Title: Scenes of Other Worlds
Author: Cypher
Fandom: Static Shock (of course)
Summary: What if the Big Bang never happened? What if super heroes weren't the norm?
Spoilers: Minor ones for Future Shock
Rating: R, for mature scenes in some worlds
Warnings: This chapter, minor character death and angst. Unbetaed.
Disclaimer: I don't own Static Shock, DC (or some subsidiary of it) does. I'm just borrowing the characters and settings to flex my creative muscles.
Distribution: Ask and thy shall recieve.
Author's Notes: Can't have a Richie is wealthy world without a Virgil is wealthy world. Equal and opposites, yadda yadda. Not quite sure how this one came out, but it had to be done. I promise, next chapter is less angst and more fun. Enjoy!

Virgil stared out the bedroom window of his apartment, wondering what it'd be like to be normal, be common. He used to be, but all that changed years ago, and now he was anything but. Even after all this time, he was changed--he tried not to, but there was no denying that his father's words were in the back of his mind, nagging him, giving him doubts. If he was normal, he probably wouldn't have these problems, or at least not to the extent he had them now.

He sighed. Sometimes he hated being rich.

The Hawkins' hadn't always been wealthy. It wasn't until the Dakota Riots that they had come into money. Alva Industries had awarded generous reparations to any families that had lost someone braving the riots to bring peace. It'd knocked him out of his neighborhood, out of his class, and out of his life. It'd been great, at first. New opportunities, new friends, new cooking--a MAJOR plus considering his sister's talents--new everything.

It was all fake. Money didn't fill voids, it just made life a little easier. His last years of high school had been great in some respects, but despite all the pictures that showed him smiling, laughing…he had actually been miserable. Money didn't help him deal with the loss of his mom, didn't help him handle the false friends and girlfriends that only cared about his status. At least poor he had REAL friends.

That's why he'd left after graduation for a couple months to tour Africa. He figured maybe finding his racial roots would help him find himself. He wasn't just miserable, he was lost. He didn't know who he was, or where he was going. Pops had made enough investments that neither he nor Sharon really needed to do any hard work. The Hawkins could retire to a life of leisure.

Except Pops was still working with the Community Center, and Sharon was going to graduate school for a professional degree in child psychology. And here he was…directionless. He'd been in college for years, and was no closer to graduating at twenty-five than he had at twenty-three. He was the lazy Hawkins, the one that lived off the fortune and did nothing to improve the city that had given him the splendor.

Then there was the whole gay thing. He hadn't found everything that he was looking for in his ancestor's homeland, but he had figured out that much about himself. Producing an 'heir' for the money was no problem, since Sharon was now married to some musician. Stringer or something, he didn't really care. Just the fact that he'd come out still made him more of a black sheep. Not to mention his somewhat high profile status in Dakota made dating relatively difficult. And like friends, everyone that was interested in him seemed only after the money or the position. No one saw him for him.

But how could they, when he didn't even know who he was himself?

After he returned from Africa and dropped the bomb, he'd gone to college, as was expected of him. No major, he just went to a few classes per semester, slowly filling out his general education requirements. He was vaguely interested in sciences, even had a bit of a knack for it, but nothing captured his attention, nothing jumped out at him. Until his third year, when he took a simple physics course.

It was the first class he had actually enjoyed, but it wasn't just the material. There was a teaching assistant, a kid his age that was majoring in quantum physics and helping out in the lower courses. The guy had jumped a grade or something, but also had to work like crazy to make it. The blond had struck him as familiar, and it wasn't until he visited Sharon and her then fiance that he knew why: the guy was also a butler.

Well, butler, chef, all around assistant. The guy--Richie--had a multitude of jobs, as it turned out. All to pay for college, because the man's parents refused to pay for an education. They barely interacted at first, and Virgil actually kept a distance after Stringer fired Richie--he'd never gotten the full story, but he had found from his Pops that it had to do with a fight between Sharon and the musician.

After a while, he offered the blond a job. Not that he had a lot of things that needed doing, but he did tend to miss bill due dates, and it'd be nice to have someone check his homework, plus…the guy was cute. Okay, okay, so he had a little crush on the geeky man. But really, who could resist such an endearing smile, such sharp wit?

The really odd bit, though, was that Richie never treated him as a boss, or a student, or as anything other than an equal. The guy always spoke his mind, gave his opinion, and they'd even had their share of fights. Virgil could never fire the blond, though, usually because their fights revolved around him being an ass and Rich trying to put him in his place.

He could never bring himself to admit his feelings or hit on the guy, either. Apart from the ethics, there was the whole sexual harassment thing where Rich could sue him for every penny his family had. Yet one night, after a particularly grueling midterm, the two of them returned to his place, and got smashed. The entire evening was a blur, but the next morning, he had awoken in Rich's arms.

And he'd never been happier.

Granted, he remembered nothing between opening the beer and waking up in bed, but at least his feelings would be known now. He'd fallen back asleep, still secure in the blond's pale embrace. When he awoke again, though, it was to an empty bed, and a frantic geek cleaning up. When he'd called to Rich, the man froze, and the fear, the regret in those blue eyes had twisted Virgil's heart.

Rich was so sure he would either hate what happened, or would think it was a blackmail scheme, or something just as bad. He'd pointed out it took two to tango, and a drunken roll in the hay was hardly damning. Still, Richie went about cleaning, gathering belongings and obviously trying to resign. Virgil had put a stop to that quickly enough, pinning the smaller man to the wall and planting mind-shattering kiss on the already swollen lips.

