Title:
The Shock of Reality
Author: Goddess of 7s
Summary: Reality has it’s ups and downs and for most
people doesn’t evolve meta humans. Virgil
faces a reality where Static can’t help.
Spoilers: the very last episode (unsure of the title) where Virgil’s dad finds out
about the Super hero bizz.
Rating:
umm R to NC-17 Rape is mentioned and eluded to, but not described rating
by part with apply if I feel that it is a extreme change.
Pairing: eventually Richie/Virgil
Warnings: Violence, lots of angst, rape and eventually descriptive sex (the parts will be
labeled clearly!)
Disclaimer:
"Static Shock" belongs to the WB, DC and many others. I don't own them, don't
make any money off of this, it's all for fun, please don't sue me. But if it convinces you to make new episodes then
by all means do so.
Distribution: Let me know! I would like to
visit. Also at my personal page https://www.angelfire.com/weird2/butterlfywings
A/N:
I usually write CSI but for some reason this story popped into my head I didn’t even
read Static Shock before this idea, I tracked down what little fiction I could find and
decided to put my CSI story on hold and share this with ya’ll. If you have any fiction recommendations, please
feel free to share.
Virgil
was dead tired, couldn’t even muster enough energy to chuckle at the thought. He and Gear had been up for 3 days straight
battling a new meta human.
He couldn’t be bothered to remember her name right now. The final battle had lasted for hours and he
didn’t even have enough juice to light bulb right now.
By the end they were having to resort to Zap Caps and
Gear’s tools. They had flown most of the
way landing in an alley between their houses and changing into their street clothes,
changing from Static and Gear to Virgil and Richie two 15 years olds in desperate need of
sleep. Barely conscious of the thought Virgil
again thanked his Pops for being so understanding of his superhero hours. He might even let him skip the first few periods
and sleep in late. He walked forward in a
methodical plod too tired at times to even open his eyes as every step jarred his tired
body. His mind even more exhausted then his
body felt it didn’t hardly react when someone grabbed him from behind holding his
arms to his sides.
He
struggled briefly against what felt like bands of steel wrapped around him pinning his
arms down, but he couldn’t find any leverage. He
watched in shock and terror as two big bruisers approach as he was dragged further into
the alley. He knew a helpless situation when
he saw and knew that he’d need help for this one.
He opened his mouth prepared to yell his throat hoarse, hoping that Gear was close
enough still to hear the calls. Unfortunately
the thugs weren’t as stupid as one would hope and gagged him before he could even get
going. He kicked out trying to keep them away
but they just dodged and laughed, insanely reminding Virgil of hyenas as they closed in on
a kill. Panic and roaring filled his ears to
the point where he could barley hear what the thugs were saying. He almost wished he couldn’t hear what they
were saying at all. “Looks
like we caught us a pretty one. Can’t wait until I break into that sweet ass.” The apparent leader stepped closer his intentions
known. Virgil felt a surge of adrenalin hit
boosting his engery. For
a short moment power built around them but it quickly died down, leaving the thugs
confused but not harmed, they seemed single minded in their pursuit as the shrugged off
the weird power surge and grinned at him their mouths open, grinning maws that swallowed
him whole and in the distance, or maybe it was right there, Virgil heard the sound of
jeans ripping and felt the cold night air on his legs.
It
had been minutes or hours since the thugs had left, Virgil wasn’t sure how long he
waited curled in the corner of the alley shivering, hoping that they wouldn’t be
returning. The lighting of the sky told him
that maybe it had been hours and that Pops was gonna be worried. They were gone, he told
himself and himself replied, what if they
weren’t? Finally he could take the
cold and uncertainty no more and gather up the energy to stand. His pants refused to stay up, ripped as they were
but he couldn’t walk exposed. He rummaged
a bit through the garbage, bending over made his head dizzy, and pulled out a bit of rope
frayed on both ends, but usable for his purposes. Passing
it through the intact belt loops on his jeans he made two passes and tied it in a double
knot in the front. His pants still sagged a
bit on his left hip and gaped open in a few places, but he felt more protected. He trailed his right hand along the wall using it
as support and guiding as the world seemed weird and distorted. He then began the slow and painful trek home. His brain basically on auto
pilot.
