Author: Summer Starr
Disclaimer: I came, I saw, I wrote fanfiction for. No profit is being made, so don't sue. My credit card is already suffering under a heavy strain.
Warnings: Slash (Virgil/Richie, GL/Flash, Sups/Bats, a lot of others), Alternate Universe, Crossover
Author's Note: Amazing how a one shot can turn into an epic, isn't it?
Ratings: M
Title: Like A Dream

Like A Dream
Chapter Five

"Nothing like a hot shower," Talon murmured to herself as she packed up her things. There was one shower, just like in a real house, and they all had to share. Not only did they have to share the shower, but they also had to share the hot water. They all took their turns, but they also all packed their own things.

For her, she had special soaps and shampoos, designed for a bird's body. And she hated it. Just holding the bottle made her sick, made her angry, made her want to weep. But try as she might, she could not ignore the fact that she was no longer human. She couldn't ignore a fact that slapped her in the face every waking moment of every waking day.

Sometimes she dreamed she was human again. But lately... lately, even in her dreams, she was a bird.

Two nights ago, with a scream caught in her throat, she woke up from a nightmare. She had been a bird, small and happy. Then, she had forgotten how to fly. Falling from the sky, she wasn't able to find any kind of lift, any kind of salvation. And just as the ground was rushing up to meet her, she woke up. It was fortunate that she captured her scream; otherwise, she might have knocked in a wall or three.

Before that, there was the dream of someone plucking all her feathers out and throwing her in a pot. And then there was the faceless chef, who stirred in potatoes that looked like Carmen Dillo and carrots that looked like Hotstreak.

She knew she wasn't the only one who had nightmares, though. There were others that had them. They went unspoken, but... they occurred often enough.

With her bath bag packed with her things, including her dirty laundry, Talon left the bathroom and headed towards her room. There, in her private place, she would play with her hair, what little there was left of it, before finally braiding it for the night.

The labyrinth of tunnels she had to take to get to her room, which happened to be the room farthest from the rest of the group, was a well-worn path to her. She could walk it in her sleep, if she needed to. And in fact, she was almost dozing when she became aware of the sound of voices, echoing down her tunnel. Well, it wasn't her tunnel, but it was the path she took to her hidden room.

She approached the curve of brick and stonewalls carefully, trying not to make a sound. Peeking around the bend, she was able to see the speaker, or rather speakers.

"I dunno, Francis," said Aquamaria, her voice bubbling from her mutation. She was sitting on one of the large, empty crates that they had found in the tunnels. Or, she seemed to be sitting. With a body made of pure water, Talon found it hard to imagine describing any action Aquamaria took as anything other than fighting, moving, or resting.

"You're worrying over nothing." Hotstreak grinned, strutting over to the liquid girl.

Clear arms crossed over a clear chest as the Hispanic girl retorted, "And you take things too lightly."

The pyro shook his head as he placed his hands on the box, pretending to trap her. "You'll see. I'm gonna get bought by a high roller, I just know it. And then I'll be in the big times, making the big bucks."

"Yeah, so you say, but..."

"And then! And then, I'll come back for you, and we'll start our -own- organization," the redhead promised, bringing his hands up to cup Aquamaria's chin, or what she formed as her chin. "You'll see."

There was the sound of sizzling, like water spilt onto a hot burner on a stove, as Hotstreak touched the liquid meta-human. But if Aquamaria was in pain, she didn't say so, and it couldn't be heard in her soft questioning, "You promise?"

"I promise," Francis nodded. "You and me. You'll see."

What was said or done after that, Talon had no clue. She quickly turned away from the tender scene and marched back towards the shared area. Part of her felt guilty for having eavesdropped as much as she did. It was their affair. It was their lives. So what if they were never able to... -do- anything. Fire and water did not mix, no matter how it tried. Water was either burned away into vapor, or fire was extinguished.

