A/N: There should be one or two more chapters coming. I'm looking for suggestions on whether I should put the sequel in here because it's really a continuation of the story. However, the down side to that is that the plot is almost its own. I'd like to know what you think.
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 OutPg. 132
Chapter Four: Worried About RichiePg. 141
Chapter Five: Imprisonment and Questions Answered Pg. 158
Chapter Five: Imprisonment and Questions Answered
Gear had been taken by surprise, a thing that had never happened. He had been startled before, or temporarily put off-balance, but to be blindsided by an event that had never even entered his mind… Gear was kicking himself for letting his guard down.
No. Not for that. Not exactly. I always assumed I could trust him, and I had no reason to think otherwise. There was no lack of caution on my side. If you mistrust everyone, you'll never have allies, and the fight can't be won by one person. Even as he thought this, Gear knew he was trying to make an excuse. I'm starting to pick up some of Richie's habits. When I was first created I didn't trust anyone, and my caution has served Richie well. I fell into the trap of trusting those who have proven themselves. Now I am a prisoner and Richie's on his own.
Gear punched the wall of his prison. Mental walls, real in their own way as concrete, only stronger, surrounded him. There was scarcely enough room to pace within the confines of his prison, and he considered himself lucky that he didn't feel claustrophobic. But frustrated and concerned was another matter. I can't break free. I don't even completely understand how Backpack created these walls in the first place, let alone how to knock them down again. All I know is that I'm separated from Richie; I can't read his thoughts, and he can't read mine. Here's a downside to the balance the Big Bang created for us: if one of us is taken out of commission, the other is only half a person. I'd survive without Richie, but I'd lose every shred of humanity I've gleaned from him. More important, at least right now, is Richie's survival. He will be up against his father, the world in general… and maybe even Virgil if Virgil takes it into his head to be put off by the change in his lover. Can Richie survive that? What will he do to stop the pain?
Gear hit the wall again with no real hope of knocking it down. What can I do? I can't even reach Backpack from here to try and talk to him. That seed of thought gave fruit to a whole new crop of questions, most of them about the little robot, and Gear found himself shaken by a dim shadow of fear. I will not give in to my emotions. I will not. I will-
He stopped mid-refutation. If I can be afraid, maybe Richie has gleaned some things from me. Gear smiled. Maybe there are some things not even a mind-linked robot can change. And I can always hope that Richie will remember what it was like before all this.
Again, Gear stopped. Do I remember what it was like before Richie's mind was split? He frowned and searched his memory. At first, there was nothing, and Gear had to throttle down a burst of wild-fire panic. That won't help. I need to concentrate. Maybe if Richie and I are still linked in some fundamental way, I can influence him indirectly. I have no proof of that link, of course, but I'm nothing if not persistent and determined to pursue each and every possibility until I find the answer.
Gear closed out every sensory impulse- strange how he could still 'feel' even in the prison that one little section of Richie's mind had become- and cast his mind back to one of his earliest memories.
Flashback
"I call him Backpack." Richie's happiness was infectious. Almost against his better judgment, the small part of Richie's mind that didn't have a name quite yet smiled proudly at their creation.
Static raised an eyebrow. "Backpack?"
"Backpack, heel!"
The little robot scuttled down, crab-like from the pipes above where it had been hiding. In a trice, it had climbed up the back of Richie's legs and settled itself securely on his back.
The unnamed personality in Richie's head thought of telling Richie that he didn't have to say anything, that the mental connection was almost completely formed, but Richie was still dependant on voice and remote commands. He wasn't quite ready to trust his invention enough to allow the full mental connection to occur. I don't understand what Richie doesn't trust about Backpack. It's only a machine like the Zap Caps or the Shock Vox. Why doesn't Richie wan the connection? It would be so much faster to just think things at the robot and have it obey.
Then again, I've only been 'in existence', completely formed and able to think, for two weeks or so. Maybe I can't judge yet. But Richie's stowaway didn't really believe that. Richie's mind had been split, but it was still Richie's mind. I have just as much world experience as Richie; it's just that I have to tap into mine. Soon, I'll have my own string of memories.
Static whistled. "That's cool, Rich. Maybe I can talk my pops into springing for one."
"I didn't buy him." Richie patted one of Backpack's arms. "I made him."
Now getting pissed off, the "stowaway" thought, And Backpack's not just a neat robot. He is a surveillance robot. And if Static doesn't want to use him, I will. Someday I'll be a superhero, too. I don't need super strength or the ability to fly. I can use my inventions to deal with the Bang Babies and keep me safe.
Yeah, came Richie's mental voice, I'll just think them into submission. Right. Besides, I've learned that being V's sidekick is where I belong.
From Richie's tone, the other inside him assumed that Richie had no idea he wasn't just talking to himself. He doesn't know I exist, and I think I'll keep it that way a little longer. If it happens that I have to take over Richie's body someday to help save the world, I don't want Richie to know I'm here. The element of surprise is crucial.
End Flashback
Richie's right; I am heartless. Or at least I was back then. What stopped me from just taking over Richie's mind? Simple; Ebon stopped me. He kidnapped Virgil, and Richie's burst of love and fear and determination kept me under wraps. It was Richie who saved Virgil from Ebon, convincing the Shadow-man that he had captured the wrong person.
Gear smiled. Maybe Richie is stronger than I thought. There may still be hope.
Gear reached out as far as he could with his mind. The walls around him held firm, but he heard a whisper through them. Pressing his ear to the wall, he strained to hear.
V… Virg, I love you…
Richie! I'm hearing Richie! Is he talking? Gear listened again, desperately needing to understand.
Please, V, don't stop. I…
An image of sunset and Virgil's glowing eyes shocked Gear and he stumbled back from the wall. The image felt wrong, off somehow, and after a moment Gear understood why. Richie's dreaming. It's not really Virgil, and Richie wouldn't be this forward.
He thought briefly of Brainiac. Another dream. Just one more to confuse Richie. I've got to get to him. Gear hit the wall with both fists until his arms ached and his knuckles bled through the gloves. Fuck! How do I help him?
Gear stood, head down and hands fisted at his sides despite the pain the tension caused. Calm down. Breathe. That's better. I've definitely taken some of Richie with me. I need to find a way to awaken the little bit of my personality that's in Richie. He refused to even consider the possibility that the exchange was only one way and Richie didn't have any of his superhero identity within him. Think, Gear. I can hear a little bit of Richie's dreams… so many I can influence them.
