Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock. I am not making profit from this story so no one sue me, please. Any characters whom are not from Static Shock are rightfully owned by me.
Summary: Virgil and Richie haven't been friends for nearly 20 years. They have gone their separate ways and lived their successful live through work. However, how have their personal lives suffered since their failed friendship?
Adam had long since retreated into the house, and for close to ten minutes, all Richie and Virgil could do was stare at one another soundlessly. This time it was different, though; this time, Richie seemed a lot calmer, and Virgil was unsure whether he should be frightened by that or not.
Just a couple days prior, Virgil had found himself in a similar face-to-face situation with Richie, which ultimately lead to Virgil living the next few days miserably. If Richie had returned to talk to Virgil about anything other than something good, Virgil wasn't sure how his heart would be able to handle it.
Of course, just seeing Richie had come back at all had to be a good thing; it had to because they weren't dating, which obviously had to mean he wanted to talk about something good.
Unless, of course, he wanted to talk about how they could never be friends again, and that Richie and Virgil seeing each on Monday was nothing but a fluke, and Richie still hated Virgil and was always going to. But then why would he come back to say all that? Actions obviously spoke louder than words, and Richie could have portrayed that same idea by never coming to see him again.
So the burning question remained: Why was Richie here?
Virgil shifted uncomfortably, the burning cigarette rested against his hip, firmly between his fingers. When Virgil finally realized that Richie didn't know he smoked, he whipped around and put out the cigarette in the ashtray on the table. Letting out a low, long sigh, Virgil turned back around to find Richie staring at him even more intently.
Tuesday morning, after seeing Virgil again the previous night, Richie made a decision that he was done being hopelessly in love with Virgil. He was done spending countless days thinking about the man who had broken his heart; thinking about the man he should realistically have stopped loving after a couple months, at the absolute most. There was no logical reason that Richie would still love Virgil after twenty years; there was nothing about Virgil that made him different from all the other men he'd dated.
But then again, maybe there was; maybe there was something different about Virgil. So, after seeing him Monday night, Richie decided he needed to talk to someone about his feelings. Hours of pointless driving landed Richie in the heart of Gotham and he made a split-second decision to go to the café he had been to for his failed date. Angel had helped him feel better that afternoon, so perhaps she could help him work out his emotions.
"I'm still in love with a man I haven't seen for twenty years."
Richie sighed as the memories of that night began to reel through his thoughts. For two days Richie had done nothing by replay select parts of the conversation he and Angel had had.
"Well, tell me about him."
Richie cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. He watched intently as Virgil displayed his discomfort for the current situation, noting every muscle spasm, dart of the eyes, clench of the fingers, and bite of the lip. For a moment, Richie debated whether it was Virgil's level of comfort that made him fidgety or an obvious addiction to nicotine. Either way, in that moment, Richie realized there was a lot about Virgil he didn't know; a lot that had changed about the man standing in front of him.
"Wait. Did you just say the names Chloé and Virgil?"
"Yes. Why?"
"As in... Virgil Hawkins?"
"That's exactly who I mean. How do you know him?"
"Virgil is my ex-husband. He's the one I was telling you about; the one that's still in love with...
"I thought I recognized you."
The remainder of the conversation consisted of Angelica giving Richie a slew of reasons why he shouldn't waste his time with Virgil. Most of the arguments were rather compelling, and after leaving the café, Richie found himself oddly satisfied with the conversation. He wasn't going to waste his time with Virgil any longer; he was going to let the love dissipate and move on with his life; he was going to find a man, settle down, and continue living his life, but now he would be happy and free of the love he felt for Virgil.
At least, for a short period he was.
Richie was torn from his thoughts when he noticed Virgil fishing through his pockets from his lighter. Richie only knew what Virgil was looking for because he had a fresh cigarette parting his lips. Inhaling quickly through his nose, Richie closed the gap between Virgil and himself only long enough to snatch the cigarette away and toss it on the table. When his actions awarded him an irritated look from Virgil, Richie spoke to justify himself.
"You don't need that," said Richie as he stepped back to his original spot. "Nicotine is bad for you."
Virgil rolled his eyes and snatched the cigarette from the table. He returned it to the box as he said, "I know that, Richie."
