Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the franchise. These characters belong to DC and are from the show Static Shock & Batman comics. I write fan fiction for fun and to practice my writing skills. Please enjoy my silly stories.
A pen's rapid clicking echoed through the hollow cave as the second youngest of the batfamily sat in the oversize monitor chair watching his siblings get into position. His hand settled on his stomach for brief moment attempting to soothe the fluttering but to no avail. The drones hovered quietly above the selected warehouse within their perimeter. Tim leaned forward squinting his eyes as he clicked through the different camera angles searching for their lead on the case at had stunted him for weeks. Quiet footsteps approached behind him as a warm mug of fresh coffee was gently set down onto the desk near the detective. A body leaned forward to get a better view of the anxious scanning allowing Tim to speak first.
"There's no way you're actually calm right now," Tim's voice betrayed his anxiety forcing a laugh, "What if we're wrong?" His hands jittered a bit as he received the toasted mug between his palms. The blonde shared similar tastes when it came to consuming coffee—darkest roast with little or no sugar. The goal had always been getting energy from the drink not so much enjoying it. If Alfred hadn't banned espresso—a method to curb the family's caffeine addiction—Tim probably would have cut out the drink all together. Energy drinks had long been outlawed in the Wayne mansion when Bruce found a sleep deprived Tim mapping out Gotham conspiracies on dirty napkins. Richie had made fun of him for weeks after his recovery from the withdrawals. While the blonde didn't have an Alfred of his own, Richie had some experiences of caffeine bans enforced by his own partners—mainly a frustrated Static.
"Honestly, I'm more worried about us being right," Richie's voice remained steady in his cold confession as he drummed his fingers against the dashboard. He lifted his mug to his lips, savoring a long, deliberate sip of the hot beverage, the steam momentarily warming his face. The dashboard screens flickered with live feeds, offering intermittent glimpses of their allies' positions. Nightwing, cloaked in the shadows, sat on the rooftop above scanning the dimly lit area. He remained still noting every movement and sound in the area waiting to give orders to his team. Batgirl stood in a narrow alley way adjacent to the building observing anything that the cameras wouldn't be able to pick up from their home-base. Static quietly hovered a couple hundred yards outside of the selected perimeter covered by the air polluted fog patiently waiting for instructions from his two comrades. The urban hero did his best not to breathe in too deeply of a breath or risk choking on the thick black mist that hide him from the eyes below. Tim's rapid clicking suddenly stopped as a flash of movement darted across one of the screens. Flicking through the feeds, he adjusted a drone's frame to follow the speeding van below. It was the same van from the police reports scattered across the cave, a vehicle that could lead them straight to their target.
"Looks like we were," Tim muttered under his breath giving the mug back to Richie. He zoomed in onto the vehicle that barreled towards the building at dangerous speeds. The old tires screeched as the breaks were suddenly slammed kicking up gravel and a cloud of dust. Batgirl and Nightwing wrapped themselves further into the shadows as the harsh, white headlights lit up the areas causing rodents and strays to flee. The engines cut off but the lights remained burning through the darkness. The heavy metal doors slide open as several large crew members dressed in black stepped out of the vans investigating the ares. The men proceeded to upload victims chained to one another. The cargo was roughly dragged towards the large doors with the crew members growling commands for women and children to remain silent. Other crew members began to methodically sweep the areas, ensuring they hadn't been followed. The air grew tense as the grunts spread out closing into Batgirl's location.
"Hurry now fellows," a shorter man in a tux and top hat waddled out of the van, "We can't take up more of our associate's time." His presence exuded a twisted sense of authority, and he moved to manage his men with an air of impatient control. The smaller man adjusted his bow tie as the shadow beneath his feet began to ripple and contort, morphing into the shape of a human figure. The dark silhouette solidified into a young man who stood before the Gotham villain without uttering a word. Narrowing his eyes, he crossed his arms, silently waiting for the men to finish their tasks and clear the area.
"That's Ebon," Richie pointed to the tall shadow that stood next to the Gotham villain, "He can travel as far as the darkness stretches. He can also open up portals." Tim felt his heartbeat skipped understanding the grave disadvantage the new villain presented to their operation.
"Would Static-," Tim knew that he didn't have to ask about his friends lending a hand. They had already spent several nights in city working tirelessly to examine evidence, investigate leads, and interrogate criminals around the crime networks. After four nights of relentless effort, Tim had come close to passing the case to Bruce, frustrated and his ego bit wounded about the lack of progress the trio had made. But something had clicked when Richie found a photo they had previously overlooked. Despite their exhaustion, Virgil had agreed to back up the Batfamily in the field, anticipating potential complications. They had chosen to be with him every step of the way, but Tim's insecurity resurfaced.
