The Beauty of Death
Part Five - All Just a Dream?
Arturo broke free of the coils. The metallic restraints blew from his body and rained with a tinkling ringing around him, a guttural rumble emanating from deep within his throat. Some human intelligence came, however short lived, and allowed Arturo to speak. "You've threaten the Messenger time and time again, even after I warned you. Now you will both die!" He faked a dive for the boys but then unexpectedly changed direction. He took up a half destroyed dumpster (it being that way from the earlier fight, before Gear showed up) in his claws. Then whipped it at Static, fastening him to the wall.
Static grunted when he made contact. He grit his teeth in effort as he tried to pry the dumpster off with his powers. It took its time in coming loose but he managed to succeed in the end. He pushed it away and let it drop with a clunk-thump sound. With an upward glance, he saw that Arturo was once more upon Gear. The boy's mechanical backpack was attempting to give aid, but sparks discharged from its gored side. Apparently wolf-boy had chomped out a section of it.
"Some help would be greatly appreciated right about now!" Gear called uneasily as he tried to fend Arturo off. He couldn't reach any of his zap caps, which he hoped to throw into the wolf's face.
Static moved forwards quickly. Arturo's ear flicked back. He heard him coming. He turned his head slightly so that he could see him from the corner of his eye. One of his tails whipped out, connecting with the black boy's midsection and sending him sprawling, temporarily knocking him into a breathless daze, where everything was muffled. He couldn't see anything really. And wasn't able to get himself to move as he lay crumpled, the back of his head resting against a wall with the remainder of him on the ground.
Arturo turned his attention back to the boy he had pinned under his paws. At that moment, time seemed to have slowed considerably for Gear even though what happened next flashed by in just a few seconds. The metamorphic boy was drawing back his lips to reveal his glinting teeth, saliva dripping with expectation. Staring up at that mouth, Gear could count every single tooth. He could feel the hot but stale breath of death on the animal's exhalation. He knew what was coming. He knew and couldn't stop it. Gear felt a sudden fearful sickness clutching his stomach. His pupils contracting. Breath catching at the bottom of his lungs. Throat constricting. Mouth drying. Unable to swallow. Panic was setting in. Body freezing in terror. Wolf teeth closing in. Chomping down. Pulling sharply sideways and up with rancorous snarls. Muzzle moistening with blood. Searing pain enraptured Gear's entire being as the shredding teeth tore at his flesh. He let out a shriek.
The frantic cry broke through the haze that was Static's mind and despite his spinning head he rose to investigate. His world swam about him. He held his head and shook it a little, supporting himself with a shoulder against the wall. Looking up, he waited for his eyes to focus. Once they did, he instantly wished they hadn't. "Gear…" he choked. "No! Richie!"
Dizziness forgotten, he shoved away from the wall and ran at Arturo, blasting him from his limp friend's body. "Richie, come on, say something!" He dropped to his knees in front of him, hands hovering but fearful to touch.
Gear turned his head in small jerky increments to look directly at Static. Pain etched his face, eyebrows scrunched upwards. But past the pain his eyes spoke volumes, trying to say… something unreadable, comforting, perhaps. He wanted to speak, to say anything in the inevitability of his situation, for he felt his life slipping, draining away. He didn't have much longer before it would be too late. But his mouth wouldn't work, his lips moving mutely. The only sound he managed to make was an unintelligible garble spoken solely by those who were badly wounded, or about to die. He closed his eyes then, unable to hold on, head lolling to the side, a soft but resisting sigh signaling his refusal to leave his friend before he could talk to him one last time. But the pain was just too much and he fell under a sea of darkness. Letting go completely of his grip on life, his body became forever still. His body sunk upon the ground as all dead things do, as if in doing so they would sink into the very earth from which they were created.
Static watched in horror, vacillating disbelief laying claim to his face. His shoulders dropped, flaccid. He'd just lost two of the precious few who were important to him; lost them both with only a night to lessen the strength of his heartache's blow. He looked up at Arturo who was standing by, a spectator of his grief. The changed boy was being decent, or maybe cruel, enough to let Static watch his friend die without attacking him while he was sidetracked.
Static got to his feet then, sweeping up his devastated shell of emotions like fragile eggshell. He was too strained, too shattered to feel anything for certain. Whether he was angry, heart rendered, overwhelmed or… anything, he couldn't define what he felt. Plagued without any real, solid thing to feel, he glared at Arturo. "You killed my father and then you killed my best friend. You don't even deserve to be locked up!"
