Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock, ATB, or any of their respective affiliates.

Changing Too Hard

Richie wiped his damp palms on his jeans and took a deep breath. He could hear the shower in the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude running in the other room, and the dryer had just buzzed. Their street clothes were done. He popped the door open and slipped the note into the front left pocket, covertly shoving the jeans back into the machine. Hopefully Virgil wouldn't notice it until later. The shower shut off and the blonde steeled himself, knowing Virgil would walk right in front of him with nothing but a towel on. It was strange how often his mind drifted to the carnal pleasures, even though he knew it had everything to do with his adolescent age.

The mocha teen flashed a brilliant smile and walked over to the boom box to turn it on to Lil' Romeo's latest hit, but before his finger could touch the switch, Backpack lit up. Static and Gear had just finished a four-hour chase with Aqua Maria and were looking forward to some quality pizza time. Both boys groaned and began to put on their 'hero threads' as Virgil had once called their uniforms. In a matter of minutes, they were off, the bionic intelligence on Gear's back leading the way. Fortunately, it was only a small gang of regular, human thieves rifling through the latest tech shipment from Metropolis. The sky was beginning to darken with an afternoon storm, so Gear hoped this wouldn't take them too long.

Just like they had a thousand times before, Static and Gear dominated the bad guys, their unimportant motives, crimes and even names quickly forgotten among the sea of criminals they had already captured. With his usual flair, Static tied off the electric charge holding the men to the side of the ship by their metal buckles and buttons, once again flashing his trademark smile to his partner. Gear returned the thumbs-up and finally gave up searching for the zap cap he'd dropped, igniting his rocket skates to follow his friend out of the dock house.

That was what Gear loved the most, working in tandem with Static. At first, they had been merely friends in high school, but after the Big Bang, the relationship had moved from close acquaintances to partners in adventure. As the months rolled by, and Gear's bang power became apparent, the partnership again changed from working well together to almost unnaturally tight. They had spent so much time together and faced so much adversity that they barely had to speak anymore. They simply watched each other's movements and facial expressions, making a nearly undefeatable pair.

Just before junior year in high school ended, Richie had begun to feel a strangely intense loneliness when he was not around his best friend, missing stupid things like the way his hair seemed to fall into place without any effort and the fierce glow in his eyes when he was using his powers. That summer, the two boys talked their parents into letting them go on a weekend camping trip, completely free of contact with any other souls. It was on one of those freezing nights, when both were soaked to the bone from the rain and laughingly jumping at the forest sounds, that Richie had asked what being in love was like, nervously hoping he didn't already know the answer himself.

Virgil had answered as best he could, but had himself never been in love, so gave all the regular clichés the blonde already knew. The way nothing else mattered around the person, how much the person's presence is missed, noticing small details about them and that sort of thing. Richie had given a fake laugh and buried his suddenly clear feelings, which were exactly as his friend had described, and never spoken of it again. He was confused that he could feel like that when he had no romantic interests. What got to him more was that his thoughts were not on girls, though he still had nudie magazines stashed under his mattress like every normal boy. Weeks passed and the feelings didn't die down, so he decided that he had to at least clear his heart, having no idea what would happen and praying their tight friendship wouldn't be shattered.

That was before. Just being in Virgil's presence was becoming more of a rarity these days. Each time Richie mustered up enough courage to tell his friend how he felt, Virgil split, saying he couldn't hang out for one reason or another. Eventually, he wrote down what he couldn't bring himself to vocalize face-to-face in the hope that he could just leave it for his friend and not have to see the reaction. It had been two weeks since he'd written the note, and Virgil finally had it. He would find it in his pocket and everything would be laid out on the table. Even though the adrenalin of the dock capture was over, he felt a flash of nervousness as he thought about what he had written. As Gear's weight settled into the rockets, he rocked forward, leaning into the familiar flight pattern. They wanted to get home before the summer afternoon showers rolled in.

