the nightmares that plagued her dreams. For now, she was living one such nightmare.
Reaching her house at a near run, Teresa entered the one-story, two bedroom home she shared with her mother and sister; the same home she had not seen in nearly a year and a half. As a child, she never minded living in the projects. But growing older she was greeted by the harsh reality of teenage cruelty. Harassed and ridiculed by her classmates for the clothes she wore, she often found herself wishing her family could have the money to afford a decent life. But wishes, like dreams, abandon everyone.
It wasn't her fault that her father abandoned them when she was too young to remember the man. Nor was it her fault that her mother had been forced to work in the corner convenient store to provide barely enough money for the three of them to survive. But her lack of fashionable attire and poor upbringing made her a target of all of her classmates. That day, the day of the Big Bang, had been a horrible day at school. And so having cried herself dry, she made her way along the docks to clear her mind, and met with the strange mutating gas that altered her body. If her classmates mocked her for her clothes, they'd never let her survive High School after having sprouted feathers. Knowing that, she ran away from home and found companionship in the only place she knew, with Ebon's gang of freaks and miscreants.
But that was a lifetime ago, and a hundred or more evil deeds and one good one she performed in the hopes of redeeming herself. She was normal now, back with her family where she was loved for who she was, not what brand name was on her jeans. But as she entered the bedroom she shared with her sister, she closed the door and hurried towards the mirror, quickly pulling the hem of her cotton shirt up just above her stomach. The sight caused her heart to stop with a sudden, fearful realization as she stared at the three feathers that had sprouted from her skin.
"No," Teresa said, her breath coming in quick, rapid gulps as she saw the horrifying truth before her. "Oh God no...don't let it happen again. Please God, don't do this to me again." She begged as she stared at the truth before her, no longer able to see her image in the mirror through the tears that clouded her eyes. "NOOOOOO!"
# # #
Static knew he had had better days than this. Not only did Ebon, Hotstreak and company, ambush him but he was foolish enough to allow himself to fly right into it. To top it all off, he and Gear had apparently lost the fight, being outnumbered and outmaneuvered in the battle he was sure lasted far shorter than he was willing to admit.
For one fleeting moment he imagined this was only a bad dream, but the coppery taste that continued to taint his tongue destroyed those illusions as the burning pain in his side brought his mind into sharper focus.
'Oh yeah,' Static nearly laughed at the thought that had slipped from his mind and returned fully with the nauseous wave of pain. 'They're going to kill us.'
"Any last words before I send you to the big light bulb in the sky heroes?" Ebon mocked, coming to stand mere feet from the fallen companions.
"Yeah, I got something to say." Gear moaned and he struggled to his knees, his head swimming with the need to pass out, but his will keeping his mind focused. "I'll give you guys one chance to surrender."
The combined laughter of the five villains caused Static's head to feel as if it were about to split in half. The pain in his body was horrifying, but he struggled inch-by-inch to turn his head to face his partner.
"I have to admit Gear, you got clusters the size of bowling balls talking back like that. I admire that. Don't think that I'm not still going to kill ya because I am. But thanks for the laugh." Ebon sneered, his eyes squinting to mere slits as he glared down at his prey.
"Don't say I didn't warn you." Gear managed to spit the words out despite his weakened state, and his with left had he clutched the shoulder of Static's jacket, gripping a handful of the material tightly. "Hold on V!"
With his free hand, Gear reached to the collar of his suit and pulled it away just enough to reveal the black chocker beneath, a strange, pulsating gemstone illuminating the spot within the center of the material. With what little he had left of his quickly fading strength, Gear tore the material away, and unleashed Hell.
It was a power that Static had never seen and could only describe as a mating of the forces of nature with an act of God. The energy that was released from the tech-genius blasted everything within the vicinity; benches, store merchandise, trash receptacles and villains, and spun them all in a swirling storm of temporal forces Static was unable to fathom. And at the eye of the storm was Gear, his body shaking violently as he tried desperately to control the surging power.