"He'll take care of it," Richie reassured Tim in a warm tone as one of his hands settled onto the dark haired boy's shoulder. Tim nodded and flashed the blonde a smile before turning his focus back onto the operation.
"Nightwing, Penguin is with Ebon which puts us at a disadvantage," he warned through the communication link in a calm urgency. The live feed cut to view Nightwing and Batgirl side by side as they dodged the crewmen's sweeping lights remaining hidden in the shadows. The grunts drifted further out into the streets wearing their numbers thinner.
"Noted. I'll move in from behind. Batgirl, stay low. Static, separate Ebon from the pack so we can have a fair fight," Nightwing opened the large window pane and descended into the building as his team members moved in. Batgirl began silently picking off the men on the outermost perimeter, efficiently pulling them into the shadows one by one.
"Copied. Annoying Ebon is my specialty," Static smirked as he flew into the area hidden by the fog looking for a point to descend. He leaned his weight forward, tipping the disc into an acceleration, letting the wind rush through his locks. The electricity in the air crackled with anticipation, mirroring his own as he began running through various scenarios in his mind. Fidgeting slightly on the metal disc, he considered the best way to get Ebon's attention without revealing his allies' positions.
"Don't forget about your-," Richie's voice chimed in on the com link in a concerned ring. A small flutter in Static's stomach responded to the nurturing nature.
"Yeah I know mom," Static faked an annoyed tone at his best friend's reminder of the gadgets that he packed for the mission. The superhero snickered as he imagined Richie rolling his with Tim sitting in front of the large bat computer.
Loud sirens and flashing lights finally arrived on the scene 30 mins later after the Penguin and his grunts were well beaten and cuffed. Special units had arrived to take home Ebon to Dakota city for trial. Batgirl watched the cleanup from the rooftops as Nightwing stepped in to speak with the police department and hand over the evidence collected over the past week. Tim also agreed to email the Commissioner the case files after dropping off the captured criminals into their respected cells. As the public defenders disappeared into the city, the ground team
"It's all taken care of baby bird," Nightwing bounced on the balls of his feet as he stretched his sore muscles, "Nice job wrapping up the case." Richie flashed his friend a warm smile as Tim straightened his posture at the compliment from the eldest crime fighter. The dark haired boy kicked the chair into a celebration spin as he beamed pride.
"You can thank my sidekicks," the playful, snarky remark rung through the comm link for all the heroes to hear. Nightwing snickered covering his mouth in an attempt to remain quick. Over the live feed, Static pretended to pout, puffing his cheeks in an exaggerated display of mock disappointment, while Batgirl shook her head in playful disapproval.
"The sidekicks will have to head out soon," Static retorted in a tone thick with sarcasm, "We promised She-Bang we wouldn't be out for long." The Dakota hero pulled his cellphone from his pocket checking the time. He squinted his eyes trying to adjust his vision to harsh light that contrasted the thick smog that cloaked the area around them.
"At this point we'd be lucky that She-Bang keeps us around," Richie smiled at the image of their female partner scolding Static & Gear for being away for so long without her. She had reservations about them leaving in the first place and only agreed to stay behind if she was updated on their safety. The firecracker of a teammate often butted heads with Static due to their striking similarities but still held the boys close to her heart. If anything happened, Dakota & Gotham would see a day of reckoning.
"How about grabbing a bite to eat before you head out? I know a great place…"
The dingy building tucked away on the quiet street corner cast a soft, warm glow through the thick, dark smog settled heavily upon the Earth. Neighboring stores & businesses had long been closed but the tiny diner remained a beacon of hope for weary travelers. The signage had eroded from harsh weather and lack of care from business owners and the paint chipped away from the old brick foundation. The trio waved Nightwing good-bye as he dropped the teenagers in front of the restaurant to eat for a bit. Richie smiled at the cheerful eldest, watching as he called out a hasty, "I love you," & a reminder to call Alfred before speeding away into the night. Tim grumbled pulling up the hoodie to hide his face as he lead the group towards the glass doors. Loose gravel crunched under the three sets of sneakers that crossed the semi-full, small parking lot. The vehicles ranged from larger trucks & vans to smaller cars. Virgil and Richie followed close behind quietly teasing the young man even after pushing the doors to enter the worn restaurant.