Just as he was about the clear the roof, light glinted off the zap cap hidden behind a pile broken crates and he dived for it. "Don't worry bro, I'll catch up!" he called to the young black man hovering overhead. After retrieving the device, he followed Backpack's directions and came upon Static standing too close to Daisy. Gear landed on a nearby rooftop to quiet his skates and stared in surprise as he leaned in and kissed her. While his heart twinged at the sight, he had known for a long time that his mysterious feelings were one-sided.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, Gear, the one person who knew Static's real identity, who had suffered great injuries and victories with him, the one who had come to love him as more than a best friend over the last few years, couldn't force his eyes away as Static pulled off his mask while still talking to her. That was the most intimate thing he could have done, sharing every side of himself with her, something he had only revealed to Richie before. Instead of a twinge, this time his heart crashed into the pit of his stomach.

Gear backed away from the sight, too shocked to do anything except lean heavily against the wall he stopped against, stunned expression still on his fair face. Why did that hurt so much? Was what all the poems said about unrequited love actually true? The young super genius stared wide-eyed at his feet on the graveled rooftop, his mind racing to explain the fire in his chest. He had designed a self-sustaining fusion system that could power the entire United States on a teaspoon of water, but was completely at a loss for the storm of feelings rushing through him.

He stayed on that roof until the sky clouded over for the regular thunderstorm, finally moving only when the rain began to pour in buckets. He climbed down numbly, staring but not really focusing on anything. He began to walk in a random direction slowly, completely blank to the world. Gear, the smartest man on earth, was, for the first time, numb. Backpack closed its vents in an effort to keep the water out while it ran an analysis program to figure out why its creator had not sought shelter as predicted. Gear just kept walking in the downpour.

On the other side of town, Virgil had just finished picking up his room, cleaning up the kind of mess only couples made, and didn't want to listen to any more ribbing from his sister today. He was alone and just wanted a little peace and quiet after a long day. When he finished, he plopped onto the bed, vaguely wondering why Gear hadn't called him. He became restless and began looking through some of the CDs his best friend had left at his house. The ATB No Silence album had an interesting cover so he threw it in the player and plugged in his headphones.

A rhythmic beat started, followed by electronic accompaniment and a heavy base line. Virgil raised his eyebrows, he had no idea his friend was into techno. As the tracks blended seamlessly into one another, he came upon a slower one with a style that he immediately liked. He turned it up and listened carefully to the words, rocking his head slightly with the beat.

I woke under the cover of darkness

Looked up into the television sky

Tonight

I wandered through the city alone this

Rain wouldn't stop I couldn't dry my eyes

I cried

Gear had not stopped walking, even though dusk had fallen and the night air was chilling with the constant rain. His 200 plus IQ was buzzing with thoughts coming and going so fast that he could barely keep up with them. All this time, he'd had the opportunity to tell his best friend that he had feelings for him and he hadn't. No, it was more than that. He didn't just have feelings for him, he…he loved him, and now he knew for sure it was too late to tell him. Why had he kept all his emotions bottled up for so long? Why hadn't he said something sooner? Why hadn't he said something at all? Why?

Before he knew it he was running, trying to get away from the truth that he was a coward, fleeing the fact that his heart had just broken on that rooftop and that he could never tell Virgil. Backpack displayed worried inquiries as to its maker's health on Gear's faceplate, noting an increased internal temperature, heightened adrenaline and erratic breathing. Gear barely registered it before he ripped off his helmet, not caring who saw, legs pumping as fast as they could. His slightly heavier sneakers caught on something and he went down hard on the wet pavement.

Richie didn't bother to get up, only knelt where he had fallen and looked up into the wet sky with pale blue eyes. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked across the sky. "How could he do this to me?" he screamed at the top of his lungs, the rain mixing with the tears on his face. "HOW?"

Who is the one to blame

Why is that you never say

when the feeling leaves

if you're through with me

As I'm walking through the rain

Cold tears falling down my face

like the autumn leaves

on a windy day

Richie wept on that sidewalk, not caring that he was soaked and exposed. As much as he wanted to feel righteous betrayal, he knew that it was no one's fault but his own that Virgil didn't know how he felt. He was a coward, and he knew it. All his days spent joking with his V-Man or spending time at his house were just a cover, an excuse to spend time with him. How many times had he thought about saying something, but had backed out at the last second, worried that his confession would kill their friendship or that Virgil would be repulsed by his best friend? Would he be able to ever face him again?