To top off that problem, Hotstreak was leaving! Leaving Aquamaria and everyone else behind. Leaving Dakota behind. Life outside of Dakota changed people. Which wasn't to say that life within Dakota left them untouched, but... What if Hotstreak was bought by someone like the Joker? Or the Penguin? What then? They were Batman's enemies, and everyone knew that to go against the Night Terror meant going crazy, sometimes with fear but other times just... going crazy.

Would Hotstreak go crazy if he went against Batman?

What if Alva Industries bought Hotstreak? What if Luthor Corp bought him? What if Brother Blood bought him? What if some foreign government bought him? What if...?

Talon sighed. She didn't need to worry like this. After all, Hotstreak wasn't -her- boyfriend.

She stalked into the common area, where Kangor, Puff, and Shiv were playing a game of cards. None of the three bothered to look up as she entered, which was just as well. She wasn't in the mood to talk. Instead, she found a shadowed corner and made herself comfortable, perched to watch her tunnel. She was going to wait for Hotstreak and Aquamaria to leave.

Where she was crouching, she was able to see the Chalkboard. She had no idea who had gotten the thing, or where, or how, but strangely enough, no one damaged it or messed with it. There was graffiti all over the walls and down entire tunnels in some cases, but the Chalkboard remained in pristine condition. She liked it because it was just as out of place as the rest of them were, especially down in the Tunnels. But the others liked it for another reason.

That's where the names were. The names of those who might bid in the next auction. And their odds of winning. There was a general pool that went around, everyone contributed five dollars and named the person that they thought was going to 'win' the latest Dark Disciple.

Before any bets could be placed this go around, though, Ebon had to give them all the go-ahead. This time, there was a... complication: Poison Ivy. Not that she begrudged the woman her opportunity, but it was out of the routine.

At the table, the game was in full stride. Shiv cackled as he dealt the cards, though he made sure to keep his energy out of them and therefore his head on his shoulders. Puff had a nasty temper, especially when things blew up in her face. "All right, all right. Playing by the rules. No tricks. No treats. Just the same dumb luck that could only be owned by fools."

"Oh, look, Kangor, Shiv is trying to rhyme," Puff sneered as she accepted the cards.

"And doin' a piss-poor job of it, too," came the heavily accented reply.

Shiv mocked them in retaliation with exaggerated pantomiming.

Puff smirked at his antics and then demanded two cards.

"So, what d'you t'ink of Ebon's plan? T'ink we gonna be able to snatch Static?" Kangor asked as he demanded three cards.

They had all be practicing throwing darts at a foam model of Static, complete with a dyed black mop top for his hair, braided in a way that it almost looked like dreadlocks. Shiv was a natural at throwing the instruments, but the rest of the Breed needed to work at it. Everyone except Hotstreak, who was to be auctioned within the week, and Aquamaria, for whom Ebon had other plans.

If it came to a knife fight, using wooden darts as makeshift knives, then most of the others would be okay, since no one thought Static carried a blade. Again, Shiv was the best at that as well.

"I don't think the question is if we can, I think the question is... who do ya think would want him?" Puff retorted. "He's a Defender, for crying out loud. Getting caught with him -alive- is gonna cause some -serious- trouble for whoever gets him."

"That's if they keep him alive," snickered Shiv.

"Why buy him if you're just going to kill him?" Talon interjected from her corner, deciding it was better to join in than to be an outsider among outsiders. She ran a claw through still wet hair. "He'd be useful. A living battery. Able to power an entire city, or some secret base, or even just use him for experiments. There are several armies that'd like to get their hands on someone with the kind of power he can generate. More use alive than dead, I think. 'Sides, having his corpse anywhere near you or the things you love would cause even -more- trouble."

"So, Miss Smartass, who do -you- think would buy him?" Shiv grinned, taking the sting out of his words.

"Someone with money. A LOT of money," she answered.

"Alva or Luthor Corp," Puff nodded.

"I be t'inkin' da Gorilla. Grodd, wasn't it? He's smart. Bet he could use a walkin' bat'try." Kangor smirked, laying down a straight.

The others threw their cards down in disgust, allowing Kangor to take the pot.

"Well, my money is on the Main Man, The Joker."

