HA! Bet you weren't expecting me to update so fast, where you? Well I did, and it's now almost 11:30, which proves how dedicated I am. (I'm usually in bed by now…I know, I'm a loser.) Anyway, here are the review responses! Oh, and speaking or reviews, I'm proud to announce, that thanks to all the reviewers, I've reached ONE-HUNDRED reviews! YAY! D cough ahem, anyway, as I was saying...
Goddess of Twilight: I swear, I WILL read your stories…I just haven't yet….BUT I WILL! And thank you, that was one of my favorite chapters to write.
Kate Maxwell: Yeah, it sure is gonna be a long road…But knowing me, I'll probably lose my patience and rush it a little. I don't know if I'll be able to write the whole recovery process, but I'll try.
RealityBreakerGirl: I might to with the green jello idea if I can think of a way into making it into a one-shot. I've got the idea, I just don't know if I can make it work. We'll see. Anyway, I'm glad that you liked the last chapter, and I'm glad that I answered your question…sort of…I think?
Trecebo: Um…actually…I'm still debating about the ending of the story. It could go either way at this point. Well, however the story turns out, I hope you keep on reading and enjoying it!
Chapter 18- Only Time Can Tell
"Have you heard from him yet?" Mr. Foley's worried voice asked desperately over the phone.
"No, I'm sorry, but we'll keep looking." Mr. Hawkins replied, and after exchanging a brief goodbye hung up and sighed, looking at the sleeping form of his son.
They had spent the last two days searching for the missing hero. Adam and Sharon had checked the old gas station, Frieda and Daisy had gone from house to house of friends asking questions, and the Foley's had called up any and all family and friends they could think of. Virgil had helped, telling his father where Richie would most likely be, but Robert knew that his son was holding something back, he just wasn't sure what.
With another sigh, Mr. Hawkins turned and left the room while calling the Youth Center yet again to see if there had been any sign of Richie.
Waiting a second after he heard the door click shut, Virgil cautiously opened his eyes to make sure that the room was in fact empty. Once he was confident that nobody was watching him, he moved the wheelchair closer to the bed using his powers. He knew what he was about to do was probably the stupidest thing he had ever thought of doing, but that thought didn't concern him as he wheeled himself over to where his uniform hung, untouched since it had been stripped off of him before the surgery. He was slightly shocked to find that it wasn't the same uniform. This one had a shirt; the shirt he had worn during the robbery was now nothing more than a pile of shredded fabric. Not only that but there was a clean coat/cape, and if he remember the telling of the story correctly, the other one had been covered in his own blood.
Deciding that pondering the mysterious exchange of clothing was a waste of time, he quickly started to change, something he found was near impossible without causing himself pain. It took a total of twenty-three minutes to change, and after that he sat gasping for breath for another four minutes. Thinking for a second that maybe he shouldn't do this, he pushed the thought out his mind, grabbing a breathing mask as he wheeled himself over to the window. Taking out his disk, he unfolded it, and using his powers, made himself hover slightly before sitting down on the disk.
Now or never Static. Taking a deep breath, Virgil, now in full Static uniform, flew away from the hospital, praying that he lasted long enough to reach his friend.
Six A.M. was the perfect time to sit on the clock. There was an exact ninety degree angle, and whoever was sitting on the hand could stay in that same position without the worry of falling off for an hour. But, the occupant of the clock's hand had no such worries, and in fact, a small part of him wished the stupid hand would move, giving him a reason to briefly occupy his mind with finding a new rest position.
"Got room for one more?" The new voice shocked Gear out of his musings, and the owner of the voice shocked him even more. In front of him stood, or rather sat, Static, a tired grin on his face.
"Virgil! What are you doing here?" As fast as he could, Gear moved over to his friend and helped him unto the clock's hand, Virgil's full weight resting on him. Sighing tiredly, Virgil groaned slightly at the pain in his side. Holding onto the stitched up wound, he rested his head against the clock.
"Thought you might like some company." He whispered, sweat trickling down his face.
