Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed. I didn't think I would get response so fast. Richie's story continues…
Chapter Three: First Nightmare: Klux
Hi, Richie again. This is going to be a bit confusing. See, this is the first nightmare Brainiac sent me when he was trying to break me. It doesn't start out like a nightmare, doesn't even feel like a nightmare until the very end. And there are other perspectives in here besides mine. That's simple to explain: I 'heard' all these things when Brainiac sent me the nightmare, but I didn't realize I was hearing them until after his first experiment was over. Just keep telling yourself that none of this stuff really happened to me, convincing as it all sounds.
Part One: On the Space Station
"Here. Drink this." Wonder Woman held out the cup.
In the space station's infirmary, Virgil glanced up at her reluctantly. He squeezed Richie's hand. "No, thanks. I don't drink coffee."
"It's a healing tea my mother invented. It will help you stay calm."
"No drugs for me, thanks. I need to be clear-headed when he wakes up." Virgil turned back to Richie.
Wonder Woman set the cup aside and sat beside Virgil. "He will surely sleep for several hours. He has been through a terrible ordeal. You should get some rest. That way, you will be fresh when he wakes up."
"He might have nightmares. I need to be here."
"Is he prone to nightmares?"
"How should I know? I've never watched him sleep before. But he might, after this. I need to be here. I'm the only one he knows here."
"And how much help will you be to him if you can barely keep your eyes open? Virgil-"
"I don't need drugs. I'll just sleep here." He patted the chair he sat in. "I can sleep anywhere. It's a talent of mine."
"I… I can vouch for that."
"Richie!" Virgil leapt from his seat.
Wonder Woman caught him around the waist. "Don't crush him now."
Virgil glanced up at her, thought about what he'd been about to do- probably smother Richie- and nodded. She let him go. Virgil settled for grinning like a fool and squeezing the hell out of his friend's hand. Richie was still too pale, and without his glasses he looked vulnerable, but Virgil ignored that. "Man, I thought we were going to have to call you back from the dead or something."
"No such luck." Richie grinned. "But I would have loved to see you doing a Ghost Dance or something."
"The Ghost Dance isn't to raise the dead, Rich; it was made by the Indians to scare the white men. You need to quit falling asleep in history."
"I'm not the one who told the teacher Ganges Khan's real name was Bob."
Wonder Woman left the young men alone, calling over her shoulder as she left, "Make sure he gets some sleep, Virgil. And see that he eats, too."
"Should we tell him?" Hawkgirl asked.
Flash shook his head. "That's not our job. Or even our place."
"Besides, it's possible Richie was unconscious when it happened. He may remember nothing," Superman added.
"How likely is that?" Hawkgirl asked.
"Not very," admitted the Man of Steel.
"If Richie was our ward, or if he and Static were part of the Justice League, this would be much easier. We would have the obligation to help him through it," Batman said then, folding his arms. "But he isn't one of us." He sighed. "Still, who can he go to when and if he decides to talk about it? He's only fifteen, and therefore doesn't have our defenses against the cruelty of the world."
"Enough of this," said Green Lantern. "What are we going to do about Static and Richie? Do we tell them both, or do we just talk to Richie? And if we don't, we'd better have an ironclad reason for keeping silent. Because Batman's right, at least in this: Richie can't discuss this sort of thing with a conventional psychologist. And it's already easy to see that he doesn't have parents or other people that he talks to. Besides Virgil."
"Can't we just assume that Richie already knows?" put in Flash. "There's not much chance he was unconscious, right? If he already knows, it's his choice whether he wants to tell Static or not. And if he doesn't know, for whatever reason, it's probably better for him."
"Unless he's still sore. He'll wonder about that." Wonder Woman looked around at the rest of the Justice League. "Maybe this is my woman's intuition, but I don't think we can just trust to fate in this case. Richie is a hurting boy. Don't we have an obligation to help if we can?"
"We aren't his shrinks," Hawkgirl said, "but maybe you're right. We can't just let this slide. Brainiac will have won, if only in a little way. That's unacceptable."
The rest of the Justice League sat in silence for a minute. Then Flash asked, "So, who's going to talk to him?"
Richie rubbed at his arm. It didn't ache, but he didn't want to draw attention to what really hurt. Not in front of Virgil, anyway. 'I'll ask… well, somebody up here to find out if Brainiac left any burns inside me.' He shivered, then glanced up. Virgil was still talking a mile a mile, his back turned as he gazed out at the stars.
"I mean, if I lived up here, you'd never hear me complaining about the view. Sure, it's always the same, but it's gorgeous. Makes me feel like I could just reach out and hold the stars in the palm of my hand." He laughed. "Anything's possible for Static Shock, right?"
Richie snorted dutifully, all the while rubbing his arm and trying to focus on Virgil. His friend looked so strong standing there, silhouetted against the stars. 'I'm not with Brainiac anymore,' Richie reminded himself. 'I don't have to be so jumpy. Virg might even understand if I… No. I can't tell him. I can't explain why I'm messed up. Superheroes get hurt all the time, right? It was just my turn, that's all.' He blushed slightly. 'Besides, how could I really explain the rape unless I told about Brainiac impersonating Static?' Again, he shivered. 'No. I won't tell.'
"Batman even said that we could join the Justice League when we're older," Virgil went on. "What do you think? We wouldn't just be looking after Bang Babies, but after the whole world." He paused, glancing at Richie, who seemed to be staring at a spot just over his left shoulder. "We could even look in girl's showers if we wanted to. Or maybe spy on the Bang Babies swimming in their big bathtubs or… Richie!"
"Huh? What?"
"You weren't listening." Virgil crossed the room and sat beside Richie on the bench. "Are you okay, man?" He touched Richie's arm where he'd been rubbing it. "Do you still hurt?"
"No. No, I'm okay. Sorry. Must have gotten distracted looking at the stars or something." He offered Virgil an unconvincing smile and pushed his glasses up. "I'm cool, V. Don't worry about me."
"I do worry, Rich. You look like somebody's pointing out your future grave plot and saying 'It's all ready for you when you are'."
"Thanks for the cheery assessment. I'm fine. Really." He tried the smile again, and this time it looked a little more genuine.
The door to the observation deck opened and Batman strode in. He glanced at the teens, then went to stand by the window Virgil had just vacated.
Richie shifted uncomfortably. "I think I need to go lay down again, Virg. I'm feeling a little tired."
"Stay here," Batman rumbled without turning his back.
"If he needs sleep, he needs sleep," Virgil argued instantly, standing and watching Richie struggle to his feet. He reached out to lay a hand on Richie's shoulder, but Richie turned away as if he hadn't seen him. "Rich? I'll help you if-"
Batman turned and ordered, "Sit down, Mr. Foley. This concerns you, if no one else."
Richie's face had gone the color of curdled milk. "I have to…"
"Sit. Down." Batman advanced on the teens, his face set.
Virgil stepped between the Dark Knight and his friend. "Leave off. He doesn't feel well. It's been a hard couple of weeks and-"
"And that's why I'm here." Batman pushed Virgil aside and grasped Richie's arm above the elbow. Richie flinched.
"You're hurting him!" Virgil tried to shoulder his way between the two. "His arm hurts already. Don't make it worse."
He did notice I've been rubbing my arm.
Batman sat down, dragging Richie with him. Virgil glared at him for a moment, then seeing that he was being ignored, sat on Richie's other side and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. Richie's muscles under his hand were like coiled springs.
"Do you want to discuss this alone, or can Static be here?"
Richie winced. "I don't want to talk. You can't change it, so what's the point?"
"The point is healing."
"I'll just… somebody will… it doesn't hurt that much." Richie's hand went back to his arm.
"I'm not talking about physical pain. That's something we can treat easily enough. But what Brainiac did to you leaves more than physical scars. You owe it to yourself to take this opportunity to work through it."
Richie fidgeted. "I'm fine," he whispered.
"I'll talk to him if he needs talking," Virgil put in. "You don't need to worry about him. We've always taken care of each other."
"But never when something this devastating happened." Batman folded his arms.
"Just leave him alone, okay?" Virgil stood.