Again, the others groaned, but this time it was more because they already knew that Shiv was going to do that. Shiv always bet on The Joker. Talon wasn't so sure why, but she suspected that the white faced clown was Shiv's idol. Why anyone would look up to a crazy person, she didn't know, and she didn't ask.

As far as she was concerned, if someone's hideout was in Gotham, they had to be crazy. The criminal element of that city was utterly insane. The Night Terror... The Bat did it to them. Batman drove them insane. The whole Bat family did. Sometimes, when she had too much time on her hands and wanted to distract herself, Talon wondered who the Bat-momma was.

And tonight, Ebon was dealing with one of Gotham's locals. As if summoned by thoughts of him, Ebon arrived in the living quarters, swirling out from the wall.

Ebon knew all eyes in the room were on him, and if he had been in one of those old movies, he knew that the record would have scratched to a halt with his arrival. He noticed the table with the cards and money, as well as Talon, who looked to be fresh from the shower. "Where's Hotstreak?"

"Down in the tunnels," Talon replied, standing. "You want me to go get him?"

"Nah." Ebon shook his head, raising his hand to get her to sit back down. "He can find out later." He moved over to take a seat in one of the reclining chairs and let his head fall back.

"...So?" blurted out Shiv, unable to control himself.

If he'd been more than just shadows, someone might have seen Ebon grin. As it was, they heard his amusement in his voice. "She... declined."

"YES!" Shiv shouted, jumping up and bumping the table, causing several coins and several chips to fly off. He danced over to the Chalkboard and began marking for wagers. He was automatically up for the Joker. He turned to the others in the room. "Ladies and Gentleman, all bets are ON!"

Ebon laughed softly as the others tried to figure out whom they wanted to wager on this time. He had gone to Gotham with a full presentation: a music video entrance that was their classic theme which actually used the theme song from "Cops", a brief introduction of Hotstreak including basic stats and biology plus an interview about himself and why he liked who he was, followed by a music video montage, and then finally the signal to begin bids. The presentation had been burned to disc, but Ebon had taken his own laptop, not only as a security measure for her but also so that he could at least appear a bit more professional.

He had gone through the entire schpiel, and she had turned to him, one stylish eyebrow raised and the look on her face telling him, in no uncertain terms, that he had to be insane.

"I don't think so."

Ebon had not been the least bit surprised that she had rejected his offer. If -he- had been made of wood, or plants, or whatever it was that she was made of, he wouldn't have wanted to be around a boy that had a temper that was so hot it could literally melt asphalt.

Nevertheless, he'd agreed to give her first dibs on the next seven, which happened to include the hothead in question.

Of course, now Ebon had to make sure that the others offered weren't going to be outright refused. He needed to make sure that Ivy didn't think he was stiffing her on a potential profit. Because, just as her name stated, she was Poison.

Walking into the living area, and disturbing Ebon's thoughts in the process, Hotstreak tried to overpower the commotion of the others by brute strength. Or rather, by just being louder. "Hey! What's going on here?"

Talon snapped, "I don't think they heard you up at the Defenders' Fortress."

"You got RE-jected!" Puff snickered.

"Turned down, mon."

"Guess you just aren't as 'hot-stuff' as you thought," remarked Shiv with a wink.

The redhead opened his mouth to retort, but the liquid female behind him giggled, and the snarky comeback died in his throat. Instead he settled for glaring at all of them before he noticed Ebon in the chair. "That right?"

"Yep."

"Well." The pyrokenetic male drew in a deep breath. He turned to look at Puff and Kangor once more before turning to Shiv. "Put me down for Alva Industries. I trashed their place a while back. They might be interested in some payback."

"Francis!" Aquamaria gasped.

"Well, it's true."

The liquid female would have rolled her eyes if it were still possible. She did manage to shake her head and cross her arms. "In that case, put me down for Brother Blood, he's always interested in young potentials."

"Yeah, like -he's- got any potential," Talon snickered. She and Aquamaria shared a look, and they both broke out into a fit of giggles.

Hotstreak looked between them and shook his head, giving up. He'd much rather go up against Static Shock than either one of them, and all the Defenders rather than both of them.

