A/N: Okay, this took a while. It's just that I'm teaching five days a week now.
Warnings: There are warnings I think I should make, but I don't want to give anything away. Feel free to flame me.
Warning 1: Swearing
Enjoy!
Chapter Five: Final Days, Part One
Even when death was so near he could feel its breath, Gear knew he was enjoying himself. And he would lust for the tension of the deception, the stalking danger of being so close and so bound to a creature like Brainiac, long after all that was over. If, that was, he was still counted among the living.
Brainiac struck Gear as both intelligent beyond belief and yet moronic in its refusal to take all the things it had learned and apply them to its new conquests. It's like learning how to read music, then never looking at a single note. Why gather the knowledge if you're not going to use it?
But he didn't mind Brainiac's purposeful ignorance; the supercomputer was almost easy to deceive, though Gear refused to get cocky. He knew well that at least part of the responsibility for Earth's future rested with him. Not that I can about anyone but Virgil, but he wouldn't be happy without his family. Gear sighed. Or without Richie. I couldn't have him to myself unless I took over Richie's mind. Not impossible, but unlikely in the extreme. Still, there's hope for what I want to come true. But until Brainiac's dead, there's no hope for anything, not even for Virgil to live on in blissful ignorance of my love.
Gear turned his attention back to Brainiac, grateful that he was able to hide any thought he chose from the supercomputer. His shields were much like those Richie had used, except they were undetectable, and so quite safe. In short, Brainiac thinks I'm being completely honest with it, one hundred percent of the time. And that is my greatest advantage. Too bad I can't keep Richie out the same way. But he'd tried that, and Richie had first suspected, then demolished his shields. No, I can hide nothing from Richie, unless we're separate like this, and there's no way I could live like this, unless I took over Brainiac's body. And not only does it not have one right now, but I like being in a human body too much to ever really enjoy it. He thought of the android body Richie had promised him, and sighed. If that was the only alternative to death, I'd take it. But… but I want… Again, he sighed. And here is my one human feeling, and it's the one feeling that won't do me any good.
Bearing his teeth in a forced smile, he approached Brainiac. "Have you heard the latest news? The Bang Babies revolted and stole the last known canister of Big Bang gas. As far as the police know, some of them might even have their powers back."
"That is irrelevant. What have you heard of the Justice League?"
"Nothing. That frequency is still blocked."
"What of Richie?"
"Again, nothing. He's keeping his mind completely sealed." Gear had no idea if this was true; he hadn't even tried to reach Richie. But he wanted to set up every barrier before Brainiac while appearing to be nothing more than helpful. Letting Brainiac know that Richie might be vulnerable was a no-no, at least so far. Richie would find a way to contact Gear when it was time to change that message. And for now, all I can hope is that the rumors of Static and Gear flying over Dakota are true, that they've regained their powers, and found a way to keep them. He smiled at the way he spoke so casually of Richie as Gear. But I'm not exactly his superhero identity anymore, am I? Yet, he couldn't be bothered to choose another name for himself. There were too many other things that needed to be done.
Brainiac turned its mind from the lack of information- another deadly flaw, Gear thought- and asked about the progress of the android body Gear was building for it. Gear had argued that an android body would be needed eventually, more to divide Brainiac's resources (which were massive) than anything else. You need to be able to move, he had said, and, You can intimidate most of Earth with the proper body, and, Without a body, you'll be able to move more quickly, it's true, but what if someone severs the connections between computers somehow? Then you'll need a way to escape.
Who could possibly do that? Brainiac had asked, half-curious, though the supercomputer tried to show its contempt only.
Richie could. And I know there are people on Earth more intelligent than Richie; he just happens to be the closest one right now. Think of the woman who sent the virus throughout the world. She could do it. Alva could do it, with the right scientists, because he's rich and can hire the best.
Now Gear explained that the body was coming along quite well and would be finished in another five or six hours.
Brainiac was pleased. Then it asked something Gear wasn't sure he wanted to answer. "Why do you dream? I know living beings need sleep, but why do you dream? Have you not found it distracting?"
The genuine, child-like curiosity tempted Gear to be honest. But, no; he had dreamed too many strange dreams to be anywhere close to honest. "I hope that I will learn soon how to repress my dreams so that they do not trouble my sleep, but all humans must dream. If we don't, we hallucinate, among other things."
"But you dream about nearly the same things every night, reliving your separation from Richie and dreaming of the future when you will gather information with me for eternity and leave your human mind behind. You should dream different things to be healthy."
"It doesn't matter what I dream, just that I dream. There's a chemical process that happens in the human brain when we dream. No one understands it completely, though I'll have to study it before I separate myself from my human remains. But that isn't now. For now, I must sleep again. I have not slept in two days." It was the best excuse Gear could make for his brief disappearances behind images that trooped by in succession. Any human who remembered his or her own dreams wouldn't have been fooled, because the images were static and not imbued with emotion or change, but Brainiac wasn't human and Gear saw so reason to waste energy on creating dreams that were too complicated when all he needed was the simplest shuffling of images. Brainiac never need know that the images weren't dreams, just as it never need know that Gear could go for a week without sleep and had done so twice already.
"Sleep. When you awaken, we must talk about the next step."