"Wait, V…" Richie swallowed. "I do want to tell him one thing." He pushed at his glasses. "Can I tell you about it later, V? I want…" He sighed. "Please don't think I'm pushing you away. I want to tell one person at a time, that's all. And he… well, he…"
Virgil tried to be understanding. "He isn't going to go away until you talk." He squeezed Richie's shoulder. "It's okay; we'll talk later?"
"Yeah." Richie's smile was real this time. "Thanks."
When they were alone, Richie asked, "What do you want me to tell you?"
"I am not your interrogator, Richie. Or do you wish me to call you Gear?"
Richie, thinking of Brainiac taunting him about his name, made a face. "I'm not in costume. Call me Richie."
Batman nodded. "Names are important to some."
Richie shrugged. "Not to me. At least not right now." He rubbed at his arm again. "If you want to hear about what Brainiac did, I'm not going to give you a frame-by-frame showing. He raped me. Twice physically, and several times in some sort of strange dream state that I don't understand. I'm not ready to talk about it, but since you're being so insistant, looks like I have no choice." He glared at Batman. "What more do you want to hear?"
"Did you always know it was Brainiac?"
Richie jerked as if he'd been slapped. "Can you read minds?" he demanded. "Or is that Martian, J'onn, telling you everything through some little Bat-walkie-talkie?"
"I know a little about how Brainiac can deceive."
Richie ignored the irony in Batman's voice. "No, all right? When he was raping me- those first two times- I understood it was him. But when I was in the dream…" Richie's hand moved faster on his arm.
Batman caught his hand. "Look at me, Richie."
The teen glanced up, and watched in confusion as Batman removed his mask.
Bruce smiled, and it transformed his face. "I'm not here to hurt you. I only want to help."
"Why'd they send you to be my shrink? Did you and the other heroes draw straws or something?"
Bruce smiled sadly. "They chose me because my ward, Dick Grayson- Robin to you- was your age once. Of all those on the Justice League, I'm the one who has come closest to having a son. It's quite ironic, really, since I never even considered having children." He was holding both of Richie's hands now. "Let me help you, Richie. I want to help."
Richie frowned, then nodded, steeling himself. "All right. In the dream, it was Virg. I know it wasn't really him, and I'm not afraid of him or anything, but…"
Bruce waited patiently.
"But seeing him… I, well… I…" He was blushing furiously.
Bruce waited, and remembered when Dick had told him he had a crush on Barbara. He had sounded just this way, flustered, embarrassed, but busting with the news.
"I love him. It would have almost been… nice… to dream about Virg, except…"
This time, Bruce helped him. "Brainiac soiled it. He dirties everything he touches, and he ruined this for you."
Tears had appeared in Richie's eyes, but his voice was steady. "Yes."
"There's more. Isn't there?"
And so Richie told him about Brainiac creating a clone of Static and tricking him, at least for a while. "I didn't want him- Brainiac- of all people to see how much I wanted Virg. Or how afraid I was. I wanted Virg, but more than because I love him. I thought I was going to die, and I wanted to tell him… I wanted him to know…" Richie shook his head. "But I wouldn't have told him, I don't think. I would have been too afraid. I don't want to lose him."
"His friendship, you mean."
"Exactly!" Richie was crying outright now, his shoulders shaking as he fought to speak clearly. "When friends fight- good friends- and it's something life-changing like that, they can't stay friends. Either they become lovers or go their separate ways." He pulled his hands out of Bruce's grasp, took off his glasses and wiped at his eyes. "I won't risk that," he whispered. "I won't." And without another word, he replaced his glasses, stood, and strode from the room.
Knowing that he couldn't stop him, knowing that he wouldn't talk any more for a while, Bruce put his mask back on and went to gaze out the window at the stars, his thoughts turning from the brave young man he'd just spoken with to Dick, who had always seemed just as complicated as Richie. I was never complicated. I wanted only revenge, to the exclusion of all else. I was both blessed and damned as a teenager.
Part Two: Graffiti
"Where have you been?" demanded Virgil's father, Robert.
Virgil sighed. "I'm sorry, Pops. It's just that I got stuck and…" He shook his head. "Please don't ask. I promise I didn't do anything illegal."
"Richie's dad has been calling every half hour for the last two days. Where's Richie?"
"On his way home."
"He was with you?" Robert Hawkins shook his head. "Why do I even bother to ask? Of course he was with you." He grasped Virgil's arm. "Listen to me, please, Virgil. Next time, call me, all right? I'm getting too old to panic like that."
Virgil wrapped an arm around his father. "I promise. And I bet Richie's promising the same thing to his father right now."
"Let's hope you both mean it this time." Robert shook his head and tousled Virgil's hair. "Well, at least you disappeared on a weekend. Better get upstairs and start your homework."
Virgil groaned, but didn't dare argue. Now I know why it's easier for adults to be superheroes. They don't have schoolwork.
"So, are you really okay?"
"Yes, Mom. Scout's honor." Richie forced his hand not to resume its old dance up and down his arm.
Virgil grinned. "Can't help it, Richie. You scared me."
"I scared the famous Static? Well, things are looking up. Maybe I should go take that history test while my luck's holding."
"Do you still need to talk?"
Richie hesitated. "I should tell you, V… but I'm afraid."
"What's more frightening than admitting you're frightened?" Virgil asked seriously. "If you don't want to tell me, Richie, it's okay. I won't be mad."
"But it'll hurt our… us… if I don't. I'll tell you when we're in the gas station."
Virgil nodded and pushed open the front door of Dakota Union High School. He froze though, and Richie ran right into him.
"V, what's-?"
Virgil stepped inside and Richie followed. The two of them gazed, open-mouthed, at the graffiti on the lockers.
"N? Tar baby?" Virgil read.
Richie grumbled, "Looks like somebody doesn't appreciate Black History Month. Too bad all my relatives are in New York. They'd be the first suspects."
"Kids did this," Virgil said, pointing to a particular locker. "Who else would spell that nice little nickname with only one 'g'?"
"Uh… someone that isn't going to do so well on the SATs?"
Virgil sighed. "Very funny, Bill Cosby. Come on. The janitors will clean this up. We're late."
"V, I hate to tell you this, but we were late when we stepped through the door."
"Story of my life, Rich."
One of the fluorescent lights just inside the school doors flickered. Then, slowly, a white form began to slither across the ceiling and down the wall. It reached the floor, solidified, and stood up. At first, it looked to be someone dressed in a hooded, angel-white robe. Then the robe flashed and faded from view, leaving a tall, brown-haired woman in her mid-sixities in a white sweater and a long, tan skirt. She looked in the direction the other two students had gone and grimaced. "If there's anything I hate more than a room full of coffee, it's coffee walking along with cream." She glided down the corridor, heading for her office. "I'll have to do something about that." As she passed the locker Virgil had pointed out to Richie, she ran her hand over the graffiti, adding an extra 'g' to the word. I don't think I like those two thinking a child did this. Let them know an adult wrote these words. And she added another dash of graffiti underneath the word with the added 'g'. 'lover' "Let's just see how Mr. Cream likes that."
Richie ran his eye over the new plans for Backpack. If I plant the virus at this juncture here, it will protect the eighteen subsystems. I wonder if I need a virus and password for each subsystem. Then he shook his head. Why bother? If one of them fails, the others will be easier to attack. Sitting back in his chair, Richie admitted that he was probably just looking for something to do. School generally put him to sleep, and it didn't help that he was routinely distracted by Virgil.
It's not his fault. I'm just… in love. Richie blushed, and prayed that no one was paying attention to him. Maybe if I keep fighting it, refusing to talk about it, maybe it will go away. Or I'll just learn to live with Virg as my best friend for the rest of my life.
"Mr. Foley!"
Richie straightened so fast that he nearly fell out of his chair. "Yes, Mrs.-"
She grabbed the diagram off his desk. "While I'm sure this is a fascinating little project, this is not science class, geometry, or art." She held it up so the rest of the class could see. "What exactly is this, Mr. Foley, and why do you find it so fascinating?"
"It's a schematic for a robot I'm building in Science," Richie muttered. "I'll put it away."