Mr.
Hawkins had fallen asleep on the couch again. This seemed to be happening more and more now that
he knew that Virgil was Static. He trusted
Virgil more now then ever and probably gave him too much leeway because of the guilt he
felt for being so hard on Virgil before. How
was he to have know that the asking for a raise in allowance
was to buy a new uniform. He had asked to see
what they did everyday that wasn’t on the news and had no idea the work that they
both put into the superhero business. He was
mightily impressed with the layout of their abandoned gas station. There was a washing machine and dryer, shower, mini
fridge and even an old beat up couch that pulled out into a bed. He was less impressed with why they had all these
things, most of it seemed to involve avoiding people, mainly him, from finding out the
truth.
He
woke to the sound of the door opening, noting the time on the clock he controlled his
anger and instead asked where Virgil had been. There
was always a good explanation now a days. Virgil didn’t respond verbally but he turned
and faced his dad. The first thing Mr. Hawkins
noticed was how off Virgil looked like there was
no one home behind the vacant eyes. The next
was the state of his clothes. He was covered
in garbage with pieces of paper and part of a banana peel in his hair. His pants were being held up with a piece of rope
and there was blood on them. “Virgil?” He looked in looked into his face and saw something
that he had never thought to see in his own child’s face. He had talked to several kids at the center that
had been raped, several girls and even a couple of guys.
They all had this look of trauma that he had never seen present in any of the faces
of other kinds of trauma, a look of darkness that he now saw in Virgil’s face.
“
“What
why? Daddy what’s going on?”
“Look
“But
Dad-“
“
The
ER wasn’t exceptionally busy, the doctors and nursing staff were considerate and low
key after he explained what he suspected had happened.
Virgil remained passive through the ordeal until the nurse insisted that he remove
his pants. He had started to freak out and
thrash but he had calmed down and the fog had lifted for a few short minutes,
“Pops?”
“Virgil. I know that you were..attacked. You
might not want to talk about it now, but the doctors need to check you out. Don’t fight them, please,
I know how hard it is. I’ll be right here
with you through the whole thing, I’ll make sure that they don’t hurt you.”
“Pops,
I’m afraid.” He offered his support
the best way he knew, he pulled Virgil into a hug and just held him.
“I
know son, but no matter what happens I’ll always be here and I’ll always love
you.” Virgil looked up and not exactly
smiled but his lips lifted a bit and tears shown in his eyes until they overflowed and ran
down his cheeks to dangle on the tip of his chin until he buried his face into his
father’s shoulder where he sobbed silently.
When
the doctor came in to do a rape kit on Virgil he offered a mild sedative and painkiller
which Virgil gladly accepted. During the
examine Virgil remained tense holding Pops hand tightly enough to bruise. Virgil was exhausted but too tense to sleep during
the examine but with the combination of drugs, but mostly the safety of having his dad
here was what really made him feel safe enough to drift off.
It showed how much of Virgil was really in Static, despite how many bad guys had
received the beat down, the countless number of days saved Virgil still felt the safest
with his dad holding his hand.
The
doctor came and talked about check ups and antibiotics.
Following on his heels were two cops. Pops
tried to put Virgil’s hand down so he could step out in the hall to talk to the cops
but Virgil stirred and groaned. Instead he
motioned them closer.
“We
can talk here just be quiet about it.”
The
cops were dressed in suits and flashed they’re badges at him. “I’m Detective Jims and this is Detective
Carlton. You reported a rape?”
“Yes. Virgil my son came home early this morning and I
could tell that he had been assaulted. I
don’t know if he’s ready to talk about it yet.” He looked down at his son lying on the bed frowning
with a crease in his forehead from bad dreams. “Can
he wait to give his statement for a couple of days? Let the shock settle down and give him
time?”
Detective
Pops
smiled down at Virgil, “he’s stronger than even he knows.”
The
detectives thanked him and gave him a card. The
doctor gave him prescriptions for pain pills and antibiotics plus samples enough to last
him a day. After 20 minutes of paper work he
wrapped Virgil up in the hospital clothes given them after the police had taken
Virgil’s clothes as evidence. The trip
back was quiet with Virgil drifting in and out of sleep.
