A/N: This should be the second to last chapter I submit. But don't worry- the sequel's in the works!

Also, about the last chapter: I borrowed the idea of Robert Hawkins telling Virgil that Richie would have to sleep on the couch from now on from the story "20 Questions". I can't remember who wrote that, but please forgive me for using the idea. It just made so much sense to me.

Book II

Chapter One: Meetings Pg. 99

From the Diary of Virgil Hawkins (6)Pg. 113

Chapter Two: In the Middle of the NightPg. 115

Chapter Three: Hospital (Again) and Virgil Talks Things Out Pg. 132

Chapter Four: Worried About RichiePg. 141

Chapter Four: Worried About Richie

Virgil curled around Richie, sheltering him even as he sought the other's warmth. Outside, the wind complained, sometimes whimpering, but more often screaming.

Richie slept on, blissfully unaware of the gale. He murmured nonsense words and snuggled close to Virgil, drawing their clasped hands against his chest, over his heart.

Virgil smiled and kissed Richie's tangled hair. He inhaled the scent of the shampoo Richie used when he stayed for the night. In other words, my shampoo. You'd think after all these years he'd bring his own. But it was tradition, Richie 'forgetting' his shampoo at home. Just as it was tradition for Richie to leave a toothbrush at the Hawkins'.

"Virg?"

Virgil kissed the back of Richie's neck. "I'm here, Rich."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just enjoying holding you."

Richie chuckled sleepily. "Well, stop enjoying yourself and get some sleep. We have school in the morning." He lifted their joined hands, kissing Virgil's fingers. "I love you, V."

"I love you, too, Richie." Virgil kissed him again. "Go back to sleep."

"Kay… V?"

"Yeah, Rich?"

"You sure it's okay with your pops that we're in here?"

"I'm sure, Richie." Virgil hugged his lover even closer, smelling the mingled scent of the shampoo and that lighter musk/deodorant that was Richie's unique mating call. Someday, Richie Foley, I'm going to make love to you right in this bed.

Richie was laughing again. "For someone who's about to go to sleep you're awfully excited."

Virgil tightened his hold on his lover. "Hush up, boy, or I'll have to make you sorry you teased me."

Richie snorted, then moved even closer. Soon, the two of them would meld into one. "Go to sleep, V, or I'm going to go sleep on the couch."

"You wouldn't do that, would you?" Virgil sounded hurt, but he was grinning.

Richie kissed Virgil's fingers again. "Just watch me. You'll fall asleep and wake up with Backpack in your arms."

"I don't think he would stand for that, Rich. I think-" But Virgil stopped suddenly. Something had made a noise, seemingly downstairs. He put his hand lightly over Richie's mouth and then lay perfectly still, listening.

Creak.

There it was again. Now Virgil could feel the tension in Richie's back and shoulders. Either he heard it, too, or he was picking up on Virgil's feelings. Virgil sat up, careful to move so the bed didn't make noise. Beside him, Richie fumbled his glasses off the nightstand and put them on.

Creak-shriek-silence-creak-shriek-shriek-silence-groan-creak

Someone's coming up the stairs! How many times had Virgil, as a child and as a teen, tried to slip silently up that same flight of stairs? Too many times not to recognize their distinctive sound.

Richie, seemingly reading Virgil's mind, rolled out of bed, coming to stand on the floor without having made a single sound. He turned towards Virgil and the teen saw the fear in his lover's eyes.

Of course he's afraid. He's had a very bad scare within the last two weeks. He's still jumpy as a-

Creak. Right out in the hallway. Creak.

Virgil wished he hadn't left both of his Static costumes at the gas station. He grabbed his desk lamp, pulling the plug out of the wall and wrapping it up so he wouldn't trip over it. He crept to the door, standing off to one side, planning to bean whoever charged through the door. Richie moved to stand with him; he was holding the lamp from the nightstand. His eyes were wide and his knuckles white as he gripped his weapon.

Then, from just outside the door, "Virgil? Son, can I come in?"

Richie relaxed and even released a relieved laugh. "V, it's just your-"

Virgil held up his hand. This felt wrong. "Come on in, Pops." He moved back a step, putting himself between the door and Richie. He raised the lamp a little higher and whispered, "Be ready."

