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: Hello. Please keep arms and legs inside the ride at all times. Please, do feed the writer. And note that all flames will be going to starving pyros. The Flash was done by my beta, and by GL of course.
Ratings: M
Title: Like A Dream
Like A Dream
Chapter Six
Another day, another patrol, and another day of crime fighting that ended up with sore muscles, media attention, and another documented Bang Baby. He hoped that Richie would be home and had to reign in the urge to salivate at the idea of another backrub. He had a suspicion that if he had any luck, though, it was bad. His mind working at half power as he walked to his room, he started placing bets on how likely his Chosen was to be there, waiting for him.
For the past week, whenever he came home, Richie wasn't there. And sometimes the blond had to be tracked down before he was willing to come home. Granted, it was easy for Virgil to track him; Richie was constantly in The Lab. On the days that Richie did come home on his own, he always, always went straight to the bathroom to shower. He dripped with sweat, his eyes holding a faraway look in them and wearing a slight smirk.
To add insult to injury, Batman was not only keeping Static's Chosen busy during the day, and sometimes night, and not only was he giving Richie gifts, though even Virgil could see that they weren't so much gifts as necessities, but the Night Terror was also -paying- Richie.
Virgil was still lost in thought when he arrived to his place. It seemed that Richie had stayed late again. The Defender would have loved to say that he had been prepared for it, that he wasn't upset by it, but he knew better. The tightening in his chest was evidence enough. Tiredly, he put his shield up, feeling a sense of fatigue that had nothing to do with the physical world, and then threw his coat on the back of a nearby chair. As the cloth fell, the door opened. Virgil turned sharply to see who the intruder was. Only, it wasn't an intruder.
Richie grinned as he walked into the room. "Hey, V!"
Much of Virgil's tiredness drained away, and he was even able to grin as he answered back, "Hey, Richie, what's up?"
"You got a minute?" The blond practically danced in place.
"Sure, whatcha need?" the Defender asked as he followed his Chosen out the door.
"I have a surprise," Richie smiled. "Now, it's untested, but I think it'll work, and... Well, you'll see."
"A surprise, huh?"
Together, they made their way to The Lab, chatting about what Virgil had done and seen in Dakota; most of it was information about the people they knew rather than the Bang Baby that he had fought. Occasionally, other Defenders, or other Chosen, who waved hello and shouted greetings, interrupted their talk.
Far faster than seemed possible, Virgil and Richie were walking through the doors that led into Batman's private working area. Or rather, Batman's and Richie's private working area. The young Defender looked around, noticing that it was as... eclectic as usual, but that it was also eerily quiet.
"Batman's not here right now," Richie explained, as if he were answering one of Virgil's unasked questions.
"Oh," Virgil nodded. The door closed behind them with a soft hiss and caused the darker-skinned male to jump. Richie, though, was already moving to what had been unofficially designated his area of the lab.
"Okay, so, I know how heavy your shield is, and that it only gives you moderate protection, so..." Richie smiled as he grabbed something from his desk and presented it to his Defender. It was a triangle in a dull silver color. There appeared nothing special about it, but Virgil knew that if it was produced in Batman's lair, then there had to be -something- special about it. "I've been working on something that's a lot lighter and more flexible."
And then, with a flip of his wrist, Richie caused the triangle to fan out into a smooth circle. With a quick demonstration, the blond showed how flexible the material was by bending it back and forth, but the material always returned to its normal, flattened state. With another flick of his wrist, Richie refolded the metal and tossed it to Virgil.
"It shouldn't take nearly as much effort to fly that as it would something heavier. Plus, it doesn't conduct heat, or at least, not to the point that it would melt your shoes."
Virgil looked down at his new shield and ran a slight jolt of electromagnetic energy through it, causing it to flare out. Cautiously, he stepped up onto it. "You built this?"
"Yeah. I... I thought it'd be easier for you to carry around, not get in the way so much," Richie nodded. His muscles tightened with apprehension, hoping that his little invention would work. He knew the numbers for it were right, but he hadn't really field-tested it.
Virgil looked down at his feet as he commanded the disk to rise a few inches off the floor. With his head still lowered, he looked up through his eyelashes at the blond. Richie had been thinking of -him- while he had been working. The knowledge made a previously unknown knot of tension dissolve even further. Without asking, Virgil knelt down on the disk and proceeded to fly random patterns over the room. It was easiest to fly along bulkheads and metal sheeting, which meant that if he wanted to, Static could fly upside down.
