A/N: WARNING: this piece contains SLASH. Don't like it DON'T READ IT!.
This was Rena's and my first post for the challenges at http/community. . If you want to see the great Fanarts Rena drew for the story check out our livejournal (URL in my bio)
Also, this story is mostly unbetaed, so there might be some small typos or grammar mistakes since English isn't my native language.
And now on to the story:
It had to be – there just wasn't any other explanation.
"Virgil, I really doubt that there is a god of BangBabies, or that some such god would have it in for you." Richie commented, absently taking notes - Or inventing a new AI-program for Backpack. Ever since Rich had invented his own version of shorthand one couldn't be sure anymore.
Virgil huffed. What did his friend know? He was still sure he was right. Only the involvement of a higher power with a truly perverse sense of humour could be responsible for their current situation. Never mind such things like logic.
"Does it really bother you that much to do that with me instead of some random girl?" Richie asked, pulling Virgil out of his dark thoughts. Looking over Virgil found himself faced with a shy/sad/disappointed/angry look from his partner.
Wasn't it fascinating that Richie could manage to relay so many emotions with one look?
Virgil felt a pang of sudden unease in the area of his stomach. He hated such a look on Richie's face and he hated even more to be the one to put it there. Hurting Richie's feeling was high on the list of things to avoid at all costs.
"Nah," Virgil hurried to reassure his friend, "it's not that. It's just that… you know… the rumours about us are bad enough as it is. I would prefer us both surviving high school. It's would be… you know, irony if we survive daily fighting with freaked out freaks but get killed by homophobic jocks."
Richie sighed and turned his look away. Virgil observed him while worrying his bottom-lip between his teeth. Logic was normally the best way to get Richie to agree to things – even if it was crack-logic.
Virgil was very good of warping logic to his advantage – at least according to Richie.
But as soon as Richie felt hurt he pouted and all bets were off.
He wasn't obvious about it, but a master at making everybody around him feel guilty without anyone realizing that Richie was actually doing it.
Even knowing that he was doing it, Virgil couldn't stop from being totally helpless against that tactic.
Casting a quick look around to make sure no said jock or other idiot was looking, Virgil grabbed Richie's hand under the desk.
Richie turned towards Virgil, still looking sad.
"I hate hiding that. We already hide so much about us."
"I know." Virgil agreed quietly.
It was stupid, really.
All that angst because of the annual HomeEd project.
Because there weren't enough girls in their class two boys had to be paired up as 'family' and would work together for a week to take care of a 'baby'.
Just how did they expect them to 'take care' of a glorified doll and still keep their superhero schedule?
Day 1
Virgil
He wants to name the thing. Name it! It is a piece of plastic with electronics in it that look like transported out of the Stone Age compared to Backpack. And he wants to name it! Says it is part of the project that we play act as if it was really a baby and we were really a family.
It's still a lump of plastic. An ugly lump of plastic that has the nasty habit of crying. It sounds like a very bad recording being played by a broken stereo.
The only good thing of this is that we have another excuse why Richie should stay over. We were starting to run out of explanations.
I think Pops suspects something.
Richie has found the Baby-name book Mum bought when she was expecting Sharon. Now he wants to discuss names.
He can name the thing whatever he wants. I'm not even sure if it is supposed to be male or female.
Oh, he says we get to decide. Great.
No Rich, I don't care if we have a daughter or a son – that thing isn't a real child. It's an act. A stupid one, too.
I could care less for this project even if it is half of our grade for HomeEd. But it seems to be important to Richie – heaven only knows why. So I'll play along. For now.
Roderick is a very stupid name, Richie.
And it is still only a piece of plastic. Which is crying again.
This week is going to be hell - I just feel it.
Richie
Virgil is being an idiot. He refuses to cooperate with the project. I should have seen it when I saw his reaction in school.
Virgil doesn't take this serious. He thinks it is all a very unpleasant and embarrassing affair that should be treated more like a joke than anything else.
I admit it is moderatly embarrising and somehow stupid but it is also a nice dream to have a family with Virgil sometime in the future. Raising children together.
Allegedly Virgil will have a son in the future.
Will it be with some, still unknown girl or will that child have two fathers?
I would love it if this dream comes true.
Now I'll just have to think of way to make Virgil cooperate more. I most certainly won't be doing all the work. And if my beloved boyfriend doesn't stop acting like this the dream will never come true because I personally will make sure that he will never have children.
Is Roderick truly such a stupid name?
Day 2
Virgil
One day down, six more to go. And Richie is acting more strange by the minute and Pops is no help at all. He thinks the project would be a great way to teach me some responsibility for others.