The door opened and Robert Hawkins entered. A noose was tied about his neck and Virgil saw the white-robes who prevented the older Hawkins from escaping. "Take your hands off him!" Virgil shouted. "I've called the police and you're going to be arrested if you don't leave right now."

"You must be a very talented boy," said one of the men, "if you can contact the police with the phone lines cut."

"You don't know about walkie-talkies, do you?" Richie demanded, his voice hard. It was Gear's voice. "So why don't you show a little intelligence and just-"

"Shut up, Richie. You're in enough trouble."

"Dad?" Richie's voice quivered and he dropped the lamp as if it were hot. "Please, Dad, please…"

"Please what, Richie? Please don't kill this nigger? Is that what you're going to ask? Or, maybe, please forgive you? Come home and we'll talk about it."

Mr. Foley's voice had a strange, fuzzy quality. Virgil recognized the buzzing hum in Mr. Foley's voice, but he couldn't place where he'd heard it before. So he ignored it. "You aren't taking Richie," Virgil snarled, his anger white-hot. He could feel electricity gathering around and inside him, and thought, If I kill all of them, no one would know I'm Static except Pops and Richie. And maybe Richie can invent a way to make my pops forget. "I'll kill you if you try."

"And that's all your kind knows: killing. I'm only going to talk to my son."

Richie started forward, but Virgil grabbed his arm. "No, Rich," he whispered.

"V, I have to. I don't want him to hurt you."

"Richie, I promise he won't-"

"You seem to have forgotten that I have your father." Mr. Foley pushed back his hood. His eyes glowed green.

Flashback

In the abandoned steel mill, with zombie-like members of the Justice League standing on either side of him, Static saw a familiar figure hiding in a shadow near the wall. He wasn't sure, but he hoped it was "Richie?"

The voice that answered him was Richie's but it held that strange, buzzing timbre. "Your natural electrical field shorted out my thought-control disks."

Static, still hoping that it was Richie; against all odds just a confused Richie, asked, "What are you talking about?"

That fuzzy not-quite-human voice answered, "I am not Richie. I am"

End Flashback

"Brainiac," Virgil whispered. He raised the lamp. "I don't know what you've done to Richie's dad, but don't think being in his body will save you. Leave him and face me man to machine."

Behind him, Richie moaned. "No, please, not again…"

"Come to me, Richie. Together we will build something the likes of which have never been seen." Brainiac/Foley cast Robert Hawkins aside and leaped for Richie.

Virgil swung the lamp, not caring if he shattered the man's skull. But he couldn't move the lamp fast enough. It felt as if he was swinging the thing through water instead of air.

Brainiac slipped past him and grabbed Richie. He lifted the teen off the floor and snarled into his face, "You will come with me now, nigger-lover, and I will teach you to mind me. I will teach you until blood runs out of your ears and you scream yourself hoarse. You're a sick boy, Richie, and I'm going-"

Virgil let loose with every bit of electricity he had, not caring if he hit Richie, not caring if the power shot through Brainiac/Foley and hurt Richie too. All he wanted was to stop the maniac in front of him.

Virgil?... Virgil….

All he wanted….

Virgil, wake up, lazy butt!

oOo

Virgil sat up, his eyes wild, his hands shaking. The sunlight pouring through his window made him almost dizzy and he buried his face in his hands. The sunlight made his eyes water.

"Get up, lazy butt!" Sharon snapped, ripping the covers off her little brother. "Don't you want to see Richie?"

Virgil forgot about his tearing eyes. "Where is he?"

Sharon's flippant tone vanished as if it had never existed. "The hospital called. Richie was checked in last night. Static brought him in. Static didn't know who hurt Richie, but he said he was going to find out." She sighed. "Pops is at the Center, and he said you and I could go visit Richie."

Virgil was struggling into his pants. "Is Richie stable? Can he have visitors?"

"The nurse who called said it's okay if we come."

Virgil yanked his shirt on and crammed his feet into his shoes. "Let's go."

In Sharon's car, Virgil thought of another question. "Have Richie's parents been notified?" Because if they have, there's a certain nurse who needs to be talked to.

"Nurses don't disclose that sort of information, Virgil. But I don't see why they wouldn't be called." She frowned. "In fact, I'm actually kind of amazed that they contacted us. We aren't Richie's family."