Sizzling food and the smell of hot grease flooded their senses as the boy took a moment to scan for their own seating. Richie squinted against the harsh LED lights, which momentarily blinded his sensitive eyes—an unfortunate consequence of spending most of his time working in the dark. Spoons clinked against the sides of coffee cups as tired patrons mixed sugar and cream into their midnight roast coffee. Faint murmurs of incoherent conversation floated through the air. The white tables matched with green seating seemed like an odd pair but nothing more odd than citizens that coexisted in Gotham City themselves. The eclectic decor seemed to mirror the city's own eccentricities, a place where the bizarre and the mundane intertwined seamlessly. Richie's gaze swept over the room, taking in the diverse crowd: late-night workers seeking a quick meal, students buried in textbooks, and a few lone souls lost in their thoughts. Suddenly, Virgil's stomach release a loud gurgle encouraging the young men to make a decision soon. Tim laughed at his friend's unintentional outburst while crossed his arms quirking his eyebrows.
"I hope you didn't bring us here for the scenery," Virgil playfully elbowed Tim as he walked forward to claim a quieter spot in the back corner. The boys slide into the small booth making themselves attempting to make themselves comfortable. The green vinyl seats softly squeaked under their weight as they settled in. Richie turned around and borrowed the lamented menus that laid on the empty table behind them. He gently handed one to each of his friends then adjusted his glasses to read the small print
"This food better live up to your sales pitch, Timothy," Virgil said this a fake huff as he adjusted the flimsy menu in his hand. He flipped over the item to read the night special items listing pursing his lips.
"Oh trust me, it does Ovid," Tim stuck out his tongue to match Virgil's immature reaction.
"Everyone knows the more insane the decorations, the better the food," his voice dripped with sarcasm as Richie adjusted his glasses to an angle to prevent himself from pulling the menu obnoxiously close. Virgil waved his hand in front of the small print to annoy his best friend and Richie retaliated with a quick & light back-handed smack upside Virgil's head. A quiet yelp escaped Virgil's lips before he dramatically falling onto the wobbly table moaning about a fatal wound. Tim covered him mouth to muffle the cackle that threatened to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. Richie fought off the smile that tug at the corners of his mouth with the excuse of 'not wanting to encourage bad behavior.' For a few moments Virgil rested his head on the table pressing his right cheek against the cold surface watching his best friend read over the menu. His brown eyes drifted across the diner soaking in all the strange décor choices the owners sporadically displayed—colorful paintings, neon lights, patterned floor tiles, & mismatched wall colors.
"Acid had a credit card," Virgil slowly sat up and grabbed his own menu finally determined to pick something.
"To be fair, we are sandwiched between to alleys that I'm pretty sure someone has died in…" Richie could feel a bit of sweat on his forehead as his flight instincts remained sensitive to the environment they trio lurked in. Although he trusted Tim to keep them safe in Gotham—and the batfamily would have never left them alone to eat if it wasn't safe—his past experiences in Dakota reminded the blonde to always be on alert. At any moment, violence or trouble could find them, and they would have to rely on their wits to protect themselves as civilians.
"You're both prima donnas!" Tim sighed dramatically sinking further into the green seating, "If you never eat at places where a crime may or may have not occurred within a radius, then you can't really eat anywhere!" Richie slowly put his menu down, showing his confusion on full display. Virgil's eyes flickered to catch a glimpse of his best friend's face.
"Solid argument," Virgil grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he waited for Richie's reaction. Richie narrowed his eyes, recognizing that his best friend intended to push his buttons all night.
"No, it really isn't," Richie mumbled, his voice tight as he pressed his mouth into a thin line, trying to stifle the mix of amusement and mild irritation that was bubbling up.
Behind the counter, a tall young man with brown hair and green eyes leaned against the cash register recording completed orders. His dirty apron covered in grease and sweat hung low revealing his green diner t-shirt beneath. He sighed punching holes into the tickets as he pulled out his tips that he's collected during his shift. The young man mumbled in annoyance, tapping his foot against the slick tile beneath him. Nearby, the line cooks chatted with customers sitting at the counter, their voices a mix of laughter and casual conversation.
"Jessica is gonna be late again! Why don't you take an extra table or two while you wait," a shorter cook called out to the young waiter, turning up the heat on the grill. The burgers sizzled on the open flame, sending up a tantalizing aroma that mingled with the other diner smells. The waiter scoffed pushing himself to stand up as he crossed his arms in defiance.