"No, you will not. I will keep it." She smiled down at Richie's horrified expression. "If you want it back, write me a note of apology and have your science teacher add a little something at the bottom that says you can have this back." She walked back to her desk. "Now, Mr. Foley, answer me this: What did Conrad mean by the title 'Heart of Darkness'?"
She would just love it if I didn't know, wouldn't she? Richie rattled off the three-point answer and spent the rest of class plotting how to recover the diagram.
When the bell rang, Mrs. Snow told him to wait a moment. "Do you ride the bus?"
"No, ma'am." Here we go. I haven't been in detention in almost a year. What's Dad going to think of this? And how much is it going to cut into patrolling time with V?
"Mr. Foley, are you aware that I control your grades in this class?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Are you aware that you need this class to graduate next year?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Are you willing to let bygones be bygones?"
Richie blinked. "Ma'am?"
"Answer the question, Mr. Foley."
"Yes, ma'am, I am."
She held out the schematic, but kept it just out of his reach. "I want you to do an extra assignment for me, Mr. Foley. You do that assignment, we'll forget all about this little misunderstanding." She smiled. "I know you're a good boy, Mr. Foley. I know you'll do what you promise.
"Are you aware that there is a race-problem at this school?"
Richie grimaced, thinking of the graffiti. "Yes, ma'am."
"I want you to learn why someone would write graffiti. But this is more than a research project. You will become one of the white students at this school who do not even notice a black student unless that student steps into their path. Today is February eighth. The project will run until March first. Do you understand the assignment?"
Richie's first thought was No! You can't ask me to do that! It's wrong! Then he thought, But there was a similar experiment like this where all the students with blue or green eyes were discriminated against so the students could learn what it felt like. It wasn't widely accepted, but something like this has happened before. Just not to one specific student. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he thought. I could explain it to Virg, and it wouldn't effect us when we aren't in school. And he could explain it to Daisy and the others. They'd just have to keep their mouths shut so Mrs. Snow didn't hear that I explained things. Something tells me that isn't part of the project. He swallowed. "Yes, ma'am, I understand."
"Do you agree as well?"
Richie swallowed again, thoughts of Backpack's diagram in his mind. "Yes, ma'am, I do."
"Excellent. I expect a detailed report of your discoveries and your opinions on graffiti in regards to racial tensions on March first. Have a nice day, Mr. Foley."
Richie started for the door.
"Oh, and Mr. Foley…"
"Ma'am?"
"If I see you talking to any black students starting today, the project's over."
"Yes, ma'am." Richie got out of there as quickly as he could. He walked with his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets. His felt foolish and lost, but didn't dare try to find Virgil to explain things. That will have to wait until patrol tonight. He snorted. Guess this means I won't be seeing much of Virgil during the days. Maybe this will actually solve my problem.
"Richie!"
It's Daisy. And I have to ignore her. Forget about telling Virg everything before I have to hurt him, now I'll have to hurt her. Maybe I can ask Virgil to explain everything to her. Squaring his shoulders and hating himself, Richie walked past Daisy without even looking at her. She called after him several times, but he just kept walking. As he passed the lockers near the front entrance, he noticed that the graffiti had been cleaned off.
"Richie?" Now she sounded worried.
I'm scum. Just admit it. I'm scum. Richie walked faster, pushed open one of the doors, and escaped into the frigid February air. He didn't stop at the top of the steps, but hurried down as quickly as he could, thinking that she might follow him. He skidded once and almost fell, but caught himself and dashed around the corner when he heard the doors opening behind him.
Only when he was a block away did he realize that he'd forgotten his coat. Shivering now, he made his way to the gas station. Thanks to his technical know-how (and thanks to Virgil being able to charge some zap-caps so they didn't have to tap into the city utilities) the converted station now had light and heat. The lock on the outside was coded to not only their voices, but to a certain password and touch-code as well. Virgil had once demanded why they needed so much security. He stopped asking after Ebon was able to figure out that Richie and Static knew each other. He had kidnapped Richie to set a trap for Static. Richie grinned as he remembered Virgil's words: "If that shadow-clinger can learn something like that from simple observation, no amount of security is too much."
Inside the station, Richie at once turned up the heat and grabbed one of the blankets he had stowed there for the rare times he and Virgil decided to crash at the station. That didn't happen often because even though they were able to bring blankets in, they had a harder time finding cots, and the station's floor was made of rough, broken concrete they kept meaning to fix.
Sighing with a mixture of relief and frustration, Richie unloaded his school bag and began to work on his homework. Despite his sour mood, Richie smiled again, remembering how he and Virgil argued over when to do homework. Virgil wanted to "put it off til later when I'll be able to concentrate". Richie had argued that if they waited until Virgil was "ready to concentrate" they might as well drop out of school. To which Virgil had replied-
Stop it. You're just thinking like this because you want to see him. You want to explain things. And you're hoping he'll understand and support you. Tell you, "You did the right thing, Rich. That teacher's a scumbag, but you did the right thing." This isn't the time for a little cruise down Memory Lane. Focus on your work. Get it done, and by the time you're finished, Virg will be here.
The sun went down. Richie drew the blinds and turned on the lights. He trudged his way through English, Spanish and History, wrote a brief but passionate argument about why nanites were a danger to society instead of a boon for Science, and polished off his Calculus assignment. Sitting back, he glanced at his watch. 5:45. Where was Virgil?
Probably eating dinner. Which I should have done. I should really be home, except it's too cold outside to go without a coat, and even if I had one, I need to talk to V. This weird assignment aside, I promised I would. Richie considered calling Virgil, then decided against it. He'll come when he's ready. And of course he wants to talk about my discussion with Batman. How much should I tell him? I'm not ready to confess anything to him, but maybe I can tell him the rest if I'm careful.
He glanced at his watch again. 5:52. Not good.
All right, Gear, you're supposed to have super intelligence, right? Find something to amuse yourself.
He puttered around for a while, sorting things, running a full diagnostic on Backpack- just to make sure Brainiac's influence was gone for good, he told himself, but mostly because he was bored- and drawing up a new design for the Static Saucer. He finally decided Virgil wouldn't like it because it had stupid-looking stripes and fins. He balled it up and launched it towards the wastebasket.
The paper froze in midair, and Richie spun around when he heard Virgil laughing.
"You were way off, bro. It would have never made the can." Static guided the paper safely into its proper place, then strode in, shutting the door behind him. He tossed Richie his jacket.
Richie stared first at the jacket, then at Static as he removed his mask. "Where did you get this?"
"From your locker. Where else?"
"How?"
"I know your combo, Rich. We've shared combinations since fourth or fifth-"
"That's not what I meant. How did you know I didn't have it? Or were you just poking through my stuff for fun?"
Virgil was shrugging out of his costume and digging into a small footlocker for spare clothes. "I tried calling you on the Shock Vox. When you didn't answer, I got a little worried. How could you just leave it in your pocket?"
"I forgot. That little art show we saw this morning kinda shook me. Now, I won't bother to ask one of the Ws because I know who got my jacket. The question is, why did you check my locker and when did you do it?"
"About ten minutes ago. And I honed in on your signal." He grinned. "Didn't think I could figure out the tracking device, did you? You forgot that I've been to a high-tech high school-"
"For two days, and it was shut down because it was really the secret headquarters of a criminal mastermind."
"You're just full of helpful reminders today, aren't you?"
"Last question: why were you in full Static gear when you came in? Did you go patrolling without me?"
"Never." Virgil sat down at the table. "When I couldn't reach you, either at home or on the Shock Vox, I decided I'd better go looking for you in full battle gear just in case." He grinned. "So, are you going to tell me why you left your jacket at school when it's cold enough to snow?"
"I forgot." It wasn't exactly a lie.
"Uh-huh. Does this have anything to do with your little run-in with Daisy?"
Richie winced. "How did you know about that?"
"I saw her on my way out of class. She said she called to you- a lot of times, now, not just once- and you completely ignored her. She thought maybe there was something on your mind." He leaned forward. "So spill, Rich. I've got you cornered."
