Forest for the Trees
Static Shock fanfiction a-go-go
Sometimes, you can't see the forest for the trees. At least, not until it's become part of a slash-and-burn outfit. A fact that Richie and Virgil are about to learn the hardest way possible.
The bulk of this story is set during the end of their senior year of highschool. There are, of course, some interludes and flashback sequences because...well, I like them. If it takes place out of the present, I'll let you all know, I promise.
Overall I'd give this a TV14-TVMA rating. (HA! The MPAA won't let me use their system, then fine I'll just move on to the FCC's for television. Next up, videogames.) There's cursing, confusion, jealousy, betrayal, dancing, sex, lies, videotape, and Hawaiian pizzas. Oh, and of course my OTP of interracial dorky gay...Ebon/Hotstreak. I am just kidding. But if you don't like slash, maybe you should read something else?
Time/Warner, DC/Milestone, Dwayne McDuffie, and many other people with lawyers own lots of people in this. I am clearly not anywhere on that list.
Prologue: Junior Year of High School, sometime around Spring Break
"I don't get it."
"Hm?"
"I said I don't get it."
"Get what?"
"How the hell you can eat that!" Richie Foley pointed to his friend's sardine on wheat sandwich with a disgusted look on his face. "Dude what are you, like, pregnant or something?"
"What are you talking about? It's good!" Virgil smiled as he munched happily. "Mmmmmm," he said as he pushed the sandwich into Richie's face.
"Uh, okay." Richie looked horrified as he pushed the plate away. "Freak."
Virgil just rolled his eyes. "This from the man who eats pineapple on his pizza."
"Oh don't even. You can't even compare the sheer glory of my Hawaiian pizzas to that foul, fish-covered creation you are currently ingesting. That's apples and cats, bro."
Virgil swallowed and raised an eyebrow. "Apples and cats?"
"Yeah. Like apples and oranges, only…more so. Even more of a 'there's no comparison' thing." Richie often felt he was wise beyond his years.
"And you are calling moi a freak." The other boy shook his head, as he often felt Richie was full of shit. "Freak."
"Psht, whatever." The remote was grabbed and the television turned on. "So what's it gonna be? Versus or House of Flying Daggers?"
"House. We've already seen Versus like 70,000 times." He picked up a sardine that had escaped the sandwich, and leaning his head back, swallowed it slowly. "Besides, then we get the added bonus of the hotness that is Zhang Ziyi," Virgil added as he sucked the juice off his fingers.
Suddenly uncomfortable watching his friend, Richie concentrated on cleaning his glasses. He shrugged and said "Eh. She's all right, I guess."
"All right? Dude, what are you talking about? She's gorgeous and could kick both of our asses faster than you can say 'Zap Cap.' What's not to love?"
"She's just…not my type, is all."
"Yeah, but do you even have one…a type, I mean." Virgil was thoughtful, the movie all but forgotten. "'Cause Frieda wasn't your type, Daisy wasn't your type, Nina wasn't your type, Jenny wasn't your type, and now Zhang Ziyi isn't your type."
"…What's your point?"
"I'm just saying that either you're really picky or… Oh! Wait, you're into someone and have been holding out! That's it, isn't it?"
Richie closed his eyes for a moment. "Even if I was, they still wouldn't be my type, V."
"Well, what is your type then?" Now the curiosity had really kicked in. Crap. "Is it the Tyra Banks type? The Scarlett Johansson type? The Lindsay Lohan type?"
Richie sighed. What the hell? This conversation was apparently determined to happen tonight, so why fight it?
After all, the worst Virgil could do was…never speak to him again.
He hunched his shoulders. "The…um…Hugh Jackman type."
"Oh, word. He was pretty badass as Wolverine wasn't…" Virgil's voice trailed off.
Oh.
"Um…oh."
"Yeah. Oh." Richie was biting his nails, as if he was bracing himself against some type of fallout.
"Rich…" Virgil stared at his best friend, who suddenly reminded him of a scared little boy. This must have been chewing him up inside for a while, because he was terrified. Which Virgil naturally could not stand for. "Man, it's okay. Really."
"It…is?" Richie looked at him in disbelief.
"Yeah. There's nothing wrong with being gay." Virgil put a hand on Richie's shoulder. "You're my best friend. That's all that counts."
"Yeah, well…" Richie cleared his throat a few times, then smiled and in a soft voice said "Thanks, V."
"No problemo." Virgil smiled brightly back. "'Sides, it's not like you wanna date me or something."
The smile suddenly felt frozen on Richie's face. "What?"
"Well because you know, that's like me wanting to make out with Sharon." He shuddered at the mere thought. "You know, it'd be all weird and whatnot. I'm your best friend, not the man you wanna sleep with, you know?"
Far more amazing than his electro-magnetic powers was Virgil's ability to make completely broad comments that somehow managed to both miss the point and answer unasked questions at the same time. An ability that, under normal circumstances, got somewhat irritating for the people that knew him.
In this particular situation, Richie honestly couldn't decide if he was in anguish or just pissed off. He decided that being a bit of both wasn't out of line, and noticed that his hands had unconsciously balled into fists. Well, that answers that, then, doesn't it, he thought bitterly.
"You know, I'm not feeling so hot all of a sudden." He stood up, grabbing his bag. "I think I better go."
"But, the movie…" Virgil was confused. "Hey, are you okay?"
"Just a headache," Richie lied, ignoring the pain that started in his chest and spread throughout him. "Think I'll go home and get some rest for once."
"Um, sure. I'll walk you out."
"I'm cool, Virg. I'll see you later." Richie shut the door harder than he would have normally, leaving behind a very perplexed Virgil wondering what had just happened.
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Once he had turned the corner, Richie had run the whole way back to his house and all the way up the stairs to his bedroom. He closed and locked the door behind him and lay flat on his back on the bed.
Damn it. Just…God damn it.
Okay, yeah he had pretty much always known that he was gay or whatever. And yeah, he and Virgil were a lot like brothers in a lot of ways, even though he'd been aware since just before the Bang that he had more than just friendly feelings for Virgil.
And yeah, when he saw Ragtag trying to suck Virgil's life essence dry, maybe he had realized that he was in deep shit love with his best friend.
Yeah, and maybe part of him had always been afraid to admit all of that because having Virgil as a friend…it was so much better than having nothing at all. It was just better to keep quiet. Easier.
But, there was that part, that stupid, stupid part that had always…hoped. So, maybe he had thought that Virgil maybe--just maybe—could have held him or kissed him or something.
Maybe Virgil could have loved him back.
Instead, he had shattered his hopes like a baseball through one of the gas station windows.
Which was weird, because it had almost sounded like Virgil wouldn't be with him because of the fact that it was him and not because he was a guy. Which he had totally expected the latter but the former…actually, that made it hurt a lot worse, so dwelling on it wasn't a really good idea.
God he sounded like a girl. Then again, he felt like he was going to cry like one, so why not right?
He rolled over onto his left side and sighed.
Well, one good thing would come of this. He definitely knew now that there was no chance. Which meant that there was no reason to ever say anything about...stuff.
Even better, there was no reason to hold on anymore.
He could let go. He could move on, come out or whatever, find someone who would love him the way he deserved, still be best friends with Virgil, still be Gear. Have his cake and eat it too.
He could…actually be happy.
But at that moment, Richie Foley wanted to just lay on his bed with the jagged shards of what only an hour ago was his heart.
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Sticks and stones will break your bones, but words can break your heart.
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