-o0o-

Virgil came home tired, sore, and soaked through with sweat. But his shoes were still intact, so that was something.

He stepped through the door and immediately stopped. Richie was coming out of the bedroom, and obviously just out of the shower, draped in nothing but a towel. His hair poked up and out in disheveled blond spikes. Virgil felt his mouth water slightly at the sight of shower drops still clinging to the paler male's shoulders. Standing there, in his own place, Virgil felt like the proverbial deer in headlights.

Richie seemed oblivious to Virgil's reaction, pushing his glasses up his nose and smiling. "Hey, V! You're home!"

"Yeah..." Virgil nodded, his voice sounding softer and more horse than it needed to. He tried to cover his reaction by removing his shield, but he was still feeling a bit of soreness from a less-that-stellar run-in with some run-of-the-mill bank robber, and he let out a soft gasp of pain as he tried to shrug his shield off.

And then suddenly, the weight of the shield was lifted, and Virgil could relax a little bit. He turned to see his blond Chosen looking intently at the thing, his eyebrows drawn slightly together.

"Hey, V, how useful -is- this thing?"

"Huh?" Inwardly, the dark-eyed male groaned. He really needed to start working on his vocabulary, like, maybe using words with more than one syllable. It would help if Richie got some clothes on, true, but... At the same time, Virgil wouldn't mind seeing the other male without the towel.

"I mean, it's heavy and bulky." Richie shrugged, placing it against the wall, close to the door, before he returned and helped a still dumbstruck Virgil out of his gloves and coat. He hefted the coat, testing its weight as well, before muttering about weight and Kevlar and putting the items away.

"Well," began Virgil, rolling his head around on his shoulders, trying to work out some kinks. "When I'm in Dakota, I use it to fly. Electromagnetic currents, ya know. And it's also handy to have in case of an attack. It's solid metal, so it'll deflect blows and Hotstreak's fireballs, and water sprays. Granted, I still gotta dodge Puff, and even though Hotstreak's fireballs don't hit me they still melt my shoes, and I have to keep the thing under my feet, but... yeah, it comes in handy."

Richie nodded his head, a far away look in his eyes. But something snapped him back to the present, and he turned his gaze to look Virgil over. Whatever he saw had him shaking his head and indicating for Virgil to follow. "C'mon."

"What?" the electric teen asked. He followed the blond into the dining area where Richie turned one of the chairs around, so that its back was towards the table. He tilted his head, glanced at his Chosen, and then turned to sit down.

"No, sit backwards," Richie said. "And take off the shirt. And the mask."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm going to give you a shoulder rub. You obviously need it." Richie grinned. "Remember, I'm your Chosen. Here to offer you comfort. So, clothes, off!"

Virgil opened his mouth... and then shut it promptly. Looking sideways at the blond, he stripped out of his shirt and mask, and then sat backwards on the chair. He crossed his arms on top of the chair, and rested his chin on his hands. Much of his tension eased as Richie's warm hands rested on his shoulders. The dark-skinned male licked his lips and closed his eyes as surprisingly strong hands began to knead the aching muscles of his shoulders.

There were no words spoken as Richie worked, and the blond put a good amount of pressure into it, working the knots out. His hands dipped down to the small of Virgil's back, working those muscles as well. Richie applied no pressure to the Defender's spine, but the dark skinned hero doubted there was any area on his back and shoulders left untouched.

Gradually, Virgil's breathing evened out into slow, deep breaths. His head fell forward, allowing several of his dreads to fall in his face. He knew that he was probably enjoying this a bit too much, as his body was in a lazy state of arousal. When Richie's thumbs began small, firm circular motions on his neck, Virgil shivered. He licked his lips as the slow, firm pressure eased away more tension than he realized he'd had. And then those hands were in his hair, giving him a scalp massage.

Virgil Hawkins, self-appointed Defender of Dakota, the superhero known as Static Shock, was reduced to pudding. Jiggly, warm, homemade chocolate pudding. And if Richie continued for much longer...