When he was done putting the contraption through its paces, he glided back to his starting point. Richie stood in front of him, grinning fit to crack his face, a smile that only the Cheshire cat could really pull off. "So, what do you think?"
"Nice," Virgil replied as he stood up. The disk continued to hover a few inches off the ground.
"I'm glad you like it. Honestly, I wasn't sure if you would," Richie continued to smile. In a rush, he added, "I wasn't completely sure of anything really because, ya know, the numbers added up but without you here to field-test it, I wouldn't be sure how effective it would be."
"The numbers?"
"Yeah, you know, how much energy you usually expend, how much you probably got stored up, how long you usually patrol, weather conditions, health, how much you weigh..."
"So... If you used just my weight, can it hold more? Like, can this thing hold two people?"
"Theoretically, it can." The blond slowly nodded, some of his smile slipping away.
Virgil grinned. He held out his hand and quirked an eyebrow. "Well, let's test it."
Richie hesitated for a moment. Only a moment though, and then he was grabbing hold of Virgil's outstretched hand. The disk tipped slightly as he climbed up, but otherwise remained off the ground. He turned so that his back was to Virgil's front, and strong, bare arms were around his waist. Virgil shifted behind him, pulling him impossibly closer, so that the Dakota Defender could rest his chin on Richie's shoulder. The Chosen did his best to suppress a shiver as warm air ghosted across his ear.
Virgil's smile went unnoticed by the other male. He tightened his arms, wishing that Richie had taken the time to get out of his coveralls before this little experiment. However, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Using his powers, he lifted them both further off the ground. He could feel his Chosen's body tense as they moved further upward, but he kept hold on the blond. When they were almost to the ceiling, Virgil stopped his ascent. And they just stayed there, unmoving for a few moments.
During those precious, quiet moments, Richie began to relax in his arms. The blond didn't quite lean back against him, but there was noticeably less tension. Grinning, Virgil tilted his head and whispered, "How long, do you think, should we stay up here to test this?"
"Uh..." Richie's mind was a total blank. From his vantage point, he was able to see his workstation. He could see all of his various projects in their various states of completion. Only this glider and his new computer, a little toy that was the mother of all processors, were completely finished. The others... were less so. But he didn't want to think about those. Thinking was not something he wanted to be doing right then. He would much, much, much prefer just standing there, with Virgil's arms around him and the world seemingly miles away. "Just... a little while longer. Yeah?"
"Okay." Virgil nodded, moving so that he could bury his head in the curve of Richie's shoulder. "Normally, I'm not standing on my shield with anyone. Normally, as soon as I get them out of danger, I drop them off and head back to the fight."
"Yeah?" Richie asked, only half paying attention. The cool temperature of the room had nothing to do with the prickling of his skin.
"Yeah," the darker teen murmured, using his lips to caress a patch of skin on Richie's neck. He could feel Richie beginning to tremble in his arms, and for a moment, he wondered if perhaps he frightened the blond. But then, his Chosen turned slightly, looking over his shoulder. There was a spark of... something in those blue eyes. Something...
They held their gaze, as if mesmerized. For a moment, both of them forgot the rest of the world, forgot the fact that it was Virgil's power keeping them afloat, forgot that they were not in a private chamber.
"Richard." That one word cut through the spell, though the voice speaking was as quiet and as calm as Death itself. Both teens looked to the ground.
"Hey, Batman," Richie called out. Even from where he was, he could see Batman's eyes narrow at the hoarseness in his voice. Behind him, he could feel tension return to Virgil, and the arms around his waist tightened momentarily. He didn't blame his Defender. The Night Terror gave him the creeps, too. "You're back."
"I need you to look over some plans for me."
Richie nodded his head. "Of course."
Virgil sighed as he lowered them both down to the ground. "I guess you'll be here for a while, huh?"
"Looks like it." Richie nodded as he hopped off the disk. "But... I should be home in time for dinner. Do you want to meet in the food hall?"
"Sounds good. Nine?"
"I'll be there." The blond grinned before moving off towards the main computer, where Batman was waiting.
