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, Aden, Carlos, Dr. Kumar, Dr. Cruz, Jenny and Ankit however do belong to me.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long time space between chapters. I do however appreciate the one or two kicks in the pants a few of you sent my way ,

My school work is going to be kicking my ass this semester, so I can't promise an update too soon, but I will try. Again, huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed or enjoyed the story so far!

Part 13

The air was chilly and from what the weathermen had been chanting for the past week, the next few days weren't going to do much in the way of temperature change. Tracy hated the cold, and in an effort to warm herself up had pulled her arms into her coat so she could hug her body from underneath the clothes rubbing her hands up and down her sides. It wasn't working.

She always remembered Adam on mornings like these. Adam who had always felt warm, especially in the chilly months just before winter. Mornings when she'd woken up cold, she would roll over to his side of the bed and curl up next to him. It was what she missed about him. Not "missed about him the most" because to say that would mean there were multiple things she missed about the bang baby, and breaking up with Adam had, in her opinion, been the smartest thing she'd ever done. Still, she'd never stop missing the way the boy's body just seemed to generate heat.

A gust of wind caused her to drop her head and grit her teeth. Stepping over the remains of a broken beer bottle, Tracy picked up her pace, going into a trot. She had a block to go until she reached the Dakota Blood Center, and the quicker she moved the warmer she'd feel.

Derrick had returned to the warehouse, a sulking Aden in tow, only a few minutes before, marching past her and Carlos who had both been playing a rather weak game of Bullshit. It was Aden who delivered the news. They were leaving. They had three hours and then it was off to Metropolis. Anything that needed taking care of had to be done before they left, and yes everyone was going with. Derrick would leave no evidence behind.

Tracy had no people to say good-bye too. A string of ex-boyfriends and family members she'd rather not see made up a good portion of her social circle, but she did have cash to collect. When on the run it was never a bad idea to have a good stack of bills shoved in your shoe, and she had plenty of it. She was good at what she did, and her cuts from the cash machine jobs had never been small, but the safest place for her cash was also in a place where she couldn't get at it at 3:55 in the morning. In the bank under her dead mother's name. It had taken more than a little hacking to make the bank think that Sarah Lee was in fact alive and well, but it had been worth knowing that her cash was securely being held in a locked vault. That and the irony of the bank guarding stolen money also gave her a fair amount of pleasure.

Hopping up the curve Tracy pushed open the clear glass door that led to the Blood Center, letting out a sigh of relief as the heat engulfed her.

"Hey," she said to the receptionist, a thin girl with black hair. "I'm here to open a vein for my fellow men and women."

Peering up from what looked to be a biology textbook, the girl nodded. The plastic nametag pinned to her shirt read "Kitty", and with a smile she handed Tracy a clipboard covered with forms Tracy could have filled out with her eyes closed.

"Have you done this before?" Kitty asked.

Tracy had been giving blood for as long as she could remember. Giving blood meant a free bag of cookies, a free can of juice and $50 upfront. The Dakota Blood Center was perfect for it because they were somewhat shady in their dealings, and would let just about anyone give. Back when she'd still been using, Tracy had given multiple times only hours after coming off of a heroin high, the drug still thrumming through her system, the cold after effects washing in. Whether they used her blood or not wasn't her problem. She'd never been reprimanded.

Tracy smiled. "A few times."

Kitty handed her the clipboard. "Then you already know that you need to fill these out. There are chairs right over there. When you're done bring the forms back here, and we'll get started."

Nodding, Tracy rolled up the flapping sleeves of her oversized black jacket and accepted the clipboard. While she bent over the familiar pink and yellow forms, Pretty Kitty slid her biology textbook to the side and picked up the phone dialing a number she knew by heart.

"Hello, Ms. Winter. We're about to get a deposit from our favorite client. Would you like to stop by or should I have The Blue One pick it up for you?"

It wasn't until he'd had a good five minutes of utter panic that Virgil realized his arms had not, as previously feared, fallen off in the middle of the night. After shaking the sleep from his head, and pushing away the lingering feelings of unease and fear that had surfaced in his dreams he realized that he'd fallen asleep with his head pillowed on his folded arms and they'd gone numb as a result.

"You have a Sweet'N Low wrapper stuck to your forehead."

Startled, Virgil looked up to see Jenny, the redheaded woman he'd seen following Dr. Kumar standing in front of him.