"Maybe Richie asked them to call us."

She nodded. "Maybe."

oOo

Backpack settled under the blankets, hidden from all but the most observant by the inordinate amount of bandaging, blankets, tables and equipment that surrounded Richie. And of course the robot made sure that he had a safe place to hide if anyone approached who might want to move Richie or shift some of the tubing or other things around. But until he had to hide, Backpack settled himself snugly against Richie's leg. Richie's hand held one of the robot's "arms".

Up until twenty minutes ago, Richie had been talking in his mind, asking question after question. Backpack ran through the list of questions and answers in his mind, mostly to pass the time while he waited for Richie to wake up.

Where's V?

He went home so his father wouldn't know he snuck out.

Was he okay when he left?

Backpack chose not to tell Richie his concerns. Until they were facts, he preferred not to frighten his friend. He was worried about you, of course, and angry at those who hurt you, but he seemed fine. He was very tired.

I don't doubt it! Mental laughter ran down the connection like water rushing over a cascade. How did you reach him?

I used your diagram for a voice-box to build a rudimentary one.

Really? It must have worked, at least well enough to get his attention.

It worked… but I hope you will someday build me a real one.

I will. I promise. A pause, then, Thank you for coming after me, BP. I don't know what would have happened to me if-

Please, Richie, I don't want to think about it. All that matters now is that neither your father nor those other men will hurt you again. I won't let them. And, even if he doubted the truth of the statement, Backpack added, Virgil won't let anyone hurt you, either.

Backpack sensed the fog of approaching sleep curling around the edges of Richie's mind. You should sleep, Richie. I will still be here when you wake up. If I'm not right on the bed it's only because I was forced to hide. I won't leave the room.

Richie stirred restlessly, then groaned. I guess I should. Backpack sensed the teen gathering his strength for just a little more "talk." First, though… Please try to get into the hospital computer. Find out if my parents have been told I'm here. And please contact the Hawkins' once it's a little later in the day and V's had a chance to sleep. He yawned. He fought against sleep again, though it was harder this time; the fog was nearly covering him now. That's if V's not already here, of course.

I will. Rest, Richie.

Almost… want to say… to say…

Gear fought his way to the fore, keeping Richie awake for the final words. He knew Richie would have wanted them to be heard.

Thank you.

Once sleep had claimed Richie, Backpack had sent a tiny probe to hack into the hospital computer so he wouldn't have to physically leave Richie's side. The probe was now well on its way to breaking through the first level of security codes. Backpack divided his attention between the probe's incoming data- mostly confirmation-seeking messages, checking in with home base, as it were- and Richie's sleeping mind. The robot didn't know if he had any power over Richie's dreams, but he intended to at least observe them. And hopefully I will be able to help him get through any bad dreams.

oOo

Virgil sank at once onto the uncomfortable, plastic-seated chair beside the bed. He was afraid to touch Richie, afraid that anything he might try would hurt his blond. Sharon found the other chair in the room and drew it closer to the bed. Neither of them spoke.

Richie was deeply asleep, his eyes moving beneath closed lids. Virgil studied Richie's golden lashes, watching the shadows they made on the teen's pale cheeks. He's too pale. Too pale by far. How could they do this to him? How could his father do this to him? Virgil felt fury overtaking him and pushed it down. Richie needs me. Richie needs me. He forced the sentence to run through his mind like a circular marquee, never changing. It was the only way to keep the anger from overwhelming him.

After five minutes or so of this- Virgil was amazed at his powers of concentration- the teen broke into his own thoughts. I will find a time to be angry, a time to punish them all, a time to kill Richie's father. But that time is not now. Right now, and probably for a long time after, Richie needs me. I will not fail him.

Richie stirred, murmuring in his sleep. Virgil, frozen, his fear still very much in place, watched Sharon reach over and take Richie's delicate hand in hers. He watched intently to make sure she wasn't putting too much pressure on the long fingers, and only relaxed when he realized that Sharon didn't mean to move Richie's hand about, but just to give him the comfort of physical touch.