Virgil forced himself not to grind his teeth as he noticed Batman reach out and place his gloved hand on the small of Richie's back, guiding him towards the console. The Night Terror's cape slid forward to hide the gesture but not soon enough. Virgil spun around and stalked out of The Lab before he caused a scene. Batman was a more established Defender—in fact, he was one of the founding members—and intimidating as all hell when he wanted to be, which, Virgil suspected, Batman preferred to be intimidating at all times. And then there was Richie... Virgil didn't want to cause a... problem if there wasn't a need for his reaction. It was just... he seemed so happy to get back to work! Energy crackled around him as he moved, all of his earlier exhaustion fading into a dim memory. He thought about going to his room, but... there was no appeal there.
Thinking about it, he really had no idea where to go. He didn't want to be by himself, though, that was for sure. And he needed information. Reliable information. Or, if not reliable, then at least from a source he trusted.
The interesting thing about The Fortress was that once a person knew it, they knew it. There was very little chance of getting lost, no matter from where a person started. There were only so many ways of getting from Point A to Point B. He might not have been The Flash, but Virgil managed to get to the man's abode in a very short amount of time.
Outside, it was a room like any other room along the hallway. Virgil hadn't seen anyone around for a while, but that was to be expected. The Flash had a room in the more adult side of the station, where he could be among the more mature, grown-up Defenders. Not that the man acted like his neighbors, but Virgil had heard some of the others whisper that being among them could only help. The Dakota Defender snorted to himself as he raised his hand to ask for admittance. The Flash was the fastest man alive, but the more his thoughts threatened to change him, the more he remained the fun-loving person he was.
Virgil rather admired him for that.
The twin panels of Flash's doors slid open, and the dark-skinned hero stepped through. And then was struck speechless. Just last week, he had stopped by, and the décor had been completely different. Whereas before there had been posters of cherry red sports cars, motorcycles, pimped out Cadillac's, and otherwise tricked out cars, now there were posters of candies, suckers, jellybeans, and... just weird things on the wall. Granted, the red velvet couch was the same as it always was, and the fake fur rug in front of it still remained. Virgil shook his head as he caught sight of Green Lantern, sitting down in one of the overstuffed chairs, reading a book.
The first thing that Virgil noticed was that Green Lantern was out of uniform. His black and green superhero garb was replaced with faded jeans that looked as old as time itself and a black sweater. Looking up from his book, he nodded. "Hey, Static."
"Hey, GL," Virgil grinned, trying to relax. He looked around the room one more time, trying to spot some kind of sign that Flash was home. When he couldn't hear any music, or any noise for that matter, he knew that the man in red was out. "Um... I don't suppose you know where I could find Flash, huh?"
"He had to go down to Central City for something," the former Marine shrugged. "Take a seat. It shouldn't take too long."
"Cool, thanks." In the time he had spent at The Fortress, he knew that GL and Flash were tight, and he had often come by and found one hanging out in the other's room. Granted, this was the first time he had come by the Flash's place and had seen only Green Lantern there, but... at least -someone- was there. And he could wait. Like GL said, it shouldn't take too long; The Flash -was- the fastest man alive. Everywhere was just five minutes away. "So, wow... he did some redecorating. Again."
"Yeah," the older Defender nodded. "I'm not so sure it's an improvement. Granted, the candy makes a lot more sense than the cars did, but..."
"And he took down his disco ball," Virgil said as he looked towards the ceiling.
The green-eyed male smirked. "Yes. But I'm sure you didn't come here to talk about his decorating skills. Mind letting me in on why you're visiting, or is it something that only he can know about?"
"Wow, straight to the point."
"Yeah, well, I deal with The Flash on a daily basis. He doesn't have what you might call a long attention span."
"...Yeah, I can see that," nodded Virgil. With a sigh he leaned back. "Hey, can you tell me some of the history of the Defenders? Like... What's the deal with the Chosen?"
"What do you mean?" the Traveler asked, closing his book and putting it to the side.
"Well, I know that Chosen are here to... provide a bit of... comfort?" Virgil struggled to answer the question while still retaining some of his pride. He knew that it was a common practice to give Chosen to other Defenders. Sometimes just for a night, other times permanently. But that wasn't what he was interested in. Richie was his. Period. "But..."
"Static." There was a deep sigh that Virgil remembered his pops used to make, as if to say: 'Why me?' "The Chosen... Okay, first of all, some of us had secret identities before... but being a Defender is an around-the-clock job."
"I kind of noticed that," the younger male quipped, leaning forward.