Why do I get the feeling that my Pops and me haven't been on the same page for a long time? Sometimes I get the feeling we aren't even in the same book anymore.
It could be worse. At least he hasn't said anything about me doing this project together with Richie.
Sharon by the way thinks the whole thing is hilarious. And she refuses to baby-sit.
The Thing is crying again but it is Richie's turn to see what it wants now. Whoever created those things was way too creative, you know. We have to feed it and it does the natural thing with the food.
If I hadn't seen Richie's look of absolute distaste and revulsion the first time he had diaper duty, I would think my dear friend had upgraded the damn thing.
After a long discussion and my realisation that I would never inflict Richie's taste in baby-names on any child of ours we came to a compromise. He would call that doll Jesse and I would call it The Thing – just not where he can hear it.
I feel totally stupid having to act as if The Thing was a real baby. It kinda reminds me of the times when Sharon tried to force me to play with her when we were both much younger. Now my dear sister is laughing her ass off whenever she sees me with the doll in my arms.
But I zapped her camera when she tried to take a picture.
We survived our first day in school as parents. We got the usual ribbing and Richie kicked a jock who got a bit too obtrusive. Go Rich!
All things considered the whole situation wouldn't have been so bad at all. It could even have been particular nice – with Richie staying the night and all – but of course something had to go wrong.
Thing cried the whole night.
Dad said that I did the same to him and Mum.
I don't think I want to have children anymore.
Richie
Virgil is in a mood. Tough shit - so am I. He absolutely refuses to take the project serious. Can't he do me the favour and play along?
Apparently not.
Mr H is great about it all. He even gave me those little booklets for new parents he has at the centre. They'll make a great addition to the report we have to write.
Jesse is crying again.
Of course I know that Jesse isn't real, but it's kinda nice to pretend. Not the teenaged parents thing but the being a family with Virgil thing. Even if he acts like a asshole at the moment.
He doesn't understand. He just wants the project to be over with.
Considering how uncomfortable he looks every time he has to hold Jesse one might think that it is bomb and not a high-tech-doll.
School was a nightmare. I can deal with the comments and the ribbing; I had enough time an practise to develop selective hearing when it comes to some such things. Then one of those brain-amputated sport-obsessed Neanderthals grabbed my ass while giving off a comment I won't repeat here. Talk about repressed.
Only one person is allowed to grope me, so I made myself understood in a language this idiot was going to understand. And while at it, I made sure that he wouldn't pass on his stupidity onto the next generation.
Go me!
The biggest problem to date was setting up a schedule for our alter egos. Someone has to stay with Jesse all the time, take care of him. But at the same time we really can't abandon the city to the whims of the not-so-considerate BangBabies.
For the time being Static and Gear won't go out patrolling together.
Virgil has grumbled about that, too.
I think Virgil's mood might have been better, if Jesse wouldn't have destroyed his plans for last night.
I don't care.
Well, I got to admit, his plans sounded kind off nice and promising. But I'm still mad at him for acting like an idiot to care. Much.
Calling Jesse Thing. Really. For that alone I should have him take diaper duty for the rest of the project. Would give me time to investigate just how Jesse manages to convert ordinary food into toxic waste.
Day 3
Virgil
I have much first hand experience with sibling rivalry. Sharon and me have raised our fights to an art-from. But this goes beyond any experience I could have had.
Backpack is jealous of Thing. If it weren't so unbelievable and disturbing it would have been pretty funny. But I can sympathise – Richie is spending way too much time focused on The Thing. At least Backpack, even in his earliest incarnations, was useful. Weird, but useful.
Thing is just annoying.
So, now Backpack is jealous. And moping. Have you ever seen a robot moping? I neither, and truthfully, I wouldn't have thought it possible.
First, Backpack watched and analysed Thing like it was some particular disgusting specimen of a bug. He obviously came to the same conclusion as me – that Thing wasn't useful in any manner – because the next thing we catch Backpack trying to drag Thing – which was crying once again – to the garbage can outside the station.
Richie was not amused. He isn't really talking to me at the moment anyway, but I think he really is mad about me laughing instead of rescuing his precious Thing. I would have – after taking a few photos.
So now my boyfriend is mad at me and my boyfriend's robot is mad at him. Backpack being mad at Richie – and wouldn't the assorted members of the JLA be surprised at the level of consciousness the little guy has? – expresses itself by him actually acting like a robot towards him. I never realized the difference until Backpack turned into the perfect, soulless machine. It's rather scary.