"Jessica is always late. Why does that mean-" his argument left him, when the waiter's eyes fell onto the new table occupied in the corner of the room. The noise in the diner seemed to have dulled as the waiter gaze fell onto the geeky blonde that joked within the trio. The first thing that caught his breath was the sunny smile the young man shown to his friends. While their conversation couldn't be deciphered from across the room, those blue eyes blazed with intensity as his hands wildly expressed a passionate topic. His friends roared with laughter, one even playfully ruffling his soft locks.
"Danny, you ok?" the line cook called out in amusement, "Gwaking ain't gonna get you any tips!"
"Huh? Yeah sure thing," Danny muttered, snapping back to reality. He ignored the last comment as he grabbed an ink pen and paper. Straightening his posture, he smoothed his uniform, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The waiter reminded himself to breathe as he drifted over to the table with the trio.
"Good morning fellas!" he interjected a bit awkwardly into their conversation but the young men didn't seem to mind. Danny felt his heart skip a bit when those cool blue eyes met his green orbs. The blonde offered a kind smile as he titled his head to the side inquisitively. All Danny's mind could conjure up in a coherent thought was how adorable this young man presented to be. A long pause stretched between them.
"I appreciate you coming all the way over here to tell us good morning" Richie's playful laugh rang like bells in Danny's ears "But did you need a minute? You look tired." A hot blush dusted across the waiter's cheeks as he fumbled to turn to a blank page to write on.
"Oh! Sorry about that," Danny stumbled a bit, "What can I start you off with?" His green eyes never let Richie's despite being tasked with tending to the table. Tim exchanged looks with Virgil understanding the new shift in energy that Richie wasn't reading.
Virgil smirked, glancing at his friends before looking back at Danny. "Well, since you're writing everything down, how about we start with some coffee?" The waiter nodded scribbling the order onto his notepad as he stole a few more glances of Richie before shifting his gaze to Tim.
"I'll have the early bird breakfast plate with hash browns," Tim gathered up the menus from the table and tucked them away on the small condiment stand. Richie offered his friend a quiet thank you before turning his attention back to the waiter.
"Let's do the order for the whole table," Richie's eyes glanced over for Virgil's confirmation before proceeding, "Could you also make the coffee strong? It's been a long night." Danny replied with a softer confirmation as he forced his body to move away from the table and return to the kitchen. As he walked, his mind replayed the brief interaction, searching for a chance to express his interest. Danny's stomach twisted with uncertainty, the weight of potential rejection settling heavily on his shoulders. Despite the trio's open demeanor, he grappled with the fear of offending his customers he'd serve until Jessica finally decided to show up. Freaking Jessica.
The waiter sidestepped past the cooks to find the small coffee tucked away in the corner next to the bulky stainless steel fridges. The old machine processed the grounds in a loud sputter and Danny began collecting creams and sugar packets to carry with him. He delicately dried off the freshly washed mugs in the dishwasher as he prayed for a sign—anything—that allowed him to move forward on his hunch. Tilting his back a bit, Danny closed his eyes and allowed himself to breathe in the scent of their strongest dark roast. In his mind, Danny replayed the details of those icy blue eyes—so striking against the warmth of the blonde's sunlit hair. He wondered what it would feel like to intertwine his fingers with those of the captivating young man. A small glimmer of metal flashed in the corner of his eyes, causing the waiter to squint. Peeking through the small crowd, Danny spotted a small gold earring gleaming in the dim light—a subtle but significant detail that adorned the blonde's right ear. A thrill of excitement surged through him, grateful for this small but clear sign. Pouring the fresh cups of coffee, the waiter gathered up the order onto a small tray and confidently stride over to the corner table. Setting the black tray behind him on an empty table, Danny distributed the cups of coffee until reaching the blonde that sat on the outer edge of the table. He took extra care to slowly set the cup down but not before meeting Richie's kind gaze once more.
"You know," Danny's voice dropped to a sultry whisper, a playful glint in his green eyes as he leaned in close, "I'd be more than happy to sweeten up that coffee for you." The blonde's breath hitched as he chewed this bottom lip in thought. The waiter flashed him a wolfish grin ignoring the other two men that held up the table.
"Oh, no thanks," Richie said, oblivious to the flirtatious undertone. "I don't take sugar in my coffee." His cheerful response seemed to sail over Danny's head, leaving the waiter with a hint of disappointment.