But just as quickly as it began it ended, the power having overcome Gear as he fell to the floor. Objects both organic and inorganic fell haphazardly from whatever position they currently occupied in the torrent air and landed in a great heap on the ground. The disabling distraction had given Static enough time to collect himself as he painfully rose to his feet and pocketed the strange necklace Gear had torn from his neck.
Shaking his head in confusion of what just happened and regretting it horribly from the headache that resurfaced, the electric-powered teenager leaned carefully over his partner and checked his condition. Satisfied that Gear was merely unconscious, Static used his left hand to summon his flying disk and gently lifted Gear to a standing position with his left arm, his right being held closely to his side to protect his injured ribs.
As he watched the Meta-breed beginning to rouse from their unexpected trip to Oz, Static hoisted his partner over his left shoulder and stepped carefully on his board to center his gravity before taking off. He was badly injured, Gear was unconscious and there was no way he could defeat the Meta-breed should they fully awaken. All that could be done was admit defeat and determine the next move.
But for now that next move was to get back to the gas station and check their injuries, and he knew he had to hurry as the pain in his side threatened to overtake him. He was surprised when he made it back to headquarters faster than expected, though he couldn't help but think that his distracted thoughts made the journey go so much faster.
Ebon had brought together a team that, on solo occasions had caused him and Gear a great deal of trouble, but now were banded together with one purpose in mind, to destroy him. He wasn't thrilled with that thought at all.
Entering the gas station and thankful to rid himself of the burden of Gear's weight, Virgil took his mask off and collapsed on the couch, wincing horribly at the pain of his injuries. With great difficulty he removed the choker from his pocket and struggled to put it back on Ritchie. He had some idea that whatever happened at the mall was the result of removing the necklace, thus keeping it attached might prevent the same catastrophe from occurring here.
Once satisfied his best friend was comfortable, Virgil struggled to remove his coat and looked worriedly at the bloodstain that had bled through his shirt. Placing his left hand over the spot of his injuries and pressing in an attempt to stop the trickle of blood, the young man had to bite his lip to keep from screaming in pain.
"Damn it!" He moaned as he fell to the side and landed against the desk to steady himself. "Oh Hell...that hurt bad."
"I can imagine." The slow, croaky voice of Gear speaking from the couch drew Virgil's attention from his own pain. "I wouldn't recommend doing that again V."
"Yeah, I can imagine you wouldn't." Virgil said, coughing slightly and spitting a trickle of blood from his mouth. "I feel awful."
"I'm not much better I'm afraid. That took a lot out of me." Gear said weakly, trying to sit up before finally reserving himself to remain laying down.
"So what exactly was that?" Virgil asked his friend, his eyes studying the prone form of his partner.
"Remember when I asked you if you had any adverse reactions to the gas?"
"Uh huh."
"That was the adverse reaction I was referring to." Gear said, removing his helmet to make himself a bit more comfortable.
"So what was it?"
"Telekinesis, or in laymen's terms, a shit storm." Ritchie replied, holding his forehead and kneading it with his hand in an attempt to ease the pain.
"But you never got that from the gas before? Why now?"
"I never had that reaction to the gas before because I never had contact with the gas to begin with bro." Ritchie chuckled as he stared at the confused look on his best friend's face. "Remember, I became a Bang Baby off the gas you carried on your clothes. With the time between the Big Bang and meeting up, most of it probably dissipated in the air, so I got only a small dose of it, or more precisely, I got it second hand.
"But on the ship, I got the full blast of the gas, and as you can see, what happened back there was the result." Ritchie said, bringing his hands to his eyes and forcefully rubbing them the balls of his hands in an effort to bring the room into clearer focus.
Virgil furrowed his brow as he stared at the suffering youth, trying to make sense of the situation. "So what's with the necklace thing?" He asked, chuckling now himself as he watched Ritchie's hand go instinctively to his neck. "Don't worry bro, I put it back on. Something told me it was probably what I needed to do."