I'm starting to wonder whatever we'll do if Backpack acts like this when Richie and me really have a child. Hopefully, until then Richie will have wrote a program that'll make Backpack share his 'parents'.
And just when did I become adoptive parent to a robot?
Still five days to go. Isn't this supposed to teach us about family and partnership? All it's teaching me is that family is just another name for hell. If things go as they have I won't have a partner next week anymore – either in the superhero nor the domestic sense.
Richie
Can somebody please tell me why I fell in love with a certain Virgil Hawkins? He is acting like an irresponsible, snotty, thoughtless, reckless, immature, insensitive Teenager. I really thought he had outgrown that phase, but apparently I was wrong – It happens. Even super-geniuses sometimes err. My relationship with Mr Tactless over there is the best example.
Laugh at me, will you? Laugh while my robot tries to kidnap Jesse.
Virgil will be very lonely at night for the foreseeable future. And as soon as I have the time Backpack will be reprogrammed thoroughly.
Don't think I don't hear you Virgil when you call Jesse Thing. Do you really think I don't notice you extending your patrol around the city so you won't have to take care of Jesse? I really should write your crappy behaviour down for the official diary. That is such a clichéd and outdated way to act.
Funny, how I with my upbringing managed to join the twenty-first century role-expectations before you, my friend.
I think when it's my turn to patrol later – you wouldn't believe how hard I had to fight with Virgil about that – I'm making a detour to talk with Mum. Perhaps she has some advice. After all, she should have enough experience in dealing with live partners who are acting like idiots.
I hate fighting with Virgil. It makes me feel bad but I am not relenting on this point. He has to apologise this time – and mean it. Now, this fact has just to sink into his sick skull.
And for the duration: Ice cream.
Ice cream makes everything easier. Even dealing with stupid boyfriends.
Day 4
Virgil
Today Hotstreak did something truly laudable for the first and most likely only time in his life: He stole Thing.
If it weren't a given that Richie would do me bodily harm I would be laughing at the moment. Poor, poor Francis.
It's just something so terrible stupid that only Hotstreak could do it.
Richie of course is beside himself with worry and currently in his scarred-therefore-obsessive moods, flittering around the gas station and developing and disregarding plans faster than I can keep up with.
It all started with a particular stupid idea: a family outing. Today is Saturday and Richie broke the icy silence he had inflicted on me for a moment to propose that we should go out. Of course he didn't mean go to arcade or the movie theatre and of course we had to take Thing with us.
I feel like a total idiot lugging that doll around but refusing would have meant Richie being even madder at me and that is something I would like to avoid if at all possible.
So I let myself be dragged into the park. We walked around the park, Richie carrying Thing on his arms and neither of us saying anything. It could have been worse; we might have met somebody we knew.
At the point where the silence between us became nearly unbearable, a much-needed distraction occurred: Bang-Baby attack! I think this was the first time ever I was happy to see this bunch of idiots making trouble.
Anyway: entrance Static and Gear. While Static took care of the gang his supposed partner would return to the bench were he left Thing ever so often to make sure no one would steal it.
Really, only a complete idiot would even consider stealing a constantly crying piece of plastic.
Enter Hotstreak.
Dear Francis must have been observing the fight, because he sure as hell wasn't part of it. He probably noticed Gear constantly checking up on this suspicious little bundle and deduced that it was something valuable.
While Gear was doing what he was supposed to do – helping me – Hotstreak approached Thing, which was for once silent, and grabbed it. Gear noticed it a few moments later and took off after him, leaving me to deal with the guys we had been fighting in the first place.
About twenty minutes later he called on the Shock-Vox in a complete panic telling me that Hotstreak had gotten away from him – with Thing.
Since then we have been searching. I still think that Hotstreak will return Thing the moment he realises what he has stolen. If he doesn't dumb it in the next available garbage can. In which case we would most likely fail the project and Richie might never talk to me again.
I think I just realised again why I hate Hotstreak.
Hotstreak
What – Is – That?
Richie
Jesse got kidnapped today. By Hotstreak of all people. If he hurts Jesse I will not be responsible for my actions. And if Virgil doesn't start showing at least a little bit concern he just might be my practise victim.
I never should have left Jesse alone. Not for something so frivolous like kicking the butt of some new and high-spirited (in a very literal sense probably) Bang-Babies. Virgil would have been perfectly capable to deal with them on his own. But I have to admit that I wanted to fight.
And now Jesse has been stolen.
We are going to fail the project. How do you explain to the teacher that a mentally challenged bully and Bang-Baby kidnapped your 'Baby'?
I can forget my grade in HomeEd.
Hotstreak is toast. Even if I have to invent a new way to kick his ass – he is history.