Pops helped him stagger up the stairs to his room and dress him in pajamas where he
then crashed out on his bed asleep almost instantly. Pops
stayed for a short while to make sure that Virgil was really asleep and wouldn’t need
him. He walked down the stairs to talk with
his daughter sitting on the couch worried. “
Daddy
came down the stairs after what seemed like hours but was probably only half of one. He looked so haggard, he’s been looking more
and more worn down over the last few months. Something
is going on between him and Virgil. I’ve
noticed the long looks and how Virgil’s allowance has increased. Daddy is always letting things slide too. Virgil will come home late from curfew and Daddy
won’t say anything. It makes me so
mad! What’s so special about Virgil? I wasn’t feeling any of that anger right now. Just worry beating down on me like sleet. I just had no earthly idea of why Virgil needed to
go the hospital. When he came home he was
limping a little and obviously gorked out of his mind. I could tell from the resigned way that Daddy came
down the stairs that very bad news indeed was to come.
Some insane, worried and frightenly realistic part of
my brain started running scenarios like maybe Virgil had cancer or was dying or or or the list went on with each
possibility more unlikely and violent than the last. I
followed Daddy into the kitchen planning on forcing him to tell me what was going on
before I lost what was left of my mind. After
all the truth couldn’t be any worse then the things I was imagining right?
I
raced up the stairs, noting the twinge of pain in my left knee, knowing I’d be paying
for this mad dash later and not caring. Now
that I was closer to Virgil’s room I could clearly hear what he was saying. “No! Stop! Don’t, stop!” Repeating over and over in no
pattern. I hadn’t closed the door
tightly when I’d left so all I needed to do was nudge it a bit to open. Virgil lay on the bed twisting around,
the sheet that had been draped over him was tangled about his legs causing Virgil to panic
more when he couldn’t move them. There was bits of lighting streaking from Virgil’s fingers, but it was
weak, more like exaggerated static electricity then actual voltage. I knew that the process of waking up would be harsh
on both him and Virgil but I’m unable to watch my son in distress so I dove in and
grabbed him in a hug shouting his name hoping to wake him up. Virgil struggled against me at first, but soon the
struggling tapered off and turned to sobbing. Virgil
started talking but with his face buried in the crease of my neck making only a few words
audible, “3 of them…tried….couldn’t stop…worthless.” Eventually the crying tapered off into sniffles and
I went to put Virgil back on the bed but Virgil tightened his arms around my neck and
asked in the smallest, littlest voice I’d ever heard my son use, “please Poppy
don’t go.” Poppy, God Virgil
hadn’t called me that since he was six and half.
I know my back is going to bother me about this later, but I don’t really care
I settled down in the bed, half propping myself up on the pillows and wall. I had Virgil,
or at least as much would fit laying in my lap with his arms
looped around my neck. Virgil’s hair kept
getting in my mouth and nose making me infinitely glad that Virgil took a shower at the
ER. I cradled my son, who in some ways would
always be my baby, to my chest, taking a moment to be thankful that Virgil was still
alive.
I
stared in shock at the scene I had just witnessed. Virgil
was cuddling up with Daddy as if he were a five year old seeking comfort from a nightmare. I heard what Virgil had said but my mind skittered
around the meaning unable or unwilling to consider the meaning behind the words. Instead I focused on something infinitely more
manageable and tangible and that’s the little bolts of lighting that were coming from
Virgil’s hands. I had been certain at
some point that Virgil was Static but some how that brat managed to get an illusion or
something to trick me. That stinker! What he couldn’t just tell me? I felt my ire cooling however as I watched Daddy
comforting Virgil with soft words and softer hands. Whatever
had happened it was bigger than Static, or no not bigger
than Static, but big in a way that affected Virgil, Daddy and me more than Static
obviously had since Virgil had managed to hide it from us for so long.
Virgil
quieted and the sniffles trailed off into mild snores and from the way Virgil was draped
over Daddy we weren’t going anywhere. Eventually
Daddy looked up at me, his face marred with frown lines, he
must have seen something in my eyes, some kind of knowledge because he didn’t bother
to tell me Virgil was Static. Instead he
started to speak in low tones, gently stroking Virgil’s hair. By the word rape my knees started to wobble and I
had to sit down. I ended up sitting on a pile
of dirty laundry and a notebook from school. The
binder was cutting into my leg, I couldn’t be bother to
care, it detracted just a little from the pain in my heart.