No problem. I'd much rather spill about this than about Brainiac. Richie pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I didn't want to ignore her, and I really didn't want to hurt her. It's for a project." Briefly, he described the confrontation and meeting with Mrs. Snow. "I know I shouldn't have been working on Gear stuff during class, but I couldn't keep my mind in one place very well. I was hoping working on Backpack's defenses would center me."
"Calm you down, you mean. You've been jumpy since we brought you back to the space station. Want to talk about it?"
Richie sighed. You never press, Virg. That's one of the reasons I love you. He blushed and ducked his head.
"Richie, I'm here for you. If you don't want to talk, or if you want to talk about only a little part, that's okay." He smiled when Richie looked back up. "As someone famous once said, 'I've got your back.' I think it was some guy named Fooly. Or Fowly or something along those lines."
Richie smiled wanly. "All right. You win." But now that he stood on the edge of the confession, Richie felt his hands shaking. He thought about looking away, but realized that he would rather meet Virgil's eyes when he talked about Brainiac. Looking at Virgil kept him from looking inside too much. "You know Brainiac controlled my body. He also controlled my mind. Not completely, or I would have never been able to tell you about Backpack's remote control. But he could send me images and fool my senses, too." His hand went to his arm, but Virgil stilled him.
"Just tell me, Richie. Once it's out, it'll be easier."
"Where'd you hear that line?" Richie asked, trying to stall.
"My Pops. And he's right about a lot of things, so just quit dodging me and start explaining."
"He raped me, V. Twice physically- he made a clone of himself, saying he wanted to experience rape from both sides- and a few times when I was in some sort of dream state." He had lost the battle with his eyes, and found himself staring at the floor.
Virgil had taken Richie's hand in both of his. He squeezed it almost painfully, but he seemed incapable of speaking. The two of them sat in miserable silence.
At last, Richie roused himself. "I'm sorry, Virgil. I shouldn't have told you." He pulled his hand away and drew his knees up to his chin. He rested his forehead on his knees, hiding his face.
Virgil stood. "You lived with this and didn't say anything? Why didn't you tell me before?" Even though his voice was tense, the hand he laid on Richie's shoulder was gentle. He took in a deep breath. "Please, Richie," he entreated, "look at me."
Helpless against that pleading voice, Richie raised his head, pushing his glasses up. He didn't bother to wipe away the tears. Instead, he met Virgil's gaze, afraid to see contempt or discomfort, but hoping for… he wasn't sure what. Certainly not love. That was a dream.
Virgil smiled encouragingly, but the grief in his eyes made Richie feel sick. Because it wasn't just grief, but fear as well. Richie blinked away more tears.
"Richie-" Virgil knelt before him, drawing at him until he put his feet back on the floor. Shaking his head, Virgil at first couldn't continue.
"You don't have to say anything," Richie told him. "I'm all right."
"How can you just ignore something like this?" Virgil caught Richie's hands. "How, Rich?"
"Well, it's either that or worry about what's already happened."
"Aren't you afraid?"
"Of what? Brainiac isn't coming back."
"Good point. But… I thought rape victims were afraid for a while after the… you know, the…"
"The rape?" Richie's lip twitched. "Well, maybe they're supposed to be. Maybe it didn't affect me like it should have. I don't know." He tried to look away again.
"Richie, I want to help if I can… but I don't know how." Virgil looked a little out of his element, and he kept shaking his head.
"You don't have to talk about this. I promised you I'd explain, so I did. But it doesn't change anything between us… right?"
Here was one thing Virgil could be confident about. "Never. We'll always be tight, Richie."
A long, uncomfortable silence followed this.
There's no way I would ever ask him about love, Richie decided. Just this little confession was almost more than our friendship could take. He closed his eyes and suddenly felt lonely and afraid. He longed to ask Virgil to hold him.
Virgil stood. He was still holding Richie's hands, and he drew him to his feet. The two gazed at each other for a moment, then Virgil dragged Richie forward and hugged him fiercely. Only then did Richie realize that Virgil was shaking.
"I never want to lose you again. When we found you…" Virgil swallowed. "You were so pale. Like a sheet." He squeezed Richie even more tightly. "Don't ever scare me like that again, okay?"
Richie brought up one hand and touched the back of Virgil's head. "I'm sorry I scared you." He tried to laugh, but he was crying again. "I'm sorry, V. I'm sorry."
Virgil drew back slightly and smiled. "Promise me I won't lose you." He was trying to make it a joke- that smile said as much- but his eyes were intense.
"I promise."
They both stepped back, and Richie almost laughed. Virgil was blushing. Well, at least I'm not the only one.
"Are we cool?" Richie asked.
"I've got your back and you've got mine, Gear."
Richie grinned, then turned away before the moment could become awkward again. "So, will you take my explanation to Daisy?"
"Maybe you better write her a letter. If yuh ain't suppose t' be seein any of us Negruhs, she'll wonder why yer able t' see me."
Richie glanced over his shoulder, his eyes dancing. "Your false Southern accent isn't getting any better, V. Don't quit your superhero gig."
"Quiet, or I'll string y'up, boy." Virgil was digging through a drawer for paper and a pencil. "Write the letter and I'll deliver it as Static," he said, his back turned. "Everybody knows you and I have spoken once or twice. I'll tell her I saw you dragging your feet and I wouldn't leave you alone until you told me what was wrong."
"V, Static's black, too, remember? I couldn't have talked to him, either."
"So? Static doesn't take no for an answer. I'll tell her I stuck you to a ceiling until you agreed to talk." He handed over the paper and pencil. "Here. Get started. Static and Gear still have to go out on patrol."
"Why don't we just eliminate the middle man? I'll take it to her myself. Gear has nothing against blacks for three weeks."
"You'd deny me the opportunity to see her? She thinks Static is the most amazing thing in the world, next to her favorite rock stars."
Ten minutes later, in full costume and with the letter tucked into his belt, Static flew to Daisy's bedroom window and knocked. He could see her inside, wearing headphones and scribbling in a book. Her diary? Hmm. He grinned and waved at her when she looked up.
Daisy pushed up the window. "Static! What are you doing here?"
"I've joined the U.S. Postal Service." He bowed and held out the folded letter.
She took it curiously and unfolded it. She read it once, then again, more slowly this time. A frown had appeared on her lovely face.
"Can she do this?" Daisy asked. "Can she make Richie do this project?"
"Either that or he doesn't get the schematic for his latest invention back."
"Can't he just draw it up again? I thought he had a photographic memory."
"He doesn't want anyone getting their hands on it." Static smiled. "He's still trying to be the first person to make perpetual motion a reality."
She shook her head. "He's a nutcase."
Don't I know it, Virgil thought. "Can I tell him you accept his apology so he can stop looking like a whipped puppy?"
"Yeah." She chuckled. "Though he makes a very cute whipped puppy."
"Can I tell him that, too?"
She scowled. "You do and I'll throw a bucket of water on you. Isn't that how you get shorted out?"
"Jeez, I'm glad the super villains can't figure that out."
"I'll keep it under my hat."
"Daisy! Phone!"
She glanced over her shoulder. "Coming, Mama!" She looked back, thinking to tell Static good-bye, but he was gone. Shaking her head, still smiling, Daisy tucked Richie's note into her pocket, closed the window and headed downstairs.
'Not again.' Richie stared, open-mouthed, at the new graffiti. More antagonistic than yesterday's, it mentioned several names of students who should be "taught what it means to be black". Richie saw Virgil's name, and his hands balled into fists. 'I don't know who the hell you think you are, but-' He stopped, closing his mouth with an audible snap. Across three lockers was written this little epithet: Lynch ropes were made with black necks in mind- R. F.
'That doesn't necessarily mean Richard Foley. I'm just being paranoid.' He started down the hall. 'Besides, remember what you're supposed to do. Don't stare at the graffiti unless you're willing to pretend to agree with it.' He sighed. 'I'm not ready to take that step. That's too much, even for Backpack's diagram.'
He was so lost in thought that Richie ran directly into someone.
"Watch it, whitebread."