What Gear saw at first could hardly be called dreams. They were like snapshots. But as Gear started to influence them, he could read more and more. He labeled each and stored it in his memory, thinking he could use something from what he saw to help him reach Richie, or maybe even deal with Backpack.
Snapshot One: Basketball at Sunset
The back lot of the community center was deserted except for the two teens playing basketball as the shadows lengthened. Virgil, shirtless in the cooling air, was silhouetted against the fence and the sky above. Suddenly, he turned, his eyes shining. Richie laughed. "Go ahead, V; shoot. If you think you can, make the basket."
"Peep your eyes on this, Rich." Virgil left the ground, one arm arching up. Richie admired the perfect muscles of his lover's back.
Snapshot Two: Proposal
Virgil was kneeling in front of Richie. His hair was wild, and his eyes glowed. "Richie, I love you. I need you. Please, Richie, marry me." His grip was gentle as he took Richie's hand. "Please say you'll marry me."
Snapshot Three: Hotstreak (Gear's first attempt)
Hotstreak stood, fire running up and down his arms. Laughing like a kid at a fair, he hurled a fireball at Gear. Gear blocked it with a light, strong shield, then threw a zap cap- holding water instead of electricity- at the Bang Baby.
Snapshot Four: Brainiac's Lust for Knowledge (Gear's second attempt)
(Gear almost hated himself for using the weapon of fear.)
"I know now that no other race in the universe reacts to rape the way humans do." Brainiac methodically stripped Richie, who lay, immobile but conscious, on the bed before him. "When I destroy your planet, I will keep you with me for pleasure. You react somewhat differently each time I invade you. I cannot digitize your reaction. Therefore, you will accompany me."
Richie sobbed. 'Please… Please… let me go… I'm not what you want!'
"How can you know what I want?"
'When Static comes…'
"Static is dead. The Justice League is dead. Backpack is dead. You are alone." Brainiac spread Richie's legs, coming to rest between his thighs. "Accept your fate."
Richie fought to hide a sudden idea. They're not here, but I am, and I can still fight.
Brainiac was kissing him. "I do not fully understand this part of the rape, and so further study is required."
But I'm alone… what can I do by myself? I haven't been able to escape him yet.
Wait. I'm not alone. Gear? Richie's mental voice was strong, and Gear only wished he could answer. Gear?
Please, Richie, Gear thought, wishing he could really 'talk' to his other half, don't give up when I don't answer. Don't give up.
Richie faltered as Brainiac began to thrust. 'Gear?'
"I have killed Gear. You are alone, Richie. Submit to me. You are only delaying the inevitable."
Strangely, Brainiac's words gave Richie power. He remembered what Static had said to the computer under similar circumstances. 'You make that sound like a bad thing. I will never submit, and I will never give up. You can either kill me or be burdened with me for all eternity, but there's no way I'll do anything you want.'
(In his prison, Gear cheered, pumping his fist in the air. Give it to him! Give it to him! Give it to him, Richie! And he wasn't just talking about dealing with Richie's created Brainiac. If Richie keeps fighting like this, maybe I'll be able to join with him again, walls or no walls. Maybe we can give it to Backpack together. Gear refused to think of Backpack as innocent. He wouldn't trust the machine again. To make a mistake once was human; to make it twice would be idiotic.)
Snapshot Five: Fighting Side by Side
Ebon had backed Static and Gear up against a brick wall. "You're going to pay for crossing me, hero," the Shadow man snarled glaring at Static. He hardly seemed to notice Gear, which suited the blond teen just fine. He could use his new invention more easily if he was being ignored.
"You've been saying that for years. What's so different this time?" Static asked. Behind his back, he was making an energy ball. He glanced at Gear, and saw the zap cap ready behind his partner's back. Gear didn't have to be told told what his partner wanted: wait: let me hit and blind him. Then you get him. Static winked at Gear and launched the energy ball.
Snapshot Six: Brainiac Bomb
Richie kept very still. Brainiac had left him on the floor while the supercomputer built its new body. Richie was supposed to be under its control- but I'm a little stronger than it thinks. Or at least a little smarter than it thinks. Richie smiled as he thought of the bomb hidden just behind Brainiac. Backpack's main memory will be protected by the shield I built, shield, but Brainiac is still weak. I can kill him with that bomb.
Richie took a deep breath and set the bomb off.
(Well, Gear thought, it could never have worked that way, but it was a good attempt. Come on, Richie, hear me. We can conquer this thing together.)
Richie slipped out of his dreams and into uninterrupted sleep. Gear watched for a while, but he, too, was tired. His last thought before falling asleep was: When I wake up, maybe the walls will be down and I can join with Richie again. Maybe there's a way to re-fuse our minds so we can't be split apart again. There was a part of Gear that liked being separate from Richie, but he knew that he would still "exist" at least in a mental sense. Gear wouldn't have a separate personality, but he would be able to come out more easily, to deal with the world directly instead of switching places with Richie.
oOo
Sean Foley paced. He couldn't keep still. In the chair in the corner, Maggie wept. "Did they tell you anything?" Sean demanded, spinning towards her.
"All she said was that Richie wasn't there."
"Of course she'd say that. She wouldn't want anyone to know, would she? Why didn't you ask her where our son is?"
Maggie sighed. "I did, Sean, but she wouldn't answer. She hang up."
"Well, once I get out of here, I'm going to go over there and make her tell me." Sean slammed his fist into his open palm.
"But, Sean…"
Her husband glared at her. "What? Do you want me to just sit here? Who knows where our son is now? And that black bastard Static is the one who took him. He might be hurting Richie. We can't know for sure."
"But Static has never hurt anyone!" Maggie squeaked. "I'm sure Static just took Richie to the hospital."
"Maggie, you can't trust their kind. And that includes Static. Whether he's a superhero or not, he's still one of them." He shook his head. "Richie isn't safe unless he's with us."
Maggie muttered something.
"What?" Sean strode to her side and pulled her up by the arm. "What did you say?"
Maggie met his gaze with difficulty. "Richie isn't safe with us. He's safer with Static, or at a hospital. No one has ever hurt Richie except you." She waited to be hit. Her husband had never hit her, but it he had been hitting Richie for years. It was only a matter of time before Sean started hitting her.
