Psycho Chan's Note: Someday I'm gonna make Twitter Chan type instead of me. That girl cannot finish anything. At all! GAH! I mean…really…it's old…really old…I'm old*cries* All my friends are in high school yet! Man that sucks. Oh well, I get to watch Static Shock cuz it's on at 2pm and school lets out at 3:15. Hahahaaha! Sucks to be them.
Oh…HotStreak's kinda racy in this story too, but that get's explained later. Just to let you readers know. So…now you know…And he's outta character. But that's because he's the newfound uke…so he's gotta play the part…eventually.
Oh Yeah I Remember Note: This story was requested/suggested by StarStorm991
Thank you so much!
Chapter Two: Static's Hell in Many, Many Ways
The red head figured that he was in trouble when he shrank. Because of The Joker, Francis was smaller. He looked younger, the only thing indicating he was a teenager was the goatee he still had, which is microscopic compared to his last one. The man wondered into a clothes store, changing into clothes he liked and fit, he simply walked out of the place. Only shortly after, he crossed paths with a group of people he had wronged not too long ago.
At the moment, HotStreak hides behind a fruit stand outside of another store. Those men had recognized him and easily overpowered him, beating him senseless. The exhausted teen stays quiet, Static and Gear were only a few feet away from him and were talking to a woman with her two children, one three and the other no older than five. Francis could easily tell she was worried by the tone of her voice as she spoke to the heroes. He just listened to them talk, holding his side as blood soaked his shirt.
"So did you get a good look at the kid that they were targeting?" Gear questions having already put the crooks in custody.
"No. He ran off right before you arrived." The woman shakes her head, her long black hair following in a slow motion.
"So you have no clue where he went?"
"I honestly did not see where he went to." She looks down to her children, thankful they're alright. "But he looked real rough…"
"How bad?" Gear asks, Static by his side, looking around.
"I didn't get much of a look but one of the men had stabbed him…" The mother's eyes cloud with worry. She couldn't imagine if it were one of her kids. "He really should be brought into the hospital…"
Static sees the worry. "Don't worry ma'am. We'll find him."
How hard can it be to find a kid with a stab wound?
The mother nods slowly. "Alright. Be careful boys." She smiles before walking home with her children.
"You too ma'am." Gear looks to Static.
"Well, let's get started." Static sighs, scanning the area for a clue, like blood on the sidewalk.
"Yeah. How hard can it be to find a bleeding child?" Gear chuckles.
Static laughs too. "That's what I thought." Blood does catch his eye, walking over to the stand. Poking his head around, he sees a smaller boy of fire red hair crouching behind the wood. The blood was a hand print from when he set his hand down to hide. "Hot…Streak?" Static stares in shock for a moment, catching Gear's attention. Before the hero can make anymore notes, a burst of fire knocks him off his feet and flat onto his ass.
Seeing the red head take a run for it, Gear grabs a zap cap, tossing the newly improved technology at the criminal, watching the boy fall to the ground.
Static gets up to his feet, patting the fire off his black and blue trench coat. Yup, that's HotStreak…Both heroes walk up to the struggling teen on the ground. "Lemme go!"
Static hold in laughter, the same as Gear. "What happened to you?"
Francis was not in the mood. "Lemme outta this you faggots! NOW!"
Gear chuckles, failing to keep quiet. "No…I don't think so."
"You got smaller…" Both heroes burst out into a fit of giggles.
"I KNOW!!" It wasn't something you really could miss.
Almost calming down, Gear pulls a coil around HotStreak, the strip acting as a leash. "Almost too funny to send him to jail…"
"Almost."
"You can't send me like this!" HotStreak freezes, looking up.
"Yeah? Why not?" Gear inquires.
"Cuz they'll beat the shit outta me!"
"Like you do to others? It's called karma." Gear snickers. This was just too funny.
"I can't defend my powers like this even with my powers! You know what they'll do to me without 'em!?"
The messages reaches Static. Well…you do hear a lot of things about what they do to scrawny guys in prison…With a sigh, Static changes the subject. "So what happened to you?"
Managing to stand up, HotStreak grits his teeth. "That tootie fruity prick who I swear to fuckin' God is Shiv's uncle, that's what."
"The Joker?" The blonde's head perks at that.
"The Joker's in Dakota again?"
"Apparently…He chucked some shit at me and now I'm scrawny!" Francis was not taking the news of his new body too well.
"…Gear…Maybe you should fix him before we send him to jail…"
"Please."
"It'll…take some time…"
"How much time?"
"I donno. I'll have to study him at HQ."