How could this happen? Every girl
thinks sometimes about the risk of rape. The
Center had seminars occasionally about ways to protect yourself, how you should shout
Fire! instead of Help! because
people didn’t respond to help. Never had
I seen a guy attend one of these meetings. I
had never thought of the possibility of Virgil or any other guy at risk for rape. This all seemed so unreal, but watching as my baby
brother cuddled closer to Daddy whimpering slightly I knew that every word of it was true. That the harsh reality of everyday criminals had
broken through into our family. The truth hit
harder then any punch to the solar plexus and I started to sob. Knowing that Daddy couldn’t leave Virgil but
that I needed his comfort more than I had ever had in the past I scooted along the floor
to lean against Daddy’s leg and his hand came down to rest on my head to offer as
much comfort to both of us that he could.
Damn V has it
lucky. Ever since Mr. H found out about the
hero thing he’s been cutting Virg so much slack.
My dad would never understand, but fortunately for me trickle down economics works
better in a small family setting. V’s
raise in allowance got me those suspension coils I’d been lusting after. Mr. H was so great about me sleeping over all the time, he’d helped bandage us up a couple of times. Sure I was a little jealous but it was hard to stay
that way for any length of time since V shared everything with me including his Pops. I couldn’t help the envy that snuck up on me
because V was lying home in bed and I was sitting through the physics from hell. Wrong, wrong, okay that was right but still 2 out
of 3 is kinda bad. I watched the time slowly ticking away, wasted
second, wasted second, wasted second, God I’m sure as hell inventing a machine that
speeds up time, or maybe a solid hologram AI interface so I
don’t actually have to attend physics. I spend the rest of the period doodling
the complex equations in my notebook. The bell
rang and bounced out of my chair like there was a spring in my ass and sped out the door
like there was hounds of hell at my heels. My mind was screaming FREEDOM but my feet were
actually acting on it. The first place to head
was V’s house for sustenance and to pick up one lazy ass well rested friend for some
patrol and practice.
V’s house was
close by bus further by foot but a truly fun flight away would be the best. I quickly found a place to change into my uniform
and then I was in the air lying on my back kicking up dust and shouting to the heavens. I pin wheel and sky rocket through the air
celebrating living and reveling in the euphoria of freedom from mind numbing school. I couldn’t resist and found myself yelling at
the top of my lungs “Yeeeeeehhhhhhaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!”
Far too soon I was
forced to land, seriously considering a detour from my chosen path to stay in the air a
little longer but I bolstered myself to land knowing that when I next took off I’d
have a partner in joy.
I
walked into V’s house like it was my own, in a way it was almost, every day of the
week you could find clothes, books, and hygiene material of mine about in nooks and
crannies of V’s room and in the bathroom like I actually lived here. If you go on time spent I did actually live here. Bored in American History last week I calculated in
my head time spent at various major places. V’s
place was a the top of the list at 37.65 percent closely
followed by The Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude at 32.47.
There were some various other places but my hours ended up second to last at 17.29
percent at home and 15.72 of that was spent sleeping or attempting to sleep, any way you
cut it my house was a place I stored my stuff not my heart.
She
looked up at me her eyes blood shot, “no, just I, you should talk to Virgil.” I decided not to question her further from the look
of seriousness on her face.
When I woke up my
head was clean of the soft cottony feel of drugs and shock.
I also felt just a little warm, my clothes were going to be so sticky when I got up
and even though I felt pressure building in my bladder I couldn’t muster the energy
to move from the warm safety of my pops arms. I
lay there as long as I could stand reveling in the strength and love offered by his arms. I looked up at Pops with his glassed cocked funny,
his head tilted back at a painfully acute angle. I
know his back would be killing him for pulling this kinda
stunt, but he did it anyway for me. Looking at
him I felt my heart swell with love for just a moment driving away the darkness. The relief lasted only 1 second maybe 2 before
reality came crashing down, but it gave me hope. In
the superhero business you become nothing if not pragmatic and if I could go 2 seconds not
thinking about IT then maybe next time
it’ll be 5 then 10 until I can go minutes without thinking about IT. That’s
how I thought about IT, big bold capital
letters I couldn’t bring myself to even think the R word. Reluctantly I disengaged my arms from around Pops
neck trying not to wake him. I tried to
soundlessly slide off Pop’s lap to the floor unfortunately moving cause the dull
throbbing in my ass to spike uncontrollably and I couldn’t stifle it all so a low
moan escaped.