Richie then tilted his head back and began to rub his temples. As relaxed as he was, Virgil was more than willing to do whatever Richie told him to do. He leaned back against his Chosen, his back seeming to automatically melt against the blond's front. Slowly, sleepily, Virgil opened his eyes to stare up at the blue ones looking down at him. Richie's fingers slowed their circular motion, finally coming to a halt, as their eyes remained locked.

They remained like that, Virgil leaning back against Richie, staring upward, and Richie staring down with his hands sliding down to Virgil's shoulders again.

Richie felt his entire body flush with heat and knew that if he didn't step back and away from Virgil -right- then, the towel around his waist was going to offer very little coverage of a very natural reaction. With a blush, he pushed Virgil forward as he stepped back. Thinking quickly, he tried to make a quick escape. "So, are you hungry? What would you like?"

'You naked on my bed would be nice,' Virgil thought to himself as he got to his feet. He knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon, though. He stepped around the chair and stretched, listening to the sound of several of his joints popping. "What do we have?"

"Hmm... How about..." Richie trailed off as he went to the kitchen.

Virgil shivered and looked to his bedroom. "How about you cook dinner while I take a shower?"

"Hmm? Okay," replied Richie, his back still to Virgil. "And when you're done, can you put your dirty clothes in the pile in the bedroom?"

"Huh? Sure," the Defender nodded, only partially paying attention. He walked to the bedroom, a bit stiff in more places than one, and was grateful that Richie -wasn't- paying him any attention.

Once inside the bathroom, Virgil locked the door, stripped out of his clothes and turned on a small bathroom radio. Richie was awake, so there was no worry about noise, just concealment. And he -really- needed a reprieve. He was a Defender, not a monk.

When he was finished, drained to the bone, he leaned against the wall, and let the water pelt him. He usually took his showers in the morning, to help him wake up, but sometimes he needed an extra shower when he got in from patrols. Sometimes, even though he needed the shower, he went without it, too tired to bother. But tonight...

With a sigh, Virgil turned off the water. He rubbed himself down, trying to get most of the water off, and then put on a pair of clean underwear and a pair of sweatpants. He took his dirty clothes to the bedroom and dumped them on the pile already formed there. Dark eyes caught an unfamiliar garment, and Virgil bent down to pick it up.

Coveralls.

The same kind of coveralls that mechanics wore back in the garages in Dakota. Virgil frowned at the garment a moment, and then it clicked. It was Richie's. Batman must have given him some clothes. There was an irrational spike of jealousy that Virgil forcibly pushed aside. Logically, he understood why the Night Terror had given his Chosen some clothes.

If Richie was to work in the Lab, welding, designing, and whatever else Richie wanted to do, it was better the blond had some protective clothing on and not just the Chosen sarong. Welding involved fire, flying sparks, and flying metal. Even soldering wasn't exactly something one should do in the buff.

Still, the jealous part of him said that Batman had no business giving Richie presents, even if it was for practical reasons.

Virgil had been stunned speechless when Batman asked him if he'd mind Richie working in the Lab. This was Batman, after all, and Batman didn't ask for just -anyone's- help. How Richie caught his eye... As was Batman's way, the Night Terror waited for him to gather his wits. He'd been somewhat hesitant at first, because, well, even though Batman was highly respected, and one of the Highest of the High in the grand scheme of things, the man had a reputation.

A reputation that Virgil was all too well aware of, especially now.

In the end, Virgil had asked for time to think about it. He really just wanted to ask Richie what he wanted to do. Most people were intimidated by the Night Terror, and he didn't think that his Chosen would be any different. If Batman's appearance had been a shock, Richie's reaction was a total mystery. Blue eyes widened, and the most brightest, most amazing smile Virgil had ever seen lit up the blond's face.

The next day, Richie was working for Batman. As in, Richie was working in the Lab, sometimes with Batman, sometimes alone. And the blond Chosen loved it.

With a sigh, Virgil dropped the coveralls and walked into the living area again. Richie was already setting the table, humming to himself. Watching him, Virgil let his jealousy dissolve completely. As long as Richie was happy...