Curling down from around an outstretched arm, a purple bolt twisted about his hand, growing strongest at his palm. He flung the built up energy at Arturo in a forced steady stream but it wasn't enough to lift the animal off the ground. He made a small growl and immediately added his other hand to the mix, doubling the power flowing from him, achieving his goal. He turned then, violently throwing his airborne and helpless opponent into the wall. Then turned again, this time sending Arturo crashing into the opposite wall. Once more, then again, back and forth until he could no longer maintain control over the strain that the weight put on him. His emotions no longer giving him the edge he needed to continue. He released his hold and shrunk back a step in weariness, sweat sticky on his face, breaths quick and short. But his eyes remained leveled on Arturo, who had landed in a bloody thud, red droplets splattering the ground. Once the body stilled from the fall, bright liquid drizzled from his mouth and nose.
Seeing the blood, Static stopped. That wasn't Gear's blood. His was only on the wolf's muzzle. It wouldn't be flowing out like that. His breath caught even though his heart still pumped fast from the effort he'd put forth just moments before. He could feel his chest burning, wanting to burst, but he paid it little heed as realization of what he'd just done oozed its way into his consciousness. For the millionth time, comprehending the events in his life became hard, even unbearable to accept. The thought broke through even though his mind didn't want it to. He had hurt Arturo worse than he'd ever hurt someone in a fight. He might have even killed him!
Staring at his gloves, hands shaking. He almost wanted to take them off, no, tear them off. Throw them. Stomp on them. Vaporize them. Anything that would give his troubled soul some comfort in knowing that he had destroyed at least a part of what was responsible for what he'd just done. Instead, he dropped his hands and looked back at Arturo.
Maybe he wasn't hurt too badly. Maybe he could get the police's attention and they'd take Arturo to the hospital and make sure he was alright. His desperation was making him throw out wild ideas, unviable possibilities. Static walked over to the downed bangbaby and knelt, reaching out attentively with a hand to see what kind of injuries he'd sustained. His hand was drifting over the boy's muzzle when it happened.
Golden eyes snapped open. Muscles rippled. The head heaved up. Lightening quick jaws clamped down on his outstretched hand, surprising him. Arturo snarled as he ground his teeth, cracking delicate bones and causing Static to yell in pain. He gave Arturo a small shock forcing him to release him. He pulled his broken hand away and grimaced at it as it hung uselessly.
Arturo found a hidden reserve of strength and climbed to his feet, towering over the knelt hero, but not without great effort. His stance teetered, showing that he could easily be pushed over with one shove. That he was standing at all illustrated his determination. He would not stop until he destroyed this boy who had beaten him.
Static was also weary and wasn't sure if he could even spend anymore energy in this battle without risking collapse. He was worn and torn from the constant war his emotions had carried him through the past two days. Though the large amounts of energy he'd already spent fighting Arturo played a big part as well. "I don't want to fight you anymore. You can barely stand. Give it a rest."
Arturo snarled, as if to say he would hear none of that. His mind was already set. He wasn't going to back down now. Static shook his head, "No, no more." He took a backwards step to signal he wasn't going to fight. With his face still mostly towards Arturo, he risked a glance in Gear's direction. A wash of regret came over him but he couldn't focus on it, not now.
He looked back at the relentless teenager, who was somehow managing to walk towards him. What drove him? What crazy thought kept him going? None of it made any sense. He should have been dead after the beating Static had given him. Yet, like some stubborn insistence he drove on, intent on taking him out. He just wouldn't stay down.
Static was going to try one more thing. If he failed, then he was a goner. As things stood, he wasn't even sure if he had enough energy to fly. He needed to recharge badly. Though even with the extra power, he'd probably still be exhausted, he realized. Rest was the best remedy but he couldn't get that here.
"Luck, don't fail me now," he wished quietly to himself. Gathering what little power he had, he concentrated it on the dumpster and grunted from the effort. The dumpster rose shakily, threatening to buckle free of his hold. It shuttered downwards several times, making him think it was playing tug-of-war with him, but he kept at it. He wasn't able to lift it high enough and he noticed that Arturo was practically on top of him by now. He had no choice but to give up on the dumpster and lash out instead with pure energy. The wolf cringed, howling in pain. The sound was bloodcurdling. It took everything in him to keep zapping Arturo without shuddering, which would have disrupted the transfer of electromagnetic power from his body to Arturo's.
Suddenly, Arturo lowered his head from his howl, defiantly glaring at him with those unnatural eyes of his. There was something smug, something deadly in that gaze that made Static's heart jump. If a wolf could smirk, Arturo was certainly doing a very good job of it.
Against all laws of nature, the beast started for him. No mark of pain ravaged his form. He just kept coming forwards. An indestructible demon loosed upon the world. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't right! Static's instincts screamed. Even when he tried to magnetize Arturo to the ground, he kept coming. Impossible! How could he still be moving?
Arturo's smirk grew. Each step he took seemed to grow with confident vigor. All signs of weariness drained away from him like the blood that was streaming from his mouth and nose. Static stopped the flow of energy coming from his hands and shrunk back. He was wobbly on his feet, unable to keep a steady footing, his strength having quickly ebbed away from overuse of his powers. This wasn't making any sense! This couldn't be happening!