But Sean let her go and started pacing again. "I was only trying to get it through his thick skull that all blacks are hoods. If Richie hadn't kept seeing Virgil… if that nhadn't turned Richie into a faggot…"
Maggie sank back into her chair and buried her face in her hands.
"Richie will go to Hell now, and it's all that n's fault." Sean pulled at his hair. "Someone needed to do something, and I did. I didn't know they would keep beating Richie. Hell, I was beaten a couple times as a kid; it never hurt me. And if they had only stuck to punishing Richie like they promised-"
Maggie sobbed.
"I didn't know they would hurt him, Maggie!" Sean turned towards her, his expression vulnerable and uncertain. "All I wanted was for them to get Richie out of Dakota, away from that hood. They didn't have to almost kill him." His expression changed; his eyes narrowed and he grew red in the face. "And I was on my way to stop them when that son of a bitch nshowed up. If he hadn't taken Richie-"
He stopped. Someone was unlocking the door of the classroom the KKK had turned into a temporary holding cell.
The chief elder entered, his hands folded serenely in front of him. "Sean, would you like a chance to be redeemed and forgiven?"
Sean ducked his head slightly. "Yes, sir."
"Excellent. We're going to find your son. He will be sent upstate to our facility to for troubled teens." He smiled. "But you will be helping with another project. This boy, Virgil Hawkins, needs to be taught a lesson. Will you help us teach him? Will you help us teach his family?"
Again, Sean answered with that nodding half-bow. "I will."
"Sean-" Maggie exclaimed, rising.
The elder stepped forward and put his hand on Sean's shoulder. "Now is the time to turn away from all earthly distractions and commit yourself completely to the Great Work. Please help us, my brother. We are calling out for your help, and we are fighting to save your soul. Help us."
"I will," Sean said again, not looking at his wife. "What can I do?"
The chief elder led Sean from the room. The door was locked behind them, keeping Maggie prisoner. No one listened to her pleas.
oOo
Static took the chair by the bed. Backpack was crouched on the bed itself, his one sensor-eye focused on Richie. The two completely ignored each other.
Between them, sleeping peacefully, was Richie. Static had checked with the doctors, and Richie would be able to leave in the morning. Tomorrow he'll go home with me. I'll say I brought him to the Hawkins' because they were the only people Richie said he trusted. And it won't seem out of the ordinary; Static rescued Richie. It's only natural that he would want to see Richie to safety.
Backpack, meanwhile, was using his wireless connection to the Internet to search out a safe haven for Richie until the teen came of age. There are several choices. First, Richie could live in the gas station with me. It would be easy enough to refurbish it. Then he would still be able to go out as Gear. I would have to find a way that Richie could get his high school diploma. Would he mid getting his G.E.D? That might bother him; Richie doesn't want to been seen as anything less than perfectly intelligent. A G.E.D. may be harder to get these days- I know Richie has thought about it when his father became extremely violent- but Richie longs for a diploma. Maybe there is a high school somewhere that offers on-line classes.
Backpack touched Richie's hand. And of course there are other options. I could find a wonderful family who would take care of Richie until he's eighteen. I know Richie would be a good "son" for them. Then he could go to a normal high school and graduate. The only problem with that is I would have to find a family I trust. Can I put an announcement and application out on the Internet? Would doing that get me the results Richie needs?
One thing is for sure: I'm not going to let anyone take care of Richie unless I am sure of them. All Richie needs are some cruel or negligent adults to be in charge of him right now. And there's no way I'll let him stay with the Hawkins'. I was right to suspect Virgil; he is irrational, hostile and not to be trusted. Richie needs me, and I won't let anything happen to him. He will get over his love for Virgil if I keep the two of them apart. Perhaps there is something to be said for keeping to oneself and not letting anyone else get too close. After all, I'm just an extension of Richie; of course I should be the only one he can really depend on.
Both Backpack and Virgil were too wrapped up in their own concerns to feel the approaching threat. Backpack would have detected the approach of the meta-humans, at least, and Virgil would have heard the shouting down the hall and figured out that something was going to go down.
oOooOo
It's three o'clock in the morning! Talon thought, exasperated. Why is there so much activity? There shouldn't by anybody up and about except the night orderlies? She peeked over the bushes at the shapes of people passing back and forth behind the windows of the first floor. Who in their right mind would be up at this hour unless they had to be?
Beside her, Hotstreak was muttering under his breath. He wasn't flaming, not yet, but his eyes smoldered.
He's probably just as shocked as I am. Only difference is, I've hidden it better. Talon continued to watch the people- their shapes made indistinct by distance and the glare of outdoor lights on glass- rush back and forth while she waited for Hotstreak to make up his mind about what to do, and when. This was his idea. Let him take charge. The last thing I want is to attract attention before we've had a chance to look in on Richie Foley. He's the only one who's supposed to see us.
oOo
I don't do hospitals. Hotstreak longed to scream the words. Why couldn't Foley have been at his house or at Virgil's? Why couldn't he be somewhere I can walk into as easily as thinking? Why did he have to be at the damned hospital?
Hotstreak, or rather, Francis, remembered well the two years he'd spent in and out of hospitals as the doctors fought against a supposedly-incurable rash of illness. If they'd run the tests right the first two times, maybe I wouldn't have been in for so long. But NO! They had to trust the tests to interns and not to full-fledged doctors. First the fools misdiagnose the illness as AIDS, then they give me antibiotics that it says on my chart could kill me. Then they don't realize their mistake and take me in for a CAT scan. Then they finally figure out that I have allergies and I spend two weeks recovering. Then-
Hotstreak forced himself to stop. Recalling the past isn't going to get my questions answers. Instead of thinking about all that, Burning-Boy, why don't you think how jealous Ebon will be when he realizes you've figured out who Gear is? And even Ebon will admit that once we have Gear, Static will do anything we want.
Squaring his shoulders, Hotstreak turned to Talon. He'd taken note of the people bustling back and forth inside. "We'll have to go to the back entrance. I'll grab an orderly's whites and I'll say you're here for Bang Baby testing. If we're quick and quiet, hopefully we won't run into anybody except Foley."
Talon considered Hotstreak's plan, then said, "Or we could find out what room he's in- you'd have to go in and do that much- and I could fly you to the right window. We wouldn't have to deal with anybody."