Danny's grin widened. "Ah, I see," he murmured, leaning in just a bit closer. "You're a man who likes his coffee—" his voice dipped to an enticing murmur "—raw and unfiltered. I can definitely relate." His eyes locked onto Richie's, the playful challenge in his voice. Richie, caught off guard, stared back, his expression a mix of surprise and confusion. He seemed either unphased or blissfully unaware of the underlying flirtation. Tim took note of Virgil's subtle shift to position his chest to point towards the waiter. Virgil's muscles tightened a bit as brown eyes narrowed a bit in annoyance.
"Oh, well sugar makes me sick," Richie shrugged his shoulders letting loose a nervous laugh suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. The super genius grew a bit concern by the sudden close proximity but didn't want to cause a scene for his friends. Virgil seized the moment to deflect attention, slamming his mug down between the two men with a resounding thud that made the cups rattle. The loud noise drew everyone's focus, causing Danny to lean back with a touch of annoyance at the interruption.
"I love sugar. Got some for me?" Virgil's light tone laced but held an edged to it, something Tim had instantly recognized. For a brief moment, the men locked eyes in an unspoken challenge. The waiter narrowed his eyes refusing to back down. Virgil broke the tension with a deep chuckle amused at the waiter's attempts to rattle him. Danny rolled his eyes and placed some sugar packets on the table for the young man to grab. Virgil flashed an evil grin before a snicker slipped through his lips.
"Did I say sugar? I mean some cold creamers," Virgil's voice cooed in a mocked politeness, "Do you mind?" His head tilted back towards the kitchen with an exaggerated casualness, as if he were making the simplest of requests. Then, with a self-satisfied smirk, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a posture that screamed cockiness.
"What flavor?" Danny asked, his voice tight and controlled as he fixed his gaze on the dark-skinned young man. Virgil feigned deep contemplation, dragging out the moment with an exaggerated pause, clearly enjoying the chance to further irritate the waiter. Feeling the boredom begin to creep in, Tim settled his face into his right hand. His sunglasses hid his analytical gaze that wondered between Virgil & Richie. Richie quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms in disapproval at his best friend's antics. His piercing gaze was a silent reprimand directed at his best friend's antics, a look that spoke volumes without a single word. Noticing Richie's frustration, Virgil quickly reined in his childish outburst. He decided on a default flavor that was always ordered when he didn't feel like asking for more options.
"Caramel mocha," Virgil's tone soften, trying to appear innocent. Danny stood there wanting to deny the request but knew it would be a long night if he started this fight. Instead, the young waiter excused himself to return to the kitchen area and retrieve the items. Tim watched for Richie's reaction unable to turn off his strategic brain. The blonde's face was tighter, his feature drawn into a frustrated frown, but not angry. He more upset by Virgil's immature behavior, than the waiter's attempts to garner his attention.
"Don't be an ass," Richie scolded Virgil in a low whisper trying not to draw more attention to their table. There was never any hesitation about his delivery, his tone firm and direct as always.
"You're ashamed of me!" Virgil laughed as he leaned against Richie to touch their shoulders together—an act that was meant to soften the mood. Richie grumbled a half-hearted threat, something about tossing Virgil into the alley with the rats, but Virgil paid it no mind, knowing full well that Richie's bark was far worse than his bite.
Danny returned with a pocket full of frosty creamer packets for the table. Reaching into his apron pocket, he gently handed them off to Richie to distribute the extra creamers among themselves. His fingertips lingered against the blonde's palm inviting the blue orbs to drink in his presence. A pink dusted Richie's cheeks at the gentle contact and he shifted his gaze away from the toothy grin. Danny, his own smile widening with a hint of mischief, shot Virgil a cocky grin reminiscent of the one he had used moments earlier. Despite having already served their food, Danny found reasons to return to their table, his attention focused solely on Richie. Richie was polite and asked about the young man's ambitions and the waiter's heart fluttered at the interest. He remained in engaged nodding thoughtfully as Danny explained his goals of becoming a nurse after he saves up enough money to attend medical school. Virgil, meanwhile, struggled to mask his ever growing irritation, his attempts to subtle roll his eyes epically failing. Tim watches the melodrama unfold in front of him with amusement thankful that Batman had trained him well enough to hide his facial expressions. Virgil tried muttering under his breath but his protests were quietly buried under the polite conversation. Tim, feeling a surge of confidence in his hypothesis, remained observant, aware that even the most promising theories need thorough testing before conclusions are drawn.