"I ain't goin' to jail like this." HotStreak repeats, angry.
"Fine. Okay. We'll send you to jail after Gear fixes you. Can you cooperate until then?"
"Sure." HotStreak grins, not really adding trust to the situation.
Gear feels unsteady. "Don't blow up HQ."
"Why would I do that?" HotStreak tries that innocent tone…not working for him might I add.
Static answers. "Because you're you. You do that."
"Promise I won't burn down yer place. Just git me outta these." HotStreak growls, jerking around in the coils which he couldn't burn off. Not this time around.
"No." Gear ends the man's fight to escape by pulling on the coil, basically dragging the man to the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude. Static chuckles watching this.
I like dealing with scrawny HotStreak better.
"LET ME OUT!"
"You know, you got louder too." Static comments, flinching at the sudden outburst.
"Shut up you faggot and let me out of this."
"You're still under arrest even though you're in our custody HotStreak." Gear struggles to pull the older man, who fights the bonds.
"You keep being difficult and we'll send you to jail the way you are now."
"Yer draggin' my ass all around town!"
"Keep up fighting and we'll take the long way to HQ."
"NO!" Gear shouts, grunting as the man fights his tugging. "We're going the shortest way possible."
Angry, HotStreak charges at Static. "Fuck you!" And Francis, in his smaller form, actually kicked the mocha skinned teen in the shin. As Static jumps in pain, Francis is tugged backwards as he is pulled back like a wild animal. At this point, he probably was. There was another jerk and the red head lost his balance, falling.
Now losing his patience, Static clenches his fists. "Maybe we should send him to jail scrawny. He can kick criminals in the shin instead."
Gear continues dragging the boy, who is unable to get to his feet. Flying was easier, but this way was a great way to humiliate the bully. "No! Unlike you, I know what happens to scrawny fuckers in jail! Just let me out of this!"
"No. You kicked me in the shin."
Green eyes narrow at the hero. "You're such a fuckin' pussy."
"Shut up. I'm used to you chucking fire balls, not kicking."
Not liking the way the teen talks at him, HotStreak spits at the hero, shortly punished by another violent jerk.
Why am I the one receiving all the abuse?
Both heroes mutter under their breath.
However, Francis seemed to lack that ability while angry. "Black ass queer."
"What did I do now? I can be tolerant but only for so long." Static crosses his arms, not looking at the red heat.
"You send me to jail more than that mecha bitch of yers."
Gear keeps walking, staying silent. HQ was in sight.
"How about I send you to jail now so you can be the bitch?"
"Wasn't fun then, won't be fun now." Gear stopped to let HotStreak get up. Then preceded to stepping into the gas station.
Hearing that, Static stares HotStreak in surprise. "You were one before?"
Ignoring the Question, HotStreak looks to Gear. "You gonna help me or not?"
"If you stop being difficult." Static suggests, only to get spit at once more.
Nope.
As the blonde takes out papers and logs onto the computer, Static wipes the spit off his face. I thinks he's worse now.
The coils are removed from HotStreak, revealing the bloody white wife beater the man wore. "Static, you should clean his cut."
There was a look of dread on the hero's face. He had taken a few classes on medical aid that Gear mad him take. And they had a few reviews online about more serious wounds. But it didn't mean that he wanted to actually do any of the stuff he learned. This just wasn't his day. But he guesses that HotStreak's day was going a little worse, so he lugged himself from his thoughts to get the first aid kit Richie made for them.
To be honest, the red head had actually forgotten he was hurt. Reminded, HotStreak covers his wound, irritated. "Alright HotStreak, remove your shirt." Static motions for the boy to remove his shirt.
"…no." HotStreak puts simply.
Gear is not in the mood to hear the red head whine as he checks over the chemicals he has in his lab. "Either you let him clean it or we'll haul your ass to the emergency room."
Hearing the threat, HotStreak's green eyes light up as he sits his small butt on the stool in front of Static. "Now, remove your shirt." Static asks again.
Noting happens as HotStreak hesitates, staring down at the ground. "But…I'm all…scrawny and pathetic…" There is a faint chuckles from the desk behind the shorter man. Angry, HotStreak chucks a fireball at Gear, who shrieks, ducking away.
Static's brown eyes narrow slightly. "He's the one who's gonna make you normal again, I'd advise you to not do that again. Now just take off your shirt so I can clean your damn cut. It's not a big deal." There is a long silence, it only being broken by the faint sound of glass bottles clacking as Gear moves around the chemicals. "Just take it off."
"Yeah…how about I do that…"
Again, nothing.
