Thanks for the supportive and fun reviews, everyone (JadeDragoness, Saturn's Hikari, Nikana, Kate Maxwell, Webkitsune, MoonAssassin13, EyesLikeSilk, Pathetic Krypton, Pita, WildfireFriendhip0, KaliAnn, dea puella, and valkyrie-alex).

Special props go out to JadeDragoness and EyesLikeSilk – I'll tell you why in a chapter or two. Thanks also to Saturn's Hikari for reminding me that, duh! Virgil's dad would be able to recognize the signs of abuse. I'll work something out about that in a chapter or two.

This chapter has a tiny bit of slashy feeling, but a lot of it deals with abuse. Take heed.

Does anybody else get ticked off at having to do stupid stuff like sleep and go to work when all you want to do is write?

Disclaimer – Most of my stuff isn't paid off yet, so in fact I don't own anything. Especially not nifty things like Static and the gang.

Virgil fairly bounced back to the classroom. He was looking forward to seeing Batman again, and he knew Richie would be thrilled that Batman had specifically asked for him. His eyes would light up and his cheeks would flush with excitement. Virgil couldn't wait to tell him.

Virgil would have to wait to tell him. When he entered the room, he immediately sought out Richie's form, but his friend was nowhere to be found. As a matter of fact, none of the other detentionees were to be found.

"Mrs. Noring," asked Virgil, "where'd everybody go?"

The teacher looked up from her grading and told Virgil what had happened a few minutes before.

"Everyone was a little unnerved, so I dismissed the students for the day. You're excused as well."

Virgil grabbed his backpack and sprinted from the building. If he hurried, he could catch up with Richie before he got home. Damn! He was supposed to meet Batman right now. Well, Batman would have to wait. Richie came first.

Virgil reached Richie's street in time to see his friend enter his house. He was debating on whether or not to go up and ring the doorbell when he saw someone lurking at the other end of the block. When he recognized the spy, Virgil ducked into the nearest alleyway, donned his Static uniform, and took to the air.

'I thought Hotstreak and Ebon were fish food. How did they get untangled? And why is Hotstreak watching Richie's house?' He was surprised at how unsurprised he was to see Hotstreak again. Static and Gear had figured that Ebon and Hotstreak would find some way to survive. They were just too mean to die.

The fiery Bang Baby was so focused on the Foley house that he didn't notice his nemesis approaching.

"Hey, Hothead! What are you doing here? Did the fish throw you back?" Static's greeting was accompanied by an energy bolt that forced the older teen to back off several feet.

"Well, if it isn't my old friend Static Snot. Here. I've got a late Christmas present for you."

Hotstreak sent a sheet of flame towards Static, who zoomed backwards, away from Richie's street. Hotstreak followed and the two exchanged bolts and fireballs for several blocks. Static didn't want this nut anywhere near his Richie at the best of times, and this was not the best of times. Richie shouldn't have to choose between obeying his parents and joining in the fight as Gear. Richie was in enough trouble already with the detention, and ducking out in the middle of one of Mr. Foley's tirades would not win him any Brownie points.

'I need to end this quick,' thought Virgil. 'Batman is probably wondering what's taking so long.'

"I ain't got time to play today, Francis. Surrender now and nobody has to get hurt!"

"Oh, you're gonna do more than hurt, Static. You're gonna scream and then you're gonna die. Right after I roast brain-boy in front of you. Where is your little boyfriend, anyway?"

Static froze. Nobody was allowed to threaten Gear. Nobody. He glared down at Hotstreak and gathered his power for a devastating blast. Hotstreak had never faced him alone after the second Big Bang. He didn't know that Static's powers had nearly doubled from the effects of the second dose of mutagenic gas. He was about to get a shocking surprise.

Hotstreak smirked. So, water wasn't Static's only weakness. Gear was smart and had a lot of gadgets that allowed him to face other Bang Babies one on one, but without his toys, he was just a regular kid. A vulnerable kid. Oh, yeah. Once he and Ebon took the Foley geek to Brainiac, they'd come back and do some Gear-hunting.

Hotstreak aimed a wall of fire at an approaching bus, confident that Static would play hero to a bunch of little old ladies rather than stay and brawl. He was right. As Static turned his attention to rescuing Dakota's citizens, Hotstreak ducked into an alley and was quickly lost to the shadows.