“humm….Virgil?” Pops shifted and muttered.
“It’s
okay,” even though it’s not, “you can go back to sleep.” You deserve the rest.
The trip to the bathroom was arduous and made me feel like a shuffling invalid. I stared in the mirror trying to see the difference
I feel but the only thing that looked back were a set of
over-tired eyes. I couldn’t see what made
that face in the mirror special. With a white
mask on, it was very special, always goading bad guys to try and stop him, break him. Without the mask though, there was no reason to
look twice. It was the randomness of the
attack that galled. I haven’t been safe
since I became Static. Though
most of the danger was to Static himself. Oh
it still affected me directly with dangers ti
I
must’ve drifted off because I woke to the sound of Richie on the stairs. It was comforting in it’s familiarity until
panic set in with the knowledge that I had to tell him.
For a brief second I contemplated not telling him, for knowledge of something like
this changes a person, but that would never work. Richie
knows me better than myself sometimes. He
would know something was wrong and it would hurt and worry him to not tell him. He’s been with me through so much I
couldn’t stand to do that, to consciously hurt him.
The door creaked open, no knock, not that that was unusual.
The
jubilant energy that usually followed him after school was subdued,
he already knew something was up. “Rich,”
my voice soft, not loud enough to wake my Pops, “last night,” I look away from
his expectant face, the sunshine outside my window is safer.
I know Richie won’t stop being my friend over this but a part of me
that’s gained voice since last night says, what
if he does? “After
we separated. There were these guys. They um they grabbed me. I couldn’t fight them. I was so weak.
I let them, they, god, forced themselves on me.”
I had to look at Richie , but I had to not look. My emotions were all over the place and I
couldn’t decide what to do. Then Richie
stepped close deciding for me when our eyes met in the reflection in the glass.
5 minutes ago
Richie’s POV
The
first place I looked when I got into V’s room was the bed. I was more than surprised to see Mr. H laying there
snoozing away fully clothed and wearing glasses. Virgil
was curled up almost like a cat at his head and would at times reach down and touch Mr. H
like he was making sure he was still there. I
caught Virgil’s eyes for a quick second before they skittered away, besides the worry
that I saw in them there was something else, that I had never seen before. Something dark. He started to speak his voice low and soft I had to
strain to hear him. “Rich,” he turns
his face toward the window completely, I’ve never seen him like this, this pain is so
great, like when his mother died. “After we separated. There
were these guys. They um they grabbed
me.” I’ve never understood the
expression my blood ran cold until now because I swear my heart was somehow pumping ice. “They um they grabbed me. I couldn’t fight them. I was so weak.
I let them, they, god, forced themselves on me.”
God I couldn’t think, that hadn’t happened to me in what seemed like
forever. I focused on the word that seemed the
most important, forced. He said it in such
away that it meant something special, there was a long quiver in there that made it
breathless and I turned over the meanings I realized that he meant rape. My
mind blanked, utterly void, there was more stuff in a vacuum. Then I saw
Virgil, I saw the shame he felt and the fear and made it my own. Virgil had always shared everything with me, even
his burdens. This was no exception. I stepped forward to take up part of the yoke.
Virgil
wouldn’t look me in the eyes. I
didn’t want to admit how much that bothered me. Now
that Virgil was more aware he seemed to look away his attention flitting about resting
briefly everywhere and anywhere except my eyes. I’ve
always been thankful that Richie and Virgil can be such good friends to each other but
never this aware of the feeling. It was one of those things that you just noticed in
the back of your head, like we’re almost of toilet paper, or the laundry needs to be
done, I’m glad Richie and Virgil can be there for each other. I had thought about it a bit when Richie when
Richie had run away and again when I had found out about them being bang babies, but
somehow the feeling always seemed to be how much Virgil
was there for Richie. I was starting to
realize how there Richie was for Virgil. Of course this realization didn’t help the
awkward silence almost seemed to be a physical entity, like a whirl pool it gained force
the longer it went on. I shouldn’t have
been surprised, though I was, that Richie was the one with the
strength to break it.