Yes, you've been hinting at that, with all the delicacy of a stampeding elephant in a drawing room, for three days now. So be it; we're ready to face Richie and the Justice League, or as ready as I dare to make you. "All right. As son as I wake up." And he went behind first the image of drifting, then sleep, then the static images. Only when he had put those last into place did he turn his mind to Richie. It's time. I can't put it off. Now I'm putting everything we've planned in jeopardy, but I can't wait for Richie. He needs to know how close Brainiac is to striking.
But before he could truly concentrate and reach out, trying to reopen the hole he'd made in Richie's mind, one image flashed before his eyes and he groaned, wincing. He watched Virgil and Richie making love, knowing that it was mostly his imagination, but taken from feelings that had leaked through the shield Richie had thrown up to keep his alter ego out. Gear brushed distractedly at his tears before forcing himself to turn his back on the vision. I can't think about that right now. Virgil needs me.
And if I'm only saving him so he can love Richie?
Gear growled and mentally slapped himself. Then he pushed out of Brainiac, knowing he would go undetected and felt for Richie's mind in the distanceless, directionless void between minds. He floated between the two connections for long moments, in almost the worst danger of his entire mission.
…sleeping… beautiful…
That was Virgil's mind. He must not have his shields up. Idiot.
Richie's mind was quite near and Gear pushed his way in.
Richie came awake at once, the last visages of his dream melting away. Gear.
Yes. Brainiac's getting impatient. How close are we to being ready to take it down?
We can do it tomorrow. Backpack is helping me with one more shield. Are you all right?
Why do you do that to me?
What? Richie seemed genuinely confused.
Ask after me, actually care about me.
It's my nature. We've been over that. Why?
Just having dreams of being alone with Virgil.
Richie sighed and, to Gear's surprise, didn't seem angry. He's beautiful. I know. And I know you're helping because you love him. If you didn't dream about him, I'd be worried.
Damn it, Richie! You're too fucking compliant and accepting! I was thinking about killing you or destroying your part of our mind so I could be with Virgil!
So? Gear, that's what you've been trying from the beginning. Why should I be surprised or any more on my guard than I already am?
Oh, fuck off. We're wasting time. I have to go back soon. Is there anything you want me to do on this end?
How's Brainiac going to try to fight?
I've almost finished its android body, hoping that would help to make it more vulnerable.
It should. Thank you. Have you planted the seeds of our separation?
For the first time in days, Gear unbent sufficiently to laugh. They've been planted, taken root, sprouted, and bloomed.
Richie grinned. Beautiful. What about Backpack's destruction?
Brainiac knows it, yes, and believes the link that you and Backpack made has been destroyed. It also doesn't know about your connection to Virgil, but I suggest you tell him to keep his shields up.
He will. Have you set up the firewalls?
Yes. Brainiac's trapped and the moronic computer doesn't even know it yet. It won't understand what a mistake it's made until it enters its android body. But even with the firewalls, I still suggest we destroy every circuit Brainiac has poked its tentacles into. Brainiac needs to be destroyed once and for all. That's the only thing that makes our triple sacrifice worth anything.
Agreed. We know where Brainiac will be, so we'll be there, early tomorrow morning. Just make sure all Brainiac sees is me, all it hears is me.
I know. Gear didn't even bother to hide his irritation.
Richie didn't seem bothered by it. Be careful, Gear. I'll see you when this is all over.
I hate you for caring about me.
I know, but just like you can't help caring about only two things in the whole world- a fact that I don't really believe, if you want to know the honest truth- I can't help worrying about you. But if you want me to keep it to myself, I'll try.
What do you mean, you don't believe that? I care for myself and for Virgil. Period.
I'm not going to argue with you, Gear, but I sense more than that. I'll see you on the other side. Richie waited a moment to see if Gear had anything to say, then he broke the connection, sealing himself up in his mind.
Gear flung himself back to rejoin Brainiac. Damn Richie. Thinks he knows everything. Thinks he know how I feel. He doesn't. He can't. I only love myself and Virgil. That's it. Damn fucking Richie, who the hell does he think he is?
I think the genius protesteth too much. Gear scowled at himself and went back to Brainiac, ready to explain that he'd gotten all the sleep he needed in just two hours. The idiot supercomputer would believe anything from its newest ally.
oOo
Dr. Todd had released another dose of his cure. For that, if for nothing else, Hotstreak was grateful. It had taken almost three days for the antidote to penetrate the connection he'd been forced to make with Ebon, and in that time, Hotstreak had endured the devil's own dose of suffering, but at last they'd been released. At once, Ebon went off to try and find another cure, but Hotstreak had more important things to worry about.
Yeah, like getting some clothes. Glancing down at his shredded shirt and pants, Hotstreak winced. And there are only two places I could go for clothes: Aunt Sue and Talon. And since Talon is closer- He waited until after dark, then made his way through the alleyways and the streets where the lamps had been shattered long ago. Talon- Teresa- probably won't be overjoyed to see me, but I still think she'll help me. Of course, I could just steal some clothes… Except I'm still hoping I can find Richie and Virgil and explain things. He grimaced at the sorrow that rose, sour and strong, in the back of his throat, and walked faster. Good thing my shoes mostly survived, at least.