I wonder if he can feel her holding his hand? Virgil smiled. Knowing Richie, and his Bang Baby genius, I'm sure there's at least a tiny part of his brain that knows exactly what's going on. Maybe I should touch him, too. Maybe it would help, But, at least for the time being, Virgil's body refused to obey. I can't; not yet. I'll try later when I'm not so nervous about hurting him. I'd probably hurt him because I was trying to be so careful. At least, that was how it worked on tests. Virgil could remember essay-tests in history that he'd studied for so hard that when he got to the test, he froze. I have to get this right the first time. I can't hurt Richie, even a little. He needs me to do everything right. Someday, when he's better, I'll be able to mess up again. Virgil smiled sarcastically at himself. Again, that time is not now.

Virgil felt a chill claw its way up his back and it took every bit of willpower to keep himself from reacting to the tension that settled into his muscles. I don't know if it will ever be. Maybe I'll have to treat him gently for the rest of our lives.

Then Virgil shook his head. That couldn't happen. Richie's stronger than that.

But he's been through so much lately. First Brainiac, then his father, then being beaten…

Richie's stronger than that! Virgil tried to shake off the feeling of Doomsday. And besides, Pops says "if" is the only word a thousand letters long. Whatever happens to Richie, I'll be here for him. Whether he recovers quickly, slowly or not at all, I'll be here for him. I love him, and nothing with change that.

But… if I have to take care of him always, how can I make the white-robes pay? How can I kill those who don't deserve to live?

Virgil chewed his lip and stared at Sharon's hand atop Richie's. She was tracing light circles on his skin with her thumb. It occurred to Virgil that he had never seen this side of Sharon, or at least not often, and never towards me. But he was distracted by his own dark thoughts and couldn't stay focused.

He tried to talk himself out of the hatred he felt. Richie read a book once… I can't remember what it was called, but he read me a little bit once that always reminded me of the work Static does every day. It was something like: "Many who live deserve death, and many who die deserve life. Can you give it to them? No? Then don't be so ready to hand out death." That's not exactly right, but it's close enough. And it comes down to the same thing: I shouldn't kill them because I can't bring other people back to life.

And yet… I can't just let them get away with what they did to my Richie. Virgil balled his hands into fists and silently seethed. The bastards should be crucified. I should castrate them. I'll just cut off their balls, followed by their dicks, then-

"Sharon? Where's V?"

Virgil's jaw dropped. Richie was staring near-sightedly at the hand that held his. Even mostly blind, he could tell who was touching him.

Sharon glared at Virgil, then grabbed his hand and placed it in Richie's own.

Richie turned his head slightly, but a spasm of pain crossed his face and he turned his head back. "Guess that wasn't such a good idea," he said hoarsely. "Hi, Virg."

Gently, so gently, Virgil squeezed Richie's hand. "Hi yourself. How do you feel?"

Richie smiled. "Shall I give you the censored or uncensored response?"

Virgil thought about telling Richie that he didn't have to say anything, but he wanted to keep Richie talking, just to reassure himself that his boyfriend was all right. "Probably the censored. We're in a hospital."

"I feel like Tweedy Bird doo-doo that was baked on hot asphalt, then squashed by an SUV." He tightened his hold on Virgil's hand for a moment. "But I'll get better. Nothing can keep me down for long."

It might have been Richie who spoke, but Virgil clearly heard a no-nonsense, tough-as-nails attitude that he usually only associated with Richie when the other teen was in costume. And so Virgil was left to wonder: was Richie really determined to be strong, or was he just trying to bluff his way through all the pain and fear?

But whether Richie was being honest with himself or not, Virgil knew one thing: he had to kiss his lover. And he didn't care what Sharon thought of it. Leaning forward, Virgil touched Richie's face lightly with the tips of his fingers. "Please don't scare me like that again, Richie. I don't know if my poor old heart can take it." And, tipping even closer, Virgil brushed his lips against Richie's.

He felt how dry his boyfriend's lips were. "Do you want some water, Rich?"

Richie looked slightly flustered, though not at all embarrassed. "From romantic words to questions of practicality. Are you sure you aren't bi-polar, V?"

"You'd be the first to know if I was. And that was more of a rebuke than a romantic hint."

"True, but you kissed me, so it had to be at the least loving." Then Richie laughed. The laugh was free, but Richie stopped almost at once, his hand going to his side.

"What hurts?" Virgil asked.