In an attempt to calm down, Richie opened his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Looking straight down, he saw what he had tripped on, a tied bundle of newspapers with a picture of Static on the front page. Just seeing that smiling face so full of life and joy broke the blonde's heart again, and he clenched his eyes shut to block out the painful image.

I went out to the edge of town

Over bright highways where traffic was the only sound

Around

While my eyes were looking at the ground

I could see pictures of you floating all around

I didn't doubt

Richie was painfully aware he was a coward, and this day had just served as the most blatant example. He had always been one, and would always be one, it was so ingrained in him that he knew he couldn't change. His father had always told him that, hitting him to try to make him stronger. He was so weak that after he had been released from Brainiac's control, he had silently cried alone in his room, trying to clear the nightmare images from his head. His capture by the nanite scientist had left him only a little creeped out, but he was too weak to be angry at being shot by his schoolmate.

He figured there must be something wrong with him to draw that much injury and misery. He was simply the weaker of the heroic pair, so the bad guys always kidnapped or hurt him to get to Static. If he was a little smarter, or faster maybe…he could have been the one to protect his friend, instead of the other way around. Maybe, if he wasn't such a failure, Virgil would have liked him more…

Who is the one to blame

Why is that you never say

when the feeling leaves

if you're through with me

As I'm walking through the rain

Cold tears falling down my face

like the autumn leaves

on a windy day

Virgil leaned back on the pillow and shoved his hands into his pockets, really feeling the song. His brow furrowed when his fingers brushed over a piece of paper there, and he unfolded it. Immediately, he recognized his best friend's handwriting.

V-

Never in my life have I ever done anything so difficult as telling you what I am now. My bang power, my father's stupidity, my brushes with our enemies, being shot or controlled by an alien computer – nothing has kept me up at night more. I've tried to change it, ignore it, even deny it, but I simply can't do it anymore; it's becoming more than I can bear. As far as I can tell, it's only me, so I hope after you read this, you will forgive me. You have been the best friend anyone could hope for.

I'm in love with you.

R

Virgil bolted upright, staring at the paper in his hands. He would think it was a joke, except that Richie never wrote anything by hand anymore, unless it was important. His mind began to race as he connected the note to all the strange behavior he had noticed lately. Like he would catch Richie staring at him when he didn't have his coat on, his blush whenever they would wrestle and how comfortable he seemed sleeping against him on the couch. As all the pieces fell into place, Virgil couldn't get dressed fast enough. He had to find his friend, and now.

Across town, Richie had started to walk with heavy steps. He couldn't quite pinpoint where he was, but that was unimportant. Backpack had resorted to beeping since Gear's visual display was in a gutter somewhere. Richie dropped heavily to his knees and spoke so softly only an electronic ear could hear him, "Down, Backpack, go home." The small machine crawled off its creator, leaving a new spot for the rain to soak. Richie shivered as a chill set in and continued to walk, hoping he was going away from his house, Virgil's house, the Community Center, the high school and everything he was painfully familiar with. Even though he noticed the group of boys he was walking past, he didn't make any reaction.

Unfortunately, the boys weren't just seeking shelter from the downpour under an awning. As one, they surrounded the blonde and pushed him to the ground, snickering. "Those are some nice clothes," one teased. "Whatcha doin' in this 'hood? Never seen you here before."

"Nothing. I don't have anything…leave me alone," Richie responded without vehemence, getting up slowly.

The leader spoke up, standing very close, "Yeah? Well, I think I seen you before. You're that Gear guy, aren't you?"

Sensing the situation going bad quickly, Richie tried to back away, only to be stopped by two of them. He heard a familiar click and saw a flash of metal, dread filling him. Before he had a chance to react, the leader stepped close and sank the blade of a large pocket knife into his abdomen. A strange strength came to him as Richie shoved the leader off, who pulled the blade out with him. "Backpack!" the blonde cried as he pulled two zap-caps from his belt and let fly.

One set of metal tentacles trapped the leader and the other snagged two lackeys together. The three of them fell face first into the wet gutter and laid there, unable to move or speak under the crushing pressure meant for metahuman resistance. Richie's adrenaline wore off a bit and he looked down, almost surprised to see the dark red cascade against the light green of his uniform. The pain washed over him in a wave, forcing him to his knees as the rest of the street gang ran for their lives.