Richie stumbled back and raised his eyes. The football player he'd run into had to be at least a head and a half taller than he was. He opened his mouth to apologize, then stopped. 'Shit. I can't. I have to just pretend I didn't see him.' Steeling himself, Richie wlked around the fullback.
A meaty hand fell on his shoulder. "Hey, punk, don't you have something to say?"
Richie tried to shrug out of the senior's grip. He didn't look at him.
The fullback spun him around and pushed him against a locker. "Hey, shrimp, I said-"
"Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"
Richie thought he would never be glad to see Mrs. Snow.
With a grunt, the senior let go of Richie and stalked away. He shot an angry glance over his shoulder.
"Very good, Mr. Foley," she whispered. "I didn't think you had it in you."
'Neither did I.' Richie looked at her, silent and a little sullen.
"You'll get used to it," she said. "But maybe you'd better watch where you're walking from now on." She started to glide away.
Richie roused himself. "Mrs. Snow?"
"Yes?"
"Have they caught whoever's doing the graffiti?"
"Not yet. I doubt they ever will. Criminals are very careful about the clues they leave. Hurry along to class now, Mr. Foley."
'If I didn't know better, I'd think she was tempting me.' Richie shrugged, dismissing the idea. 'That's just Gear thinking. She doesn't know who I am, or that I know Static.' He smiled then. 'Maybe Static and Gear will come in tonight and investigate.'
Static put his ear to the window. Twenty or so feet below, the circle in front of the school was deserted. "It might just be rats, but I definitely hear something in there."
"Not rats. The bio-signature's wrong. I'd guess this is a Bang Baby." Gear frowned. "That means we aren't dealing with your normal, garden-variety vandals."
"If we were, there'd be hardly any reason for us to both show up, would there? I'd go back on patrol and leave you to clean up the mess."
"Sure. Give me the boring job."
Static placed his hand on the window and sent electricity into the lock. The window sprang up. "Let's go."
Once inside, Gear whispered, "There are two bio-signatures." He pointed. "One I'd guess close to the gym, and the other in the cafeteria. Which one do you want?"
"I'm not in the mood to get splattered with food. I'd rather dodge basketballs. See ya!" Static took off.
Gear rolled his eyes, then headed off in the opposite direction.
The cafeteria looked deserted, but Gear knew better than to trust that first impression. Cautiously, he entered, listening intently as he scanned for the source of the bio signature.
"Hello. I haven't seen you before."
Gear hid his surprise. Where had the lady in white come from? She was standing below him, smiling radiantly. There was a white lily in her clasped hands. Gear floated down a few feet, but kept his distance. "Who are you?"
"My name is Klux. And you are?"
"What are you doing here?"
She sighed. "You're so rude. I think spending time with that coffee-boy, Static, is having a negative effect on your manners."
She knows Static but not me. Story of my life. Gera a smile, then it disappeared. Wait. How does she know Static's here? Did she see us come in? "I'm not here to debate choice of playmates. What are you doing here?"
"Just tell me your name, and I'll explain everything."
"Gear."
Suddenly, ropes spun around him from behind, binding him instantly. Gear struggled, but the ropes only grew tighter. "You're a Bang Baby!"
She curtsied. "My, aren't we intelligent?" She floated up to him and touched his face. Gear jerked his head away. "Naughty, naughty." She touched him again, and this time Gear couldn't pull back. "Much better. You're learning." She began to trail her fingers over his face plate. "I could simply remove your helmet, but not quite yet. I'd like to get Static here first and unmask you together."
Her hand dipped down and unclipped the Shock Vox at Gear's belt. "Interesting. Boys always have such nice little toys." Humming to herself, she studied the box. "Look above your head. Oh, I'm sorry; you can't." She waved her hand and a speech-bubble, like one that might appear in a comic strip, drifted in front of Gear's eyes. It read "Static! Static!"
Klux flipped on the Shock Vox and then popped the speech-bubble with one finger. "Static! Static!" cried Gear's voice.
"Static here. What is it, Gear?"
"Come get your Cream, Coffee. He's waiting for you."
Gear longed to roll his eyes. There was a simple truth to fighting Bang Babies: some of them could come up with intelligent come-backs, and some sounded as if all they knew about verbal sparring they had learned from poorly-written comic books.
Flux switched off the Shock Vox and dropped it. Gear heard it smash below them, a thing which shouldn't have happened because he had reinforced the communicators long ago against accidental breakage.
'She did something to it,' he thought. 'But what? And how did she turn words in the air into my voice? And will Static hear that and come to find me?' He had to admit the answer to that last question was a resounding yes.
"Hello, Static. I was wondering when you were going to show up." The thing in the white robe trailed her fingers over the basketball backboard, adding one more line of creative text. "What made you want to investigate some little graffiti?"
"This is a hate-crime." Static hovered in midair, gauging her. "You know my name. Who are you?"
"Klux." She smiled. "Now, are you going to get out of my way or am I going to have to escort you out?"
"You can try."
Static's Shock Vox crackled to life. "Static! Static!"
He was tempted to ignore it- 'but why would Richie call me? He knows I'm probably either fighting or just about to be.' Keeping an eye on Klux as she coasted around the room, spraying bleachers, floor and walls with her obscene sayings, Static pulled out his Shock Vox. "Static here. What is it, Gear?"
The box crackled, then a new voice spoke. "Come get your Cream, Coffee. He's waiting for you." It was her voice. Klux's voice. Static looked around quickly, verifying that was still gliding in front of him, making her symbols and smiling blithely.
'Too blithely. Too unthinkingly.' Static flew out of the room.
Behind him, Klux's image vanished.
Klux ran her fingers over Gear's mask, turning it brown and painting obscenely distorted features on it. "If you really want to spend so much time with a little coffee cup like Static, why don't I just make you your own little mug?" Smirking, she trailed her fingers over his chest. A black swastika was burned into his costume. The heat began to seep into his skin.
Richie tried to scream, but she had paralyzed him. 'It's Brainiac all over again.' Then he cursed himself for even thinking like that as panic threatened to overwhelm him. 'Static… V…'
"Shall I go deeper?" she whispered. "I could make you wear that permanently." She pressed her palm to the mark and at once smoke rose from it.
The pain Brainiac had dealt him had been like this, though not accompanied by the smell of roasting flesh.
A bolt of white lightning hit Klux in the middle of her back, and she slammed forward into Gear, losing her balance. Gear started to fall. Before he could hit the floor, he was buoyed up by a cushion of electricity that didn't burn.
Klux didn't wait to see what else Static had for her; she fled.
"Gear! Gear!" Static lowered his friend to the floor and dropped to his knees beside him. He inhaled the sickening-sweet smell of roasting human flesh and gagged.
Gear flinched away from the sound, one hand held up as if to ward off a blow.
Static mastered himself and touched Gear's shoulder gently. "It's just me, Rich," he whispered. "Stay with me, bro. You promised, remember? Stay with me."
Part Three: The Hospital, and the Discovery
"This is the last time, Hawkins. I don't care what you say. No white person would do this to my boy."
She was white. Dazzling white. But you're right: she wasn't a person, not a human, like you mean. She was a meta-human. Virgil sat, miserable and alone, in a corner of the hospital's waiting room. He, as Static, had brought Richie to the hospital after taking off his Gear costume and dressing him in the set of clothes the blond boy kept, rolled impossibly small, inside Backpack. Then Static had returned to the gas station, changed into what Richie had once called his "Virgil costume", and run home to explain things to his dad. He still couldn't believe how convincing he'd sounded when he told his dad that he and Richie had been shooting hoops behind the school when a gang had shown up and surrounded them. They had hurt Richie, but before they could do the same thing to Virgil, Static had appeared and rescued them.
Richie, I'm scared. Why did this have to happen so soon after Brainiac? Why couldn't you have had a chance to get back to normal? Virgil plucked at his sleeve and stared off into space. This isn't supposed to happen.
"Now, Arthur, I know how you feel, but the fact is-"
"Answer me this, Hawkins: how do you know they weren't black kids?"
Robert sighed. "I don't know that. But we don't know that they weren't white kids or Hispanic kids or Chinese kids."