"No kidding." Ritchie sighed as he returned to his relaxed position. "I made this a while back, when I first got my powers. It's a Power Inhibitor, and helped me control the hundreds of ideas and thoughts that were flooding my mind. Well now I use it to control the telekinesis."
"Do you really need that thing though?"
"Yeah I do." The blond haired boy sighed. "Do you remember when I first got my powers and I told you that my mind felt like it was on fire? That I had a thousand different ideas popping in my head every minute. Well now it's worse. When I actually got a blast of the gas itself, I became twice as smart as I was before. The average person only uses between 10-12% of their brain. At my present capacity I'm using about 38%, and it may be more as the gas works its way into my system."
"Damn Rich, just how powerful are you?" Virgil asked; shocked and stunned at the revelation of the impact the gas had on his friend.
"Not as powerful as you think V, certainly not as powerful as you. The difference is you can control your power because you're in control of your mind. Without the inhibitor, my brain is overwhelmed by how active my mind is and I can't focus. So when I took it off, my power went nuts. That's also why I'm looking so tired. Even with the power inhibitor I can't stop all the flooding thoughts and ideas that bounce around inside my head, and because of that I can't sleep. It's not a big deal though; I expect my body will eventually adjust."
"So, can you even do the telekinesis with that necklace thing on?"
"Yeah, but only small objects now, and it can only be solid matter. I can't redirect energy or stuff like that, at least not yet. But I'm not all that crazy to try it out either. Every time I use it my head feels like it's going to split along the seem."
"Well hopefully we won't need to use it again Rich, but it's good to know it's there just in case." Virgil said, wincing after realizing the pain in his side hadn't decreased despite his preoccupation with Ritchie's story. "Dude, we gotta do something to patch ourselves up. We're both in pretty bad shape, not to mention my pops is going to have my hide if I come in looking like this."
Ritchie frowned slightly as he stared at his friend, his mind already working a solution to their current dilemma. Sighing in resignation as if coming to a hard and difficult solution he finally voiced his worrisome response. "Shenice."
"Huh?" The dark skinned young man asked, his eyes staring questionably at his partner as one eyebrow arched as if not understanding he heard him correctly. "What about her?"
"Not her, her parents." Ritchie said as if wondering if this was the right course. Shebang was talented, that neither of them could deny. But it was her gung-ho, over eager personality that caused the duo to put some space between them and her. And Ritchie knew as well as Virgil, that if they involved her parents, they'd involve her. "Dude, her folks are doctors. They could fix us up, and seeing as how their darling little sweetheart is a super hero as well, they're not about to blab. We can trust them to keep all this secret."
"Hold on bro, her folks are scientists. You sure they're going to know how to fix up some scrapes and bruises?"
"Oh, you mean like broken ribs?" Ritchie answered back, cringing himself as he watched Virgil struggle to remain standing and wishing he had the energy to move so he could share the couch. "Besides, their not ordinary scientists, they're genetic engineers, they have to know a Hell of a lot about medicine and biology, at least more than we do. I could probably patch you, if I had a medical book in front of me, but this is the fastest way we can get out of this situation. You don't want to that's fine, but if we go to a normal doctor they'll ask a bunch of questions, and how do you think we could explain this? Dude, you've got broken ribs and I'm lucky if I just have a concussion."
Virgil closed his eyes, wishing the pain would subside long enough for him to come up with an alternative, but nothing presented itself. Coughing heavily as he attempted to sigh, he nodded his head, wishing there was some other way. "Alright, call them in."
# # #
Troy Carlson paced the length of the small, barely habitable living quarters he had called home for the past three months. The South Welmington Federal Penitentiary was anything but habitable; in fact he hated everything about this place. The guards, the walls, the inmates, the food...Hell, he even hated the damn T.V. as it reminded him of freedom.
It wasn't his fault he was here. He blamed it on his former running buddy; former gangbanger turned pro football player, Dule Jones. He tried to squeeze a bit of money the former ganger turned righteous athlete had owed him, but he turned on him, along with a countless number of arena football stars that found the need to gang pile him, not to mention the two flying freaks, Static and Gear.