"Need BackPack Static?"
"I might at this rate."
Looking at the blood on his hand, Francis growls. "You suck Static."
"That's nice, now take off your shirt before I do it for you."
"Like hell you will."
Laughter escapes Gear by accident. "That didn't sound gay." The blonde had meant to say that only in his head.
Static bits his lip, shooting his partner in crime an evil glare. "Nice."
"Fine." HotStreak scoots on the stool so his back faces Gear. "But what you see stays between you and me." Grabbing the end of his singed shirt, Francis spitefully removes his stained shirt, revealing his smaller chest. It really was different to see this HotStreak. One that looked…vulnerable.
Gear peered over in slight confusion, wondering about the secrecy. He really was curious.
What's he got that he wants to keep to himself? A weird birthmark? A third nipple? What?…I guess I could just ask V later.
Taking out some cloth, Static cleans up the blood, noticing some odd scars on the man's body. They looked like claw marks. Lots of them. There were short ones and some that ran along the entire front side of the red head. The marks criss-crossed and were layering over one another. Static couldn't help but realized that some of them looked deep, almost as if Francis was struggling against whatever made them.
Virgil couldn't help but remember how Francis never answered the question Static had asked about the possibility of him becoming a bitch in jail.
Ignoring the mysterious scars on the other body, including a few four pronged holes, Static surveys the wound. It couldn't be helped, it had to be stitched. Judging by some other few scars on HotStreak, he must have stitched himself up before. Grabbing the necessary tools needed to stitched the wound, Static preps himself before starting the new experience.
Feeling the needle poke through his skin, HotStreak winces, sucking his gut away from the pain only momentarily. There was a look in Static's eye. Now we're even for you kicking me in the shin and spitting at me…the black queer part however…
Still, feeling Francis shudder in pain wasn't something Virgil liked. Feeling a ping of remorse, Static continues as gently as he can. "Sorry…"
"Shove off faggot." The red head hisses through gritted teeth. Suddenly, Static didn't feel so bad. "It fuckin' hurts."
Gear chuckles again, positive that HotStreak won't move at the moment. Too bad he forgot the kid's mouth.
"Oh shut up poindexter. You're more of a queer than he is." There if venom in his voice as expected.
After a long agonizing silence, Static was finally done. "You can put your shirt on now."
The suggestion is ignored as Francis looks down at the scar to be. His misty green eyes stray to his old scars. Those nail marks that Static saw. Francis wondered if the other man saw them and what he thought about them. Or if he just didn't care. Both thoughts were sickening to him.
"?" Static waves an ungloved hand in front of Francis's face. "Earth to HotStreak."
"Huh?" HotStreak jerks his head back. "What?"
"I'm done. You can put your shirt on." Quickly, HotStreak flings the white material over his head, slapping it on to his small frame.
"Hey Static, come here." Gear calls the other hero over to the desk he had called his long ago.
"What is it?" Static leaves the red head, leaning on the counter.
"Why do we want the old HotStreak back? This one seems easier to detain and probably keep locked up."
"Yeah, he does, but we're suppose to do the right thing, and if he was a bitch in jail before, just think of what'll happen to him now."
"Send him to a lower security prison. I can rid of his powers too and we won't have a problem."
The heroes turn to face the center of their conversation, the red head spinning on the stool quickly. He is unable to listen to their conversation. And personally, he didn't really care.
"Still, there are most likely a lot more people who want to kick his ass, for good reasons might I add, and he can't defend himself like this. And not being able to defend yourself really sucks." Gear recognizes that feeling.
"Alright V…I'll help HotStreak."
"Do your genius thing."
"Yeah. Figure out what's with Mr. Six-and-a-Half over there."
Static looks at HotStreak to see him spinning faster now. "Why am I suppose to figure out what's up with him? You figure him out, he doesn't call you a black faggot."
"Okay then. Here." Gear slides his notebook over to Static. "You figure out his cure and I'll talk to him."
Not really impressed, Static shoves the notebook back. "Don't' be a smart ass, that's my job."
"Got that right."
As Gear took back his notebook, Static walked back over to the childish criminal. "Why are you spinnin'?"
"Bored."
Obviously.
"So…" Static was at a loss. He never really spoke to Francis civilly. "How long you been scrawny?"
"This mornin'." Anger rides in HotStreak's voice. "I've been having one hell of a day."
"Oh…it could be worse."
"Yeah. I could be gettin' fucked by you, a stringy black fucker."
It's this time Virgil reminds himself that he is helping the man out because it's the right thing to do. "You're more of an asshole when your scrawny." Static says coldly. He's about had enough.