Hotstreak laughed. "If you're this smart, how come you're working for Ebon?"
"Why are you?" she challenged. "Because we have to. Neither of us wants to go it alone or try to start a rival gang." She looked back towards the hospital. "So, are you going or what?"
"I'm going, I'm going." Hotstreak stood up and strode purposefully towards the main doors. Inside, he was quaking, but he would char-broiled before he'd let anyone know, or even guess at, that fact.
Once inside, Hotstreak took in the confusion in the emergency room. Three women with nametags were arguing behind a desk. A little further on, a doctor was shouting at an intern. Give to him good, doc, Hotstreak thought, grinning. And, nearer at hand, people crowded in plastic chairs. Some of them looked shocked, others angry. But the vast majority of them were terrified. A child was crying and his mother was trying to comfort him. Well, kid, this place makes me want to cry, too. Welcome to the real world.
Hotstreak started towards the desk, thinking to interrupt the arguing women. How else would he get the information he needed? But he stopped halfway there and looked back at the huddled mass of people. Hotstreak knew from experience that total strangers didn't normally like to be right next to each other. Yet all these people were crowded as far away from the main doors as possible, some actually sitting on the floor in front of others, even though there were plenty of empty chairs. What's got them so spooked? It can't possibly be this place- I'm not the only one to have suffered in a hospital, but all these people couldn't be thinking the same way I am.
As Hotstreak continued to watch the people, he realized that their behavior was familiar to him. This is the way they act whenever a Bang Baby shows up. This is how they cower when they see me. Well, no one was looking at him now. They were too wrapped up in whatever had just happened. And it doesn't look like it's over. What have I walked into?
Hotstreak glanced around again, confirming that he didn't see anyone standing around with guns. There's no one here right now; why don't those people just run out? Has somebody called the police? Oh, that would just be perfect. Someone calls the cops and I get busted without even having done what I came for. Hotstreak strode purposefully towards the desk. He looked at the women more closely, noticing for the first tiem that they seemed more frightened than angry.
A man shouted, "Everybody hit the floor!"
Hotstreak considered turning to see who it was, but decided he didn't want to draw attention to himself. He put his face in the crook of his elbow so he could see. Someone in a white sheet strode past him. The sheet brushed the floor, and Hotstreak was seized by a mad urge to grab the sheet and say something smart like, "Nice dress." He resisted the urge and simply watched the man walk to the desk.
"One of you get up. I want to know something."
There was the sound of shuffling, then a woman asked, "Can I help you, sir?"
"Well, at least you're polite. Where's Richard Osgood Foley's room?"
Hotstreak couldn't believe his luck, both good and bad. He was about to learn the room number of the teen he was looking for… but apparently others had gotten there before him. And what could they want with Foley? He frowned. Who are they, anyway? Do they all wear sheets? What kinds of criminals wear sheets they could easily trip over? That's the stupidest thing-
Then Hotstreak had to laugh at himself. I'm an idiot. Just because blacks and whites fight side by side in Dakota doesn't mean all racism is gone. I think that was one of the few history lessons I didn't sleep through or skip. The Ku Klux Klan… and didn't Mr. Nilsson say there are still pockets of the organization hiding around the country.
"He's in room thirty-three forty," the woman at the desk said.
Way to protect your patients, lady, Hotstreak thought, feeling a rush of loathing. He almost hoped the guy in the sheet would kill her just to teach her a lesson.
"Thank you. You may lay down again."
Hotstreak watched the man disappear through a door. Slwoly, everyone go to to their feet. Hotstreak left the hospital. They're idiots. Don't they think people will leave and the police will be after them?
That was when the bullet whizzed past his ear. Hotstreak spun around. He took in the three sheeted figures and the guns they carried. The one in the middle said, "Get back inside, son. We have no beef with you." He almost sounded as if he were smiling.
Hotstreak lit his fists. "If you try that again, I'll make myself some white chicken breasts." He took a step forward, grinning. He was well aware that he couldn't stop bullets… but those he faced didn't know that.
The three men exchanged a look, then turned and ran for the doors of the hospital.
"I thought you'd see it my way," Hotstreak muttered. He jogged back to the bushes where he'd left Talon. If we're going to get to Foley before those guys do, we'll have to move fast. He shook his head. But why would they want him in the first place? He's white
oOo
In Richie's mind, Gear came awake with a start. The walls around him were thin; he sensed the change in them. At once, he was on his feet. He pounded at the walls and shouted, "Richie! Richie! Wake up!"
The walls held, and Gear began to lose his strength. He'd gotten less than two hours' sleep. But an alarm was going off somewhere, and Gear realized that he was getting a little bit of information from Backpack. Didn't the robot know what was going on? Why didn't he wake Richie? Why didn't he take the walls away?
Gear began to kick the wall with all his waning strength. "Richie, wake up! We're under attack! Wake up, Richie!"
oOo
Richie's eyes flew open. "Attack," he whispered, fumbling for his glasses. Why weren't they on his bedside table where they should be? For that matter, where was his bedside table?
"Rich, it's okay, man. You're fine. Just relax. You're in the hospital, remember? I'm here." A pause, then, "So's Backpack."
Richie stopped hunting for his glasses. "V! Someone's coming! You need to get dressed and-" He squinted. "Oh, good, you're already dressed. You didn't bring my gear, did you?"
Virgil squeezed Richie's hand. On the blond teen's other side, Backpack beeped softly, reassuringly.
I'm here, Richie. Everything is all right. No one will hurt you.
BP? How'd you get here? Never mind. Can you feel it? Something's coming.
Richie, if something was coming, I would have sensed- Backpack's audible alarm at last went off, and the robot almost cursed. I'll find out what's going on. You just rest.
Richie, trusting, turned his mind from one friend to the other. "Uh, Static, could I have my glasses?" Just in case they weren't alone. Even though I already said V… Ah, well, can't be helped now. Wish I had Gear's ability to switch immediately from sleep to wakefulness. At that moment, Richie should have realized that Gear wasn't in his mind, but he was too worried about the alarm.
Virgil handed Richie's glasses over, and the teen scrabbled them on. "Rich, it's okay."
Richie stared at his lover in shock. "It's not! Didn't you hear Backpack's alarm?"