Yeah, he hated them too. He could use his powers to escape, but what was the point? Everyone from the state police to the F.B.I. would be hunting him down. So he was stuck in this Godforsaken hellhole of a prison, waiting until some idiot bureaucrat realized he only did what he did because he wanted to collect what was his. Dule betrayed him, and that kind of betrayal wasn't excusable by the street code they both lived by before he got famous.
Troy was so wrapped up in his own hate that he was unaware of the growing shadow that inked his way across the floor from beneath his cot. Not until he sensed the presence of another person in his cell did he turn around to face the inky-black shadow of the figure before him.
"Who the Hell are you?" Troy said, taking a few angry steps backwards before exposing nearly one dozen metallic tentacles from his back, preparing to strike out at the intruder should the need arise. Life in prison had taught him to be cautious and never expose his back.
"Easy chief. The name's Ebon." The shadow master said, staring at the villain before him, a smile donning the shadowing image of his face.
"Yeah, well I don't care who the hell you are. I'll give you three seconds to get out before I throw you out!"
"I doubt that junior." Ebon mocked as he slid closer the man before him. "But I'm not here to fight."
Slowly, yet cautiously, Troy retracted the powerful tendrils within his body and stared suspiciously at the intruder. "Then what you want?"
"That depends. If you're named Chainlink, then I have some business I'd like to discuss."
-To be continued
# # #
A/N: I wasn't sure what Teresa and Troy's last names were, they were never given in the cartoons so I made some up. Hope you all like it, and I'm sure you can tell, everything's about to hit the fan...heh heh heh.
A/N: Another chapter, yet how could I not with so many great reviews. Speaking of reviews...again, thank you everyone who has taken the time to read and review my story. Oh, and as for the review submitted by Anonymous, you have no idea how close your suggestions are to what I've already planned. Now, on to the story.
# # #
Static Force Chapter 2: Repercussions
Teresa Gardner made her way home at a brisk pace, a shudder a fear and apprehension painting her eyes as she tried to hide the sense of utter horror from the average passerby on the somewhat crowded street. Average was how she liked it. Since her body had returned to normal, the feathers having disappeared with her powers, she was happily, unerringly average...and that was how she wanted it.
But that hadn't stopped the fear. Fear that caused her to jump at every little shadow, half expecting it to be Ebon calling her back or wanting revenge for her betrayal. The shiver that ran up her spine whenever a strange noise that held no source echoed in the dead of night. But those were merely her waking fears and never touched upon the nightmares that plagued her dreams. For now, she was living one such nightmare.
Reaching her house at a near run, Teresa entered the one-story, two bedroom home she shared with her mother and sister; the same home she had not seen in nearly a year and a half. As a child, she never minded living in the projects. But growing older she was greeted by the harsh reality of teenage cruelty. Harassed and ridiculed by her classmates for the clothes she wore, she often found herself wishing her family could have the money to afford a decent life. But wishes, like dreams, abandon everyone.
It wasn't her fault that her father abandoned them when she was too young to remember the man. Nor was it her fault that her mother had been forced to work in the corner convenient store to provide barely enough money for the three of them to survive. But her lack of fashionable attire and poor upbringing made her a target of all of her classmates. That day, the day of the Big Bang, had been a horrible day at school. And so having cried herself dry, she made her way along the docks to clear her mind, and met with the strange mutating gas that altered her body. If her classmates mocked her for her clothes, they'd never let her survive High School after having sprouted feathers. Knowing that, she ran away from home and found companionship in the only place she knew, with Ebon's gang of freaks and miscreants.
But that was a lifetime ago, and a hundred or more evil deeds and one good one she performed in the hopes of redeeming herself. She was normal now, back with her family where she was loved for who she was, not what brand name was on her jeans. But as she entered the bedroom she shared with her sister, she closed the door and hurried towards the mirror, quickly pulling the hem of her cotton shirt up just above her stomach. The sight caused her heart to stop with a sudden, fearful realization as she stared at the three feathers that had sprouted from her skin.