"More than I thought." Richie wasn't looking at him anymore. "Can you call one of the nurses in? I think one of the bandages has slipped."

Sharon stood. "I'll go."

Richie smiled at her, but the smile was distracted and pained. Sharon left quickly.

Virgil kissed Richie again, longer this time. "Aside from the pain, are you okay?" He felt his face getting hot. "You know, up here?" He tapped the middle of Richie's forehead.

"Not bad." Richie gritted his teeth. "BP's here, and that's some help. Wish you could stay until I have to leave."

"If Virgil can't, Static can."

Richie smiled, then winced. "I love you."

Virgil kissed his Richie again in reply. "I love you, too, but shut up. It's hurting you to talk."

"No… just to be awake. This isn't worse than the time I was shot, but it burns." Richie squirmed, still wincing from time to time. "Don't worry about me, V; soon a nurse will come and…" He trailed off, closing his eyes. A look of peace came over his face.

"Richie? Richie, what is it?" Virgil squeezed Richie's hand. "What's wrong?"

Richie didn't answer, but Virgil heard a familiar beep coming from near his feet, and he stared at Backpack in surprise. "Where'd you come from?"

The robot climbed up on the bed and touched Richie's face. Richie relaxed a little more. He opened his eyes and Virgil was stunned by the vacant look in them. He was even more startled when Richie started to speak in a slightly slurred voice.

"I'm drugged, V. Not really, since there aren't any forn… foreign substances in me, but I feel drugged… BP'zzzz blocking the connections between my mind and the rest of my body… It feels like floating… Kinda funky, but not… not bad… I can't stay like this, but… but it helps." Richie offered Virgil a rather dopey grin and closed his eyes again. "Going to sleep, I think… yeah, sounds good."

Virgil curled his empty hand into a fist. When he was sure Richie was definitely asleep, he whispered to Backpack, "You and I have to talk about what you just did to him. Later, and alone. We'll go after I call the Justice League and ask them to send somebody to watch over Richie. It's the least they owe me after I saved the world."

oOo

Richie slept the whole day. Sharon left at about 2PM, and Virgil caught a bus home about three hours later. He ordered Backpack to meet him at the gas station at seven. The Justice League had agreed- or, rather, Batman had agreed- to watch over Richie until Static could come to relieve him in the middle of the night.

Backpack waited until he was sure Richie would sleep through the night before he left. He knew he would be late for the "meeting" with Virgil, but he couldn't care less. Richie still was, and always would be, his first priority. It should be enough for Virgil that Backpack was leaving Richie alone with someone the robot didn't completely trust. Though, under the circumstances, perhaps I trust this Bat-man more than I trust Virgil.

Batman said something odd just before the robot left. Backpack wasn't even sure that the Dark Knight was talking to him or just thinking out loud. "Richie cannot exist completely isolated and sheltered from the world."

Backpack paused on the windowsill, and turned his sensor-eye to the bed. Richie was breathing easily and his face was untroubled. I will protect him, shelter and keep him, as long as he needs me.

Now there was no mistaking who Batman was talking to. "Be patient with Virgil. Richie is the center of his world, just as he is the center of yours." The Dark Knight folded his arms. "An excellent way to hurt Richie would be to start fighting among yourselves."

Backpack left. As he made his way towards the gas station, he wondered about Batman. Richie thinks that the man doesn't talk much. Perhaps that's true with people, but Batman seemed to have no trouble speaking to me. Either he feels less restrained around me, or he felt he had to say something.

But whatever he thought, how I handle this little discussion with Virgil is none of his business. Yes, Richie loves Virgil, and I wouldn't be so stupid as to strike before I absolutely have to, but that doesn't mean I won't strike when it's time. More than Virgil's love, Richie needs my protection.

When he entered the gas station, Virgil was pacing. "Where have you been?" the teen snapped at the robot. "It's almost eight o'clock!"

Backpack hopped up on the computer desk and connected himself to the other machine. Virgil had already opened a typing program. Backpack wasn't in the mood to be grateful. He informed Virgil, the words coming out as fast as the computer could take Backpack's thoughts, I have more to do than come when you call. I was making certain that Richie would be all right while we're both gone. And even if I wasn't, I'm not your slave, or your pet. I don't have to come when you call. My responsibility- my only responsibility- is to Richie. Before we can talk about anything else, I need you to understand that. Do you?