“This
isn’t going to be easy. V and I, we did
research after that girl Amy came to the Center.”
Amy had been in
her early 20’s so she had stood out, it’d been right before the big bang, he and
V’d been shooting hoops in the gym waiting for Mr. H. She’d stumbled in and Virgil hadn’t even
turned around, concentrating more on his jump shot, “center’s closed. Come back tomorrow.”
“V,” I
elbowed him quietly in the side, he turned and opened his mouth to be offended but when
he’d caught sight of Amy he paused. She
was covered in dirt and blood her shirt torn, hugging a ripped
jacket close, she clearly needed help.
“Richie, get
Pops.” I jogged over to the side door and
yelled for Mr. H. He wasn’t that far away
but for a few seconds, but when I looked back things had been getting worse. She was backing away from V as if he had the
plague. Virgil had his hands up in the
Universal surrender symbol, but she just…cowered before him. She reacted even more violently to Mr. H. He figured out what was going on and called
I must’ve
zoned out a bit too long because Mr. H had to repeat himself. “You did?
Why?”
“Well V and I
wanted to be ready in case some one came in like that again.
So we know what to do.” I laughed
but the sound was anything but joy. It hit the
35 minute mark for how long V had been in the shower.
I frowned and excused myself.
I’ve spent
many an hour here in the shower. Especially
after I became Static, I’d wake up sore and stiff in the morning and the long
pounding heat of a shower just a little warmer than standable
was just the thing to make sitting still for 8 hours bearable. I’ve never run out of hot water before, or at
least not until today. The water didn’t
just turn from hot to cold it was a slow slide and I didn’t realize how cold it was
until I was shivering. I just felt
so….dirty. I went through half a bottle
of shower gel but I just didn’t feel clean. I
knew knew that it
was more psychological than physical but I couldn’t seem to stop scrubbing. Richie bless his heart
and his brain had probably calculated how much time I could spend in the shower before the
hot water ran out. Because he came bargaining
in, or well not barging, okay it was barging, but barging has always implied loudness or
intent to harm for me. Richie had neither. “V! You’re
shivering! You need to get out of there!”
I looked over at
Richie his eyes wide and his breath hurried, “S-s-sor-r-rry
Rich-ch, I just c-c-c-couldn’t seem
t-t-to get cl-cl-clean.”
I held out my hand trying to show him the filth through the clear shower curtain. Richie sighed in exasperation and grabbed a towel
off the rack, pulled the curtain aside and pulled me out of the shower, taking no notice
of getting himself wet. He quickly shut off
the shower and the wrapped me in the towel.
“Bro,”
worried was written across Richie’s face. Hold
on, when did my internal narrator get so dramatic? He
was worried but that doesn’t mean that someone had been decorating his face with a
marker. Richie and I are closer then brothers
I can tell if he’s worried without writing for God’s sake! He gets this I dunno
furrow right between the eyebrows, when he’s really worried he
tilts his head just a tiny bit to the left, as if a new perspective would improve things.
“It-it-it’s-s-s
ok-k-kay-y R-r-rich,” I cup his face with my hand, his
skin is so hot it sears my hand.
He sighs just a
bit, his shoulders slumping a bit, indicating that I added more weight to his shoulders
than took some away. “Yeah, V, it’s
okay.” He wraps an arm around me and
guides me out of the room, heat from his skin seeps in through the wet blanket.
It was hard
watching Virgil get dressed, almost as painful for me as it appeared to be for him. The slow movements and winces, I think I utilized
every facial muscle control I had available to not wince in return. I could’ve just left the room, but V
didn’t ask me to and we got dressed in front of each other all the time. I guess that a selfish part of me wanted the least
amount of change to occur from this. I just
feel that if I change the way we do something it’s like admitting defeat. V and I, were not ones
to give up.
