I took your guys' input and the vast majority of you prefer slash, so I'm going with that. Sorry friendfic peoples D: Maybe when I get this out of my system, I'll be able to write some friendliness X3 Thanks so much for your reviews guys! If it wasn't for your encouragement I might have abandoned this C: Thank you!

Chapter 3

Static conducted a small stream of electricity between his fingers while he huffed out a sigh, "See Richie? Nothing to worry about."

Richie traced a small streak of fresh skin across Virgil's side before readjusting his glasses and straightening, "Yup, you're right, everything looks fine. You heal remarkably fast V, that's all I can say."

Virgil repositioned his shirt and snorted, "Can you imagine if I didn't?" He'd had to start wearing baggier clothes after he realized the effect his constant crime-fighting was having. If people started to notice how athletic he was getting there were going to be questions, and the more questions and suspicions there were the closer they got to finding out who Static really was. It wasn't like he acted any different when he was the super hero, he just played the nerdy-weak act like superman and hoped it worked.

Richie cut to the chase, "So? How'd Sharon handle it?"

The metahuman gave a short sarcastic laugh, "So get this; She starts trying to tell me how to do my job and getting all over-protective!"

Draping himself over the back of Static's chair he added, "I'm sure she's just worried, V"

Sighing again Static looked out the window, "Yeah man, I know that...it's just, everything would have been better if they had never found out. Even before my dad knew what I'd been up to I could see how much of a strain this was putting on him. I feel so guilty making them worry like that, even though I know this is what I gotta do."

Richie listened to his friend in sympathy; his family had yet to figure out what he did, but he'd calculated that if he kept up as he was now the odds of them discovering his heroic escapades were about a 5% likelihood. It wasn't like his parents would care much even if they did find out. "I know Virg." Setting some pause between his sentences he asked, "Patrol?" as he looked at the alarm clock by his bed.

Static swung to his feet and walked over to his closet in agreement, "Patrol."

Static landed on top a building in the old "historic district" or so it was called, even if half the buildings were nearly collapsing on each other. Ditching his outer coat on the railing he sat down and relaxed enough that he was comfortable but not enough that he could be easily sneaked up on; he didn't take chances like that while he was dressed as Static anymore.

Pulling on his neck, he stretched a tight muscle and shivered at at a cold gust of wind that prickled his sweat coated skin. He started when he heard a familiar voice ring out from behind him, but relaxed a bit when he remembered that his back was to the edge of an open building. Turning around and leaning over the side, Static matched the voice to Hotstreak in an eroding and deserted courtyard below.

He was about to announce his presence, but he stopped abruptly when he heard the mention of his name. Freezing in mid-lunge, Static lowered himself so he would be so easily seen and listened.

The dead winter chill helped the sound carry to his hears across the concrete, "Whatever F-stop, we know you helped the hero wannabe." Three guys were in Hotstreaks face and while one of them held a crowbar, he didn't hold it in a way that meant to intimidate; Static figured he probably had it in self-defense. Hotstreak's temper proceeded him.

"Static's mine! I'll be damned if I let some half-assed cowards finish him off!" Fire flickered around the skin of his knuckles, casting an orange glow over the surrounding objects in place of the shattered light post. Static felt a twist in his stomach at the brutal honesty of that statement, trying his hardest to focus on the conversation and not let his mind drift to past events.

"Those cowards were part of Neon. They told him what you did, and he told us to tell you that if he ever sees you around his territory again him and his boys will make sure you end up how Static should be by now. With the metahuman backup on their side even you would be hard-pressed to make it out of that alive."

Static could only imagine the hatred glowing in his eyes at that, but Static was surprised when he didn't attack and instead answered in a chillingly steady voice, "Tell im' if that's the way he does things then he disgusts me; I won't step foot near that place again if only to avoid his stupid ass." Before the three could speak again, Hotstreak turned and walked directly towards the building Static had been eavesdropping on.

Static's heart leapt in panic and he slid the the ground, hidden by the wall of brick fencing in the roof. He wasn't quite sure why he was so desperate to stay hidden, but his eyes widened and he gulped when Francis swung over the wall opposite him and folded his arms. His constant scowl was carved into his features as he glared back and toned menacingly, "Eavesdropping isn't polite you know."

Jumping to his feet Static swung his arms out in defense, "Hey! I didn't know you were gonna be here, so coincidence isn't the same as eavesdropping!"