As he half-jogged towards the apartment building where Talon had taken him once when she wanted to peek in on her family during those early days, he thought, Maybe if I'm not Hotstreak anymore, she might be a little friendlier to me. He grimaced. But not Francis. His mind flashed back to Christmas Eve with Richie suggesting one name after another. Many of them mean fire. Egan, Kai, Fiyero, Orion, Nuri, Nuriel, Aidan. And there's Adam, which means red earth. He frowned, muttering the names one at a time to himself. Not Nuri. It reminds me of this cartoon about a dancing bear named Yuri. Huh. Orion's belt. Yeah, right. Nuriel. He gagged. Kai and Egan aren't me. Aidan might be okay. Fiyero… "Fiyero." He frowned. "Fiyero. Fiyero." He smiled. "Fiyero." A pause. "Fiyero." A slight nod. "Fiyero."
Looking up, he stopped running for a moment. His eyes narrowed as he tried to see the stars beyond the city lights. It was impossible. "My new name is Fiyero. I just hope you like it." Unsure of whom he was talking to, calling himself a fool, he moved on. And as soon as I'm dressed, I'm going to tell Virgil and Richie. Then he grinned. Well, since it's midnight or so, maybe I can wait a few hours. No use scaring them out of their wits.
Wake up, you fucking moron! If they cared for you, they would have been out looking for you, wouldn't they?
Hotstreak stopped, gasping as if he'd been punched in the stomach. That was the sort of comment Ebon had made frequently. Shaking his head, Hotstreak couldn't escape the echo of that torture. Groaning, he stood, staring down at his feet as he tried to just breathe. Richie… It's not true. I saw the love in their eyes! They wouldn't have given up! Richie must know I'm still alive! He has to know! Maybe Brainiac just struck and they can't- That got him moving. Hotstreak broke into an all-out run. Shit! I'm such a fool! Of course it's Brainiac! It has to be! They've been fighting Brainiac, maybe since the night the ship sank, and now they're in danger! I was made part of the plan! I need to be there to help! He ignored the thought that he was running through the night, half-naked, and making quite a bit of noise as he sprinted down first one street, then another. I'm coming, Richie, Virgil. Just hang on til I get there.
And what if they're not in danger? What if they've just-
Shut the hell up! Go stick your cock in a tree and fuck it! They love me! I saw it in their eyes!
He skidded to a halt outside the apartment building and leapt up the steps. Groaning, he realized he didn't know Talon's last name. He scanned the names by the buzzers and prayed for help. Okay, God. I need you. Do something.
The front door opened and Hotstreak jumped back so fast he tripped down the stairs. He raised his fists as if he was going to use his firepowers, but of course those didn't exist anymore.
Teresa stared at him, her face hardening. "What are you doing here? We ain't got nothing to steal."
Fiyero held up his hands, palms out, doing his best to seem honest. Hell, he was trying his damnedest to be just that, but how could she know? "Teresa, please. I need your help." And when she didn't slam the door in his face, he took that as a good sign and climbed the first step. "Virgil and Richie might be in trouble. I need to help them. But I…" He coughed and gestured at the rags he wore. "I need some clothes. Please help me," he said, because she hadn't moved; her face was just as hard. "I love them. Please help me save them. All I need is clothes. You don't have to get involved at all."
She stepped back, touching the door as she went.
She's going to slam it and I'll have to run all the way across town to Aunt Sue. He shook his head. No. If she slams the door, I'll just find Virgil and Richie like this. I can't wait any longer. He backed off the bottom step. "Never mind."
Teresa beckoned to him. "Come in. My mama's boyfriend can loan you a shirt and some decent pants."
Fiyero grinned. "Thank you."
She sighed. "Just don't get used to it." And, when he was just about to enter the house, she hugged him, dragging his head down so she could kiss his cheek. "I thought you were dead. All of Dakota thinks that. I'm glad they were wrong."
oOo
"Richie, I have been watching the house of your foster parents as you instructed, and…"
Richie turned to Backpack, his eyes narrowing at once. He longed to just open his mind and connect with Backpack, but that was impossible, especially with Brainiac so close. "Tell me." He sensed rather than saw Virgil join them. Why Virgil was up at four in the morning, Richie had no idea, but he was glad to have Virgil there, just the same. He reached up and took Virgil's hand, his eyes focused on Backpack still.
"There is a large concentration of humans near their house, and none of them match the biosignatures of the community's residents."
Richie's hand tightened on Virgil's. "Then we have to go check it out. We won't be confronting Brainiac until about nine this morning; there's plenty of time." As he stood, reaching out with his free hand for the hidden place where his costume was stored, he added, "And maybe we should bring them here, just in case. I want everyone we love under one roof."
Virgil released Richie's hand and tiptoed into his own room, returning with his costume hidden under his shirt. He locked the door behind him and checked to make sure the blinds were closed. Then he and Richie dressed. "Rich, maybe we should take Pops and Sharon there. Or, better yet, maybe we should call Bernadette and John, just to check. Just because there are unidentified humans hanging around doesn't mean-"
Richie, his face hidden behind his faceplate, asked, "Do you honestly believe that?"
It was an echo from a few days ago when Virgil had suggested they would be happy as civilians. Just like the last time Virgil had heard it, he was forced to rethink his words.
Richie didn't wait for him to say anything. "Besides, what about the premonitions you've been getting? You said yourself, last night, that they seemed to deal with both Brainiac and with something else you couldn't name." Richie turned towards the window. "Are we ready?"
Virgil nodded. "We're on our way." But before Richie could open the window, Virgil laid a hand on his shoulder. "Promise me we're sticking together this time. And promise me we'll contact the Justice League if anything goes wrong before we get back to Dakota."
Richie gazed at him, then raised his faceplate. His lips brushed against Virgil's own. "I promise, Virg."