At least Virgil isn't looking as if he was dying to laugh anymore. He might just have realized what it would mean to fail such a simple project.
Day 5
Virgil
Thing is back. I knew that Hotsteak would try to get rid of it as soon as he realised what he had stolen. A good thing too, because I don't think I would have been able to stand Richie in mourning over a doll.
Rich proved once again that he is a genius because he created a tracking device especially for finding Hotstreak.
Hotsteak is back in prison. He apparently gave himself up after Richie had a discussion with him. At least that's what I heard this morning in the news. I had left Francis to his confrontation with Richie not wanting to draw my partner's ire towards me. My partner can be seriously scary when he is worried.
Go Richie!
Richie is still mad at me by the way. I really shouldn't have laughed at Francis' predicament, but it was either that or feel sorry for him – something I don't intend to do anytime soon.
At least Richie isn't here at the moment to make me feel his disapproval. He is at home, spending some time with his family. It is Sunday after all. The bad thing is, that a) Richie isn't here which means b) I have to take care of Thing alone.
I feel a tad panicked, apart from feeling like an utter idiot. Sharon still hasn't stopped laughing about the whole affair even through Pops is giving her The Look. The disapproving, slightly disappointed and guilt inducing look of his. The one that is usually aimed at me.
Did I mention that Pops is on Richie's side in this fight? We had a long talk yesterday evening after Richie went home. He thinks I am lucky that my 'child' is at least somewhat looking like a baby. Apparently he and his partner had to do this whole production with an egg.
Somehow I don't feel lucky.
Okay, I have to admit that once I got over feeling stupid and actually letting myself pretend that Thing was real and named Jesse (which was about twenty minutes after Sharon had left for the rest of the day) and that I wasn't mental for taking care of him, it wasn't that bad. Actually it was somewhat fun – diaper changing excluded of course.
After realising this, I had another talk with Pops. One of those sentimental father-son talks I usually do my best to avoid. If I could have I would have avoided that one, too.
Bottom line: I sometimes act as if I had the emotional maturity of breakfast cereal. I already knew that – after all Richie was never shy to let me know what kind of idiot I am. So tomorrow, when I see him at school I'm going to tell him that he was once again right and apologise.
Again.
I have to do it way too often.
Jesse is making noises again – probably producing the next attack of poison gas via his diaper.
Richie
Went home yesterday evening after getting Jesse back in one piece and telling Hotstreak exactly what I thought this undertaking of his. Really, the nerve of that guy.
Virgil proved himself a coward and left! At least he took Jesse with him. I heard on the news this morning that Francis gave himself up to the police after I left him. He said that he was safer in prison than outside.
Whatever gave him that idea?
Dad was making noises that I was spending more time at Virgil's then at home. He only noticed that now? Mr H stopped commenting on this three years ago.
Perhaps I should be happy that he noticed at all.
The family Sunday went better than it could have. Dad made no derogative comments about Virgil and we actually had a conversation. Kind of. Of course he had to ask me about potential girlfriends in that macho-way of his but Mum somehow managed to change the subject pretty fast.
I think Mum might suspect something.
Had a talk with Mum (without Dad) about the project. I am very sure that Mum is beyond suspecting and in the realm of knowing already.
Among other things (some parts of this conversation I will have to decode later) she told me about Dad and his reactions to me when Mum came home with me from the hospital. Apparently my manly father didn't now what to do with a small, fragile baby. So he left Mum with all the work. Until Mum left him alone with me for a day.
After that he was still leaving Mum with most of the work but he wasn't acting as if a baby was a bomb waiting to go off.
So there is still hope for Virgil apparently.
Day 6
Virgil
Only two days of this damn project left. Hallelujah!
School today was bearable somewhat. I managed to stutter out an apology to Richie under his best death glare and now he is at least talking to me again.
Listening to Daisy and Frieda bitch about their partners being total males was fun, too. And weird, considering that they don't seem to count Richie and me in that category. Apparently the girls' partners thought it absolute okay to leave them with the 'babies' and take off. After all, they are the women.
This conversation led me to apologise to my partner all over again.
This afternoon we want to meet and discuss what to write into our report. The thing must contain not only our experiences with the 'baby' but also how we managed as a family. Who took what kind of responsibility and what duty and all that crap.
Daisy and Frieda are already planning to protest against it.
Richie and me decided to be as honest as possible with the report – including all problems we had with each other and Jesse.
Richie has given up on his plan to take Backpack apart and reprogram him, by the way. After all the little guy has given up on trying to destroy the 'baby' and is now protecting it. It might have something to do with me explaining to him that the doll would only stay with us for a week and then we would be alone again. Thankfully.