Virgil was beyond pissed. He'd had to save those people on the bus, sure, but Hotstreak got away! He'd probably go back to Richie's house, too. Virgil would have to brave the wrath of Mr. Foley so he could warn Richie.

He made his way to the front door and rang the doorbell. While he waited for someone to answer, Virgil kept his eyes peeled for a familiar red head. If Hotstreak were in the area, he was hiding a lot better than last time. He turned around when the door opened. It was Mrs. Foley.

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. "Good evening, Mrs. Foley. Is Richie in? I need to talk to him for a minute."

"I'm sorry, Virgil," Mrs. Foley replied, "but Richie is confined to his room until his father and I decide on his punishment for being late to school. You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"But this will only take a min…ute." Virgil sighed as the door was shut firmly in his face. 'I seem to get that a lot around here,' he thought sullenly. 'Wait a minute. She said Richie's in his room. Not a prob!' Virgil pretended to leave in case Mr. and Mrs. Foley were watching. When he was out of sight of the front windows, he ran around to the back of the house and stood beneath Richie's window.

"Richie! Richie!" Virgil carefully checked the area. He decided against using his powers. No telling where the bad guys were. Instead, he secured his backpack and began climbing the gutter pipe. He knew Richie had done the same thing dozens of times when he sneaked out to join Static on patrol.

Virgil smiled. It was like he was a prince climbing the tower to rescue his fairytale princess. He imagined Richie dressed up in a fancy gown and wearing one of those weird pointy hats the girls did in the olden times. He started to laugh out loud and nearly fell, but he regained his foothold. 'I think I'll keep that particular picture to myself. If I told Rich, he'd deck me.'

Virgil's smile fell. He sort of wished it were true. He would love to rescue Richie from his father. 'I bet Dad would let him stay with us.' Then Virgil remembered Richie's Mom. 'As great as it would be to have Richie with me, it would get a little crowded with Mrs. Foley there. Not to mention embarrassing. What if she walked in on them when they were kissing, or, doing…stuff?'

A frown now crossed Virgil's face as he continued to climb. He had only just discovered that his feelings for Richie went deeper than friendship. Did Richie feel the same? What if he didn't? Could Virgil take the chance that the most important person in his life would suddenly look at him with disgust or, even worse, fear? What should he do?

Still conflicted, Virgil finally reached the second story window. With a little juice that couldn't be seen from below, he eased open the window and climbed into Richie's bedroom. The owner of the room was curled up on the bed and was wearing a too-large terrycloth robe. Virgil approached him quietly, wishing he didn't have to disturb the lovely picture the sleeping boy made.

Damp blond hair clung to Richie's forehead and lay over equally blond lashes. Virgil tenderly brushed aside Richie's bangs and stroked Richie's flushed cheek. The heat coming from Richie concerned Virgil.

"Rich? Wake up for me, OK?" Virgil whispered to the blond as he grasped Richie by the shoulder and gently shook him.

Richie's eyes flew open, and he scrabbled away from the hand touching him. Virgil backed off and held his hands up to show that he would not harm the frightened young man. Richie's reaction had startled Virgil, and his concern for his friend increased.

"Richie, it's me. It's OK, you're safe." By watching Richie's eyes, Virgil could tell when reason returned.

"Virgil? Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I heard what happened in detention. I just wanted to see if you were all right." Virgil felt guilty about not telling the whole truth, but Richie didn't need any more pressure right now. He would protect Richie and take care of Hotstreak himself.

Riche looked at him with wide eyes and said, "And my parents let you in? Let you come up to my room? Do I need to check for pods under their bed, now?"

Virgil grinned and said, "Nah. I got shut out downstairs, so I took the high road." He pointed to the open window behind him. "So, what happened when you got home? Is the yelling over or did they just go straight for the grounding?"

Richie didn't reply for a moment. He pulled the robe tighter to his body and said, "They were waiting for me. I have to stay here until they decide what they're going to do to me."

Virgil felt the hair prickle on the back of his neck. He didn't like the sound of that. He also didn't like to see his brave, smart, smart-aleck friend look so afraid. He caught sight of those awful bruises on Richie's arm again. A terrible thought crossed Virgil's mind.

