Disclaimer - No money being made either from this fic or from my job as I am off work today. Hurray! I can write another chapter!
Ebon had no luck trying to find his old gang. Word on the street was that those who got a second whiff of Big Bang gas had either been busted or had fled Dakota - it was too chancy for them with Static and Gear patrolling virtually unchallenged. He wasn't about to recruit some of the 'normals' that lived in his part of town. Normal was for losers. He also didn't want to work with any of the new Bang Babies created in the second explosion. He didn't know them, didn't trust them.
His only other option for backup was to ask the other Bang Baby gang in the area for help. Snakepit was too used to being the boss, though. He would never take orders from a rival. Besides, Ebon didn't want to share; bad enough he had Hotstreak riding his coattails. In the meantime, he had been running all over town stealing computer parts, generators, power tools, cables, anything and everything that Brainiac could possibly used to get himself in shape to fight the Justice League.
It put him behind schedule. He only hoped that Hotstreak wouldn't get jumpy and try to take the kid before he got there. Ebon could see it now. Red would be running down the street dragging a screaming, kicking kid, and Static and Gear would be hot on his tail. Hotstreak had better be waiting if he knew what was good for him. Everything was all planned out. They would phase in, grab Foley, and phase right back out again. No muss, no fuss, no Static.
Ebon had to admit he was pretty curious what the machine wanted with the blond teenager. Hotstreak knew Foley from high school, and he said the kid was nothing special. Yes, it would sure be nice to know what Brainiac wanted the kid for. If he could figure it out, maybe he could use the kid himself. Then he wouldn't need Brainiac to take out the superheroes after all.
Ebon dropped the most recent load of equipment on the cavern floor. He could see Brainiac working sluggishly under a set of generator-powered lights.
"That's the last batch. The next gift you get from me is Richie Foley. Once he's here, how long to build your super weapon to wipe out the Justice League?"
"S-s-s-seventeen hours and f-f-fifty-four min-n-nutes."
Ebon thought it was hysterical that the super-brain was reduced to stuttering. He knew it had something with sound cards and loose connections, but it was still funny.
"You better deliver, Tin Man," warned Ebon. "I got better things to do than playing gopher."
"Y-you will receive all that I have prom-misssed."
"Good." Ebon poked through the jumble of assorted electronics. Trying to sound casual, he asked, "What do you need Foley for, anyway? My man Hotstreak says he's just a regular high school kid. Is his old man connected to the League or something? What's the deal?"
Brainiac considered the questions and their source. He had met beings like Ebon before - manipulative, self-serving, greedy. The questions were meant as more than a means to satisfy curiosity. Ebon wanted information on Richie, information that he could turn to his advantage. That would be dangerous knowledge - dangerous to Richie's safety, and it would make Brainiac vulnerable. It would be best if the human believed that Richie had some value other than Brainiac's affection.
"His presence with me is n-nnecessary for the success of the attack-ack on the Watch-t-tower."
Which was true. Brainiac would not feel comfortable leaving Richie vulnerable on Earth when he took out the Justice League. Stray defenders or vengeful humans might try to harm what belonged to him. That was unacceptable.
Ebon merely glared at the lack of information, then phased away.
Brainiac returned to his work. He had nearly completed a control disk. It would be ready for Richie when he arrived. When his boy was firmly under his control once again, Richie would finish repairing his systems and would begin work on the weapon that would eliminate the threat of the Justice League. Forever.
It was second nature for the Batman to move as one with the darkness. Although there were few shadows to work with in this brightly lit corridor, he still managed to make his way, undiscovered, to the lounge that had been converted into an interrogation room for Mr. Foley. He pushed open the door.
To the occupants, the effect was dramatic. A black figure was backlit by lights as bright as the sun. His sheer size and the outline of his cowl identified him as the guardian of Gotham. The Dark Knight. Officer Duran relaxed her guard and stepped to the side, allowing Batman to enter. The detective in charge of the case rose to greet the crime fighter.
"Batman, it's an honor to meet you. I'm Jayanti Aryah, the detective in charge of this investigation." Batman nodded politely at the petite detective, but his attention was all for the man sitting alone behind the conference table.
"I don't wish to be rude, but what are you doing here?"
Narrowing his eyes at the prisoner, Batman replied, "I'm a friend of the family." The officers noted the surprised look in Mr. Foley's eyes.
"It's not exactly procedure, but if it's all right with Mr. Foley, you are welcome to stay. He has waived his right to an attorney and was about to give a statement. Isn't that correct, Mr. Foley?"
Mr. Foley nodded and ran his hand over his hair, a gesture familiar to Batman; Richie had picked it up from his father.
"Will you tell us, Mr. Foley, why you felt it necessary to beat your son half to death?"
"No."
"No, you won't tell us?"
"No, I didn't do it," said Mr. Foley. "It was Liddy, my wife." Disbelief was the most obvious expression on the faces of the cops, while Batman's countenance did not change.
"Mr. Foley, we lifted an impression from Richie's back. Do you expect us to believe that Mrs. Foley wears size twelve work boots?"
"OK, yes, I did kick him. I had to. You just don't understand. I had to. I love Richie. It was for his own good." Mr. Foley suddenly found himself hanging inches above the floor struggling to breathe as powerful fingers cut off his oxygen supply. Batman's movement had been so swift none of the officers present could have stopped him, even if they had been so inclined.