"No Oriental did this." Sean Foley was pacing. "And if they were white, why did they attack Richie first? Why not your boy? They had to be black."
Virgil sank deeper into his chair. I'm glad you can't hear this, Rich. This sounds like a repeat of a very old argument. Two years ago, shortly after Virgil became Static, and before Richie became Gear, Virgil met Richie's father for the first time and learned how racist the man was. When Richie was abducted by Ebon, one of Static's enemies, Arthur and Robert teamed up- albeit reluctantly- to find him. And when Richie was safe again, his father had promised to change. He even started liking Virgil, or so it seemed.
All that's in the past now. Virgil sighed. One little attack, and we're back to zero. I almost wish I could tell Mr. Foley his son was attacked while fighting off a meta-human. But that's too dangerous.
"Even if it wasn't black boys, I'm still not convinced that school is safe. Did you hear about the hate crimes going on there?"
"It seems to me that would be more a danger to Virgil than to Richie."
"Not true! Richie and your kid are always seen together. And while your son looks tough, Richie's an easy target with his glasses." More to himself than to Robert, Sean added, "When he gets out of here, I'll buy him contacts."
Richie can't wear those, and you know it, Virgil thought, coming out of his depressed daze enough to glare at Richie's father's back. Doctors said so. He sighed loudly and stared up at the ceiling. Don't sell him short. Richie does well enough in a fight, whether he's Gear or not. He'd never leave me in the middle of something. Never.
"Mr. Foley?"
Virgil jumped to his feet as a nurse approached their sad little group.
"How is he?" Sean clenched his fists at his sides.
"He's resting, sir. Are you his father?"
"Yes."
"Visiting hours are over, but you can come back tomorrow at 10A.M."
Sean made a rude noise, spun on his heel, and marched out of the hospital.
"How badly was he burned?" Robert asked, approaching the nurse.
"I'm sorry. I can only discuss his condition with family members."
Sighing, Robert put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Come on, Virgil. Let's go home. You can come by here after school tomorrow."
Oh, I'll be here long before that.
"Excuse me." Static put on his most charming smile.
The woman minding the desk in the emergency room glanced up, startled. "You're… You're Static, aren't you?"
His smile broadened. "Yes, ma'am. I was hoping to check on someone I saved tonight from gang violence."
"Well, technically, visiting hours are over…"
"And I wouldn't dream of breaking that rule. But I was hoping if you could tell me how badly Richie Foley was hurt?"
Flustered (and perhaps a little taken by him; yes, her cheeks were quite flushed) the woman began to scroll down her computer screen. "Well, it looks as though he was given a room in the regular wing of the hospital instead of Intensive Care, so at least there's that. He sustained a second-degree burn, and it looks as though there's likely to be some permanent scarring."
"Can you tell me what room he's in so I can visit tomorrow?"
"Third floor, room 3017."
Static flashed his megawatt smile at her again. "Thank you. I guess I'll go back on patrol and check in on him tomorrow."
Flying outside the hospital, Static easily found an empty hospital room on the third floor. He opened the window with his power, slipped inside and relocked the window. Quietly, he slipped from the room and made his way to Richie's room. The door was open, and Static closed it once he was inside.
There were two beds in the room. Richie lay on the further one. Static crept to his side and looked down at him in the dim light. Then he turned and drew the curtain around the bed, shielding them from view. He found a chair, took up a position at Richie's side, and took his hand, just as he had on the space station. "I'm here, Richie," he whispered. "I can only stay a few hours, but I'm here now."
Virgil took off one of his gloves and touched the inside of his wrist to Richie's forehead, imitating what his mother used to do. Richie's skin was cool, and Virgil thought, That means he doesn't have a fever. He shook his head. Then again, why should he? Even if he was infected with something because of the burn, it hasn't had time to multiply and spread yet. Gently, unsure why he was doing it, Virgil traced Richie's cheekbone down to his chin. You'll be okay, Richie. I promise. He hesitated, then leaned forward and breathed, "I promise, Richie. I'll help you through this no matter what your father thinks or says." And, feeling as if he wasn't completely in his own body, Virgil sealed his promise by kissing Richie's slightly-parted lips.
Three hours later, after burning off some of his excess energy, Virgil snuck back home and crawled into bed. He fell asleep. In his dreams, he kissed Richie again and again. And, in his imagination, Richie opened his eyes and smiled.
Virgil ducked into the hospital after school. He saw the desk attendant who had been so enthralled by Static and smiled to himself. I'll have to come back later as Static and say hello.
Unwilling to wait for the elevator, he jogged up the four flights of stairs and opened the door to the third floor. The first person he saw was Mr. Foley standing by the desk at the nurse's station. He was talking to a short, brown-haired nurse. Mindful of the man's anger, Virgil slipped around the corner where he couldn't be seen, flipped on a small microphone Richie had developed- Virgil carried this in his coat pocket for spying on his older sister, Sharon- and listened intently.
"Sir, I cannot deny visitors the right to be here unless there is some legal reason."
"The legal reason is that I'll sue this place if they let any black people my son. Blacks upset him."
"He didn't complain about Dr. McClain seeing him."
"He's black?"
"Yes, sir, she is."
"Then that's the first thing that needs to be changed. I want to speak to your supervisor."
Sighing, Virgil opened the stairwell door and made his way back to the first floor. There's no way I'll get in there as Virgil. I'll just find a place to change, and come back as Static. At least he can fly and open windows from the outside.
Ten minutes later, he passed the woman at the desk in the emergency room and smiled his thanks at her. She blushed and waved.
Richie's dad wasn't anywhere in sight, so Static was able to enter Richie's room the normal way. The woman in the first bed was watching TV, but she gave a little cry when she saw Static.
He smiled at her, thinking, I'm a popular guy. "Hi. How are you feeling?"
She winked. "Much better, thank you. Are you here to see the boy? I heard you rescued him and his friend. Is that true?"
Static nodded.
"Well, go check on him. A boy his age should have lots of visitors."
Static peeked around the curtain that had been drawn between the beds. Richie was watching him and a tired smile turned up the corners of his mouth. The bed was tilted up so he was sitting up partially. He wore a hospital gown, and Static privately thought the voluminous thing made Richie seem much too thin and small. He could see the corner of the bandage on Richie's chest.
"Hey, Richie," he whispered, stepping closer.
"Hey," Richie whispered. His face was pain-haunted.
Static lowered himself into the chair near the head of the bed. "If it hurts, don't talk." He grinned. "I can talk enough for both of us."
Richie snorted, then groaned. His hand went to the bandage, then returned to the sheet. He smiled sheepishly.
"Idiot," Static said affectionately.
Richie beckoned him closer and whispered, his lips barely moving, "There's more you need to know. Got paper and a pen?"
Static frowned, glanced about, then shook his head.
"When you come back, bring one. And come soon." Then he said, more loudly, "Thank you for visiting me, Static. I didn't think you visited everyone you rescued."
"Actually, this is more than a social call. Your friend Virgil asked me to tell you something."
Richie groaned. "Dad still won't let him in?"
"Nope. Virgil says: 'Don't let this stop you, Richie. You're better than this.'"
Richie smiled a little. "Tell him I'm not giving up without a fight."
"I will. Just make sure you rest, or I'll zap you."
Richie was grinning now; he couldn't help it. "You better get going. That cool superhero friend of yours might show up and teach you not to pick on the wounded."
Static stood. "Well, when I see Gear I'll tell him he needs to teach you how to talk to superheroes. But before he mops the floor with you, is there anything I can do?"
"Buy me a car? I heard somewhere that superheroes are loaded."
"That's a rumor spread by swooning groupies. Sorry, man. No can do."
"Can you move me up a little in this bed then? I keep slipping down." He blushed slightly and muttered, "Can't wait until I can move well on my own again."
Static used his power to move Richie. "There. And I've stuck you there with a weak electrical field that will fade in about two hours."
"You should be a nurse." Richie sighed contentedly. "Thanks."
"Me all in white? Hmmm…"
"Forget it. You're no saint."
Static appeared at the hospital that night. Richie's roommate was asleep, but Richie was staring up at the ceiling, obviously exhausted, but just as obviously determined to stay awake.
