Title: Shock and Awe
Fandom: Static Shock
Characters: Talon, Hotstreak, Ebon, Virgil/Richie
Prompt: #74 (Dark)
Word Count: 500
Rating: T
Author's Notes: m/m, drabble, angst warning. Talon's POV. Following the story arc for "Unaffected" and "Frankenstein's Monster". Because some people don't get the 'resurrection fic' idea behind the second one. A drabble created for the Lj community known as fanfic100. Unedited and unbeta'd.

Shock and Awe

The world was filled with pure, unfiltered light, and then nothing but darkness.

That wasn't to say there weren't sparks dancing around, spraying the world with dead starlight, and arcs of purple rage dancing over a single figure. But neither the sparks nor the lightning bolts gave off enough energy to actually see anything, and if one tried to look at the threads of energy one only gained a headache. Because the light blinded as easily, as completely, as the darkness did.

The air was filled with the smell of burnt rubber, burnt plastic, and burnt metal. Mostly, though, Talon recognized the smell of burnt flesh. Hanging around Hotstreak allowed her the opportunity to learn that smell, and this… this was definitely it.

Around her, tap-dancing in the dark, were the sounds of machines dying all around them, still frying in the surge that Static sent through them. Louder, though, was the sound of Static breathing. Panting.

She'd never seen….

Normally, he gave off only small doses of electricity. Normally, he would lay off the power-plays long enough to allow his opponent to breathe. But this… This was anything but normal. They'd been prisoners before, but she'd never seen him react like this. And when Gear finally stopped screaming….

Static's first blitzkrieg nearly killed them, and he didn't stop there.

The electric meta-human had lashed out with mad power. She'd followed him as the force field dissolved, and stayed behind him as he leveled everything and everyone who tried to stand in front of him.

Hotstreak was unusually meek. Silent. Careful. Impressed.

Even Ebon was holding his tongue. Watching. Waiting. Learning.

Each of them acknowledged that Alva was a dead man.

Gear….

And still, the darkness only held ribbons of purple electricity and the smell of burnt flesh.

There was the sound of glass crunching as someone moved through the darkness, and almost hidden… someone was crying. Softly. But there was no mistaking it.

She… she was afraid. Because Static was acting as if Gear was his partner in more ways than one, and if Gear was well and truly gone… then what was to prevent Static from bringing this whole place down around their ears?

Next to her, Hotstreak snapped his fingers, lighting a small flame. Talon turned, and without thinking, reached over and extinguished the fire. "No. Give him some peace."

Miraculously, Hotstreak obeyed without complaint.

Talon turned forward again, peering into the pitch. And as she did… something else caught her attention.

There was a new sound. Faint. Quiet.

Whimpering. Pain filled whimpering.

"Bro?"

A low moan.

"Oh God, Rich?"

Talon held her breath, waiting.

"'m here." Came the agonized voice. "God, V… it hurts."

"Hold on a sec. Lemme get you outta here."

Gear was alive. Again.

Talon felt Hotstreak and Ebon tugging her away from the scene. It was time for them to go. They'd be witness to enough, learned enough, to realize that there was no room for them in the duo's near future.