"Explain." Batman growled, then relaxed his grip enough for Mr. Foley to suck in a lungful of air.
"I had to! She hates Richie. If I don't punish him, she will. And if I do it, at least I know he'll live to see the next day!"
Detective Aryah spoke quietly with the uniformed officer, who nodded once then left to advise the detective in the other lounge/interrogation room of this revelation.
"Batman, if you would?" At the detective's implied request, the Dark Knight released his prisoner, but not before his hand squeezed Foley's throat once more - a silent threat.
"Tell us about your wife, Mr. Foley."
"Ever since Richie was born, Liddy's been slipping away a little more each year. She's crazy. She thinks that Richie ruined her life, held her back. She's even told him that if she had had an abortion like she wanted to that she would be happy and successful now.
"She likes to take her frustration with her life out on him. Most of the time she's satisfied if she just sees him hurting. That's why I hit Richie. I can control myself. She can't. Do you have any idea what she would have done to him tonight if I hadn't stepped in? You didn't see her, the look in her eyes. She was beating him with the trophy Richie won at last year's science fair. She would have killed him."
The room was silent except for the scratching of Detective Aryah's pencil as she made notations in the file.
"Dr. Maxwell has provided evidence that this abuse has been going on for some time. Mr. Foley, why didn't you try to help your son?"
"He's not my son."
The surgery had gone well, and Richie had already been transferred to a private room. The staff had received word from Wayne Enterprises that the company would pay all of Richie's medical expenses. He was to be made as comfortable as possible while he was a patient.
Virgil peeked into the dark, quiet room. He didn't want to disturb Richie's sleep, but he couldn't wait outside any more. He had to see his friend.
It was nighttime now. A slight break in the curtains allowed in the light of the first full moon of the year and cast Richie in an ethereal glow. The equipment - IV, cannula, monitors - did not detract from the beauty of the picture. Neither did the bruises make him seem any less angelic.
Virgil made his way to Richie's bedside and watched as the blond breathed in and out, his chest rising and falling. The hospital gown hid the worst of the bruises and bandaging, but Virgil knew they were there. He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed Richie's bangs from his face. The unruly strands made their way back to the injured boy's forehead, only to be swept aside again. It soothed Virgil and seemed to bring comfort to Richie as the pain lines in his face were eased away.
"I can't believe I didn't notice what was going on," Virgil whispered. "Not just with your folks and Brainiac, but with us. You've been drowning for weeks, but you've been struggling for longer. And I've been too busy acting like an idiot over Daisy to see the pain you were in.
"I've had a lot of time to think. I understand now why I've been chasing Daisy. I wasn't really chasing her; I was running away from you. I guess something inside me knew how I really felt about you, but I got scared."
Virgil paused his soliloquy as Richie shifted slightly. When the blond returned to his restful state, Virgil continued.
"I think I was also afraid of the timing. We're sixteen, Rich. When I was growing up I thought that I would at least get into college before finding that 'special' person, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Like Mom and Pops. But you know what? I already know who that person is. I've known since the day we met in seventh grade."
Virgil moved from his place beside Richie and stood by the window. He pushed aside the curtain and leaned his head against the cool glass. "What if I told you how I felt and you left me? I can live without being your lover, but I'd die if I couldn't be your friend."
"Baby."
Virgil whipped around at the scratchy whisper. Blue eyes glittered from a pale, bruised face. Virgil approached Richie's bedside once again.
"Rich?"
"Baby. In my room. You called me baby."
"Yes," said Virgil.
"Did you mean it?" Richie's voice was still weak, but it was growing stronger.
"Mean what?" What was Richie asking?
"Am I your baby?"
God, they were both being so careful, so tentative.
"Do you want to be?" Virgil stared down at the young man he loved. This was it. What would Richie say?
Leev casts her eyes down and rubs the toe of her bunny slippers into the carpet. I've been sick. Otherwise I would have updated ages ago. Honest! Sorry it took so long, but respiratory infections suck.
Thank you all for the positive reviews about why Brainiac wants Richie. I was a little concerned about the plot. It made sense to me, but that rarely means it makes sense to others.
I tried to be careful in the early chapters so that Mrs. Foley being the primary abuser would be a surprise. Yes, she was the one who dragged Richie out of bed and threw him into the closet. She was the one who starved him and broke his bones as a child. That's why Mr. Foley was sad when he ordered Virigl to keep quiet. He knew that Mrs. Foley would just hurt Richie worse.
Mo - As you can see, Ebon is still committed to the kidnapping - sort of. Hotstreak? We shall see. MUHUWAAHAAAAAAHAAA!
Webkitsune - More fluff in the next chapter - I mean, c'mon, we all know what Richie's gonna say, right?
Valkyrie-alex - You guessed it! I really didn't like how wimpy she was in "Sons of the Fathers," so this is her punishment.
Aryah - Cameo, anyone?
Nikana - I agree! I was so into two Static episodes a day and now I'm down to only one. Sob! Unfair to Stati-holics! Hey, I like that. My name is leev and I am a Stati-holic.
EyesLikeSilk - You've got quite a cough there. Here's a chappie-lozenge. BTW, where's Chapter 10 of B.A.? Hint-hint!
I hope you enjoy this part. Drop me a review? Thanks!