"There are probably meta-humans out there somewhere, Rich. It's not a big deal. I'll make sure you're settled then-"
Richie held up a hand. "Listen."
Virgil started to speak again, but the look of fierce concentration on Richie's face silenced him, at least for the moment. Somewhere outside the room, probably on the floor below, came the distinct sound of screaming.
"Someone's coming, and I don't think they're well-wishers," Richie muttered.
"Rich, whoever it is isn't after you. I know Brainiac made you feel jumpy, but-"
Richie sat up, ignoring the flare of pain in his back and shoulders. "This isn't about Brainiac! They're coming for us." He shook his head, angry that Virgil wouldn't listen to him. "I don't know how I know, but I do. And even if they aren't after us, you're Static; you have to do something." He took in Virgil's shocked expression and added, "I'll be fine here with Backpack. Go find out what's wrong."
Static stood. "All right, Rich; I'm going. But when I get back we have to talk."
Richie nodded. Anything if it gets you in defense mode, his eyes answered.
Virgil left.
Richie glanced around the room. He couldn't see any of his street clothes, let alone his uniform. But I really don't want to be found in this gown. His eyes fell on Virgil's backpack. Sometimes, I wonder why the other Bang Babies don't figure out who we are. If they've seen Static carrying that around, how hard can it be to check the style of his backpack against other backpacks owned by African-American teenagers who have spiky hair-cuts?
Well, that wasn't really the issue right now. For the moment, Richie was glad Static had brought the bag. V's a little taller than me, but I'll mange. "BP, could you bring me that bag? I'd rather be dressed when our friends arrive."
Backpack hopped off the bed to comply. I'll protect you, Richie. You won't have to fight.
I'm not worried, BP. Between you and V, I'm pretty much covered. Wish I had my costume, though. I'd feel safer as Gear.
That was when Richie sensed the silence within himself where there had been another voice. It was strange; Richie had spent more then fifteen of his sixteen years with one mind, one perspective instead of two, but he had grown to trust in Gear, and to count on the new view his alter-ego provided. Gear? He closed his eyes and focused within. Gear, can you hear me?
There was no answer, and Richie had to struggle against the sudden terror that assailed him. Let me get dressed, he thought, fighting for practicality. Then I'll try to contact Gear again. I can ask Backpack, too.
Richie took the clothes Backpack offered him. It was hard to struggle into them, but with Backpack's help he managed. His back pained furiously when he shrugged into his shirt, but Richie gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. Using the side of the bed, Richie stood and was able to put his jeans on. But there was no way he was going to be able to bend forward and put on his socks and shoes. Backpack finished dressing Richie as the teen leaned back against the pillow, trying not to make any sound of pain. They're closer now. I don't know how close, but they're closer. I can't let them know I'm in any pain. I can't let them know I'm weak.
When Backpack was beside him once more, Richie sat up again and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his mind turning back to the disturbing silence from his split personality. BP, can you reach Gear? He isn't speaking to me.
Backpack reached into Richie's mind.
oOo
Gear felt the invasion at once and his instinct was to lash out. But, he consented, it might be Richie. I can't tell much of anything from in here. All I know is Richie's awake now, and that's something. Gear sat on the floor of his cell, leaning against the wall. Exhaustion threatened to drag him down, but Gear wouldn't be taken by any enemy, let alone his own body, mental and created though it was. I wonder if Richie's this tired. Hopefully, it's just me and Richie has his wits about him. Gear groaned. If only I could get out of here. Then I could give Richie my determination and he could lend me some of his strength.
There came a tap on the wall. Gear leapt to his feet. "I'm here!" he shouted. "I can't get out, but I'm here!"
Backpack's voice came through the barrier, nearly inaudible. "Gear, how did you get in there? Where did the walls come from?"
It doesn't know? Or is Backpack just playing me? "I can't answer either of those questions. Here's one of my own: how's Richie?"
"He is well, thank you. Though he seems convinced that someone is coming to get him. Is that perhaps your doing?"
"I can barely hear you, Backpack; how could I influence Richie?"
"Perhaps feelings carry through the barrier even when actual words don't. I suggest you stop transmitting your anxiety. Richie does not need that right now. He needs to know he's safe."
Gear's mouth thinned to a single line. It sounds like Brainiac. Not vocally, but word-wise. I don't think it can possibly be Brainiac, but I wouldn't be surprised if… Gear stopped. Backpack was waiting for an answer. "He won't feel safe while I'm in here."
"He has me. He doesn't need you."
"I am part of Richie. Let me go back to him. With us apart-"
"I am not the one who created this wall. Thus, I do not know how to make it go away. You will have to find a way out on your own. I need to go back to Richie. I will tell him you are trapped somehow. Perhaps Richie will be able to disable the wall from the outside."
You're not going to tell Richie anything, you lying bastard. Gear forced his voice to be calm. "Thank you." As soon as Backpack was gone, Gear started "shouting" at Richie again, praying his sense of foreboding, if not the actual words, would reach his other half.
oOo
Static prowled the third floor corridor for a few minutes, making sure that it was deserted except for patients. There was no way he was going to leave Richie if there was even the slightest chance that an attacker was waiting just around the corner. Of course, the possibility that this is all just in Richie's mind is something I can't completely discount. I know there was a scream, but screams happen for a lot of reasons. And Backpack did say Richie thinks about the world differently now. Maybe he had a dream and confused it with reality. Or maybe he-
Static heard the sound of running feet on the floor below him. People don't run in hospitals. Not often, anyway. He sighed. I owe it to Richie to at least check it out. And Backpack's alarm did go off. Resigning himself, and confident in his heart that Richie was completely safe, Static entered the stairwell and started down to the floor below. I'll check this out, do my superhero duty, then come back to Richie with a fully report. He'll appreciate that I at least checked.
oOo
Backpack watched Richie trying to center himself in spite of the pain he must feel. Richie, what are you trying to do?
Richie didn't answer at once, and that was worrisome. Backpack tried again. Richie? Please, Richie, answer me. Whatever you need, I can-
Guard the door and the windows, please. I'll be with you in a minuet.
Richie's mental tone was almost chilly. It reminded Backpack very strongly of Gear… and just a little of Brainiac in all the supercomputer's unemotional lust for knowledge. But, Richie, I'm worried about you.
