Title: Legacy
Fandom: Static Shock
Characters: Virgil/Richie
Prompt: #94 (Independence)
Word Count: 500
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock.
Author's Notes: m/m, drabble. I have no idea what Static's son was supposed to be named, so I decided to name him after someone famous. This is sort of the epilogue to the "Unaffected" series of drabbles I created. I wanted this to be from a female's view to go with the pattern from the other chapters, but that wasn't working for me. This is a drabble created for the Lj community known as fanfic100. Unedited and unbeta'd.
Legacy
Martin stared as his Pops knelt down beside the monument.
He stood back awkwardly, giving the old man some peace. It was less than a year ago, and while he heart still ached for their loss, his father had taken it exceptionally hard.
"Sorry it's been so long since I came to visit. It's…. harder now. Harder to get up. Harder to just get out of the house…"
Martin came forward and put his hand on his father's shoulder.
"The day seems a bit bright, don't you think?" his Pops muttered. "Isn't it supposed to be dark and rainy? It always seemed to be like that in the movies."
"Yeah, well… he hated rainy weather."
"Yeah, because it meant I was going to be underfoot," the old man grinned slightly. "Sometimes that could be fun, though."
"Like the time you nearly blew up his lab?"
"Well, barring that."
Martin grinned. "Yeah, there were a lot of fun times on rainy days."
"You know he died before."
"I remember the story. You brought him back to life," Martin replied quietly. 'I remember finding out the body count, too. I remember seeing clips of it, and wondering if that was really possible that you two… So unreal. But I also remember what the League did, and that was a far worse injustice.'
"Yeah. I wish I could do that now."
"Me too," Martin said, his voice tightening. "I wish…"
"But… he wouldn't have wanted that." The older man said. With a sigh, he changed the subject. "They've let the weeds grow up again."
"The reason it's not raining today is because it rained all last week."
"That's no excuse," the gray-haired man said adamantly. With a grunt, he got to his feet. "They should show some respect."
"They will, Pops," Martin said, trying to sooth him.
"No they won't," his father muttered disgustedly. "The world wants to forget him. After all, he wasn't a real hero, not to them. He was just a mechanic."
"But he was a real hero," the youth said. "Where would you have been without him?"
"Damn right he was a hero," Virgil nodded. "I'd be dead. Or worse. He kept this world safer than they'd ever know. Than they'd ever dream. All by being locked away. And now? Now that I have my independence… I could care less. All I want…"
"Yeah?"
"All I want to do is go home," the old man sighed tiredly.
"C'mon, Pops. I'll take you home."
The man once known as Static turned to him, his dark eyes hollowed of any light and the smile long since faded from his lips. "You know, you make us both proud."
Martin felt his cheeks flush. "Aww, Pops-"
"You do," the older man said. "Very proud."
Martin shifted uncomfortably as he tried to avoid his Pops' gaze. He found himself staring at the statue of his other late father, only a much, much younger version.
"I've got a lot of big footsteps to follow in."