About two minutes later the two of them were heaving over the toilet. Not quite how he'd wanted to bond with the beauty of his dreams, but they HAD drunk enough to forget last night. It also apparently hadn't been Rich's first trip over the toilet, as alcohol and vomit already permeated the atmosphere of the tiled room. Between heaving bouts, though, he'd managed to convey that he had…feelings…for Rich. And Richie had managed to convey the same back…right before losing what appeared to be the rest of the pizza from the night's dinner.

Not the best getting together moment in history, but hell, they got together, and that was the important thing.

Life took a much more…complicated turn after that. Pops could…tolerate his being gay, but while not a racist, it was obvious his father was very uncomfortable with Virgil having a white lover. He hadn't even realized what elitists they'd become until Sharon had brought up that Richie was of 'lower class.' Virgil didn't care that Richie was from his old hood, but they apparently did.

So he very politely told them to get off his back and live with it. He LIKED Richie, really liked the guy, and he'd be damned if his family was going to chase the one man he'd felt a connection with away. Richie didn't care about class, or that he had money or any of that. The blond made him feel alive, helped center him in a way that he hadn't been since his mom died. He wasn't going to lose that, not after he'd been searching for it for so long.

He didn't know if it was what he said, or if they warmed up to Richie, or what, but they eventually accepted the fair-skinned man into their lives. Pops had them over every few weeks, and Sharon and Stringer loved having Rich baby-sit their new child. They weren't exactly enthusiastic, but they let Virgil have his fun and dealt with it as well as they could. Secretly, he thought it was because they saw him as the baby of the family.

Despite those events, though, he hadn't found everything.

He had a major now, electrical engineering. It'd taken him a while, but Rich had nudged him in that direction, and he admitted to himself that he enjoyed the studies. Money wasn't a factor, and though Richie refused to take a dime from him, the blond was doing better financially. They lived together, they slept together, the world SHOULD be perfect, so why didn't he feel…right?

He'd never discussed these feelings with his lover, even though he knew he should. Hell, Rich was about as bright as they came. Virgil was stumped, but his friend might know the answer. The problem was, he wasn't sure he'd LIKE the answer. He had a feeling if he really thought about it, the answer would be obvious, but he didn't want to think about it. He just wanted the feeling…gone.

Later, lying in bed with nothing but boxers, Virgil felt a chilled hand run over his abdomen. "You should be asleep, Virg."

"I was waiting for ya." He tried to smile, but it felt like he failed.

"Liar," the voice wasn't harsh or accusing, merely an observation. A kiss was placed on his shoulder. "Tell me what's wrong, V."

"Nothing-"

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I…I don't know."

"You do."

"I DON'T, Rich!"

"You're dense, Virg, not stupid." He was pushed onto his back as Richie straddled him, leaning into his face, eyes piercing him as if they were scanning his soul. "Something's been bothering you a while, and you won't talk about it."

"I don't want to-"

"Liar." It was the same quiet tone.

"Don't call me that! You don't know what goes on in my head!"

"But I know what goes on in here, V." A finger traced a small circle over his left breast.

Virgil turned his head away, trying to hide from the intense blue gaze. "I…I don't know what it is."

Richie remained silent for a minute, a hand resting over his heart. Eventually, the other hand reached up and tilted Virgil's head back to face his lover. "You never talk about her."

"Rich-"

"I can't remember a time any of you have talked about her. Have you…do you even think about her?"

"Of course I do!" He felt his chest constrict a little, as if the words had pinched a nerve.

"Tell me about her."

"I don't remember-"

"You weren't that young-"

"Knock it off, Rich! Psychology is Sharon's gig!"

"You'd never let Sharon get so close to you." Richie laid down on him, fingers tangling in his hair. "She doesn't see the pain. You don't let either of them see it, do you. Only me, and you tried to hide it."

"But I can't hide anything from you," Virgil muttered.

"No, you can't." A chaste kiss against his chin. "She died doing what she loved."

"I know."

"She was trying to save lives."

A burning sensation was building in his chest, one that was vaguely familiar. He tried to suppress it, but tonight…something was stopping him from succeeding. Richie was stopping him. "She did."

"Her death brought you to a better life-"

The burning grew stronger. "I'd give it all up."

"She loved you."

The thin barricade left between the fire inside him and the real world shattered at Richie's words. "Then why'd she go out that night?! She knew it was hell out there and she LEFT!" He shoved Richie off him and sat up, glaring at him. "She LEFT us! She promised she'd be back and she NEVER came back! She broke her promise to us!" He felt something warm and wet slide down his cheeks. "She broke her promise to…to me. She left me…" He'd never heard his voice so…young, weak.

Richie reached over and wiped some of his tears away. "You're angry with her."

"She promised she'd come back."

"And she didn't."

"She had no right…" He rubbed his eyes with his palms. "God, what'm I saying. She's DEAD! I can't be angry at her!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's wrong! She died saving lives! She died trying to help innocent people! She died-"

"And broke her promise to you."

He shuddered as the wind was knocked out of him by Richie's quiet tone. "I don't wanna be angry, Rich. I love her." His lover opened his arms, and Virgil quietly shifted himself so that he could be held by the blond. "I have no right to be angry."

"You have every right, V. You're her son."

"That makes it worse. That makes ME worse!"

Richie's lips brushed against his temple. "No, V. That just makes you human."