Again, Richie didn't answer. And when Backpack tried to enter his mind, to see what Richie was "seeing," he found himself coming up against a block. That stunned him, and Backpack took a step back from Richie. He hadn't encountered such a block since very early in their relationship when Richie had been nervous about having a machine connected directly to his mind. In those days, I talked mostly to Gear when I talked at all. Gear wasn't afraid of me. Backpack thought of Gear, walled up inside Richie, separated from Richie by a wall that the robot didn't understand. He thought I put it there. Gear doesn't turst me anymore. And now netiehr does Richie.
Hurt, but determined nonetheless to protect his Richie, Backpack turned his sensors on full and started scanning for the nearest threats. He was, after all, not vengeful. He did only what he had to. And I have heard the teenagers can be moody, that they can lash out at their greatest protectors. Perhaps that is what's going on here. I'll watch, I'll wait, and I'll be ready to accept Richie's explanation- any explanation- when he deicdes to let me in.
oOo
Gear wondered idly if the situation could get any worse. He'd picked up a couple of facts, and none of them were good. One, Richie was weak; not exhausted, but unable to fight. Two, Static was off chasing down what the Irish used to call "noises in the fog, signifying nothing". That meant the only thing between injured Richie and whoever was hunting him was Backpack. Now, he's a genius piece of electronics, and he's pretty intelligent in his own right, but there's no way he can stand against most of the Bang Babies that might show up here. And what if it isn't Bang Babies but those lunatics from the meeting hall? Oh, that would just be perfect. If only Backpack hadn't stuck me in here, I could-
….
Was that a sound?
…ear….all…
Gear pressed his ear to the wall.
…way…wall…Gear…
Definitely Richie's voice. But what was he trying to say?
…swer…ear, answer….
That last bit was easy enough to understand. "I hear you, Richie! What do you want me to do?"
….ack away…wall…
Ack away wall. Back away? Back away from the wall? Gear leapt back and shielded himself as best he could. "Do it, Richie!"
There was silence for a moment, long enough for Gear to wonder if he'd been heard. Then the wall he'd been pressed against just a moment ago exploded inward. Gear was crouched to protect the softest parts of himself, but the explosion knocked him to the floor. Groaning, Gear sat up and peered through the dust. We're in Richie's mind, but I sear it feels like this is the real world.
Richie appeared out of the dust. He looked shaken but triumphant, and the hand he held out to Gear was steady. Gear took it. The moment they touched, each knew something of what the other had endured, and both gasped from the knowledge. They spoke at the same time.
"Backpack wouldn't do this on purose-"
"-Static out there when he should be here?"
They stopped, and Richie laughed while Gear cracked a rueful smile and waved for Richie to speak first.
"Backpack's totally innocent," Richie began again. "He's only trying to protect us. I don't know how the wall was created, but it wasn't Backpack's fault."
"He's the only one who's been in your mind besides me," Gear countered. "And I sure as hell didn't create it. And what about the fuzziness of your memories?"
"I don't know," Richie answered, "but there are more important things right now. I'll lend you my strength if you lend me your battle strategies. We're under attack, or will be soon."
"I know." Gear frowned. "Why did Static leave you? He should be protecting you instead of-"
"He's going to try to intercept them."
"You don't believe that completely," Gear said.
"No… Virg doesn't completely believe in my powers of intuition right now. He thinks I'm still under Brainiac's shadow."
"Idiot boy," Gear said, but not without affection.
Richie smiled. "Come on; let's get back to the real world. I held off Backpack to come find you. He's probably really worried."
"Then you do suspect him!" Gear exclaimed.
"No; I was trying to center and he kept distracting me. Now come on!" Richie seized Gear's wrist and began to force his way towards a fully-conscious state.
oOo
I'll get one last chance to try and explain things to Richie before they take him away. He needs to understand two things: first, I'm doing this for his own good and second, he can't see how poisoned he's become. He needs someone to lead him back to the straight and narrow path. Without help, he's in real danger of Hell. He needs someone to look after him. And since that someone can't be me, I'd rather it be someone who can at least be trusted with his soul… if not his body. I could have strangled them for hurting him like that. He isn't the enemy; he was just a victim. Why did they have to almost kill him? It's a good thing I showed up when I did… Not that I could do much good. Richie was taken by that nsuperhero, and I couldn't' stop him. At least he brought Richie here… but God only knows how much he tormented Richie before bringing him here. Bile rose in the back of Sean Foley's mouth. He probably raped Richie, or let his "friends" play with my son. I wouldn't put it past a stupid ape like him. I'll bet he said something like, "You have to pay me for saving you. And there's only one payment I'll take…" Sean Foley fumed. Well, when I catch him, he'll be one dead n. I'll hang him next to that Hawkins boy, both of them nailed up by their balls.
He stopped walking, realizing that he was breathing heavily.
"Brother Sean, what's wrong?" The chief elder himself had come with them, apparently seeing how desperately his influence and power to command was needed.
"I was just imagining what I'll do to that nson of a bitch when I catch him. Knowing his kind, he probably raped my son after taking him from the Meeting Place."
"Well, God works in mysterious ways, my brother." The chief elder put his hand on Sean's shoulder. "Perhaps, if young Richard was raped, he will finally understand the filth that runs in the veins of the ns in place of blood."
Strange, Sean thought, but I don't even know his name. I wonder if anyone does. He smiled. "You're probably right. It doesn't stop me from being angry, though."
"Righteous anger is a blessing, my son. Never see it as anything less than that."
"If that's true, then I'm the most blessed man here."
The two men looked up, startled. Static was hovering near the ceiling, glaring at them. Energy crackled around him on every side. "And if I'm blessed, you're cursed," Static continued. "So, you have two choices: either leave now, or I'm going to stain those nice, white sheets you're all wearing."
Sean thought of the others of their community sneaking up the other stairs and wished he'd gone with them. They wouldn't stop to take Richie to see his father; they would convey him as quickly as possible out of Dakota to a save refuge. I guess I'll have to hope that he'll forgive me when he gets out. Or I can always write him a letter.
The chief elder drew his small pistol. "Now, boy, if you-"
The pistol flew out of his hand, attaching itself magically to the ceiling. "I hate guns," Static snarled, starting to float slowly towards them. "The next one who pulls a gun will get his balls fried." He smiled. "I'm in no mood for chitchat. Put your hands in the air or I'll fry you anyway."