Backpack rounded the corner at that moment, and in a matter of seconds, it had calculated the best way to summon help. It crawled up the nearest dirty brick wall to the roof where it began to broadcast on a special frequency that would act as a homing beacon. The one who could help its master would surely be along soon. In the alley below, Richie fell on his back, too weak to stay upright anymore. The rain poured down relentlessly, drenching everything.

As Static flew along, he maintained a bubble around himself to keep the shorting rain off him. The last thing he needed right now was to fall out of the sky. A heavy worry was pressing down on him, he needed to find his friend and soon. Through the protective bubble, he heard a distinctive beeping. It got a little louder the further south he traveled, and he soon came to recognize it as Backpack. "Alright Rich, lead me right to you," he said to himself as he sped up a bit. When he was right on top of the sound, he looked down for the little speck of silver that always helped him locate Gear. He saw it on the rooftop, but then his vision drifted down to the alley.

Richie lay there in a diluted puddle of blood, gritting his teeth against the pain and holding a hand to his stomach. Static practically fell to the ground beside him, expanding the bubble to protect them both. "Richie! What happened!" was all he could choke out as he gently lifted his friend's hand and examined the wound. It was deep and nearly black blood was spilling out.

"Hey, V…sorry I…ungh." The pale teen coughed and a small trickle of blood slipped from the corner of his mouth. "I got 'em," he smiled faintly, referring to the gang members bound in the street.

"Yeah, you did. Nice work, bro," Static pulled off his mask, all humor gone from his dark features. Sirens began to sound distantly, Backpack had called emergency services as soon as it knew Static was in range. The African-American boy looked over his pale counterpart. "All this time, you…"

Richie looked into his best friend's brown eyes, "S-sorry bro, I c-couldn't help it."

Virgil was at a complete loss for words. The person he was closest to in the world had confessed his love and he was not repulsed by it. In fact, the note had been a huge relief, the girls he had been dating had stopped meaning anything. Daisy had walked in on him one day while he had half his Static costume on, but had never said a word about it. They had agreed to use one another for "stress relief" once in a while, but it had never gone further than that.

What must it have been like for Richie, thinking he was not cared for in return? All alone when it could have been different? Virgil thought about all the times they had hung out and watched B movies and Richie had seemed so relaxed, yet so tense at the same time. The blonde always had a smile for him and never seemed to be weighed down by the atrocities they had seen in their escapades. Such an innocent and brilliant mind, finding a pure love but denying it for so long. What had Virgil's thick-headedness cost them?

Richie shivered from both pain and cold, and coughed again. More blood came up and Virgil began to panic because he could feel the warmth of his best friend's blood around his knees even though it was mixed with the icy rainwater. He gathered the pale teen into his arms and placed his hand firmly over the laceration in an attempt to stop the blood flow. Richie merely shook his head slightly, his vast intelligence telling him that no ambulance could get there fast enough. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to deny the truth.

Richie took a deep breath and looked up at his friend with crystal clear blue eyes, and stopped shivering. Virgil refused to accept what was happening but something made him blurt out the truth, "I love you too, Rich." The teen in his arms smiled brilliantly and closed his eyes, breath leaving him for the last time. Virgil shook his head vehemently, pulling his soul brother close and burying his head in the pale shoulder. "Don't go…" he whispered once and crushed the other boy to him. The bubble protecting them disappeared and Virgil shorted out, not noticing the usually painful event.

He knelt there in the rain clutching Richie's body, trying to digest all that had happened in the span of one afternoon. Everything had been fine, but now his brother was dead and he had no idea where to go from there. Tears began to fall, crackling with electricity. A glow formed around both boys, faint at first, but gradually growing stronger. Virgil trembled with the effort of containing his sorrow, and soon, he was surrounded in a field so strong, the streetlights nearby burst. The street punks still wrapped in Richie's zap caps whimpered as the metal began to burn, but that only vindicated Virgil's anger toward them. The black teen's sorrow flared so powerfully that the power on the block went out, leaving them in darkness.

When Virgil shorted again, he was left weeping on his friend's cold shoulder, repeating the same thing over and over, "It didn't have to be this way, it didn't have to be this way…"

The End