"Obviously not, or you wouldn't be doing it," Richie pointed out as he crossed his arms.
Virgil drew in a long, deep breath through his nose to calm his nerves. When he finally felt his muscles relax a little bit, he said, emphasizing every word to portray his irritation, "I highly doubt you came here to criticize me for smoking."
Richie blinked and cleared his throat. Crossing his arms, he leaned against a nearby pillar and said, "No, I didn't," quietly. "I came here because I want to talk to you."
As he bent down to pick up the overturned chair, Virgil muttered, "About what?" When the chair was upright, Virgil sat down, crossed his arms, and looked up at Richie as he waited for an answer.
"Us," said Richie simply.
"What about us?"
There was a long pause. During that silence, Richie scoped out the patio until he spotted another chair similar to the one Virgil occupied. He left his spot against the pillar to drag the chair across the patio and set it down across from Virgil. As he took his seat, Richie muttered his response. "That I still love you."
Virgil blinked. Knitting his eyebrows together, he crossed his arms tighter and said, "If you still love me, why did you run?"
Richie narrowed his eyes as traces of the same venom from Monday filled them. "Taking someone's virginity and then running off to marry someone else the next day doesn't exactly make a person happy, Virgil," he spat. "I've spent a good part of twenty years trying to convince myself to hate you, too."
"Oh," Virgil said simply, softly. He let out the smallest of sighs through his nose.
Richie crossed his arms and legs and slumped into the chair. "I talked to Angelica the other day," he finally admitted.
Virgil let his head tip downward so he could stare at the ground. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and he narrowed his gaze. "I know. She told me."
"So, she also to you she gave one hundred and one really fantastic reasons why I shouldn't be wasting my time here?" Richie growled. The words came out a little harsher than Richie had meant for them to, but it got his point across, so he didn't bother trying to fix his tone.
Virgil nodded. He tried to say something, but the words got hitched in his throat. He crossed his legs and slipped his hand into his sweater pocket. He clutched his hand around the pack of cigarettes, figuring that if couldn't smoke one, he could at least get some comfort knowing they were there.
"I had no intention of even coming back here," Richie announced, uncrossing his arms. "Angelica had a really good point: Have you ever really loved anyone? Is there anyone you haven't hurt, Virgil?"
When there was no response from the man Richie was addressing, he continued. "I've wanted to be with you for a long time, even though I logically know that is incredibly stupid. You may not see it this way, Virgil, but you cheated on me, and I don't do well with people cheating on me. I broke up with my last boyfriend because of that."
"Your last boyfriend?" Virgil echoed, his voice croaking, and he finally looked up at Richie. Judging by the look on his face, Virgil figured that that being the only thing he commented on was entirely the wrong thing to say, but there was no taking it back now.
"Yes, Virgil, my last boyfriend. I wasn't going to just sit around and be single for the rest of my life," said Richie, his tone filled with annoyance. Letting out a groan, Richie rolled his eyes and said, "I dated this guy named Mike for, like, fifteen years. I met him when I worked in Albany.
"Now, if you have no more questions about my personal life, I would like to continue," Richie spat.
"Sorry," Virgil said softly, looking back down at the ground. He tightened his hold on his cigarettes, not exactly worried if he broke them.
Richie sighed loudly. He pressed his hands to his temples and shut his eyes, briefly trying to calm down. Clearing his throat just as loudly as he sighed, Richie opened his eyes again and let his hands fall to his lap. He stared at Virgil for a few moments, noticing how badly Virgil's left hand was shaking. The realization resulted in Richie letting out a softer, more sympathetic sigh. The last thing Richie wanted to do was send Virgil into an anxiety attack, no matter how pissed off he was.
"I came over because it occurred to me that I never got your side of the story," Richie said softly. "After talking with Angelica, I was set on letting you just become a memory, but then I realized that, if I was going to talk to Angelica, I might as well get all the details, which meant coming to talk to you.
"So, I'm here because I want to know why you ran off and got married. I want to know why you would knowingly break my heart."
Lifting his head, Virgil darted his gaze to something diagonally away from him. He pressed his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, nervously gathering together the words to portray what he wanted to say. Finally, he dropped his hand to his lap and turned his attention back to Richie who was intently, and patiently, waiting for Virgil to answer.