To his surprised Hotstreak just raised an eyebrow at his quick defense and snorted, "No need to shout." He was even more confused when he sat down and didn't bother to fight.

Static stared dumbly and asked, "You're not gonna fight me?"

The hot-tempered punk just stared, glare melting away with a shrug, "Nah, don't really feel like it."

Static gained courage at the calm attitude Hotstreak had fallen into and jabbed, "Hotstreak doesn't wanna fight? And maybe tomorrow I'll decide to wear pink."

Hotstreak lunged in his direction, "Just cause I feel like bein' nice don't mean you haveta act like I can't do it!"

Throwing his hands up in surrender Virgil stopped him, "Okay okay! My bad. If you don't feel like fighting then what're you here for."

A strange expression briefly flitted across his face before he answered, "Shuddup, maybe I just felt like talkin'"

This piqued Static's curiosity for the second time; Hotstreak was purposefully going out of his way to talk to him and he couldn't figure out why, but old habits stick and Static felt the sarcasm slip out before he could think about it, "If you want me to shut up I can't talk."

Flames flared around Hotstreak in a small solar flare before threatening, "If you're not going to take me seriously-"

Static actually sighed and sat down again, "Sorry. Bad habit."

Francis nostalgically commented, "Stupid mouth always has gotten you into more trouble than it's worth."

"Hey! What would you know."

Hotstreak snorted, "Why do you think you were getting wailed on all the time. I guess it's just built into you to just piss people off."

Static deadpanned, "I take offense to that."

Hotstreak let out a bark of laughter and after a comfortable pause, his tone turned serious, "Yer not the scrawny weakling I used to wail on anymore, you've gotten pretty athletic...for a nerd."

Static flashed a cocky grin, "I think I just heard a a compliment."

The always present anger in Hotstreak's voice lashed out, "Don't think too much of it." Looking Static up and down he asked, "Now that I know yer Virgil it's not that hard to see the comparison. It's hard to believe no one else figured it out."

Statics eyes grew dark, "Ebon almost did."

"Ebon's a freak."

Static folded his hands and looked up from under his mask, "I know. Imagine the damage he could do with that kind of information." Hotstreak looked over the brooding hero more carefully and realized the taunting, bright exterior was mostly a front. The Static he was looking at right now was the Static that had briefly dropped the barriers in a rare moment of weakness. Hotstreak shivered when he realized how much he reminded him of himself.

The barriers came back up when Static dropped back to Earth, remembering that he wasn't alone and grinned up at Hotstreak, all traces of sadness gone, "I should get going before Richie worries. I swear that kid worries over everything."

Jumping on to his disk Static took a risk and asked as noncommittally as possible, "You ever want to catch me, I'm usually hangin' by the junkyard for target practice." Before he could hear an answer Static was gone, leaving Hotstreak with no reason to give an immediate answer and he was grateful for that. Otherwise he wasn't sure what he would have said.

Hotstreak tossed in his sleep, had he normal reactions to an increase in exertion and temperature, he would have been covered in sweat. Jerking away he instinctively lashed out with fire, a bright orange glow flickering around the walls of the abandoned subway tunnel. He panted and recovered quickly, cursing his inability to keep the nightmares at bay. Scowling at a crumpled newspaper by his feet, Hotstreak stood and flexed his hands, letting them glow with flames. Nightmares pissed him off. There was nothin' he could do to fight back in a dream.

Antsy and too irritated to fall back asleep, Hotstreak decided to take a walk. Clenching and unclenching his fingers in anticipation of a fight, he decided he would do just that. What better way to blow off steam than to go and pick a fight. Scowling, he stormed straight for the nearest shady spot he knew of. He didn't give a shit who he was about to go piss off, so long as he got to bash some skulls.

His mouth splitting into a feral grin when he spotted some punks sporting hoodies leaning in the back alley of a club. He wasn't sure how late it was, but the music still pounded through the brick in a steady, deep thrum. Shouting at the small group, "Hey dumbshits! I feel like starting some real shit! Who's ready to dance!"