Sean wished they had brought more than just five men into the hospital proper. True, we drew less attention, but this flying faggot can get us both at once. Now I really wish I'd gone with the others.
oOo
Richie opened his eyes and saw Backpack watching the window intently. BP?
The robot turned, and Richie could almost see the pain he'd caused. He could certainly feel it, but Backpack was trying to hide it. Are you well, Richie?
BP, I'm so sorry. I just needed to get Gear. I couldn't find him and talk to you at the same time. And time was of the essence. Richie reached out and touched Backpack with gentle fingers. I love you, Backpack; please don't ever think that I would block you unless I thought I had no choice. I'm sorry I hurt you. Please don't be angry with me.
Backpack was silent for a moment, then he crawled to Richie's side and touched his boy's face with one "arm". I'm not angry, Richie. I was more worried than anything. Are you well now? Is Gear with you?
Yes… and I can tell you don't trust him, but please remember that he is part of me. If you trust me, you need to trust Gear, too.
He isn't you, at least not completely. Gear has his own thoughts, feelings, prejudices…
Yes, I do, but you'll just have to put up with me. Richie's sure you didn't put that wall there, so I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Do me the same courtesy.
Gear's tone changed from severe to gentle. BP, please listen to me. You can't fight the world off alone. Richie has other friends who will fight to the death for him. Rely on them, too. If you don't, you might overlook Richie's safety in favor of what you're comfortable with. I'm guilty of the same thing, of wanting to take on the world alone, but it can't be done if you plan on surviving and remaining sane.
There was silence for a moment, then Backpack answered, I want to do what is right by Richie. Another pause. And by you.
Uh, guys, this is a great heart-to-heart, but we have more pressing matters. Static's gone, so we're all we have for defense right now. Richie smiled a little as both presences in his mind jumped a little in surprise and were assailed with embarrassment.
Okay, Richie said, his smile falling away as if it had never been, now that I have your attention… how do we get ready for what we don't know?
oOo
Talon flew past the windows on the third floor with Hotstreak in her arms. Hotstreak could have just pushed himself up into the air with flames, but neither of them wanted to attract that kind of attention. Yeah, well, Talon thought, I'm not sure how much longer I can carry him. He's almost fifty pounds heavier than me. There aren't any numbers on the windows! Who's bright idea was it to figure out what room the kid was in and then fly up to his window? She groaned. Oh yeah, that's right; it was mine.
"Stop!" Hotstreak hissed.
Talon had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that his voice startled her. She almost dropped him.
"Jeez, watch it!"
"Quit complaining. You just scared me."
Hotstreak shrugged it off and pointed at a window. "There they are. Let's get this over with."
Talon flew closer. "Getting cold feet, Hotstreak?"
Hotstreak grumbled something, then said out loud, "Let's just figure this out for sure. I want to know if we're chasing a stupid wild goose."
Talon hovered in front of the window. Foley was no longer immediately visible, but he couldn't have gotten too far. Talon screeched, using her sound waves to shatter the glass of the window. She flew in and deposited Hotstreak on his feet.
That was when the bucket of water hit Hotstreak right in the face.
oOo
Backpack sensed the meta-humans coming, but at first he wasn't able to get a fix on them. Have I been damaged in some way?
Doubtful. Gear's voice was flat. But we don't have time to worry. Let's use our heads. Where come they be coming from?
Someone was shouting on the floor below us, Richie put in.
That was at least ten minutes ago, Backpack answered.
Are you saying we're being stalked by two enemies? Gear asked.
Maybe… but I can't be relied upon with my-
Let's assume the worst, said Richie. We need to be somewhere safe from immediate attack by anyone coming through the door or the window. And we need to be armed. Backpack, what have you got?
Plenty for normal humans, but not much for meta-humans. There was more than a touch of Gear's coldness in Backpack's voice.
You can make a burst of light if it's Ebon, one big enough help us run a little, anyway, Gear said. And if it's Hotstreak, we can use water. The bathroom would be a good place to hide in any case because its interior can't be immeidatley be seen by anyone at the window or door.
But it would be really easy to get trapped there, Richie said.
Not if I take off the light fixture and remove a ceiling tile or two, Backpack answered.
Richie frowned. I hate being in a corner, but it's our best shot. Let's go.
Wait, said Gear. I have a better idea. Let's get the water first. See that bucket? It's for dirty laundry.
I won't be able to lift that quickly, let alone tip it! Richie cried.
I'll help, Backpack said.
A minute later, the floor of the bathroom was covered with soiled clothes and sheets. Richie filled the bucket using a hose Backpack provided ("I can't believe I put that in there!" Richie laughed as they worked) and the robot helped him move it behind the curtain that separated one half of the room from the other. Currently, Richie didn't have a roommate, a fact that eased his mind. No innocent bystanders would be hurt if Richie/Gear/Backpack could help it.
Once they were in position, all they had to do was wait. Granted, hiding behind the curtain might have left them vulnerable, but, thanks to the bed, they had ample cover.
oOo
In a waning effort to control his fury, Static smiled. "You're in the wrong place, and it's the wrong time. The trick-or-treating doesn't start in Dakota Square for another four months. Why don't you go back home and practice scaring each other in your ghost costumes? Then you'll be ready for the main event." Energy began to flow over him once more, emerging from his fingertips as tiny sparks. "Or I can make you real ghosts if you want. It's really no trouble-"
"Please," Mr. Foley whispered. He pulled off his hood even as the chief elder snapped at him not to speak. "All I want is what's best for my son. He has been soiled an I wish only to purify him-"
"And with fire shall I purify my people," Static answered in a fell voice. He formed a ball of energy in his hands. "Catch this, Foley: Richie will never go home with you. He will never be hurt again. I will see to that." He shot the energy ball at the two robed men.
Both of them dove aside. Static's energy followed Mr. Foley.
His Shock Vox crackled to life.
"…Richie… help…"
It wasn't Richie's voice, and for a moment Static stopped, unsure. But then he placed the voice, and his eyes widened. Backpack was trying to contact him again, and without even the voice-enhancer? How could he speak? Static shook his head. Didn't matter. Richie needed him.