"I was scared," Virgil finally said.
When a long silence danced between Richie and Virgil, Richie decided he would try to coax more information out of Virgil with some open-ended questions. "Why were you scared?" he asked gently.
Virgil drew in a deep breath, sucked in his lips, and let his eyes become dampened from threatening tears. "I was afraid of being gay," he managed to choke out.
Richie sighed. "Virgil, I was scared when I realized I was g—"
"It's not like that, Richie," Virgil interrupted with a hiccup of words. He sat up a little bit straighter and let go of the cigarettes. He crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to talk. "I'm not saying being gay is a walk in the park for anyone, but you're white, Richie. I'm a double minority…
Being gay is about the worst thing you can be in the African-American culture. At least, it was twenty years ago… I don't know if anything has changed or not, but..."
Virgil sighed heavily. He pulled his feet up onto the chair and crossed his arms over his legs. Biting the inside of his cheek, he rested his chin on his knees and looked down at the ground. Richie had been giving him looks of sympathy while he spoke and Virgil didn't want to see it; he didn't want to feel like some kind of charity case.
"I don't know, Richie, I just… I couldn't accept being gay," Virgil said, his tone a little more even but still teary. "I never meant to hurt you. I know I should have talked to you, but…" Clearing his throat, Virgil sighed and got his thoughts back on track. "Look, I've been aware of my sexuality since I was fifteen, but that… that didn't stop me from trying to hide it; trying to ignore it. When you came out to me… when you told me you loved me… I don't know. I… I let my guard down and I let myself be with you, because… I guess I felt the same… and I know I shouldn't have because I couldn't—I didn't want to return that love. So, I thought… maybe if I ran off and got married to Angelica…"
"…you could live the life of a straight man and everything would be fine…" Richie said, finishing Virgil's obvious thoughts. He said his next statement as gently as he could manage, not wanting to sound sarcastic. "How did that work out for you?"
"Well," Virgil began monotone, "I have an ex-wife, a daughter I barely see, a shattered friendship, and an addiction to nicotine… so…"
"I see," Richie said simply.
There was another long pause—this one ranging around fifteen minutes—where neither of them made even the slightest noise. They barely moved as they were both lost in their thoughts. Richie played over everything Virgil had just told him, and Virgil played over everything he had just told Richie. As Virgil remained lost in his thoughts, the silence started becoming too much, and Virgil's hands were shaking too violently. Much to Richie's dismay, Virgil caved and reached into his pocket for a cigarette and his lighter. He lit the white stick, took a long drag, and exhaled the smoke with a content sigh, his shaking hands instantly calming down.
"You're really that addicted," Richie pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Mm," Virgil mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, exhaling the smoke from another long drag. "It calms the nerves."
"So does sleeping, reading, and taking a long bath," Richie pointed out.
Virgil shrugged. "I don't have time for reading; my job is too hectic, which means I also don't have time to take relaxing baths."
"I also said 'sleeping' was one," Richie pointed out.
"I prefer smoking. It's more instantaneous," Virgil replied as he shrugged. Letting out another puff of air, he said, "Besides, I only smoke once a day."
"Funny, because in the two hours I've been here, I'm pretty sure that's the second one I've seen you smoke," said Richie as he raised both of his eyebrows knowingly. "Care to try that again?"
Virgil shot Richie a deathly glare. "I usually," he said with emphasis, "only smoke one, then," he hissed. "Is that better?"
"Well, no need to get nasty," Richie spat back, raising his arms in defense. "I'm just trying to look out for you."
"No offense, Richie," Virgil shot back, "but I can do that myself. I don't really need someone I haven't seen in twenty years telling me how to live my life."
Richie blinked, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach. He should have known seeing Virgil would be a terrible idea. "Whatever," Richie said, disgustedly, as he pushed himself up from his seat. "I'm leaving. It's getting late, anyway. I don't really want to walk home in the dark."
Virgil's eyes went wide at the realization that Richie leaving. "Wait," he cried out desperately as he outstretched an arm to grab Richie's wrist. He tugged Richie back. Looking up at him from his seat, he asked, "Don't you want to know more of the story?"