Green eyes fog up again. "Spend a couple months in prison. Most of it in solitary confinement, then tell me how happy you'll be."
"Well who's fault is it you end up in prison?" Gear asks without lifting his eyes from his paper, jotting down things only he seems to be able to understand.
"Yours and Static's for puttin' me there." HotStreak whips around to look at the white hero.
"We wouldn't put your there if you didn't do illegal stuff." Static sighs.
"I return the vehicle eventually."
"You're missing the point here HotStreak." Static's voice is full of irritation. It was like babysitting.
"You two gonna help me or harass me?"
"Both." Gear snickers. "I'm helping, Static's harassing."
"Hey, he's harassing me too so it evens out."
"How I harassin' you?" HotStreak twirls on the stool as he swings his body to face Static.
Gear couldn't help but notice how the man talks. 'How I'? It's 'how AM I'
"So far you've kicked me in the damn shin, burnt my coat, called me a black faggot and spit at me multiple times."
"I'm sorry." HotStreak's mood switched to a mischievous one. "I'll make it up to you."
Static quickly puts his hands up, scared. "I'm…fine…just fine." He really was afraid of the boy. What the hell is up with you?
A twisted grin appears on the red head's pretty face. "I insist Static." Lacing his pale fingers through the hero's darker fingers, HotStreak grasps his hands, pulling the taller boy closer. As Static fought for balance, Francis made his move, kissing the mocha skinned hero roughly.
Gear looked up, gasping at the odd sight of HotStreak kissing Static. His friend's eyes nearly widening enough to fill the gapes in the white mask. Static fights to get his hands back, shaking them violently to rid of HotStreak's unnaturally warm hands.
With a laugh, HotStreak releases the tweaking hero in his grasp. Static regains his composure quickly. "And you're calling us the faggots?"
Another chuckles escapes Francis, this one lower and more cruel. "Never said I wasn't." Static and Gear share a look before the blonde returns to his work. "You two ain't?"
"No." Static answers quickly, angry that everyone seems to think that.
"You two don't fuck at all? Seriously?"
"No…we don't." Static is not impressed with the shocked expression on the red head's face.
"But yer hot." HotStreak smirks. "I'd take ya."
"Well, I'm straight so too damn bad."
With a shrug, HotStreak blows off the new information. "I honestly thought you were gay."
You are so wonderful for my ego HotStreak. NOT.
"Well, now you know better."
"Just for fun for me."
Static crosses his arms, not at all impressed. "I change my mind Gear. Don't change him back."
"Hey! Not my fault you won't come out." HotStreak also crosses his arms, looking away angrily.
"Not my fault I like women." Virgil could not help but notice something odd about HotStreak. Is he…pouting?!
"I like 'em too. But the difference is is that I've fucked more than enough of them" Francis says with a snicker.
Static screams in his head. That's cuz you're a MAN WHORE!
The snicker gets louder. "Cute face." Static leaves the stage of sheer irritation to being pissed off. "And it just got cuter." There is yet another awkward pause as Static gathers his calm serenity that HotStreak had blew to smithereens. Francis takes the initiative to brake the silence. "You'd top Gear."
There is a sharp snap of pencil lead braking on paper over by Gear, who's blue eyes have widened. "H-huh?" Neither heroes were very impressed.
"…O…kaaaay…" Static ignores the outburst, running his hand through his dark dreads.
"I'd top you both if I had my ol' body back." HotStreak snickers.
"I'm serious Gear, don't change him back." There is an awkward snicker from Gear from his friend's change of opinion.
Small shoulders shrug as HotStreak speaks. "Meh. I wouldn't do a black guy anyway." Virgil keeps his comments to himself, almost believing that Francis beat him up because he was African American. "And I sure as hell won't let one fuck me either."
With a growl, Static walks over to the beat up couch in an attempt to get as far away from the little devil as possible. Knowing Francis, he probably is Satan. Seeing the attempt to escape, the red head wonders over to the couch. He didn't say anything. He just stared at the hero. Really looking at him.
Static felt agitated and uncomfortable. "What?"
"Nothin'" is spoken quickly but fully voiced with distraction. Fer a nigger…you're actually good lookin'…Really kinda cute actually…
Looking away, Static snorts. "Go back to your stool."
"My stool?"
Gear looks up. His stool? That's my stool. Richie sits on the tall seat because the counters of the gas station were higher than that of a desk. At the moment, he was hunched over the counter while scribbling formula ideas for the cure.
"It's my stool now?"
"It is when I'm around."