"Yeah, especially those that guard cities." Green Lantern grinned for a moment, silent as he thought of something else. He shook himself as he returned to the topic at hand. "When Superman and Batman first created The Fortress, and first brought The Defenders together, there was concern about some of their loved ones back on Earth. You can't have a 'normal' life and be a Defender. But, that doesn't mean we didn't want a normal life. It was Superman's idea to bring the Defender's lovers and families up here."
"But those were families, not Chosen."
"Right. Later came the idea of Chosen, but they were originally just apprentices. Or at least they wanted to be apprentices. Sometimes, those would work out, sometimes, they wouldn't. Sometimes, they were utter disasters." The older male paused. Hesitantly, he asked quietly, "You remember that the current Robin wasn't the first or second, right?"
"Yeah, I know," Virgil remarked, his eyes falling to the gaudy rug. "It's a taboo topic, though. Do you know what happened?"
"I know it had something to do with the Joker, like most of his problems. But, Batman doesn't like talking about it." The larger male frowned for a moment, silent, and then continued on. "Anyway, no one was allowed to leave here after they'd spent any amount of time here. So, those 'Chosen' took on different roles. Some became a kind of servant or janitor. Others... Others became concubines and mistresses and... consorts."
"Uh-huh," Virgil nodded. "So... did they stay with their original Defenders, or did they change who they were working for?"
"Well, at that time, the Chosen were still quasi-free agents. If they wanted to work for another Defender, they could talk with their original employer and then move off with the second one."
Virgil bit his lower lip before asking, "Do those rules still apply?"
Green eyes blinked in confusion. "Well... not really. Most of the rules governing Chosen have changed. For instance, now some become Chosen and then become apprentices if their Defenders want them to, and if they think the Chosen can handle it."
"That's not what I meant." Virgil grimaced slightly at the tone of whining in his voice.
"What do you mean?" Green Lantern tilted his head to the side.
"Say someone became... oh, your Chosen. Only, they wanted to work for... Batman." Virgil waved his hand in front of him, trying to pantomime a thought he couldn't quite put into words just yet.
"I don't see that happening." Green Lantern shook his head. "But even if it did, it wouldn't."
"Huh?"
"Chosen aren't free agents any more." The former Marine gave a small shrug. "-We- chose them. -They're- Chosen. Not us."
"Oh. Okay," the Dakota Defender sighed. That made sense. Most of the Defenders in residence had already been chosen for a higher purpose than to warm someone's coffee or to warm someone's bed. They were heroes. They had been chosen to defend those that couldn't defend themselves. But still... "Has one Defender ever stolen someone else's Chosen?"
Green eyes regarded the younger male in utter silence for a few moments. "Static... Virgil, are you afraid someone is going to kidnap Richie from you?"
"No! It's not that!" Virgil shook his head, waving his hands in front of him. Yet, he wasn't quite able to meet his idol's eyes as he denied the assumption. "Not even close. It's just... well, has anyone?"
Green Lantern sighed as he tilted his head back, trying to remember. "There... have been a few cases where a Defender went missing in action or was killed, and their Chosen went on to live and serve others, only later it was found that the presumably dead Defenders were alive and healthy. Then came the trouble over to whom the Chosen really belonged."
"What happened?"
"Well, when disputes like that occur, there's a trial."
"It's happened more than once?" Virgil couldn't hide the shock from his voice. Just how many times could someone return from the grave?
"You'd be surprised," came the dry retort.
"Okay, wow." Virgil blinked as he leaned back in his seat. He tried to wrap his mind around the idea of someone being dead, all of his or her stuff being distributed, only to return. How would he feel? That... that was something he'd save for a later day, he decided. Forcing himself back on topic, he asked, "What are the trials like?"
"We usually have three judges, and it's up to the Defenders in question plus the Chosen. Usually the Chosen isn't very helpful, but... there is the fact that they -are- intelligent beings that we have to take into consideration, and who they're happiest with."
"Sounds... kinda cold."
"Honestly? I'd rather go through Armageddon, -again-, than have to sit in on another of those trials. It gets... vicious."
Virgil nodded his head. That was believable. Custody cases usually -were- down and dirty. He sat forward, putting his chin in his hand as he thought about the situation. And then he blurted out, "Hey, GL, why didn't you ever take a Chosen?"
Green Lantern opened his mouth, but, amazingly, no sound emerged. After a second attempt, followed by a cough, the former Marine was finally able to answer. "Chosen... I don't need one."
"But... what about... you know... wanting someone to be here when you get back from... going across the galaxy?"