"No," Teresa said, her breath coming in quick, rapid gulps as she saw the horrifying truth before her. "Oh God no...don't let it happen again. Please God, don't do this to me again." She begged as she stared at the truth before her, no longer able to see her image in the mirror through the tears that clouded her eyes. "NOOOOOO!"
# # #
Static knew he had had better days than this. Not only did Ebon, Hotstreak and company, ambush him but he was foolish enough to allow himself to fly right into it. To top it all off, he and Gear had apparently lost the fight, being outnumbered and outmaneuvered in the battle he was sure lasted far shorter than he was willing to admit.
For one fleeting moment he imagined this was only a bad dream, but the coppery taste that continued to taint his tongue destroyed those illusions as the burning pain in his side brought his mind into sharper focus.
'Oh yeah,' Static nearly laughed at the thought that had slipped from his mind and returned fully with the nauseous wave of pain. 'They're going to kill us.'
"Any last words before I send you to the big light bulb in the sky heroes?" Ebon mocked, coming to stand mere feet from the fallen companions.
"Yeah, I got something to say." Gear moaned and he struggled to his knees, his head swimming with the need to pass out, but his will keeping his mind focused. "I'll give you guys one chance to surrender."
The combined laughter of the five villains caused Static's head to feel as if it were about to split in half. The pain in his body was horrifying, but he struggled inch-by-inch to turn his head to face his partner.
"I have to admit Gear, you got clusters the size of bowling balls talking back like that. I admire that. Don't think that I'm not still going to kill ya because I am. But thanks for the laugh." Ebon sneered, his eyes squinting to mere slits as he glared down at his prey.
"Don't say I didn't warn you." Gear managed to spit the words out despite his weakened state, and his with left had he clutched the shoulder of Static's jacket, gripping a handful of the material tightly. "Hold on V!"
With his free hand, Gear reached to the collar of his suit and pulled it away just enough to reveal the black chocker beneath, a strange, pulsating gemstone illuminating the spot within the center of the material. With what little he had left of his quickly fading strength, Gear tore the material away, and unleashed Hell.
It was a power that Static had never seen and could only describe as a mating of the forces of nature with an act of God. The energy that was released from the tech-genius blasted everything within the vicinity; benches, store merchandise, trash receptacles and villains, and spun them all in a swirling storm of temporal forces Static was unable to fathom. And at the eye of the storm was Gear, his body shaking violently as he tried desperately to control the surging power.
But just as quickly as it began it ended, the power having overcome Gear as he fell to the floor. Objects both organic and inorganic fell haphazardly from whatever position they currently occupied in the torrent air and landed in a great heap on the ground. The disabling distraction had given Static enough time to collect himself as he painfully rose to his feet and pocketed the strange necklace Gear had torn from his neck.
Shaking his head in confusion of what just happened and regretting it horribly from the headache that resurfaced, the electric-powered teenager leaned carefully over his partner and checked his condition. Satisfied that Gear was merely unconscious, Static used his left hand to summon his flying disk and gently lifted Gear to a standing position with his left arm, his right being held closely to his side to protect his injured ribs.
As he watched the Meta-breed beginning to rouse from their unexpected trip to Oz, Static hoisted his partner over his left shoulder and stepped carefully on his board to center his gravity before taking off. He was badly injured, Gear was unconscious and there was no way he could defeat the Meta-breed should they fully awaken. All that could be done was admit defeat and determine the next move.
But for now that next move was to get back to the gas station and check their injuries, and he knew he had to hurry as the pain in his side threatened to overtake him. He was surprised when he made it back to headquarters faster than expected, though he couldn't help but think that his distracted thoughts made the journey go so much faster.
Ebon had brought together a team that, on solo occasions had caused him and Gear a great deal of trouble, but now were banded together with one purpose in mind, to destroy him. He wasn't thrilled with that thought at all.