"Why did you do that to Richie? Why did you make him sound like a strung-out junkie? He was so out of it he probably won't even remember what he said to me." Virgil was standing in front of the computer, glaring down at Backpack.

The robot beeped loudly and tapped the screen.

"Yeah, I read it. And we'll talk about that in a minute. First, though, answer me: what did you do to Richie, and why did you do it?"

Backpack said, You're a fool if you don't understand why I took Richie's pain away.

"He sounded like an idiot!" Virgil shouted. "Why did you do that to him? Couldn't you have blocked the pain some other way? And who's to say he couldn't manage the pain? A nurse was coming and-"

Just because you call for a nurse doesn't mean on will show up immediately. They're busy people. And I can't stand to see Richie hurting. I had to do something. You might say it's in my programming.

Virgil seethed for a moment, but then he sat down, shaking his head. "I want what's best for Richie, too." He looked down at his hands. "It scared me to hear him sound so… out of it. I'm already worried enough about him as it is." Virgil stood and began to pace. "I'm just trying to help him. It's like everything that could go wrong is going wrong. I don't know how strong Richie is. What if he can't survive this?"

Richie is much stronger than you think. He will be all right.

"Do you really believe that?"

Most of the time I do. Richie is very strong, Virgil. I know almost everything about Richie. He has been through so much, but his spirit hardly wavers.

"Hardly? When has it?"

He becomes frightened and disoriented after nightmares, or just after waking up. Those are the times he is most prone to fear or irrationality.

"Irrationality? Richie? He isn't-"

Brainiac changed him, Virgil. Brainiac raped him, but that isn't what I mean. Richie thinks differently. He has gained much experience in a short time. The world he looks at now is slightly tainted. He might be too mature now for you to understand him.

Virgil flared at that, energy crackling around his fists. "Shut up." He wanted to go on, to tell Backpack that he was wrong, but he couldn't think of anything that would put the robot in his place.

I am only stating what I have observed. Richie needs you now, but there is a part of him that has been through more than you have.

In that moment, Virgil came very close to just frying the robot. Only thoughts of Richie's dismayed cries stopped him. "I'm going home to get some rest before I go back tonight." He stepped close to Backpack and glared right into the sensor-eye. "Don't mess with his mind again. Did it ever occur to you that you might do irreparable damage?" The teen stormed out.

Backpack gazed after Virgil for a moment, then disconnected himself. Virgil's last words had stung. What I did was for Richie's own good… but Virgil might be right, at least in this: I don't know exactly what my meddling did. I've researched it, true, but… Backpack stared around the gas station. What if I made Richie like that for the rest of his life? Frightened and in desperate need of answers, Backpack headed back to the hospital. He must find a way to convey his concerns to the Bat-man. Richie trusted the man; Backpack realized that he would have to do the same.

oOo

Hotstreak tossed a fireball from hand to hand. He and Talon had a lot in common. For one, they were loners, neither of them really seeking the company of others. I might change that, Hotstreak amended, and it was Aquamaria he was thinking of. Since they were so much alike, it had always been difficult for them to talk to each other without fighting. They purposely took opposite sides on any issue just to have something legitimate to fight about. If they fought over nothing, the rest of the Metabreed would talk. Hotstreak and Talon didn't want that kind of attention.

"Can you stop doing that?" Talon asked. "You're making me nervous."

"Well, it makes me relax, so deal with it. You were the one who came looking for me, remember? What's this all about, anyway?"

"Static and Gear."

Hotstreak groaned. "Why do you think I know anything more than you do?"

"Because Static's been your personal enemy. The rest of us just want to loot Dakota or achieve our own ends, but your goal in life seems to be to piss off Static."

"He's a cocky candle with an attitude worse than Ebon's. Why shouldn't I want to blast him?"

"I didn't say blast him. You seem to just want to piss him off."

Hotstreak's hands turned into torches. "Are you saying I don't want to kill him? Because if that's what you're saying, I can just roast myself a little turkey dinner."

Talon didn't back down. If she did, she would never get any answers out of Hotstreak. "From what I've seen, you just delight in annoying Static. Now, maybe you're trying to kill him, but I don't know that. If you are, I'm sorry I accused you of anything else." She smiled at him. "And if you threaten me again, I might just carve me a little hot dog. Comprendes?"