If the older male was going to answer that question, the reply got lost in the sudden onrush of wind and energy that entered the room. The Flash zipped through his apartment in a blur of red, heading straight for the kitchen, with its stockpile of food.
"HeyStatic!" Virgil thought he heard the onrush call out, but he wasn't positive.
Green Lantern closed his eyes and shook his head as the air caused some of the order in the room to dissolve into utter chaos. When he opened his eyes, he caught Static's attention and grinned. "Like I said, I don't need a Chosen. I'm quite happy with the way things are."
Virgil could hearing a bit of banging around in the kitchen, mostly what sounded like Flash going through the fridge, piling up food. Finally, the speedster took the time to slow himself down enough to speak and be understandable, craning his neck a bit to look out to the living area at the younger male. "How's it goin'? Were you waiting for me? Not too long, though, huh? Hope GL didn't bore you. Because he can do that sometimes."
"Nah, man. I just had some questions, is all," Virgil smiled, settling back to visit for a while. "How was Central City?"
"Outrun the bad guy. Outwit the bad guy. Save the day. The usual." Flash dumped his armload of goodies onto the coffee table, a few items almost falling off to the floor.
"Boring, huh?" Green Lantern smirked.
Flash rolled his eyes and reached for a Twinkie. "C'mon, GL, you say that like it's a -bad- thing."
"It -is- a bad thing."
"Not all boring is bad." Stuffing the cream-filled treat into his mouth, he turned his attention back to Virgil. "So, what'd you wanna see me about? Were you in dire need of my pearls of wisdom?"
Green Lantern snorted.
"Actually, I was wondering something..." Grinning, Virgil leaned forward and poked at some of the snacks on the table. "How many Twinkies can you cram into your mouth at once?"
A smug look sprung onto Flash's face. "That is best question -ever-."
-oOo-
Richie propped his feet up on the console as he reviewed the data that Batman had brought him. While it was all very complex and technical, and sometimes redundant and boring, it was also fascinating to see such... artistry displayed in nothing but numbers.
Clunking up beside him on four mechanical legs, his experimental computer, which he nicknamed Backpack, seemed almost lifelike. Which was part of the reason Richie was so pleased with it. It was -supposed- to be lifelike. He had tried to program artificial intelligence into it, but... So far, the closest he could come to it was imprinting his own thought patterns onto the computer. Using a small device planted just behind his ear, he was able to mimic telepathy with the machine, and have it respond. So far, the experiment was a complete success.
Not that he was going to be telling anyone that for a while.
Currently, the machine was searching for two different things. Music videos, because they were usually fun to watch, and anything related to Dakota and what was going on there. For the second search, Backpack was also going through radio broadcasts and police frequencies.
As he went through the raw data from one of Batman's projects, Backpack began to beep. Lifting his eyes up, Richie silently asked what the problem was. Then, a small window appeared on the main screen.
It took a few moments, but what he was watching finally registered with the blond. The Chosen tilted his head to the side and asked rhetorically, "Why would someone want to make a music video of Hotstreak?"
Backpack had no answer to the question.
With a dismissive shrug, Richie told his mechanical companion to disregard the data and concentrate on more important things. Not that he questioned the sanity of Dakota residents—he used to be one so he knew that they were all crazy—but amateur music videos of Dakota criminals were not things in which he was particularly interested. To him, that was about as sane as becoming a serial killer's fan.
His attention refocused on his analysis. It took another alarm from Backpack for him to realize that it was almost time to meet Virgil for dinner. Absently, he nodded his head, patted the machine on its domed top, took off his earpiece, and went about leaving a few quick notes for Batman. He knew that not long after he left, the Night Terror would be returning. If he had any questions, the Defender would call him, but the blond doubted that Batman would bother. With the earpiece off, Backpack went to his recharge station, which was hidden among the many shadows of The Lab.
Richie knew that he had fallen into a routine of sorts. Wake up in the morning, clean up a bit, shower, eat, come to The Lab, tinker, get a signal that Virgil was home, go home, eat, hang out, go to sleep, and start over again. He was happy with it, true, but... He knew that there were more opportunities hidden somewhere. More opportunities to be helpful. More opportunities to make a difference. More opportunities to impress Virgil.
He just needed to figure out how.
He placed his notes about the data on Batman's console, with a double security of emailing the notes to an intranet account. With a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure everything was in its place in his part of The Lab, Richie walked out of The Lab. He smiled the entire way to the food hall.
Time to meet up with Virgil.