In two days the project is over and everything will be back to its semi-normal status.
And I'll have another few years before I have to seriously worry about the implications of Richie and family in the same sentence.
Richie
Monday.
A wise person (or was it a cat) once said that Mondays are the worst days of the week. I'm not really sure that I agree.
Virgil had some kind of epiphany over the weekend apparently and apologised to me today. Then he had another revelation during lunch and apologised again.
Wow. Twice in one day.
There is definitely hope for my partner.
Frieda and Daisy are on a feminist-trip. It wouldn't be so bad if Virgil and me hadn't somehow gotten included onto the female side of this planned campaign. I still haven't deciphered the logic behind that.
Backpack is acting semi-normal again, thankfully. I really didn't want the work of reprogramming him again. The time after the Brainiac incident was bad enough. Actually Backpack has somehow gone straight into the other extreme and is now seriously overprotective of Jesse.
I really, really hope that no one of the JLA will find out about the little independent learning program I have included into Backpacks programming this time around. They are rather leery towards sentient AI's.
At least I haven't included a subroutine about procreation. Yet.
Day 7
Virgil
Last day of the horror that is known as the HomeEd project. Rich and me got together and wrote the report yesterday afternoon and are now more or less eagerly awaiting tomorrows lesson.
The report was interesting. Writing down what we learned and what we expected and if we wanted to kill our partner at any stage of the project.
Have I ever mentioned that our HomeEd teacher is a founding member of a rather militant women's-rights movement? Some of the questions we had to answer for the report reflect on that.
Which is also why I am wondering just what exactly Daisy and Frieda are planning to protest against.
Thinking up a possible future was fun, too. Who would have what kind of job and all this. Rich of course would either have an insanely well-paid job at the research department of WayneCorp or he would live off the money his patents were making. Come to think about it, he could do that already.
Me? I think I'll be a kept man. Either that or I might have to give up being Static since I'm nowhere near as skilled in multitasking as my boyfriend is.
I just realised that this means that I am going to be the official stay-at-home-dad and Richie will be the one to go to work in the mornings and have a great career.
Scary thoughts.
Richie
It is nearly over. Don't really know how to feel about that. At least Virgil and me haven't split up because of the project.
Some of the questions for the report were rather scary. More so because we could actually answer them. I'm getting curious about what our dear teacher will have to say about the project next week.
Discussing finances wasn't fun at all. I don't like to think about the fact that my patents already earn me more money per month then my father earns per year. And that my parents don't really know about it.
On the other hand, Virgil's look when he realized who would be the one to stay at home most likely was priceless.
Revenge is sweet – even through he didn't look nearly as disturbed as I would have expected.
I think I might actually miss Jesse when this is all over tomorrow. On the other hand - no. I think I'll be able to repress my biological imperative to procreate for several years yet.
And then, without Jesse, Virgil and me will finally have an undisturbed night together again.
Which is a very good thing, by the way.
One week later
All reports on the project had been submitted and the data evaluated. Today was the great day of their beloved HomeEd teacher telling them exactly how much they had been supposed to learn and what they really had learned.
The difference was astonishing sometimes.
Richie and Virgil had once again taken their seats in the last row of the room, hidden from most curious looks and mostly out of the immediate line of sight of their teacher.
Frieda's and Daisy's little awareness campaign concerning women's rights in marriage had been put to rest last Monday when they found a new injustice to fight. Both boys were rather thankful for this small mercy.
The teacher breezed in, a big pack of computer printouts under her arm.
"Good morning class!" she offered brightly, getting more or less enthusiastic responses. She didn't care.
"First of all I would like to say that most of you did great with the project. Some went at it with certainly antiquated opinions but most of you did great.
Most of all our little unconventional pairing…"
There were rude snickers around the room – mostly from the male fraction but a few girls joint in, too – and Richie and Virgil looked at each other with a sinking feeling. Actually both were considering hiding somehow.
The teacher went on, ignoring her pupil's reactions:
"…You proved great imagination when you described your possible future family live as well as splitting the responsibilities for your 'baby' during the project…"
Somewhere in the room someone made a rather rude comment about queers. Virgil was seriously considering using his powers to activate the fire alarm. Going by the look Richie was giving him the other boy wouldn't have minded at all.
And still their teacher went on. Not that either of the boys really listened. They were too busy being mortified by all the sudden attention.
"… you would make a great family." The teacher finally ended, smiling brightly.
Virgil and Richie looked at each other then at their teacher.
You could find people with delusions everywhere.