"You know, Danny," Tim's voice cut through the murmur of conversation with a playful edge, "Richie comes into town pretty often to hang out." The remark, though casual, was laced with potential indications. Danny's eyes sparkled at the suggestion excited by the idea of being able to see the blonde on a regular basis. Virgil's expression contrasted with a pitiful look of kicked puppy dog. His his shoulders slummed and his brown eyes burned with an intense envy. Tim winked at his friend fanning the flames further. Virgil's eyes narrowed trying to burn a hole through his friend while Tim played with the table creamer packets ignoring him.
Another 45 mins passed before Richie let out a long yawn and decided to glance at his phone for messages. His eyes widened in shock when the numbers 3:17 am lit up across his locked screen. The trio had been out for nearly 2 hours and they had promised Shenice that they would be back in the city by now to debrief. Several concerned text messages remained unread. The blonde sighed in an exhausted defeat after he calculated the amount of sleep they would be getting once they return to Dakota City—just under 90 mins—that is if they hauled ass. Richie muttered a few curse words before apologizing to Danny for cutting their conversation short. The waiter stood up with a bit of disappointment.
"I'll get you guys cashed out," the waiter slowly walked to the cash register and began typing their orders into the small machine. Richie was the first to stand taking the opportunity to stretch his stiff muscles but before he could follow Danny, Virgil stepped away from the table determined to reach the check first. Richie, with an unsatisfied frown, protested that it was his turn to pay but the comment fell on deaf ears. Virgil quickly reached the counter and pulled out $40 to hand to Danny.
"Keep the change," Virgil glanced at the nearby exit wanting to to leave as soon as possible. The exhaustion washing over him made it more difficult to conceal his distaste for the man in front of him.
"How generous," Danny forced a smile as he placed the bills into the register, "It was nice speaking with your table."
"With Richie," Virgil corrected in a sharp tone with a challenging stare. He crossed his arms and scoffed. Danny let loose a soft chuckle at the abrasive display of desire.
Danny let out a soft chuckle, the sound rich with amusement at Virgil's display. The abrasiveness of Virgil's attitude only seemed to amuse him more. "Yeah," Danny leaned in closer, a wolfish grin spreading across his face, his eyes flicking toward the approaching men. He lowered his voice to a whisper, just for Virgil's ears. "When I take him out, I'll send you a souvenior."
Virgil's temper flared with his blood boiling. A part of him wanted call out the inappropriate behavior in front of the entire diner with all of his coworkers and bosses. The other part wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face like they do in the streets. But before he could act, Tim and Richie reached the counter, their presence pulling Virgil back from the edge. He took a deep, steadying breath, forcing himself to calm down. Virgil took a deep breath and headed towards the exit with Tim behind him. Richie, oblivious to the heated exchange, lingered at the counter. He stayed back thanking the waiter for his polite conversation which caused Virgil's chest to ache. The cool air flushed against his face brought him a sense of reality as he grounded his emotions. The diner's doors chimed signaling Tim's exit. The he stood next to Virgil quietly rocking on the balls of his feet with hands in his hoodie pocket. Their backs towards the window, they waited for Richie to finish his goodbyes with the waiter. Tim remained silent, letting the tension between them dissipate naturally, his presence a calming influence as the energy around them slowly lightened. After a few more minutes of patient waiting, Richie left the diner with a small piece of paper in his right hand. His smile tired, but still held the famous sunlight behind his grin.
"I'm glad we came out tonight," Richie's voice cheerful, "We made a new friend!" The blonde flashed the paper in front of his two friends with a bit of excitement as his blue eyes sparkled.
"Well, more than a friend," Tim laughed a bit guiding Richie to the point he hoped the super genius would pick up. Richie's head tilted to the side
"He wants to sleep with you," Virgil cut in, his tone rough and edged with irritation, "Throwing everything that he could to get your attention." A deep crimson painted Richie's face as his heart rate sped up. His eyes averted from the group trying to process the information analyzing the night's conversation. Slowly, the dots became connected as he shoved the number in his pocket.
"Oh," Richie fidgeted with his hoodie, "I'm sorry I didn't notice." The apology slipped out before he could stop it, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for. A part of him felt he should have picked up on the signals, should have known from the start.
"Richie it's fine," Tim stepped closer, his voice was soft and reassuring, hoping to ease whatever tension was left from their night. But before he could comfort his friend, Virgil's voice cut through their conversation.