Virgil nodded as Richie lowered his faceplate again. "I love you, Richie."
"If we don't live through this, remember I love you."
"We'll live through it." But Virgil remembered the frightening idea he'd had, that Hotstreak's death (it had to be death, now; he'd been missing for three days) was only the first of many. And, for the first time, he considered the possibility that either he or Richie would be counted among the dead. Shivering, he hugged Richie against him. "Just please be careful."
"Back atcha, V." Richie tried to smile and failed. He seemed on the verge of tears. Maybe he was thinking about Hotstreak.
Virgil squeezed Richie's shoulder, distracting him. "Come on; let's go."
oOo
He'd been sprinting towards Virgil's house, praying the two would still be there, despite his fears. But he'd taken the shortcut through Richie's old neighborhood, and so he was in the perfect place to see the lights on in Richie's old house. Blinking, distracted, Fiyero jogged across the lawn and crept around the side of the house, looking for a clue as to who was home. Had Richie's mother been released from the hospital?
At last, he came to the kitchen window and found it unshuttered. Pulling himself up to the windowsill, he peered inside. His arms trembled and he shuddered with hunger and exhaustion. Still, Fiyero knew his adrenaline would carry him for as long as it had to. He'd find a time to eat. Later. Right now…
Sean Foley was standing about, talking to five or six other men. All of them were dressed in fanatics' robe. Even as Fiyero watched, his eyes narrowing, Foley drew out a gun and gazed at it. His eye sparkled and he put the gun away again, saying something to the others gathered there.
Ten to one, that gun's meant for Virgil. Fiyero dropped to the ground. Now I have to- But he stopped, harkening to the sound of the engines starting in front of the house. And they're going now! He knew that even if Virgil and Richie weren't home, Foley might kill Virgil's father and sister. I won't let that happen. I'll make sure they stay safe, then I'll try to find Virgil and Richie. He slipped from shadow to shadow, making his way to the front of the house. There he saw the various cars being filled. There had to be thirty or so KKK members.
The front door opened and a tall man strode out. He ordered everyone to arrive at the target from different directions, but not to approach until he arrived. Then he made his way to a large station wagon close to the house.
That's where I have to be. Fiyero wasn't sure how he could slip onboard, but he knew he had to. Not too sure I can hold onto the roof. He groaned. Why is this so much easier in the movies?
One by one, the cars pulled out, turning different ways, When all of them were gone, the tall man turned and went back into the house.
Fiyero's grin showed his teeth. He looked almost feral in the light of the nearby streetlamp as he streaked across the intervening space and dove into the front seat of the station wagon. After darting a glance at the house, he crawled to the back and lay flat, praying they wouldn't store anything there. Then he saw that things had already been placed there, and relaxed. Carefully folded in one corner were several sets of respectable clothes: khaki pants, polo shirts, socks, underwear, a black suit and tie, new, white sneakers, dress shoes, a white robe. Fiyero frowned at these, then turned his eyes to other things. A duffle bag contained a toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, a razor, shampoo, soap. The next bag held a Bible, paper, pens, a book of devotions, another of prayers and a third of songs. Hymns. He was tempted to look at the songs more closely, wondering what sort of songs the KKK might sing, but something else caught his eyes. Fiyero made sure he was still unobserved, then he opened first the devotional, then the Bible. On the first page of each was this legend: Given to my son, Richard Osgood Foley, in the Name of God, on this, the 11th day of January in the year of our Lord 2004. May he grow in the understanding of God and the knowledge of Christ's forgiveness. Amen.
Fiyero wished suddenly for flame to surround him, not so he could destroy what was before him, but so he could ward off the chill. He sat stock-still, unable to think. Then he heard the sound of the front door opening and quickly put the books back. He lay as close to the back seat as possible. He drew up the collar on his new coat and hoped he wouldn't have to fall back on his story that he was a hobo just trying to sleep and the car had been empty. It was cold enough outside for that to be believed. Let's just hope they don't' find me. I don't have another way to follow them.
The doors in the front opened and closed as the car settled with the new weight. Fiyero didn't allow himself to relax yet. He kept himself perfectly still, even as the engine started and the car backed out of the driveway. Lying still as death, he hoped to hear something of the plan the leader and Sean had cooked up.
But all he heard was the rasp of the radio as it was turned to a Christian station and played softly in the background. If either man intended to talk, they were taking their sweet time. At last, Fiyero decided that the two didn't' need to talk; they knew all they were going to do. I was just thinking this is like a movie, so they have to say their plan so I can hear it. He smiled. Was it like this for Virgil and Richie when they first became superheroes? Did they do a lot of spying before they figured out that they might never hear what they wanted? Nah. They're too smart for that. They probably did what I'm doing; they spied on one person, realized they weren't going to learn anything anytime soon, and moved on.
A few minutes later, he thought, Damn, this is taking forever. Where could they possibly be going? They aren't going back to wherever they came from out of town, are they? The urge to sit up and see where he was drew at Fiyero, and not being a very patient person, he at last gave in. Gingerly, he drew himself up, trying to stay out of the line of sight of the rearview mirror. He peeked quick, then sank back down, again going absolute still. I know this neighborhood. We're close to where Richie foster parents live. He balled his hands into fists. Well, joke's on you two: Richie isn't here. And I'll find a way to stop you from killing Bernadette and John. You can count on that. His feral smile returned. Sometimes, it pays to have very few values. I would kill all of you just to save two people. So I suggest you freak and run when you see me. If only I still had my powers… Well, I'll just have to make due with what I have, right? I fought before I had my powers and I can fight again. That's the big difference between Ebon and me; I know how to make due.