Static looked up helplessly at the overwhelming form of Arturo, unable to defend himself for the most part. Still unable to grip the fact that his powers were now useless against the metamorphic bangbaby he raised his hands one more time. A spark. Then a lacing bolt shot from his hands.
…No… Static don't… the soft but hollowed words echoed in his mind, surreal, drifting like smoke and fading away without any real substance.
He could feel his legs buckling under him. Head growing light. Eyesight blurring and making it hard to focus. He could still make out the large, threatening form looming over him. He kept throwing everything he had left at it. A desperate panic was settling in like a new friend who was intent on staying by his side. If he couldn't stop Arturo, wolf-boy would most definitely kill him! Then what would happen? He would fail! He would fail where he promised he wouldn't!
Static, stop… those weird words requested again, clearer this time. No, he couldn't stop. If he stopped, he would be resigning, allowing Arturo to win. He would not do that. His desperation tore into him like a blade, giving his wasted body another burst of sharp, heated strength. Like a searing metal warmed by a fire, his powers poured from him, hot and painful beyond description. A growing white heat. A white ache. It hurt to keep his eyes open or to raise his head. So he gave up on seeing and keeping his head up. His body was failing under him, he sensed, but kept giving of himself anyway.
Static! Stop! Something shook him physically. It startled him so much that his eyes snapped open again, staring at a fuzzy ground. Someone had actually taken him by the shoulders and shaken him. This fact shattered through his confused and terror stricken haze but he'd lost too much of himself to stay awake and configure it, to understand where the voice was coming from, and who shook him. He slipped under, no sensation of falling embracing him as one would expect.
- - - -
A second after he fainted, Static snapped awake. He would have jerked up too if he wasn't so tired when he came around. Darkness zoomed in on him instantly, illuminated only by several dull blue lights that blinked on and off at odd intervals. Then he realized that those lights were reflecting off of a glass window. Looking to the left he saw the same lights blinking, accompanied by a soft hum of machinery. He tried to look farther left but found his movement was restricted by something.
"Here, I'll get that off and then we'll get you out of here."
That voice! Static whipped his head around, instantly regretting doing it when it brought on a swirl of dizziness. He closed his eyes until it passed, then cautiously opened them again. "Richie?" His voice sounded foreign to him, hoarse as if from constant yelling. Something came off from around his neck with a metallic clank.
"Of course, who else?"
"But… you-" he was interrupted by a loud ringing sound.
"Dang it, they've found me." Richie cursed to himself, then directed his attention back to Static, "Come on, we don't have much time before they come pouring in here like Niagara Falls. Think you can get up?"
"Yeah," Static responded slowly, confused. What was going on? How did he get here? Where was Arturo, and why was Richie alive? He must have been too sluggish in getting to his feet because Richie suddenly pulled him up and directed him off of the flat surface he'd been lying on. Static practically fell forwards against Richie's chest, almost knocking the blond over. But his friend caught him and lifted him by the arms, steadying him.
"Lean on me." Richie directed. Static complied, embarrassed but still too much in a daze to not do as he was told.
He lost all sense of time from that point on. Not that he ever had it in the first place since the time he'd awakened. He was just too confused, just too tired. He hardly saw the darkened hallways or remembered the stairs they climbed down, much less the way from which they'd come. He couldn't even recall the time when he felt himself being passed to another able body. This person lifting him up off from the ground and holding him in its arms. He didn't even know when he became unconscious again.
When he woke up, he found himself in a small room. There was a window at the foot of the bed on which he laid, sunlight pouring in from outside, letting him know it was some time mid-afternoon. A chair rested against the wall opposing the wall against which the bed was set. Otherwise than that, the place was bare.
The sound of a door opening caught Static's attention and he turned in his bed to see who it was. The door was on the forth wall, being opposite of the window. In stepped, none other than Richie. He looked very happy to see him. "So you finally decided to join the land of the living, eh?" he quipped, not caring if he was using a clichéd statement.
"What happened?" Static asked.
"A lot, but basically it involves a solar storm causing a major power outage," he was numbering off the events with his fingers as he spoke, "the Big Bang, and then the gathering of the metahumans for a source of power."
Static gave him a blank look.
"Eh, right," Richie's smile failed, sighing as he scratched the side of his head, looking downwards as if he'd just said something foolish. "You probably don't remember any of it after being tied up in that virtual world for so long. How's about I start from the beginning?"
A/N Sorry for taking a while on getting the last two parts up… I started up school again after the Christmas break and then it took me forever to write this stuff. Especially that battle scene in part four, and part five as a whole. I am very particular when it comes to stuff like that. I end up going over it a hundred times before I think it's good enough. Call me a perfectionist.
Thanks StaticShock'sgirl for reviewing! grins You made a good guess about Virgil's dad. Wouldn't it have been a shocker if his father was just badly wounded? lol