"Are you going to call him?" Virgil's question burst out, raw and unconsidered, carrying a sharpness that caught even him by surprise. The words hung in the air as a challenge to answer. Richie blinked in confusion at the proposed question. The uncharacteristic bluntness from Virgil struck a strange chord, leaving Richie feeling not just taken aback, but also a bit wounded by the sudden shift in their dynamic. Tim watched the walls begin to build behind the blonde's eyes as Richie drew a blank expression. The brief silence that followed was heavy—unusual for their close relationship. Virgil watched as those blue eyes that connected with his begin dull into a protective mask. Richie's embarrassed expression dissolved and was replace with a neutral blank one devoid of emotion.
"Not that it's your business," Richie finally responded, his tone cool and measured, though a hint of hurt lingered beneath the surface. "But I might." With a shrug, Richie turned on his heels driving space between them. Humiliation, confusion, hurt, and anger swirled together in a chaotic dance, each emotion vying for dominance. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing as he dialed Shenice's number. When her sleepy voice answered, it took every ounce of his willpower to keep his tone even.
Meanwhile, Tim kept a close eye on Richie, his own thoughts whirling as he watched his friend struggle to regain his composure. "You guys will settle back at the mansion," Tim said, his voice calm but firm. He glanced at Virgil, who looked ready to protest, and raised a hand to silence him. "Everyone's cranky from three days with no sleep. Flying right now isn't a good idea." Virgil nodded realizing he didn't really have much say anyways. After Richie finished with his call, he returned to the group and Tim informed his friend of the change of plan. Richie agreed without hesitation with weary eyes and a sigh of relief that their journey home could wait a bit longer. Fifteen minutes later, Alred arrived, and the boys were safely escorted back to the mansion in the black limo. Each of them was given a separate room along with a bag of toiletries & a set of clothes to sleep in. After a few long showers, they retreated to the comfort of the soft sheets and puffy blankets that engulfed their presence. Virgil laid in the oversize soft bed trying his best to settle down his active brain. Every time he closed his eyes, thoughts of Richie flooded his mind. The memory of their earlier confrontation gnawed at him, the guilt heavy in his chest. He scolded himself for thinking about the bedroom across the hall where Richie slept. His body itched to get up, to knock on Richie's door and apologize. The urge to ask if they could have a sleepover like they did in middle school—complete with pillow forts, late-night snacks, and long conversations—was almost unbearable. But the fear of his best friend's rejection kept him in avoidance. His body thrashed under the sheets trying to get comfortable hoping that warm slumber would provide him a little peace from his actions. Nothing was working.
Virgil kicked off the sheets until they pooled on the red carpet beneath his feet. His body rose to pace the room but his eyes fell onto the digital alarm clock set on the end table beside bed—4:17 am. He released a defeated sigh deciding that the room was much too small to get any thinking done. Determined to find a more open space, he briskly walked towards the door, his footsteps muffled by the carpet. He steadied himself trying to listen for any moment within the hallway. After a tense minute, he decided the coast was clear. With a slow, deliberate motion, he turned the handle and pushed the door open. As the door creaked slightly on its hinges, Virgil's eyes widened in surprise. There, standing in the dimly lit hallway just outside his room, was a smaller figure. The dark haired teen froze as his hand reached out to knock but the door had disappeared before he could make contact. Virgil's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and his mouth open to ask why his friend was up so early, but he quickly closed his lips reminding himself that the question would only be deferred back to him. His brown eyes peered out into the hallway to see if anyone else was waiting with him, but Tim was alone.
"Hey," Tim greeted in a soft tone with a bit of warmth, "I thought you would be having trouble sleeping."
"Yeah," Virgil responded without his usual edge. At a loss for words, he stepped to the side, wordlessly inviting Tim into the room. Tim entered and sat on the edge of the bed watching to see if Virgil would settle with him. Virgil quietly shut the door behind them and walked closer to the bed where Tim sat. He thought about sitting down but standing helped his nerves so he opted to leaning against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest, his posture a mix of defensiveness and contemplation. Tim's eyes scanned his friend's tense form. He chewed the inside of his cheeks considering how he wanted to bring up his topic. After a moment of searching for the right approach, he settled on being direct and honest, hoping to cut through the awkwardness and get to the heart of the matter.