His mind strayed to Ebon, wondering if the Shadow would find any more gas. If so, he'll sniff it quick and not draw out the moment, like last time. I can't worry about him right now. All in good time.
The station wagon stopped and the doors opened. Fiyero peeked out and saw the darkened house where John and Bernadette lived. The rest of the KKK members had abandoned their cars in other places so only the station wagon and the Corbett's car inhabited the driveway. Sean and the leader joined with the other KKK members who were waiting on the sidewalk, staring up at the house.
They have no idea what's coming, Fiyero thought, his eyes also trained on the small Cape Cod. I've got to warn them. He watched the leader gesture for everyone to get behind the station wagon and the Corbett's car so they couldn't be seen. Great. Well, do I risk being seen before I want to be seen? As the man strode towards the front door, Fiyero decided that was a yes. He slithered over the back seat and pushed the passenger-side door open. Leaping out into the night, he yelled as loud as he could: "John! Bernadette! Run! It's the KKK! Run!"
The trap was sprung. Too early for most. Those sheltered behind the two vehicles poured out and tried to catch Fiyero between them. Laughing, Fiyero leapt away from them and darted around the side of the house. A bullet raced by his ear, but that was the only one fired. Then he was safely hidden and he began to look for a way to get into the house. Glancing up, he was surprised to see that all the lights were still off. He sprinted around to the back of the house, and wondered why no one was following him. What had their leader told them? Didn't they want to catch him before he could help John and Bernadette escape? Had the leader, or maybe Foley, noticed that he hadn't shouted to Richie? Were they even now taking to their heels, defeated?
He stared up at the darkened windows in the back of the house and called up, not caring if the KKK heard him, so long as John or Bernadette did, "You need to get out of there! Sean Foley's not playing! Come out and I'll help you escape!" He glanced towards the woods. "We can hide. Just come out."
Silence answered him and Fiyero prayed that the two weren't somehow still asleep. But they aren't superheroes, and they haven't lived their lives on the streets. They probably have no instincts to speak of. He cupped his hands around his mouth, ready to shout again.
A rustling behind Fiyero drew his attention and he spun about, fists raised. "Who's-"
"Come in here. Quick!"
It was John's voice, or so Fiyero guessed. After glancing around to make sure he wasn't being watched, he made for the shelter of the trees. He didn't know his way through them, and so he kept stumbling and making an awful racket until a hand closed on his arm and guided him. He went willingly, hoping everything would be explained soon.
"Lift your feet or you'll trip," whispered Bernadette. A minute or so later, she put his hands on the rungs of a wooden ladder built right into a tree. "Climb."
He did, hearing her behind him. He went all the up, coming out on a platform he could barely see. He was drawn forward by John and urged to sit. He listened to Bernadette settle herself. Unsure of what to say, he waited in the darkness, frustrated that his eyes weren't adjusting. Guess I haven't spent enough time outside the city.
"Who are you?" John asked at last.
"Are you Hotstreak?" Bernadette grasped his arm. "You are, aren't you?"
"Yes. Where are Virgil and Richie?" Yup, you've never lived in danger. You'd make a terrible spy.
"They're at Virgil's house."
"Wait a minute." John sounded unsure. "How can we know you're really Hotstreak?"
"I don't any proof, except I'm the one who sent Richie the phoenix statute. I love them both and I want to protect them. Please believe me."
"All right." John sighed. "What do you need to know?"
"Have they gone off to fight Brainiac yet?"
"No; Richie's…" Bernadette laughed uneasily. "Listen to me, trying to pretend I know what he's going to do." She shivered; her hands rasped against her sweater as she rubbed her palms up and down her arms.
Fiyero relaxed slightly. "So they really are at Virgil's house still."
"Yes, as far as we know. We talked to Richie just last night. This night." John sighed again. "Why are you here?"
"I was looking for Richie and Virgil and ran into the Klan first. I followed them here." Fiyero shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to be away, finding a ride back to Dakota. If Richie and Virgil hadn't been fighting Brainiac, why hadn't they come to look for him? The doubts Ebon had planted resurfaced. Shoving these aside, he said, "You didn't sound surprised to see me."
"Dette's an eternal optimist," John said. He coughed. "Richie and Virgil are sure you're dead. Dette and I tried to play grief counselor for Richie especially. The only thing that's keeping him going is the fact that Brainiac could destroy the world. He wants to protect us and Virgil's father and sister, if he can. But he's called us every night for three nights, looking for comfort. He takes some comfort in the Bible, but he… Well, this is Richie's first death. He's holding together so he can fight, but that's the only reason."
Fiyero closed his eyes and silently called himself a self-centered son of a bitch. "I have to tell him I'm all right, then." He made as if to stand.
Bernadette caught his arm. "Wait, Hotstreak. I wanted to ask-"
"My name's Fiyero. Richie gave it to me on Christmas Eve." But he sat back down. "What is it?"
"Is Sean Foley out there?"
"Yes."
"He's looking for Richie."
"More, I think, but I can't be sure. I think he wants to kill Virgil. But the back of his station wagon's loaded with clothes and stuff for Richie. I think he wants to kidnap Richie and take him somewhere. But since Richie isn't here, everything's-"
Beyond the woods, the little Cape Cod went up in a ball of flame.