Hotstreak snorted, but his torches were reduced to candles. "So what do you want to know about Static?"

"Well, first I wanted to tell you something." Quickly, not leaving anything out, Talon explained everything she'd seen. She ended with, "I'm not saying that the kid in Static's arms was Gear, but is it at least possible?"

Hotstreak was standing completely still, not even tossing a flame from one hand to the other. Talon watched his expression. She was satisfied by the amount of actual attention he was paying to the facts she'd presented. Maybe her guesses hadn't been that far off, after all.

"Why would Static have Nerd Boy's little robot?" Hotstreak shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. Maybe Gear was hurt or something and sent the robot to keep an eye on Static. Everybody knows those two watch out for each other like a married couple."

"What?" Talon squawked. She winced immediately, hating whenever she sounded like the bird she resembled.

Hotstreak was too surprised by her lack of knowledge to tease her. "Haven't you seen what happens whenever one of them gets hurt?"

"I've never seen either of them-"

Hotstreak shook his head. "I don't mean seriously hurt. Just pushed a little, or knocked about. I hit Gear once with a flaming brick. Even though it bounced off him and he barely teetered, Static flew at me like…" He struggled for an appropriate comparison. "… an avenging god or something. And when I was being taken away to jail by the police, I heard Static say, 'You sure you're all right, man?' And Gear answered, 'Bro, I'm cool. Stop worrying. It was only a love-tap.'" Hotstreak grinned, very pleased with himself. "It sounded like they'd had that little talk before. Maybe a dozen times, but more likely a hundred. And neither of them was budging an inch. Static worried; Gear brushed the worry off."

Talon asked, "But does it work both ways? Cuz if it doesn't, Static might just be overprotective." It was her mother she was thinking of; her mother who always took care of her new boyfriend, but who was never taken care of by that same boyfriend.

Hotstreak laughed. "Oh, yeah. I blasted Static once and he went through a wall. Two seconds later, a freeze colder than ice had covered me from my neck to my knees. I tell you, I couldn't move for a day, and couldn't make respectable flames for three. Gear's never hit me like that before or since. He was ticked off, and probably scared for Static, too."

Frowning, Talon asked, "They couldn't just be really good friends?"

Hotstreak made a derisive noise. "Next time you see them together- if you ever see them together- take a good hard look at how much they touch each other. Watch especially how Static touches Gear. My guess is he's the more demonstrative of the two when they're in bed together."

"Okay. I'll take your word for it. So, we're back to where we started: was that Gear Static was rescuing from that place? And if it was, what do we do about it?"

"One thing at a time," Hotstreak answered. "First, could it have been Gear? Sure; anything's possible. And in this case, it might even be likely because of the robot touching Foley's face the way he did. But Richie Foley being Gear? That's a little hard to swallow. Even harder to swallow than Virgil Hawkins being Static. I'm glad Ebon captured Virgil when I was in jail; that's the stupidest secret identity I've ever heard of."

"But we all saw Richie Foley near Static. And he knows Static."

"So, maybe he and Static are good friends."

"But he was holding Richie. I know that's because Richie was hurt, but maybe-"

"You're thinking Static didn't necessarily have be carrying Foley, aren't you?"

She nodded. "And if that's true, then maybe-"

"-maybe Foley is Gear." Hotstreak shook his head. "It sounds really wack, but it's possible." He shook his head. "But it still doesn't explain why we haven't seen Gear around. He couldn't' have been missing for all that time. Static wouldn't have given ust he tiem of day, let alone a full-blown fight, if Gear was missing. Or if Static did fight us, he'd turn ballistic and attack every meta-human in Dakota. That's the kind of arrogant, short-fused little stick of dynamite he is."

Talon hardly thought Hotstreak could call anybody short-fused, but she kept her mouth shut on that score. "So, what do we do now? Do we tell Ebon or do we wait?"

"I've got a better idea." Hotstreak was smiling. "Let's go visit Foley. Maybe he'll give us some answers if we're really nice."

"But Ebon said-"

"Screw Ebon."

Talon's mouth twisted.