"You could have killed yourself." Richie wanted to yell, and within seconds, found that was exactly what he was doing. "What the hell were you thinking? What if you had run out of energy? Lost consciousness?"
"I had to find you." The tired hero muttered, turning to face his exasperated partner.
"You could have died Virgil!" Tears where starting to pool in the enraged teen's eyes. "Again! You could have died again Virgil, and…and…And it would have been my fault! It would have been my fault again!"
"It was never your fault to begin with." Virgil didn't know how much longer he could stay awake, but he knew he had to try.
"You're lying! You don't believe it, why should I?" Tears of rage streamed down Richie's face.
"If I…" Virgil had to stop to take a few breathes. "If I didn't believe it, would I be here?" Breathing was getting harder by the second, and the teen's vision was starting to turn dark around the edges.
"I…" Richie didn't know what to say, and suddenly his anger was gone, once again replaced with guilt and now worry as he looked at his best friend. "Virgil?" Concern was clearly evident in his voice. No response. "Virgil?" There were traced of panic now.
"I hear ya'." His throat was dry and a coughing fit seized him for a few seconds. When he regained his composer he felt his friend's arm around his shoulders and the other feeling his forehead.
"You have a slight fever." Guilt was now lacing itself into Richie's voice.
"What was your first clue?" Virgil grinned groggily, wondering for a second where he was and why the hell he was there. He could feel Riche digging around his coat, and he soon felt the breathing mask he had brought along being placed over his mouth and nose.
"I'm taking you back to the hospital." Virgil could feel his arm going around Richie's shoulder and being lifted up, his full weight once again resting on his friend.
"Sounds good." That was the last thing he said before his world went black.
Picking up his now unconscious friend, Gear started flying them both back to the hospital, once thought ringing clearly in his mind. Yes, Virgil, you'd still be here. Even if you thought I was the one who pulled the trigger, you'd still be here. Richie had to wonder if it was a good or bad thing.
Pacing back and forth in front of Virgil's room was getting Gear nowhere. He had brought the hero back to the hospital about half an hour ago, yelling at half the personnel to help Static and the other half about their inability to keep an obviously badly wounded patient safe and in his room.
Both his parents and the Hawkins rushed to the hospital as soon as he contacted them, and after a brief explanation about what happened, Robert and Sharon had rushed into Virgil's room while the Foleys, along with their son, went to talk in private. Richie had quickly answered all the questions his parents could throw at him, as well as the burning, 'Why did you disappear like that?' question. That one took a little bit longer, and his parents where now in their car driving home, their question still not answered.
Finally mustering up the courage to see his friend and face his family, Gear knocked gently on the door. Upon receiving a 'Come in,' the hero quietly opened the door and peered in. On the bed lay Virgil, a newly replaced nasal canal and heart monitor attached to the sleeping form. Coming in fully, Richie gently closed the door behind him before taking off his helmet.
"How is he?" Richie asked, nearly whispering. Looking around the room, he noticed that it was only Mr. Hawkins who was in the room, and Richie quickly decided that Sharon must have gone home while he had been with his parents.
Looking up from his son's face and into that of Richie's, Robert grinned slightly, although it was a forced grin. "The doctor's say he's going to be ok, just as long as he doesn't pull anymore stunts like that."
Richie hung his head. "It's my fault." He muttered.
Robert had been expecting that, Sharon having filled him in on what was going on.
"That's just something you two are going to have to talk about later, but for now, you should get some rest. You still have school tomorrow." Richie didn't respond, but instead stood gazing at the floor.
Robert was about to leave when Richie suddenly spoke. "He does blame me you know. He might not want to admit it, even to himself, but I know he does. I saw it in the way he looked at me, the way he spoke." He was now looking at Virgil, feeling the guilt eating away at him, and not having the slightest idea about what to do next.
Phew. Well, what did you all think? I raised the rating a little bit because, well, I think I'm going to put in an even more serious issue, so, well..GAH! NO! I won't tell you! You'll have to find out as I go along.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter, as well as the horrible pun for a chapter name…If you don't get it, well, that just makes it an even worse pun…Oh well, please review!