Bernadette cried out, then clapped a hand over her mouth. John drew her close and kissed her hair. His eyes caught the light of the flames as he stared at their house, unable to look away.
Fiyero was on his feet at once. "Looks like they wanted to make sure you're not in there." He made for the edge of the platform. "Stay here. I'm going to check and see if they're going now." He glanced back at them, noticing how they held hands like children lost in a forest. "I'll be back. Don't move." He slipped down the ladder and began to creep towards the fringe of the forest.
oOo
The bright, unhealthy glow of fire led them. Picking up speed, Richie flew across the sky, leaving Virgil struggling to catch up. But even as Virgil opened his mouth to tell his partner to slow down, Richie stopped abruptly and hung in midair, gasping. Virgil almost ran into him.
"Richie? What is it?"
"It's their house, V." Richie's voice was scarcely above a whisper. "Backpack says they aren't inside, but what if they've run out to meet their fate and-"
Virgil caught Richie's shoulders in his hands and bore down gently. "Rich, listen to yourself. We'll see when we get there. Don't live the horrors before you know if they're true." My Richie would have never done this- my Richie as he was before Hotstreak died. Virgil made sure Richie was looking directly at him before he spoke again. "Listen to me. Don't panic until there's something to panic about."
Richie's hands were shaking. "He's shot them. I know it. I can see it-"
"We're three blocks away!" Virgil shook Richie, then drew him onto the saucer, almost crushing the blonde with his need to make Richie calm down. "Stop this, Rich. You can't know what's happened until we see for ourselves."
After a moment, Richie swallowed. "I… I know." Groaning, he pushed back from Virgil so he was flying on his own again. His face was set. "I'll be all right. Let's get over there."
Virgil caught Richie's arm before his lover could fly away. "Stay close to me. You hear me? That's an order."
Richie's mouth tightened down, but then he sighed. "I promise." He stayed at Virgil's side as they soared over the last few housetops. "I wish I could lower my shields," he whispered so quietly not even Backpack heard him.
The fire was worse than Virgil had expected, but no worse than Richie had expected, having received information from his instruments. It seemed like a sick joke to Richie that he could rely on every invention he possessed except Backpack, the one he trusted most. But it actually makes sense, when you think about it. Why not fly into something new half-blind? It's not like I can really think through anything. I'm half-crazy; why not half-blind? Again, he wished for Backpack in his mind, and he also wished for Virgil's voice to touch his thoughts. And, once again, he turned his thoughts to the horror before him, sparing a moment to remind himself of these facts: Virgil is still here. Backpack is still here. As soon as we make sure my parents are safe- a vision of Bernadette and John dying under Sean Foley's gun flashed across his mind, but Richie shoved it away- we're off to kill Brainiac. After he's dead, I can collapse. Not before.
Two dozen KKK members were visible milling about the front of the house, too stupid to realize the police would have probably been called. They seemed to be glorying in a resurgence of their power.
Virgil and Richie swept down upon them. Together, they rounded up and contained every man and woman. Virgil stuck many to the cars in the driveway and Richie bound them with metal coils. There was no hope to containing the fire themselves, so Richie contacted the fire department.
But there was no sign of Bernadette, John… or Richie's father.
Shouldn't he be here? Richie wondered. Why isn't he here? Everything says he should be! Did he stay hidden and just send these to do his dirty work? Richie's eyes behind his faceplate flashed with blue lightning. Why didn't you show up? At least then I could have known you were behind bars, hard as it would have been for me to capture you myself. V would have done it and-
"Static! Gear! Down here!"
Both superheroes looked and saw the miracle standing a little distance from the burning house, though still on the Corbett's property. He was wearing different clothes than either teen had ever seen, but that didn't matter: his red hair with its streaks of bright yellow and his welcoming smile were unmistakable.
Faster than he would have thought possible, Richie dropped to the ground, only pulling up at the last instant to prevent a nasty fall and maybe a broken leg. He sensed Virgil beside him and reached out with one hand for his lover even as he settled on the grass and reached up to touch his other lover's face. Richie watched his fingers tremble in midair for a moment before they rested against the beautiful skin before him. But Richie couldn't feel the skin he so longed to touch. Yanking off his glove with his teeth (he still clung to Virgil's hand, rooting himself in reality) he reached up again. This time, when he touched his loved one's face, a calloused hand closed over his own.
Richie's lips parted, but before he could speak, Hotstreak moved forward and drew both Richie and Virgil against him. "My name's Fiyero now," he whispered. Then he groaned as two sets of arms wound themselves about him and effectively tried to crush the breath out of him. He returned the embrace and drank in the smell of Richie's hair and Virgil's faint cologne. "Oh God… Oh God, I didn't think you'd take me back. I thought you didn't want to look for me… I thought you gave up on me."
Richie opened his faceplate and began raining kissed along Fiyero's jaw. "We thought you were dead… We looked… Three days…" He sobbed and clung to the taller teen all the more desperately.
"We looked," Virgil said. He, too, was kissing Fiyero, though more slowly. "Where have you been? Are you all right?"
Fiyero kissed each of them, then drew back. He was still holding their hands. He let go of Richie for a moment and closed the superhero's faceplate. "We can do this later. John and Bernadette are in the woods and they're-" His eyes traveled to the captured KKK members. He seemed to be doing a head count. "Sean Foley and the leader of this cheerful bonfire aren't here. Did you see them?"