With a grin, HotStreak moves forward, onto the lap of the hero. "Then I'll make you my stool."
Blushing wildly from the sudden movement, Static shoves the smaller body off of him onto the floor. "Get away from me. I have a thing against racist people."
HotStreak crawls back onto the dark blue sofa, sitting somewhat innocently. You just couldn't blame that man for any of his faults when he looked so damn adorable. "I'm not racist." There is an abrupt choking sound from across the room as Gear begins to cough.
Static grit his teeth at this man's arrogance. "Yes, you are."
"Am not."
The mocha skinned teen stood up, refusing to look at the other man. "You are." He wondered over to Gear, who was able to breath now. Having the couch to himself, HotStreak stretches himself across the sofa, laying down in comfort.
"Yes you are Francis. You're horrible." Gear muttered out loud.
Another sadness seemed to flood Francis as he thinks. "Well…" There was a short pause that gained the attention of the heroes. "I've had bad experiences with black people." The smaller man lightly put his fingertips over his stained shirt, lightly tracing the claw marks he know too well. "None of 'em really ever treated me right…so why the fuck should I treat them right?" Quickly, the red head rolls away from the other two men, facing the back of the couch.
A feeling of pity flooded Virgil. "You still can't base an entire race on a small portion of people." There isn't an verbal response from the younger looking red head. HotStreak just curled into a small ball. Hating the fact that his bully was being all cute like, Static walks over to the couch once more, sitting in the space next to Francis. "Look, I'm sorry. Nobody should be mistreated like that."
Again, Static watches the rebel feel the scars on his body. His green eyes losing their color as he does so. "Some do…"
Virgil sighs. That was true in his mind. "…maybe some do…but most people don't."
Faded green eyes close gently. "Guess I'm one of 'em."
That depends. Were you always this way or did you end up this way after you were mistreated?
Realizing that the red head had fallen asleep, Static sighs once again in relief and frustration.
"Seems whatever The Joker put in that stuff HotStreak breathed in changes the infected person's body and personality…this'll take longer to even out." Gear announces, looking from his paper to his partner in crime fighting.
"So…how long until you can fix him?"
"Well, I can change his body back tomorrow however…" There was a catch tone.
"However…?"
"I'm not sure about his state of mind. It's changed dramatically. I'm not sure if it's just the testosterone change or what but I'll need to wait and study him."
"Oh…so what do we do until then?"
"Until I figure it out, he should stay here. I gotta watch and see if there's a pattern or relevance to his new personality and his previous one."
"Okay. You do that."
"You'll help me too. Keep him under control."
Damnit…I was hoping to get out of it.
"'Kay."
Gear decides to ask about his curiosity now. "So what was that all about anyway?"
"Well…" Static remembers the time he had told Richie about AJ the Backstreet Boy. How he let out the secret about him being in Dakota. How Daisy and Frieda got the information out of him. "You gonna force me to tell you with a double chili cheeseburger with grilled onions?" Yeah, Virgil was still sore about that.
"Ha ha ha. No. I was just wondering."
"How much does not knowing bother you?" The darker hero chuckles.
"It seemed to come up multiple times. Seems important."
"You're smart, guess."
I wanna see what you come up with.
Oh did Richie hate it when Virgil did this. "This isn't very funny V." He can so see the amusement in his friend's face. "I have no clue. All I got is he hates African Americans cuz he had a bad experience with them, probably a gang. That's it."
"He's got scars all over and he's a bitch in jail. Guess again."
"I figured out he was raped. But I figured he pissed them off so-wait, scars?"
"Yup." Static gets to his feet, walking over to his friend, leaving HotStreak sleeping on the couch. "And I think he was stabbed with a fork at one point." Static adds as he remembers seeing multiple scars looking like fork prongs.
"Oh." Gear returns to his writing. "Well, what goes around comes around" is said with a shrug. "Shouldn't pity him. He does bad things to place himself in jail. He can avoid jail easily."
"Rape doesn't seem like something to justify stealing or joy riding."
"I've read his police report. He's been tried for rape himself. He's also beaten down dozens of people, most of which were of African background or police officers. I know rape doesn't justify that…but still…" The writing and scribbling picks up speed as another idea came to mind.
"I get what you mean but still…Rape isn't justified by more rape."
"I donno…really kind of a hard topic to be honest."
"Yeah…"
"There isn't really much of an answer actually. The women he raped, I can guarantee that you that they'll be justified that their rapist now shares their pain." Gear sighs.
"Yeah…the human race sucks."
"Society sucks."
"Yes." Virgil nods in agreement. "Yes it does."