Static held out the pad of paper and a pen. "You don't have to write it down, Rich. Your friend over there is out like a light."
"Not safe." Richie began to scribble on the pad.
Only then did Static notice how tense Richie was. "Anything you want to tell me out loud?"
Richie shook his head vehemently and continued to write.
Static sat down in the chair and waited.
Ten minuets later, his eyes tearing with strain and his hands shaking, Richie handed over the pad. On the top he had written: Read it then ask me any questions tomorrow I need to sleep
Static stood, and started to tear off the top sheet.
Richie whispered, "No, take it all. Just go. It isn't safe."
Static squeezed Richie's shoulder. "I'm here for you, man."
Richie removed his glasses and closed his eyes. "I know." He was asleep in less than a minute.
Static took the glasses from Richie's lax grip and set them on the rolling table beside the bed. "I'll be back," he whispered. He was tempted to kiss Richie again, but I might wake him up. Static left.
At home, Virgil turned off his bedroom light and slipped into bed. Then, careful that the light wasn't too bright, he used a small charge to fashion a tiny light he could read by. His father didn't need to know that he was staying up until all hours reading. Besides, he might wonder what it is, and I don't want to lie to him. As far as he knows, Mr. Foley is effectively keeping me away from Richie. And how can I explain that Static helped us? He's supposedly a busy superhero.
Virgil flipped the pad open and read the following message in Richie's hurried, spiked hand:
Read it then ask me any questions tomorrow I need to sleep
About Klux:
Bang Baby
Can imitate voices- I never called you that night: she did. She made a bubble- like a speech bubble in a comic book- in the air. It said Static! Static! Then she popped it and my voice came out
Wants to unmask us. Didn't do it to me cuz she wanted to wait for you
Doesn't like you and me because we're "Coffee and Cream"- stupidest sayings of any Bang Baby yet
Virgil laughed at that.
Reminds me of somebody, but I can't figure who
Can't figure what she wants besides fighting between the races- don't Bang Babies usually want money, power or recognition?
Mrs. Snow visited me here. Told me if I hadn't been hanging out with you- V- I wouldn't have been attacked. She must have heard how Static saved us. I hope so, anyway. She can't know I'm Gear, can she? Or that you're Static? I'm probably just paranoid. I told her V told me he'd pound me if we didn't talk, so we went to the back of the school. I was hoping nobody would see us. Sorry, man. Didn't know what else to do. She said I needed to stay away from you or she would publish the schematic on the Internet, and use my name. I'm such a moron! Maybe Static should steal it?
Dad was here. Ordered me not to see you again. Told me I'd be w/out money for a month. Don't care about that. Told me I'd be sent to a boarding school in Georgia or Kentucky and taught how to behave around "those ns". I hate him. Won't run away, though- not that I can. Static would kick my ass. Besides, Gear and Static are still free to see each other.
If you go to the school at night, watch out for her. I'm sure she has other tricks. Be careful, V.
Virgil crumpled up the paper in frustration. I hate him, too, Richie. How'd you get raised by somebody like him and turn out so good? He smoothed the paper out again, rereading the last bit. Be careful, V. Sighing, Virgil tucked the note under his mattress. He felt suddenly as he had the night he'd kissed Richie. He longed to put his costume on and just cruise around until he felt like sleeping.
But if Pops comes in and finds my bed empty, I'll have to answer to him. Virgil sighed and turned on his side. He was just saying be careful, like he always does. We even got into a fight once because he said it so much. This isn't any different.
Groaning, Virgil rolled over. I need to sleep. Unlike Static, Virgil Hawkins isn't supposed to have a very hard life.
It was an hour before dawn when Virgil finally drifted off. He dreamed of Richie, but this time, he imagined that he lifted Gear's face plate and kissed him repeatedly, while below them the whole city of Dakota cheered.
At the lunch table the next afternoon, Frieda confronted Virgil. Daisy, sitting on Virgil's other side, listened. "What do you mean we can't help him?" Frieda demanded.
"He's still under Mrs. Snow's edict. He has to work with her." Virgil watched out of the corner of his eye as Richie found a corner table and sank into a chair. His back was to them. Three days had passed since Static had visited him that second time in the hospital. Mr. Foley was still furious, and he refused to even speak to Robert.
Now we're ducking Mrs. Snow and Mr. Foley. Good thing Static and Gear have more freedom. Not that Richie's ready to be in full costume yet.
"But, Virgil, I saw him earlier," Frieda said. "He's been through a lot just today. I saw him drop his lunch tray-"
"I saw it, too," Virgil muttered.
"And do you know what the cafeteria ladies did? They made him pay for a whole new lunch! And he's being picked on. It's not safe for anybody in this place to not have friends, but it's really dangerous right now. Did you see the graffiti in the girls' bathroom?"
"Can't say that I have."
Frieda blushed. "Well, it says: Black pussies taste good, so taste all you can." She folded her arms and glared at Virgil as if he had written the words.
"Why don't you write an editorial about it?" Virgil asked.
Frieda scowled. "That's not funny, Virgil. You know our journalism budget has been cut in half. There won't be room for an article about racist comments in bathroom stalls, not with all the sports we have to report on." She turned away from him, and found herself staring at Richie's back. "Anyway, why can't I talk to him? I'm not black." She stood.
Daisy caught her arm. "No, but you spend a lot of time with us. That means Richie can't talk to you. He would still have a connection to us."
Virgil glanced at her admiringly. "You're good."
She shook her head, not flattered. "I understand how to play the game, Virgil. You go to enough high-power schools and you have to learn." She, too, glanced at Richie, then looked back at the other two. "Don't stare at him, Frieda. We have to pretend we don't see him, either. It's all part of the show."
After school, Richie wandered into the Science Lab. He didn't want to take a chance of seeing Virgil. Things had been tense in the school, as if the whole student body felt Richie's unease and sense of dislocation. Richie knew it was the graffiti, but he couldn't help but think that when Static and Gear were off-kilter, everyone else could feel that. Selfish and self-centered, I know, but it feels right.
The lab was empty, and Richie sank into a chair, staring out the window. He was sore, and tired, but he forgot both these things when he saw the woman in white hovering n the other side of the football field, throwing glowing words at a group of black students as if they were bombs. Richie pushed the window open and heard the words: "Dogs! Slaves! Beasts! Savages!"
The small group of students was huddled against a wall, ducking and cringing away from the insane meta-human.
Richie riffled through his bag, at last finding his back-up Shock Vox while the attack of words went on outside. Richie flipped on the Vox2. It wasn't as flawless and sleek as the original, but it would serve. "V! Answer me! Emergency!"
For a moment, he was afraid that the box wouldn't work. It hadn't been used in months. Then, "Richie? Where are you?"
"At the school. Klux is here, and she's a got a group of students cornered. She's throwing words at them, like those in the speech-bubble she used before." Richie watched the students below cringing and covering their heads. The words didn't seem to be doing any damage, but they were still exploding very close to the heads of Klux's victims.
"I'm on my way. Static out."
Richie held the Vox2 against his chest as he watched Klux. And she can do more than sling words. Richie wondered how long it would be before Klux brought out her ropes or something much worse.
Shit! I didn't warn V about the ropes! Richie activated the Vox again. "Static!"
This time, the box was silent.
"Static?"
Still nothing.
I'm going to have to go out there, Richie decided. He touched the bandage through his shirt. When I see V, I'll warn him. He left the lab.
Virgil soared above the football field, easily targeting Klux in her white robe. "You'll never win in a camouflage contest," he muttered. Even as he moved closer, she threw more words at the huddled students. "Hey, Snow White!"
Static hit her from behind with a bolt of energy, and one of the bubbles she had been forming burst in her face. "Monkey-face!" screamed the word,
Man, she really does say the stupidest things. Static flew closer. "Be careful there, Snowy. You might hurt yourself."
She turned, smiling. "Hello, Static. It's such a pleasure to see you again." She curtsied. "Are you looking for a something?" She formed another bubble. This one said, "Static's real name is…" She smiled. "I just need to fill in that little gap. Where's your superhero friend? Did he decide to take my advice and stay away?"