"What?" he mumbled, disoriented from his awakening and distracted by his unfeeling appendages.

"On your forehead," Jenny said motioning to her own. "There's an empty package of Sweet'N Low stuck to it. You must have slept on it or something."

Virgil moved to brush it off and found he couldn't.

"Could you maybe take care of that?" he asked with embarrassment. "I'm a little off my game right now."

"Arms fall asleep on you?" the young woman asked.

"Yeah. What time is it?"

Leaning across the table Virgil had chosen as his temporary bed, she plucked the bright pink wrapper off of the teenager's head, shoving it into her pocket.

"That happens to me a lot too. Annoying as hell. It's almost eleven."

Nodding, Virgil flexed his fingers wincing at the sharp pins and needles that felt as though they were about to shoot through his skin.

"All better?" Jenny asked with a tired smile.

"Yeah," Virgil answered. "I'm fine now."

"Good, because Dr. Kumar wants to see you."

Virgil glanced around the room until he spotted the doctor pouring herself a cup of coffee and yawning.

Virgil swallowed. "Is everything alright?"

Rubbing her own sleep filled eyes, Jenny shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. You'll have to talk to her."

Three knots tied in his stomach as Virgil crossed the room. Crossing his arms over his chest, he took a deep breath, ready to face the news.

"Good morning Static," Dr. Kumar greeted, sipping her hot coffee. "Do you want a cup?"

"Is that every adult's solution to a problem?" Virgil responded in exasperation. "A cup of coffee?"

The Indian woman looked amused. "Of course not. Sometimes we drink hard liquor, but you're too young for that."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Is Ritchie ok?"

Pouring a package of sugar into her cup, Dr. Kumar swirled the drink around before taking a long pull of the hot liquid.

"Your friend is stable, the fever broke sometime last night. He's as weak as a small kitten, but physically he'll be fine in a few days. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to question him on exactly how much he remembers about anything or anyone. We probably won't even know the full extent until he starts walking around and discovers he can't remember how many quarters go into a dollar."

Virgil must have looked distressed, because her expression softened the tiniest bit.

"Though whether that will happen or not is still unknown," she added. "However, we can make sure he at least knows who certain people and places are, and since he's finally awake I want you to go in there and talk to him."

Virgil felt as if every muscle in his body had suddenly loosened up. "He's awake."

"Yes, yes awake," Dr. Kumar said impatiently. "But we still don't know what kind of memory damage we're looking at." Putting her cup down on the counter, Dr. Kumar wiped her hands off on her coat and started towards the doors. "Now follow me."

The hallway behind the double doors was lined with clear plexiglass windows, each one looking into a variety of different rooms. The ones up front seemed to be filled with pieces of expensive looking lab equipment, and Virgil caught sight of Dr. Cruz flanked by Ankit leaning over a microscope in one of them. Other rooms were filled with even more examples of green foliage, and one had what looked to be cages of white mice. The last three rooms at the end of the hall each held a bed, each room ready for a patient. Ritchie was at the very last one at the end of the hall.

"Both Dr. Cruz and I have already checked on him," Dr. Kumar said. "So you'll go in alone. Don't tire him, because he's going to tire easily right now. Don't shake him up, but get as much information as you can. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Virgil answered, the knots in his stomach retying themselves into shapes any Boy Scout would have been proud of.

"Good." Turning the doorknob she motioned for Virgil to enter.

Ritchie was lying underneath a good deal of blankets, an IV needled into his arm. He looked paler than Virgil had ever seen him, the darkening bruise across his jaw an ugly contrast. The rope burns on his wrists were pink and angry under the lights, and his fingers twitched a bit as Virgil watched. Ritchie's eyes were closed, and at first Virgil was afraid he was still asleep, that Dr. Kumar had been wrong. Sliding into the chair that someone had left next to the bed, Virgil rested his elbows on his knees, his hands running through his hair. He felt like he was two steps away from a nervous breakdown. Thankfully, he raised his head to find Ritchie looking back at him.

"Hey Virgil," he said, his voice weak and scratchy.

"Hey Ritch. How ya feeling?"

"Cold," the other boy answered. "Tired, and really cold."

Virgil moved to stand. "Do you want me to find another blanket?"

"Naw. S'ok."

Virgil nodded and leaned back in his chair.

"Hey Virgil."

"Yeah man?"

"Where the hell are we?"