When Mr. H had
woken up we’d all talked and Virgil decided to get the worst over with and go to the
police station tonight. Or it was tonight when
we were talking, it was tonight now and frankly I couldn’t tell if Virgil’s
shuffling limping pace was entirely from pain or a stall tactic. Either way it was defiantly time for a pain pill.
The report at the
police station was an entirely different kind of painful.
At first the police officers didn’t want me there, but V insisted. It was slow and tortuous to hear Virgil describe
the rape again. God he was so strong. I wonder sometimes, I don’t know if I would
have had the strength to walk in tell all that stuff to strangers, knowing it was being
recorded and written down. Maybe some day
I’ll ask V where he gets his strength, but somehow I think I already know the answer. The men didn’t wear a condom which helped with
prosecuting them but until the test results came back we had no idea of the STD’s
Virgil had been exposed to. From the quick
look of horror that flashed across his face, Virgil hadn’t even thought about that. None of us really had. A small hysterical part of my psyche whispered,
“at least we don’t have to worry about pregnancy.” Even though Virgil had only been up a few hours he
went right to bed and to sleep when we got back. I
think beyond physically tired he was mentally tired.
However much I
wanted to stay I needed to get out for patrol, at least a short one. Hugging Mr. H there was no need for words and as I
walked out the door I saw him picking up the phone and knew he was calling the list of
physiatrist the detectives had given us on the way out.
I knew that this time it wouldn’t be a flight of joy but one of duty.
It had been three
days since the attack and Virgil just kept getting more and more withdrawn. I’ve never seen my baby brother so…small. Even though he hadn’t lost much body mass
(meals seemed to consists of Virgil pushing food around his plate) he still appeared
reduced in size. While the shuffling limp had
improved everything else seemed to get worse. The
entire family was suffering from Virgil’s nightmares.
Richie even stayed over sometimes to help. He
was a fixture in our lives even more now that Virgil was…acting how he was. It’s hard to explain the way that everything
changed but it did. What seemed to surprise me
the most was Virgil’s lack of energy. I dunno if that’s
why he appeared so tiny but he’d always had this irrepressible energy, out spoken and
loud. I remember how much I always longed for
him to be quiet, about how he would yammer on, goading me, making rude comments about my
food. God, I don’t know what’d I do
to hear one of Virgil’s complaints about my food, but it would be something major,
cutting my hair, becoming a nun something
anything to have just that little piece of normalcy back.
Virgil’s first appointment with the psychiatrist is today. Somehow he’s even more
quiet, which I’m not sure how that’s possible considering his previous
non-talking status. He’s like a waif or
ghost drifting around the house, fading into walls, curled up in corners, taking up as
little space as possible.
Daddy had called
around and found this woman, Dr. Whatistis, I don’t
really remember since she has everyone call her Maggie.
She sounded really different, cheerful and friendly.
She used to be a child psychologist then her daughter was raped and she focused on
helping victims of violent crimes. She sounded
perfect but she had to pass one more test: Gear.
I hadn’t
really thought about the realization of Virgil being Static, if I had I would have figured
out that Richie was Gear but I hadn’t. So
when Richie comes in battered from a fight rambling on about fuel blockage and crash
landings I almost fell on my ass. He muttered
right through Dad bandaging his wounds and from how Dad didn’t even blink this was
probably a common occurrence. I managed to
compose myself while these two go through their routine.
Daddy gets around to mentioning Maggie and Richie perks up, paying attention to
what he’s saying.
“Virgil might
have to tell her about being Static. I should
do a background check just to be sure.” I
watch in shock as this metal monstrosity just emerges off Richie’s back. He pulls out this visor and starts reeling off
commands too fast for me to hear or maybe its too complicated for me to understand. Then it really hits me, I mean I knew, but I
didn’t know, that Richie is a genius. In
less than 5 minutes Richie had given this woman the all clear and I have no doubt that if
I asked him to tell me how many fillings she has he could and even which teeth they were
in.
I didn’t want
to get dressed. I feel like I’m floating
around in a miasma of emotions. I can’t
deal with them all, there’s too many and too much of each. So I do nothing.