Richie sprinted onto the football field, searching the sky for Static. Come on, come on, where is he? I need to warn him before she-
"Where's your superhero friend?"
Richie skidded to a halt and focused on Klux floating above, facing Static. I'm too late. Richie backed up into the shadow of a bleacher and watched. The last thing Klux needed to see was a solitary target out in the open. That was a great way to make trouble for Static. Safely hidden, he glanced at the small crowd of students Klux had cornered. None of them seemed to realize that she was distracted at the moment and they might be able to get away if they were quick and quiet. Were V and I ever that stupid? I hope not.
"Why don't you just come quietly and save yourself some trouble."
"So polite! What white woman taught you your table manners, boy?"
Static bounced a ball of energy between his hands. "Come quietly or I'll have to stop being polite."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Static, but I want to see both you and your friend."
"Are you stopping to watch the festivities?" asked a voice at Richie's elbow. "I thought you had learned your lesson about hanging around the school after hours." A hand clamped, painfully tight, on Richie's injured arm, and he groaned.
"Mrs. Snow, I was only-"
"Watching Static in action? He's quite a sight I know, especially for a young man of your particular likes and dislikes, but you must realize that you are breaking your contract every ways but up. He is black. You are supposed to ignore him. Remember?"
In a flash of insight so sudden that it was almost blinding, Richie realized who Klux reminded him of. And of course she can be in two places at once… He tried to pull away from her, but her grip was unbreakable. "I don't care about my little drawing anymore. The deal's off." Again, he struggled.
She laughed merrily. "I didn't think you would be able to hold out. The blacks have gotten into your blood. But don't be misled, Richie; they aren't your friends. They will use you, take everything you have, and leave you. All they care about is shooting, robbing and raping."
Richie flinched at that last word; he couldn't help it. An image of Brainiac flitted across his mind.
"Have you been touched, then, dear? By a black man?" She turned her eyes to Static, who still faced the duplicate.
Something tells me I have the real one again. Richie groaned.
"Where you raped by that brave hero up there?"
"No!" Richie jerked to his right, and her fingernails broke through his shirt, tearing at his skin. Then he realized he'd yelled, because Static was turning towards him. "No! Static! Look out!"
The duplicate hit Static from behind with a particularly large bubble. Inside floated the words: "You know Richie Foley? Interesting." But instead of exploding, the bubble engulfed Static. At once, Static claaped his hands over his ears.
"Those black boys listen to all sorts of deafening rap. I'm surprised that little noise is bothering him." Klux and Richie watched her duplicated disappear, leaving Static trapped.
Richie twisted again, trying to ignore the pain, only wanting to get to Static.
"Naughty, naughty now. We'll just set right here and wait until his little whitebread friend, his little Cream comes to find him."
'You'll be waiting for awhile, then." Richie stared up at Static. "He might not come. They don't always work together."
"Where one is, the other is, too, or so they say." She drew Richie closer. "Or do you know something I don't?" She turned his face towards hers- Richie was paralyzed again- and leaned very close. "Tell me, Richie. For your grade."
"Let Static go, and I'll tell you everything I know."
"Do you know who he is?" She sighed. "I can see you know, but you're too stubborn. I could simply kill him. I hold all the cards. Just tell me." She rose into the air, dragging Richie with her. "Perhaps Static will tell me what I need to know." The bubble shrank slightly, then popped, forming itself around Static like chains.
Dangling Richie like a fish on a hook, Klux faced Static. "Tell me where your friend is, and I will not drop this little cream to his death."
Richie fumbled at his belt for his Vox2, hoping she wouldn't see, hoping that Static would keep her talking.
Static refused to rub at his ears, even though they ached. "He's hurt. You burned him, remember? I sent him to Batman's secret lair to be healed. He should be back in the next week or so." He smiled charmingly. "Or can't you wait that long to have your Coffee and Cream? Are you just a little afraid of us?"
Richie pushed the static feedback enhancer, thinking that once he had used it to shatter a three-story tall glass statue that had come to life. He tipped Static a wink. If Static saw that wink, he gave no sign.
Laughing, she shook her head. "I have defeated you each time we met."
"We've only met once, and you ran. I would hardly call that a sweeping victory."
The Vox2 began to vibrate. So did the bubble-chains. Richie was losing his grip on the Vox, but he refused to let it go. A little more, a little more…
The bubble-chains snapped and Klux released Richie in surprise.
Everything seemed to go in slow motion. As Richie fell, Static wrapped Klux in a net of pure energy. She screamed and struggled, but the electrical bonds held.
Static dove after Richie, scooping him up half a dozen feet from ground. He cradled Richie against his chest. "Richie… Rich, you scared me…" Static tilted Richie's face up and kissed him.
Richie was feeling paralyzed again.
"I love you, Richie. I love you. I love you." Static was kissing his neck, his ear, his cheek, his lips, still whispering those words.
Richie felt a little feeling coming back into his limbs and he struggled against Static's almost smothering attention. "Static… V… V, we're not alone out here… Virgil, stop…"
"Why should I stop, Richie? I love you. And I want everyone to know." Static reached up and touched his mask. "Maybe it's time they knew everything… Gear." He pulled off his mask and let it drift to the ground.
Richie watched it fall. "Static! She's gone! She's-"
Static pulled him back into a kiss. "She was never really there, Rich," he murmured against the other's lips. "I just wanted to know how you would react if-"
Richie twisted in his arms, not caring now if he fell. He would chance any injury if it meant getting away from this psychotic not-quite-Static.
"Richie, don't be afraid of me. I would never hurt you… Please, it hurts to know you don't trust me…"
V's never talked like that. And he never would. Richie went limp in the monster's arms, praying the thing would be fooled.
"Don't faint on me, Rich!"
"Stop calling me that!"
"But it's your name, isn't it?" Not-quite-Static bent forward, holding Richie's gaze. His eyes seemed to be lit from within. "Isn't it, Gear? You've told me everything about your friends, about Daisy and Frieda. Even about your father and Virgil's father. So is that your real name?"
I've lost, Richie thought. He knows everything now. Brainiac knows everything.
Definitely-not-Static smiled. "Just as I said I would." He closed the distance one more time, more, capturing Richie's lips. One of his hands dropped to stroke Richie between his legs.
Interlude: Back with Brainiac (1)
Richie felt sick, and stupid. 'I knew everything Virgil thought and did!'
'Yes.' Brainiac sounded smug, if it was possible for the self-proclaimed passion-less computer to be so. 'But you did not understand it. That is where your ingenuity failed you, Gear. Be content to reside inside me and learn all you can from me. If you insist on troubling me, I will simply send you vision after vision until you descend into madness. That is a human trait I have yet to study sufficiently.'
'If I go off the deep end, I'll do everything in my power to take you with me! We're connected, or did you forget? If I try really hard, I can pull you down. And if you send me another vision, I won't be fooled this time.' He made a lot of mistakes with that first vision. For one thing, suddenly 'we were in the middle of February even though it's May right now. For another…'
Brainiac asked, 'Do you realize that I can hear you, Gear?'
Richie flinched. He's getting 'more and more control over me.'
'Indeed. It was only a matter of time. No one escapes from Brainiac. Would you like another vision? You will find this one even more persuasive as the last.'
A/N: Thank you for the reviews! It took me a long time to figure out how to put the second part up, since computers and I don't always mix.
Mystery Squeezit: GL bothers me too, sometimes, but I actually like the fact that he's stern and a little arrogant because I was getting sick of Batman being the only superhero who was "dark" and "unapproachable".
Sailor Vegeta: There's always hope for Richie!
Dimitri Aidan: I'll agree with you: stories need to be felt. I've believed that, subconsciously, for a long time, but my opinion was given support (at least to me) by a book Stephen King wrote called "On Writing" where he says that he doesn't make up a story; he's just an observer in another world and waits to see what will happen.
Leev: Well, I've been kicked off FF before because I was too… something… xo I'm trying to be careful this time. Thank you for reviewing. I love your stories on here. I was just starting to despair of finding any good Static Shock fan fiction when I came across your stuff.