They might not have recognized him or just not cared enough to argue since Hotstreak was clearly about to kick ass, but all of them seemed ready to defend themselves as they each slid into a defensive crouch. Not bothering with his fire powers, Hotstreak wanted to feel his bones cracking against their ribs. Dodging a switchblade, before the amateur could stumble past him, he brought a strong fist into his diaphragm, letting the punk slide winded to the ground. He left him and moved to the next one, laughing ecstatically when his fist connected with a bone cracking crunch in the remaining druggie's ribs.

He left them moaning on the ground, positive that the next person who came out for a smoke would see them and keep them from rotting in an alley. Reveling at the sting in his knuckles, Hotstreak felt his adrenaline high ebb and couldn't decide if he should continue to thrill seek, or sleep...he quickly dismissed sleep and decided to gain altitude.

He hopped from rooftop to rooftop before he heard a familiar screech; Talon. If one of the metahumans was on a rampage, Static wouldn't be too far behind them to stop them. Curiously, Hotstreak decided to watch rather than participate. Why he decided this, he couldn't remember later.

Standing calmly and watching Talon try to make off with some money bags of some sort. He stifled a grin when Static came up behind her and shot an electric blast at her back. She screeched and faltered in the air before recovering with a hiss and opening her mouth for a screech.

Static stopped short and concentrated, a force field of energy crackling around him and protecting him from the majority of her screech, but he did grimace, snarling at the grating sound. Hotstreak tightened his fingers in anxiety, grinning a ferocious smile as he watched the hero hit her with another energy blast as she recovered from her extended attack. Catching both her and the money before they fell to the concrete.

He set them down, and once he was certain she was unconscious, jumped back onto his disk and rose back up to rooftop level. Hotstreak felt a little impressed at the metahuman's ability. He and Static were two of three metahuman's he knew with unlimited potential. Hotstreak drew his power from the sun, Static from the Earth, and Ebon from the darkness. None of the other metahuman's even came close to them in a sparring match and they knew it. The only reason Hotstreak ever let Ebon take charge was because he didn't care what he was doing, as long as he got the thrill of a good fight.

Watching the electromagnetic hero speed away, Hotstreak wondered what it was about the hero that caught his attention. He couldn't deny that he had a nice body. He was powerful as fuck, and even though he'd never say it to his face, he could be pretty funny, even if his jokes were at his expense. Well, despite all those things, why Static was so important to him was a mystery.

Hotstreak watched the hero's sparking trail disappear with a hint of nostalgia and felt the urge to sigh. Since when did he get all emotional and shit! This wasn't how these things usually went; he woke up, he kicked ass, he felt awesome. Now he was just feeling depressed again and...lonely? Hotstreak hissed and turned his back to the street and felt his nails digging painfully into his palm. There was no way that he was getting lonely! He'd been alone the majority of his life, and he could stand to be alone a while longer.

It wasn't that he hadn't tried to make friends he just wasn't...good at it. When he first heard that Aquamaria wanted to turn human again, he'd taken it as a sign that she didn't want to be with him anymore. But now that he thought about it, how could he blame her? He was an abrasive, violent asshole. He couldn't handle the thought of her leaving, and so he'd tried to keep her as a metahuman, which in hindsight was a really stupid, selfish thing to do.

But that was it wasn't it? He was inherently selfish. If he saw something he liked, he wanted it, and he had usually gotten it through some method of...persuasion. It didn't matter to him if that persuasion was violent. Thinking back at the lightning metahuman, Hotstreak felt the same tug in his chest when he'd discovered something he'd wanted...NO, he did NOT want Static. Like, maybe he wanted someone to talk to or something...that must be it.

It wasn't like they had so little in common. He'd seen Static's bad side, and it was fucking scary. It'd be a cold day in hell that he would admit it out loud. The glimpses of pain he saw in the hero's eyes just made him curious. He was under the impression that his life was all hunkey dorey. But the hard glint in his eyes he recognized as someone who knew death.

Dammit! Hotstreak resisted the urge to chew his lip and wondered how he could get Static's attention without thoroughly pissing him off and landing himself in jail. He wasn't gonna lie, he was feeling like he needed some semblance of attention, and all be damned, he was going to get it! Besides, it had been awhile since he'd pulled grand theft auto.

Review guys! I LOVE to hear from you! I makes me feel like maybe I'm doing something right lol If something ever seems exceptionally, hmm off? Tell me what I'm doing wrong so I can be of more entertainment to you XD Also, throw me suggestions! I love those too C: I also like writing little faces X3