Richie shook his head and pulled back from Hotstreak to free a Zap Cap. "Let's get to Bernadette and John. We'll airlift them out of here."
"Or you would if you could." Six men marched around the corner of the blazing house. The tall man Fiyero had seen before led them, and Sean Foley strode at his side. The other four had laid hands on John and Bernadette and were approaching, their faces hidden by their hoods. For some reason, the leader and Sean saw no need to hide themselves.
Richie's expression changed at once. "Release them and we'll et you live." Another Zap Cap found its way into his hand and he smiled. "Trust me; you don't want to face us right now."
"Where's my son, Whore?" Sean Foley's eyes were lit from within and his hand strayed to the gun at his belt.
Richie laughed. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He cocked his arm back. "Last chance, you racist bastard."
Virgil charged up his hands and moved to float beside Richie. "Put your hands up, Foley. All of you. They're not to be touched."
"Where's me son you fucking faggot?" Sean drew the gun so fast he should have been able to get off a shot. Except the Zap Cap blinded him in a flash of light. He groaned and dropped to his knees, rubbing his eyes and gasping.
The rest of the KKK moved forward as if to shield him, dragging John and Bernadette closer.
"Go home, little children," Eustace said, holding up an empty hand in benediction. "Go in peace. This doesn't concern you anymore."
"Like hell it-" Virgil began.
Another Zap Cap hit Eustace and he tumbled forward into the grass, metal coils wrapping about him from neck to ankles. "Let them go before I carry your leader up twenty stories and drop him," Richie said, taking a step.
Fiyero reached out. "Gear, wait/" You can't mean that! I thought Gear went to merge with Brainiac! But if he did, then this is really Richie speaking. Fiyero's stomach turned. Please don't let it be Richie.
The KKK members seemed to be consulting. Their hoods moved as they glanced at each other, trying to decide. At last, the two holding John let go. The other two followed suit.
Some of the all-consuming rage left Richie's voice, though the steel of his voice wasn't tempered at all. "Now get out of here. Leave the rest to us and-"
A gunshot, sounding far-off, sounded then, and one of the men staggered forward and fell. John turned instinctively and caught him.
"John, no!" Richie wrenched the Zap Caps from his belt.
Sean Foley shot John twice: once in the knee and once in the chest. Then he shot Bernadette three times: once in the abdomen, once in her left breast, once in the head. The couple fell with scarcely a sound.
The Zap Caps hit Sean Foley in the chest: one of water, one of electricity. Two more followed: same combination. And a third pair. Sean screamed and jittered and was thrown off his feet. He lay, twitching, in the grass.
Richie stalked over to his father and ripped off his helmet. "Go to Hell," he said.
"Ri----Ri-----"
Richie dropped another electrifying Zap Cap and danced back a step as Sean's leg snapped towards him. "Go to Hell." He spat at his father, then put his helmet back on. Turning away, he activated his Shock Vox and in a perfectly calm voice called an ambulance. "For two," he said after giving the address. And when he'd shut off the Vox, "Where are the fucking fire engines?"
Richie didn't watch the four free KKK members take to their heels.
Stumbling, he tried to move towards his parents. But he kept falling back a step every time he managed to make his legs work. Only then did Fiyero and Virgil see that Richie wasn't crying. His face was dark behind the tinted plate, his hands shook, but no tears fell.
"Richie-" Backpack began.
"Shut up. You don't want Brainiac to hear you, do you?" He tried again to reach his parents. He was closer now, but he couldn't seem to take the final steps.
Virgil approached, touching Richie's arm. Richie didn't seem to feel it or to notice him. He seemed similarly oblivious to Fiyero's touch on his shoulder a moment later. He had eyes and thoughts for only the man and woman that lay before him, their blood spreading around them, mingling. "I love you." Richie at last knelt between them, his pants becoming instantly soaked. He took John's hand in his right and Bernadette's hand on his left. "I love you. I love you."
Bernadette moaned and her fingernails dug into Richie's palm. Then she was still. John didn't move or speak.
Richie stayed with his parents until the ambulances came. Three had been sent instead of two, and Richie didn't ask why this was so. He gave up his parents as the paramedics moved in. Staggering back, Richie collapsed against Virgil and Fiyero, who held him up, wrapping their arms around him.
Richie took no notice of his lovers, even then.
oOo
Gear had been monitoring the police bands, so he heard all about the KKK attack on Richie's foster parents. Well, that will make Richie seem weaker to Brainiac, which would definitely work in our favor. He sighed. Unless he really is weaker, of course. And now I don't know if he'll come here immediately or what will happen.
Shaking his head (all of these were mental movements, but they felt real) Gear added, It may not be a question of weakness. He might be so furious that he can't think straight.
"Gear."
At once, Gear appeared before Brainiac. "I've heard interesting news," he said.
"Yes. Richie Foley has lost his foster parents. He is one that I would like to absorb. His knowledge is invaluable. Of course, I don't wish to waste time assimilating all of humanity, but a few specimens won't slow me down considerably. Who else would you recommend?"
"Superman, if you could get him," Gear said at once.
"But he is not human. And I already know everything about him. He is just like all the others that died on Krypton."
"Growing up on Earth changed him. He's different. At least consider him."
"So be it. Others?"
"Batman. He is said to have the best deductive mind on Earth." Gear smiled. "And, if you can, Wonder Woman. She is a completely unique woman. Most women are dependent on men; such is not her fate."