Entering the gas station and thankful to rid himself of the burden of Gear's weight, Virgil took his mask off and collapsed on the couch, wincing horribly at the pain of his injuries. With great difficulty he removed the choker from his pocket and struggled to put it back on Ritchie. He had some idea that whatever happened at the mall was the result of removing the necklace, thus keeping it attached might prevent the same catastrophe from occurring here.
Once satisfied his best friend was comfortable, Virgil struggled to remove his coat and looked worriedly at the bloodstain that had bled through his shirt. Placing his left hand over the spot of his injuries and pressing in an attempt to stop the trickle of blood, the young man had to bite his lip to keep from screaming in pain.
"Damn it!" He moaned as he fell to the side and landed against the desk to steady himself. "Oh Hell...that hurt bad."
"I can imagine." The slow, croaky voice of Gear speaking from the couch drew Virgil's attention from his own pain. "I wouldn't recommend doing that again V."
"Yeah, I can imagine you wouldn't." Virgil said, coughing slightly and spitting a trickle of blood from his mouth. "I feel awful."
"I'm not much better I'm afraid. That took a lot out of me." Gear said weakly, trying to sit up before finally reserving himself to remain laying down.
"So what exactly was that?" Virgil asked his friend, his eyes studying the prone form of his partner.
"Remember when I asked you if you had any adverse reactions to the gas?"
"Uh huh."
"That was the adverse reaction I was referring to." Gear said, removing his helmet to make himself a bit more comfortable.
"So what was it?"
"Telekinesis, or in laymen's terms, a shit storm." Ritchie replied, holding his forehead and kneading it with his hand in an attempt to ease the pain.
"But you never got that from the gas before? Why now?"
"I never had that reaction to the gas before because I never had contact with the gas to begin with bro." Ritchie chuckled as he stared at the confused look on his best friend's face. "Remember, I became a Bang Baby off the gas you carried on your clothes. With the time between the Big Bang and meeting up, most of it probably dissipated in the air, so I got only a small dose of it, or more precisely, I got it second hand.
"But on the ship, I got the full blast of the gas, and as you can see, what happened back there was the result." Ritchie said, bringing his hands to his eyes and forcefully rubbing them the balls of his hands in an effort to bring the room into clearer focus.
Virgil furrowed his brow as he stared at the suffering youth, trying to make sense of the situation. "So what's with the necklace thing?" He asked, chuckling now himself as he watched Ritchie's hand go instinctively to his neck. "Don't worry bro, I put it back on. Something told me it was probably what I needed to do."
"No kidding." Ritchie sighed as he returned to his relaxed position. "I made this a while back, when I first got my powers. It's a Power Inhibitor, and helped me control the hundreds of ideas and thoughts that were flooding my mind. Well now I use it to control the telekinesis."
"Do you really need that thing though?"
"Yeah I do." The blond haired boy sighed. "Do you remember when I first got my powers and I told you that my mind felt like it was on fire? That I had a thousand different ideas popping in my head every minute. Well now it's worse. When I actually got a blast of the gas itself, I became twice as smart as I was before. The average person only uses between 10-12% of their brain. At my present capacity I'm using about 38%, and it may be more as the gas works its way into my system."
"Damn Rich, just how powerful are you?" Virgil asked; shocked and stunned at the revelation of the impact the gas had on his friend.
"Not as powerful as you think V, certainly not as powerful as you. The difference is you can control your power because you're in control of your mind. Without the inhibitor, my brain is overwhelmed by how active my mind is and I can't focus. So when I took it off, my power went nuts. That's also why I'm looking so tired. Even with the power inhibitor I can't stop all the flooding thoughts and ideas that bounce around inside my head, and because of that I can't sleep. It's not a big deal though; I expect my body will eventually adjust."
"So, can you even do the telekinesis with that necklace thing on?"
"Yeah, but only small objects now, and it can only be solid matter. I can't redirect energy or stuff like that, at least not yet. But I'm not all that crazy to try it out either. Every time I use it my head feels like it's going to split along the seem."