Richie gave an amused laugh mixed with a scoff. "No, not if you're going to be an ass," Richie paused to collect his thoughts. "I came here because I was hoping, maybe, I was wrong about you;" he began, "hoping that maybe there was a reason I saw you on Monday after still loving you for so long." Richie paused briefly again.
Virgil let go of Richie's arm as he said, quietly, "Is there?"
Richie sighed. After a beat, he sat back down his previous spot. Evenly, he said, "Well, you're not exactly giving me one."
Instantaneously, without giving it any thought, Virgil said, "What if I said I've always loved you? It just took me awhile to figure it out…" Once the words started flowing, Virgil couldn't seem to make them stop. He desperately wanted Richie to stay; he didn't want to lose his only real friend again. "You were the only person that ever completely put up with my crap, even when no one else would. You were the only person that was there for me, no matter what, and you stood behind me, even when I didn't deserve it. All you ever did was… care about me; watch out for me… and even after twenty years of wanting to hate me, you still care about me, even though I really don't deserve it, because I was an ass, and I fucked up.
"What if I said seeing you on Monday," Virgil began, tears dripping down his cheeks, "made me fall into this downward spiral because I realized how much I love you, and how badly I screwed up our friendship and any chance of being with a man I actually love?
"Because that's all true, and I've missed you." Virgil paused briefly. Softly, he said again, "I've missed you, Richie…"
Richie was quiet for a few minutes as he took in everything that Virgil had just confessed. There were hundreds of thoughts going through his mind at once. The thoughts skirting through Richie's mind ranged from wanting to forget the past and up and kiss Virgil to remembering that, just because Virgil admitted to loving him, didn't mean Richie could just up and trust him again. As a matter of fact, the last thing Richie could see being able to do again was trust Virgil, but that didn't stop him from wanting to; didn't stop him from wanting to try. Maybe there was something to seeing him again after all.
"I've missed you, too, Virgil," Richie began, his tone filled with honesty. "And… maybe… there was something to coming back here today…"
A glimmer of hope flashed in Virgil's chocolate eyes. "You mean…?"
"I'm not saying I want to date you, Virgil," said Richie in a firm tone, wanting to make sure Virgil really understood that. "I am saying, though… that maybe… we can… try and fix our friendship…" he said breathily.
As soon as the words left, Richie gently shut his eyes and reeled over what he had just said. Of all the crazy things Richie had done in his life, knowingly giving Virgil a second chance was perhaps the craziest. If there was one thing of which Richie was absolutely convinced… people didn't change.
Shaking his head slowly, Richie opened his eyes again to see the same hopeful glimmer in Virgil's eyes smiling across from him. He felt a surge of nausea in his gut when he realized the magnitude of what he had just promised. Biting his bottom lip, Richie clenched his eyes shut as he tried to banish the nausea.
"Virgil, please… please do not make me regret this decision," he said airily, his tone pleading.
The nausea Richie felt dissipated when he felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around his shoulders. Without thinking, Richie relaxed in embrace and wrapped his arms around the body hugging him. He heard a soft voice murmur "I promise I won't let you down" as the words created a gentle, warm stream of air against his ear.
Then, just as quickly as the arms wrapped around Richie, he felt them leave, and Richie opened his eyes to find Virgil sitting across from him, showing absolutely no indication of what just happened.
A/N: I am so proud of this chapter. So. Fucking. Proud.
At first, I was a little hesitant to make Richie so accepting of giving Virgil a second chance, but Virgil being so open and honest with his feelings (which is obviously something he doesn't do), would have made it a little bit rude for Richie to be like: "No second chance for you." Thus, Richie gave Virgil a second chance, but he's still wary. I hope that's portrayed well.
Also, in case it's not ENTIRELY obvious... I tend to make chapters with a lot of angst really long (chapters 10 and 14 are both over 3,000 words, and now so is this one). I'm not entirely sure if I do it on purpose or not, but there's a lot to get out, so they end up being long.
WELL, ANYWAY. MOVING ON. I hope you guys liked this chapter! Please review! Tell me what you liked, tell me what you didn't like!