"Richie, where did you get those?"

Richie looked questioningly at Virgil, then noticed where his friend was looking. His forearm. The marks, obviously the marks that fingers would leave when digging into tender skin, were dark red and somewhat swollen. Richie looked at them. Ugly, ugly, ugly. He hated that anyone had to see what he had done, especially Virgil. Virgil shouldn't have to look at his ugliness. 'He must be so disgusted with me.'

"Rich? Look at me." Virgil's voice was soft and gentle. Richie looked up at him. He didn't look disgusted. He looked, sad? Scared?

Virgil moved to sit next to Richie on the bed. "Richie, let me see."

Richie understood what Virgil was asking. Virgil didn't want to see just the bruises on his arm. He wanted to see if there were others. 'Virgil isn't like Mr. Foster in fifth grade. If you tell him something, he'll believe you. He's a hero, for God's sake. Can you stand for Virgil to know your secret? Can you live this way for another two years? Hell, will you live for another two years? Time to choose, Richie.'

Richie chose Virgil.

Richie moved into the middle of the bed and lay down. Virgil stroked his friend's cheek before grasping the end of the belt-tie. He slowly pulled until the knot was released. Virgil held his breath and peeled the robe back from Richie's body.

Virgil saw red. And purple. And green. And brown. All the colors of the rainbow in glorious relief against Richie's beautiful skin. The bruises were mainly on his ribcage where it looked like someone had kicked him, maybe even stepped on him. Some of the bruises may have come from Richie's exploits as Gear, but not all. Richie's skin, where it wasn't bruised, was flushed lobster-red. That wasn't hero-related, and the scar definitely wasn't. Virgil traced the jagged line with a finger. It was almost as long as his hand. It was still healing, and his touch elicited a hiss of pain from the injured teen.

"Oh, Richie," he whispered. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know." First one tear and then another escaped Virgil's eyes. He was leaning over to gather Richie into his arms when the door to the bedroom opened.

Mr. Foley did not look pleased.

"You! Get out of here! Get out of here right now!" Mr. Foley hissed at Virgil and pushed him towards the window. He looked at the blond boy still trembling on the bed. "Cover yourself! I don't want your mother to see what you've been up to."

Richie sat up and hurriedly retied the robe.

Virgil was angry and let the adult hear it in his voice. "Mr. Foley, Richie's hurt. He needs to see a doctor."

"He's fine," Mr. Foley replied. "But he won't be if you don't leave right now."

Virgil was shocked that the man would openly threaten his own child in front of said child and a witness.Virgil didn't move.

"Get out, Virgil, or I'll call the police and have you arrested for trespassing."

"Great! Call the cops! I'll bet they'd love to hear the story behind Richie's scar."

Virgil and Mr. Foley were standing toe-to-toe screaming at one another. Richie just watched with a familiar feeling of helplessness. It was like a slow-motion train wreck. You knew what was going to happen, but you couldn't do anything to stop it. A noise at the door drew his attention. Oh, no! Mom!

Richie stood, grabbed Virgil's arm, and fairly pushed him towards the door. "Go on, V. It'll be OK. I'll talk to you later."

"Richie…"

"Later, V. Please."

It was the 'please' combined with the look in Richie's eyes that convinced Virgil to back off. He moved down the stairs, watching as Mrs. Foley shut Richie's door. Mr. Foley followed Virgil and whispered to him as he left, "Anything you saw, anything you know or think you know – keep it to yourself."

"And if I don't? You gonna hit me, too?"

Mr. Foley looked sad as he quietly replied, "No, Virgil. I won't hit you. Richie's the one who will pay the price."

Virgil watched the door close in his face for the second time that evening. He was afraid for Richie. He didn't know what would happen if he contacted the police. Sometimes abused kids would be removed from the home, but not always. He hated to think that he would be the one responsible for causing Richie even more pain if the cops allowed his parents to retain custody. He would tell Pops, though, that's for sure. Pops would know what to do. That decided, he set off for his meeting with Batman.

Virgil, distracted by thoughts of Richie and his dilemma, didn't see the flame-haired figure making its way to the back of the Foley household.