"Tonight was something. I don't think I've ever seen you jealous before," Tim's posture relaxed as he leaned back against he pillows, "It would have been funnier if you weren't acting like such as ass to Richie." Virgil flinched at his friend's honesty but recovered and nodded. He sat looking at his hands hoping that a solution to his mistake would appear out of thin air.
"I—" Virgil began, but his voice faltered, the words failing him as he searched for a plausible excuse. He struggled, the silence stretching between them as Tim waited patiently, his eyes never leaving Virgil's tense form.
"I wasn't—"
"Whatever that was tonight," Tim interrupted, his tone firm and resolute, cutting through the jumbled words. "You need to apologize to Richie." Virgil sighed silently nodding in agreement. Virgil pushed himself away from the wall and walked a few feet away from the bed trying to put distance between them for a moment to think. His friend was right but it still hurt.
"I thought this crush would be gone by now, Tim," Virgil spoke his confession with a quiet fear, "I wasn't supposed to care like thi—that." He wrapped his arms around himself picturing Richie's comforting embrace and earthy cologne that he wore. Virgil kept his back towards Tim trying to hide the emptiness behind his eyes. He felt a crushing weight of weakness, as though he was unraveling from the inside out.
"So that's it?" Tim stood up from the bed taking a few steps forward to close their distance, "Your feelings are developing stronger so instead of asking him out you throw a temper tantrum?"
"That's not-," Virgil's frustration boiled over, and he turned to face Tim with a sudden burst of emotion. His voice was a tumultuous blend of anger and anguish, every word charged with the intensity of his inner turmoil. "I'm NOT supposed to affected like this! Not like-,"
"Like what?" Tim's question was sharp but curious, pushing Virgil to articulate the depth of his emotions. He continued to advance slowly, his steps careful and unhurried, mindful not to force Virgil further into retreat Normally Virgil pursued conflict until a solution was settled, but tonight his eyes trembled clouded with uncertainty. With a few feet between them, he turned to face Tim, the pain and frustration etched deeply into his features. With a trembling hand, he wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath to steady himself before speaking.
"It's just so hard to need someone," Virgil began, his voice quivering with raw emotion. His thoughts drifted to the memory of losing his mother, and he couldn't help but wonder if his father had endured the same kind of withdrawal, aching for the presence that was no longer there. "Waking up every day, craving every part of them—their smile, their laugh, their gaze...How am I supposed to be calm?" Virgil fought his instincts to pace around the room so instead he began breathing harder trying to keep his volume down. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in as if threatening to crush him, and Richie's absence felt like a gaping void.
"This is so fucking stupid. I'm stupid," he continued, his frustration mounting. "When I started getting ahead of myself I said 'Virgil it's just a puppy crush. You get them all the time. You love to fall in love.' And I thought that was enough but here I am 6 months later fighting with waiters?!" Virgil titled his head back and covered his face with his hands trying to settle the bubbling emotions that threatened another outburst. A broken laugh slipped through his lips trying to conceal the storm that raged inside his chest. Tim observed silently waiting for his friend to ground himself once more.
"Sounds like you really like him," Tim said softly, a hint of teasing lightening his tone.
Virgil, his face still wet from tears, removed his hands and let out a low, rueful chuckle. The sound was bitter but laced with affection. He looked at Tim with a resigned smile, acknowledging the understatement but simply replied, "Yeah, I really do." Then, without waiting for further discussion, he walked past Tim and collapsed face-first onto the soft bed. The plush mattress absorbed him, offering a brief respite from the emotional turmoil. Virgil wondered, in the haze of his thoughts, just how damaging it might be to suppress his emotions. Batman had done it for decades, after all, and he seemed to have managed just fine. Tim walked back to the bed and sat down next to his friend with a plop. The mattress dipped slightly under Tim's weight, his presence a grounding force beside his friend.
"Look," Tim attempted again, the firmness returning in his voice, "I understand that you're overwhelmed right now, but avoiding your feelings isn't working. You need to talk to him." Virgil groaned in protest muffling his response by the sheets. Tim rolled his eyes at his childish behavior. He stood up, stretching his arms, and walked back toward the door. Before leaving, he added one last remark, a teasing challenge in his tone.
"Or don't do anything and let someone else—like another Danny—make Richie happy," Tim smiled at the sudden shifting from the bed knowing that Virgil had sat up to retort something but was too late with the door closing behind him. As he made his way back to his own bedroom at the end of the hall, Tim's smirk remained, a reflection of his belief that sometimes a little push could accelerate the process of facing one's fears.