"Or don't. " Hotstreak was grinning again. "But he can't control me, and I think we need to try and find out what's going on. If we can prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that either Foley is or isn't Gear, Ebon'll call us heroes." He laughed. "Besides, I haven't been back to school in a while. I'd like to see how Richie's doing." He stood. "You with me?"

Talon nodded. "All right. I'll probably regret this, but I'm with you. Do you think Richie's home or in the hospital?"

"No way to tell. But I know where he lives- I've chased both him and Virgil home a couple times. Let's start there. If he isn't there, we'll check the Hawkins'. That's where Foley spends most of his time. And if he's not there, Dakota General's our next stop. He has to be in one of those places."

oOo

Richie awoke with a start. Darkness pressed in on him and everything ached. He had a fuzzy memory of talking to Virg before falling asleep, but the memory was so fuzzy it was frightening instead of comforting. He tried to speak, but all that emerged was a croak. Fear assailing him, Richie tried again. "V?" It hurt to talk. Nevertheless, Richie opened his mouth to try again, afraid that his first pitiful attempt hadn't reached anyone's ears but his own.

A hand fell on his shoulder and Richie jumped a mile. His body twisted and tensed and the teen loosed an agonized cry. He longed to curl into himself, but a part of him knew that would hurt even more. "Who's- who's-"

"Be quiet, Richie. You're not ready to talk yet."

Richie blinked fiercely, wishing his eyes would get used to the darkness more quickly. Then he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses, and stopped struggling. He closed his eyes, trying to place the voice. The connection was harder than it should have been, but finally he managed. Batman's here. But why? And where's V? His fear rose, but Richie fought against it. This, too, was harder than it should have been.

Batman's new talent was apparently reading minds, because he said, "Virgil has gone home to get some rest. Static will come later to stay with you. Backpack went with Virgil, but he will be back as well."

Why would BP go with Virg? Richie knew he shouldn't speak, but he tried to articulate the question anyway.

Batman stopped him midway through his first painful attempt. "Virgil said the two of them had to talk."

Suddenly Batman's strong arm encircled Richie's shoulders. Richie groaned as he was raised to a sitting position, but it didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would. A cup was placed at his lips, and Richie drank gratefully, feeling the water unstuck and ease his throat.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Richie's mouth betrayed his fears. "Clearly or just sort of?"

If Batman was surprised or confused by Richie's words, he didn't ask. "Give me the last clear memory you have."

Richie searched his memory. "I was hurting all over. I asked Virgil or Sharon to find a nurse, and Sharon went out of the room. Virgil sat with me and tried to distract me. It helped a little." Richie frowned. "Then it gets fuzzy."

"Tell me the fuzzy part."

"Well… I was talking to V, and the pain was going away, but it was different than medicine helping me. It was like the… connections between my mind and body were down… or blocked." Richie shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Nothing could block those connections except drugs, but I don't remember being given anything."

Batman was silent for so long Richie thought the Dark Knight had abandoned the conversation. When the superhero spoke, his voice made Richie jump. "Go to sleep, Richie. I'll stay here until Virgil comes."

It was easier than Richie would have thought to relax. In no time at all, he was deeply asleep once more.

Batman frowned down at Richie, but his eyes were turned inward. I don't like this. What is wrong with this situation? I don't know, but I think I should talk to J'onn. Maybe he can help. Or Wonder Woman. Prideful and self-reliant as he was, Batman knew when he needed help. And dealing with the interaction between man and machine was not his forte, nor was dealing with a teenager.

minijudi: I'm not that old. I'm less than a quarter of a century old, after all. And I'm still an amateur. I'll consider myself that for a while yet. But I'm glad you liked the fic, and thanks for pointing out that the chapters are getting shorter and shorter. This chapter's dedicated to you because I made it longer due to your comment. Thank you for your honesty. Oh, and I'm glad you found Klux interesting. She was confusing for me to write. Too bad she isn't "real" in the Static Shock universe; I'd love for her to come back.

I wanted to let you know that there are excellent authors for Static Shock. Maybe you could try reading "InHuman Touch" or "Green" or many of the others here.

tp96: I'm glad you're enjoying this. I'm having a lot of fun with Richie and Virgil… and Hotstreak. I didn't like him at first, but I'm really starting to warm up to him- pardon my pun.