"Well hopefully we won't need to use it again Rich, but it's good to know it's there just in case." Virgil said, wincing after realizing the pain in his side hadn't decreased despite his preoccupation with Ritchie's story. "Dude, we gotta do something to patch ourselves up. We're both in pretty bad shape, not to mention my pops is going to have my hide if I come in looking like this."
Ritchie frowned slightly as he stared at his friend, his mind already working a solution to their current dilemma. Sighing in resignation as if coming to a hard and difficult solution he finally voiced his worrisome response. "Shenice."
"Huh?" The dark skinned young man asked, his eyes staring questionably at his partner as one eyebrow arched as if not understanding he heard him correctly. "What about her?"
"Not her, her parents." Ritchie said as if wondering if this was the right course. Shebang was talented, that neither of them could deny. But it was her gung-ho, over eager personality that caused the duo to put some space between them and her. And Ritchie knew as well as Virgil, that if they involved her parents, they'd involve her. "Dude, her folks are doctors. They could fix us up, and seeing as how their darling little sweetheart is a super hero as well, they're not about to blab. We can trust them to keep all this secret."
"Hold on bro, her folks are scientists. You sure they're going to know how to fix up some scrapes and bruises?"
"Oh, you mean like broken ribs?" Ritchie answered back, cringing himself as he watched Virgil struggle to remain standing and wishing he had the energy to move so he could share the couch. "Besides, their not ordinary scientists, they're genetic engineers, they have to know a Hell of a lot about medicine and biology, at least more than we do. I could probably patch you, if I had a medical book in front of me, but this is the fastest way we can get out of this situation. You don't want to that's fine, but if we go to a normal doctor they'll ask a bunch of questions, and how do you think we could explain this? Dude, you've got broken ribs and I'm lucky if I just have a concussion."
Virgil closed his eyes, wishing the pain would subside long enough for him to come up with an alternative, but nothing presented itself. Coughing heavily as he attempted to sigh, he nodded his head, wishing there was some other way. "Alright, call them in."
# # #
Troy Carlson paced the length of the small, barely habitable living quarters he had called home for the past three months. The South Welmington Federal Penitentiary was anything but habitable; in fact he hated everything about this place. The guards, the walls, the inmates, the food...Hell, he even hated the damn T.V. as it reminded him of freedom.
It wasn't his fault he was here. He blamed it on his former running buddy; former gangbanger turned pro football player, Dule Jones. He tried to squeeze a bit of money the former ganger turned righteous athlete had owed him, but he turned on him, along with a countless number of arena football stars that found the need to gang pile him, not to mention the two flying freaks, Static and Gear.
Yeah, he hated them too. He could use his powers to escape, but what was the point? Everyone from the state police to the F.B.I. would be hunting him down. So he was stuck in this Godforsaken hellhole of a prison, waiting until some idiot bureaucrat realized he only did what he did because he wanted to collect what was his. Dule betrayed him, and that kind of betrayal wasn't excusable by the street code they both lived by before he got famous.
Troy was so wrapped up in his own hate that he was unaware of the growing shadow that inked his way across the floor from beneath his cot. Not until he sensed the presence of another person in his cell did he turn around to face the inky-black shadow of the figure before him.
"Who the Hell are you?" Troy said, taking a few angry steps backwards before exposing nearly one dozen metallic tentacles from his back, preparing to strike out at the intruder should the need arise. Life in prison had taught him to be cautious and never expose his back.
"Easy chief. The name's Ebon." The shadow master said, staring at the villain before him, a smile donning the shadowing image of his face.
"Yeah, well I don't care who the hell you are. I'll give you three seconds to get out before I throw you out!"
"I doubt that junior." Ebon mocked as he slid closer the man before him. "But I'm not here to fight."
Slowly, yet cautiously, Troy retracted the powerful tendrils within his body and stared suspiciously at the intruder. "Then what you want?"
"That depends. If you're named Chainlink, then I have some business I'd like to discuss."
-To be continued
# # #
A/N: I wasn't sure what Teresa and Troy's last names were, they were never given in the cartoons so I made some up. Hope you all like it, and I'm sure you can tell, everything's about to hit the fan...heh heh heh.