Static shot two bolts of energy, catching Mr. Foley and the chief elder. He stuck them to the ceiling. "I'll be back for target practice later," he told them before he leapt onto his saucer and flew to the stairwell.
oOo
When the window-glass shattered inward, Gear muttered in Richie's mind, Wait for it… He watched Hotstreak jump into the room. Now!
Backpack and Richie lifted the bucket, hitting the Bang Baby with a solid wall of water.
Hotstreak shouted, stumbled, and staggered back into Talon, who was just coming through the window. Talon gave a surprised squawk and tumbled out of the window.
Too bad she can fly, Gear thought.
Not now, Richie snapped. He was on his feet and backing towards the door, the nowempty bucket still in his hands. He was watching a coughing, spluttering Hotstreak, who was bent double with his arms around his middle as if he'd been punched in the stomach.
Hotstreak straightened, and Richie hurled the bucket into his face. Richie grunted in pain at the sudden movement, but he didn't regret it in the least as Hotstreak sat down abruptly, his eyes open but blind.
Richie reached back and felt the doorknob. He pulled it open and turned, ready to run. Except his escape route was blocked by two towering white-robed figures. Richie gave a cry of despair, and tried to slam the door. Better Hotstreak than the K. Far better.
The two men muscled their way into the room, forcing Richie backwards. Richie staggered two steps, then caught himself. Backpack had put himself between Richie and the men.
"You're coming with us, Richard. It's for your own good." The man who had spoken removed his hood. Richie knew him at once. It was Angela's father. The man was fat, but strong. Richie groaned and took another step back.
Wait, watch out for-
Gear's warning came too late as muscular arms encircled Richie's chest from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. "Hold up, little buddy," whispered Hotstreak. "It's just me."
The two robed figures stopped. Then one of them spat on the floor at Richie's feet. "Not only are you sleeping with a n, but you're cheating on him, too? What, one sin's not enough?"
"Try five or six sins," the other one said. "I think your ticket to Hell has been bought and paid for, whore."
Hotstreak drew Richie closer with one arm. He extended his right hand, cradling a flame. "If I were you'd I'd get out. I've burned a hundred people alive. Two more will only build up my street cred."
As one, the men backed away a few steps.
Hotstreak bounced the flame on his hand. "Let's play fire in the hole."
The men bolted.
Hotstreak grinned and blew the fire out.
Backpack moved towards Hotstreak, beeping indignantly.
Easy, Backpack! ordered Gear. He holds the cards right now-
-and Hotstreak just saved me, even though I'm afraid of what he might do next, Richie added.
As if he were reading Richie's mind, Hotstreak said, "If you promise not to run away, I'll let you go. I just want to talk to you."
Richie, hardly believing his luck, answered, "I won't run. They're still out there somewhere."
Hotstreak let him go and Richie turned to face the other Bang Baby, taking a single step backwards. Backpack came up to Richie, touching his leg gently. Richie glanced at him and smiled. Then he met Hotstreak's gaze, waiting.
"You're dating a black teenager," Hotstreak said. "Is it Virgil?"
Richie hesitated. "Why do you want to know?"
"Let's say it's my reward for saving you. Are you dating Virgil Hawkins?"
"Is that the only reward you want?"
Hotstreak nodded. "Yup. It's the only question I have."
Richie nodded. "All right, then; yes, I'm dating Virgil."
"And you're Gear."
"You said you wouldn't ask-"
"I'm not asking. I know." Hotstreak laughed. "I can't believe little geeky Richie Foley is Static Shock's partner." He grinned. "That probably means that Virgil is Static, but I'm not going to ask. I'll figure it out on my own."
Richie sighed. "Now you're going to want something from me in exchange for not telling my secret."
Hotstreak's grin broadened. "You really are a genius." He took a step towards Richie, and the light in his eyes frightened the blond teen, though he refused to show it. "I want you to keep your mouth shut about how I saved you. I have a reputation to maintain. If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours."
"But what about Ebon? He'll want to know this, I'm sure."
"I don't answer to Ebon or to anyone else." Hotstreak took another step closer to Richie. "And you need to understand something, genius. I can overcome any damage you do to my name, with time and effort. You'd never even get the chance to convince Ebon you aren't Gear. Unlike his attempt with Virgil, he isn't going to truly care if you're Gear or not." Hotstreak leered. "Ebon has a side to him that you probably wouldn't want to see. He's attracted to delicate blonds." Hotstreak laughed at Richie's involuntary gasp. "In fact, he's been watching Gear for some time now. And he hasn't minded touching you a few times either. You probably didn't know how much he was enjoying himself when he kidnapped you that time, did you?"
Gear asserted himself because Richie was suddenly reminded fiercely of Brainiac. "The only person who will know about this is Virgil. I wouldn't want to ruin your sensitive rep." He took a step forward of his own; the two of them now stood nose to nose, and Hotstreak looked more than a little surprised at the blonde's audacity. "And even by some chance you tell Ebon, know this: I'm ready for him."
The two glared at each other for a moment, then Backpack's soft beeping drew their attention.
"Static's coming," Gear said. "I suggest you make yourself scarce." He smiled. "Or the bargain's off and I'll take my chances with Ebon."
Hotstreak hesitated, then spun on his heel. "Watch your mouth, Foley; it'll get you into trouble some day." He leapt out the window and was gone.
Now what? Richie asked, glancing around. He felt unsteady and a little confused.
Now you lay down and we all go to sleep, Gear answered.
When Static arrived in the room a minute later, he found Richie, fully dressed, asleep on his bed without even a single sheet to cover him.
-
oOo
Please let me know if I should make two stories or keep going with this one. I'm at a loss.
minijudi: Hotstreak is a confusing character, isn't he? I'm really enjoying writing about him. I'm also enjoying the strange Gear/Richie interplay.
Dimitri A.: Don't worry about not reviewing- I forget a lot of times. g I loved writing that Lord of the Rings quote. You're the first person to mention that Backpack is also walking a fine line. I'm still not exactly sure what's up with him, though things are making a little more sense now.
BH: I'm glad you're having fun with this. Poor Richie… and even with this chapter, it's not done yet. Plus, there's a surprise ending, but I'm hoping everybody will help me figure out if I should keep it within the same story or not.
leev: evil grin… I'm glad I startled somebody with that Brainiac as Mr. Foley thing. It kind of creeped me out, too, even though I knew it was a dream.
yoarashi: Thank you for reviewing.