"I will consider her. Are there others?"
"That depends on what fascinates you. Personally, if I was you, I wouldn't want any children or most of the members of the general populace. They're dimwitted and lost, for the most part. The Justice League isn't just the Justice League because they have superpowers. They're the best and the brightest, for the most part. The Teen Titans aren't worth it; neither is Flash or Green Lantern. But those I mentioned… Now, those should whet your appetite for knowledge."
"And so you recommend Richie for the same reason?"
"Yes, but you need to be careful. Only take Richie if you can be sure he and I won't mix. We're… volatile… when together. It's nothing you can control; it's completely chemical, like that which causes dreams." Okay, I've done everything I can to protect Richie. The rest is up to him.
And why are you protecting him?
Fuck off… Great. Please don't tell me I'm talking to myself. What a sign of lower-level intelligence. Except it wasn't; it was just embarrassing.
"Do you understand the dream process yet so that you can separate yourself from your body?"
"I'm almost there. One more link has eluded me until now. But I think I've got it at last. I'll run another test or two, then I'll be ready to drop off my human remains."
"Excellent. I want you completely fused to me when it is time to fight for our knowledge."
"I'll be ready. I can't wait to travel with you through the galaxy."
"I never thought I would need another with me, and I do not really need you, but I…" Brainiac seemed unable to explain.
"I enjoy your company, too," Gear answered. "You're made completely of purpose. I respect that."
It felt good to say one thing that was nothing more than unblemished truth.
oOo
"…We can only speculate that Gear must have known this unfortunate couple. Neither he, Static, nor the man formerly known as Hotstreak have agreed to comment. This is Shelly Sandoval with Channel Three News."
Sharon jabbed at the power button on the remote control almost hard enough to break it. "Richie's Gear!" she almost screamed at her father. "Isn't he, Daddy?" Then she gasped and clutched at his arm, letting the remote fall. "And Virgil… He's Static! I knew it! I suspected it last year, all but believed it until he tricked me!" her nails were digging into her father's arm. "Isn't it true? Are they Static and Gear? Are they?"
Robert disengaged his arm from his daughter's hold. "Yes. We wanted to tell you, but you were so upset about the run around the insurance company was giving you. And…" He sighed. "And then I forgot." He took her hands in his. "Sharon, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I forgot. I'm sorry."
"How could you forget!" She jumped to her feet, then collapsed back on the couch. "That's why Richie was so out of it when Dr. Todd announce his cure and why Virgil was so…" She moaned and put her head in her hands.
"Sharon-"
"Even then you didn't tell me!" She glared at her father. "I could have helped! Maybe…" She was on her feet again, pacing now. "They need us. We have to get to the hospital and-"
The phone rang and Sharon screamed, her hands going to the sides of her head.
Robert started to make for the phone, laying a hand briefly on her shoulder. But Sharon beat him to it, leaving him to grab the phone in the kitchen. "Hello?" Sharon demanded. "Who is this?"
"Sharon, it's… it's me. I need to tell you-"
"I know. You're Static. I know."
There was a brief silence, then Virgil said, "Well, yeah. Look, John and Bernadette are still alive. They're in Dakota Memorial Hospital. Can you stay here for them? Gear and I have to go fight someone. It's very important."
"Virgil, who are you-?" Robert began.
"I can't say. But we won't be alone. The Justice League will be with us. It's very important. Will you come? It means the world, literally." He swallowed. "Sean Foley's still alive, too. R-Gear… almost killed him. I've never seen him like this before. I need to go help him. Fiyero's helping a little, keeping him calm for now, but I-"
"Who's Fiyero?" Sharon and Robert asked together.
"Hotstreak. I'll explain later. God, I wish I'd explained everything to you sooner…" He cleared his throat. "I have to go. Will you come?"
"We're on our way," Robert answered. "Do what you need to do, Superhero."
"Thanks, Pops."
"Be careful," Sharon said.
"I will. I promise. We'll be back. Just… stay at the hospital, okay? Don't go driving around. Things are happening…" The muffled sound of Virgil talking to someone, then he came back on the line. "I have to go." He hung up.
Sharon placed the receiver back in the cradle. Closing her eyes, she put her hands against the wall and just leaned there for a moment as shivers ran through her body. She wasn't crying, but her trembling was frightening in its intensity. When her father wrapped his arms around her from behind, she turned so she could hug him convulsively. They stood that way for a minute, then Sharon pulled back. "We have to get to he hospital." Her eyes were still dry. "But first, do you know what they're going to fight?"
"No. They haven't said anything to me. But if the Justice League's involved…"
"Why do Virgil and Richie have to fight? Why can't they just rest and stay with Bernadette and John? Why do they have to fight? From what Virgil said, Richie's already lost it once. What if he…" She shook her head. "Never mind. We have to go."
"Not yet." Robert put his hands on both of his daughter's shoulders. "Listen to me, Sharon. Richie and Virgil will get through this, whatever it is. They've been fighting for a while now. They're good at it." He realized he was just repeating the persuasive words Virgil and Richie had used on him, and forced himself to stop. "There's nothing we can do unless they ask. As much as we want to keep them safe, they're needed. They were given their powers. And since we don't have either the powers or the experience, we have to wait. It's the hardest job in the world, but we have to do it. They need us to stay with John and Bernadette, so that's what we'll do."
Sharon sighed. "But, Daddy… Hotstreak?"
"I'll explain on the way to the hospital."