Title: The Best Laid Plans

Author: Silverkitsune

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Static Shock is the property of the WB and all other associated networks and creators. The characters of Tracy, Derrick, and Carlos however do belong to me.

Authors Note- Wildfirefriendship, you rock for reviewing every chapter that I've posted so far!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Part 5

There was no moon that night.  The park, whose lights had long since been broken, was wrapped in a thick darkness.  For Derrick and Carlos so used to the city and the never ending supply of streetlamps, apartment lights, and glowing neon signs the darkness that the park created felt strange and foreign, but it also useful. It created a cover, their own cloak of invisibility that allowed them to slip among trees, playground equipment, empty beer bottles, and cigarette butts to dispose of what had been an unwanted guest.

"Damn it, he's heavy," Carlos grunted shifting the weight of Foley who was draped over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Why do I have to carry him?"

Derrick didn't look back, just pushed a few of the branches that blocked his path to the side and kept moving.

"Because I know the way."

"The park's a big place," Carlos said stumbling a little. "Let's just drop him here and go."

Derrick gave the dying flashlight in his hand a few smacks, and nodded in approval when the thin beam of sick yellow light reappeared.

"Quit bitching, we're almost there."

Foley had been out of it for almost an hour now, high as a kite and hopefully enjoying the ride they had sent him on. Not that he'd been a very enthusiastic or willing passenger. It had taken the four of them to hold him down, and Derrick had a feeling that his split lip was never going to fully heal. He'd been the one to hold onto the kid from the back.

Cutting the ropes off from around his hands, he'd slid one arm around the chest while the other one held the left arm twisted behind Foley's back. He'd felt the kid's heart beat skyrocket, thumping hard and fast through the back of his shirt even before the vocal protest had started.

"What are you doing?" he'd asked no longer with the calm controlled voice Derrick had heard in their last conversation.

Tracy had pinned his feet, and Aden had pulled the arm Derrick had left free forward, yanking up the sleeve and holding it still between his two great hands. 

"No! Stop!" Foley had demanded. "Let go of me."

No one had said anything, and it had been Carlos who had injected him, a task that took three attempts. When he'd first tried Foley had jerked away, snapping his head up. The top of Foley's head had connected with Derrick's jaw, and his mouth had filled with the familiar taste of his own blood, but he hadn't let go. Foley had fought hard to twist out of their grasp, and going into an all out panic when Carlos tied his arm off.

"God no!"

"If you keep moving," Carlos had said. "Then it's going to hurt."

"Screw you!"

"Hold his arm still," Derrick had snapped at Aden. The large man's head had nodded and Foley gave out a small whimper at the sudden pressure that was applied to his arm. The drug worked fast, and Derrick had felt the kid's body relax in his arms, the breathing going slow and shallow until there was almost nothing.

"Shit!"

A harsh epithet from Carlos finally made Derrick turn back around.

"Will you shut your mouth it's just a few more feet."

The two of them stumbled along, the flashlight giving out three more times before it finally rested on an old wooden picnic table.

"Here."

Carlos strolled over, and dropped the kid onto the table in an ungraceful heap. Foley's head smacked against the wood, but no sound of pain came with it.

"Try not to kill him Carlos," Derrick said.

He swung the weak beam of light around him, catching the out line of the trees and bushes. He couldn't see anything beyond them.

"All right," Carlos said. "Let's go."

Derrick turned back around the light racing ahead of him. It caught Carlos in its weak path and Derrick raised an eyebrow at the pair of shoes that now hung around the other boys neck, tied together with the laces. He doubted that Carlos could have seen the expression in the dark, but he must have guessed that a question was coming because he grinned wolfishly at him his teeth yellowed and sharp in the faint light.

"I need new sneakers. His looked my size."

It was a little past 2:17 am and Virgil was exhausted. He had searched every corner of Dakota and found nothing, not one sign of Ritchie. The nervous itch had grown making him twitchy and nervous, as though the electricity running through his body had grown a voice of its own and was now warning him of an unseen danger. It was becoming harder to convince him self that one more trip around the city would be the solution to finding his friend, and he was being forced to consider the unwanted though that Ritchie had been taken. Unlike the last time though, it wouldn't be because one of the bad guys thought they could get to Static Shock through the blond teenager. Besides Ebon none of the meta humans in the area probably even knew Ritchie existed. If someone had taken him it would have been just a random criminal, someone who might want Ritchie for reasons beside revenge. Reasons that made Virgil's skin crawl.

He chased the thoughts away almost as soon as they appeared. That wasn't going to happen.

Not wanting to give up, but not having any luck with his current course of action, Virgil had created a loose plan in his mind. He would search the park one last time. If he found nothing then tomorrow he would weed out ever meta- human that wasn't rotting in prison, from Hotstreak to Puff. Even if one of them hadn't taken Ritchie he would have bet his entire comic book collection that they knew something. People like Hotstreak and Puff may have been bad to the bone, but that didn't make them blind or deaf. 

He hovered down into a secluded spot in the middle of the park.  It was almost completely hidden form sight by the shadowy out lines of trees and bushes on all sides,  and the light from his board bathed the clearing in a shimmering white blue light.  He couldn't fly here. The park was filled with hundreds of small nooks and hiding spots that would have been impossible for Virgil to find from atop his board, but that didn't mean the tool was useless. After landing he folded it up, but instead of stowing it away in his coat allowed his power to continue its flow through the metal. It glowed in the same silver blue light that circled his feet when he road, and blazed like a torch, lighting his way better than any flashlight could have done.

Spinning around the clearing, he held the torch high praying he hadn't just interrupted a couple having a little bit of fun on a Friday night. At the end of the clearing was a long wooden picnic table that stood half in the white blue light and half in shadow. In the light he could just make out a pair of stocking feet almost hanging off the edge of it, and Virgil moved closer to get a better look.

Probably just some park bum catching a little sleep, He thought.

The pool of silver blue light grew as Virgil ventured closer, first revealing legs, then a torso, arms and finally a head. The light caught in the sleeper's hair and face making the skin look smooth and pale as death, the hair a startling white blond color. He froze.

"Ritchie?"