I know that I’m falling further into depression, all these emotions I feel
drift, floating away on a fog of indifference. The
piece of hope I managed to muster had been buried and tainted by all the emotions
surrounding it but I couldn’t muster the energy to care, every thing feels so much
better rapped in muffling blanket of apathy. It
even buffered the pain. The antibiotics made
me nauseous, but didn’t say anything, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t seem to force food past the lump in
the throat. It worked both ways, food
wouldn’t go down, words wouldn’t come up. Pops and Richie think that this woman, this doctor,
Maggie can help. I have faith in them, but
this darkness feels too permanent, I don’t see a way up, only a way down. I could never tell either of them, I couldn’t
hurt them like that, but I think about it sometimes. Joining
Mom, or maybe there is no life after death, but a peaceful sleep that lasts eternity
sounds awfully, terribly good right now.
I didn’t
think I could find the energy to get out to the car. Maybe
Richie, Pops and
Maggie was 54 but
acted 20. I didn’t want to like her, but
it was hard not to. Even though her graying
hair was pulled back in a sever no-nonsense bun her personality
was free and loving. She didn’t ask about
the attack, she didn’t even ask about me. She
asked about Richie, Pops,
Maggie was just
how I had imagined her from the phone call. Her
office was a reflection of that. There was no
desk just a ring of chairs with pillows, plants and pictures about. She sat with us a serious expression on her face.
“Virgil’s
very depressed right now. He didn’t want
to talk about himself at all. The only time he
really perked up was when we talked about you guys. Now
I know he hasn’t been in school since the rape, but I think on Monday that he should
go back. Staying home any longer is just going
to allow him to wallow in this depression. You
have to help me on this, he can’t be coddled, keep up his house work load, expect him
to keep up his grades. Making excuses for him
just allows for the depression to be more effective. You
also have to be patient, don’t be too harsh and I know that grounding is a common
punishment method, but I don’t think his movements should be restricted, if he
actually wants to go out I think he should, but he should be punished if he does something
wrong. Give him more chores, assign work at
the Center that you manage; getting him out of the house is going to be half the battle. Now do you have any immediate questions that I can
help with?”
“Nightmares. He has these nightmares. I don’t know if there’s anything that you
can do to help, but I think the lack of sleep compounds all the problems already
present.”
She nodded
thoughtfully, “well that’s to be expected. I’ll
bring it up at the next session, see if Virgil would be
amenable to sleep aids. I would like to meet
with Virgil 3 times a week. At least for the first month. I
think we can scale back once he starts to settle better, we have to play it by ear. If anything happens feel free to call me. I want the family to meet with me once a week and I
think Richie should continue to come. Virgil’s
very close to you and I think that you will play an important part in his recovery.” I think we were all a little in shock at the short,
succinct speech. She herded us out the door
and directed me to the secretary. Even with
insurance paying 40 percent it was expensive. I
was going to have to dip into savings if I’m going to keep paying. It was worth it, not even worth a second thought. Only Virgil was worth the second thoughts and the
third thoughts, and frankly Virgil pretty much occupied all extraneous thoughts right now.
I almost went into
shock when Virgil walked into the classroom. Richie
has been like a ghost these last three days and if Richie has been a ghost Virgil has been
invisible. When I asked Richie about Virgil he
just mumbled something about being sick. Virgil
just sat there, his eyes vacant and pointed at the wall.
“Daisy, eyes faced forward.” My
head snapped around and I dutifully stared forward sneaking the occasional glance back at
Virgil.
Virgil slipped out
the door quickly and silently, maybe he’s been practicing his Richie impersonation. I call out to him to welcome him back, or well
maybe I was more curious as to why he was out. “Virgi-“ I
couldn’t even finish, Richie appeared in front of me, he’s always covering
Virgil’s back, making excuses for whenever he flakes off, not that it matter much
recently, Richie has been just as flaky.
I knew without
asking that Virgil didn’t want to talk to Daisy.
Other people might not have seen the slight tightening of his back that means
he’s getting ready for a throw-down, but then most people don’t fight beside him
every day. I knew that if he was feeling that
much hostility that inference was needed. I
also knew that beyond knowing the latest gossip Daisy was also concerned about V, so I
way-laid her nicely. V and I had talked and
the story was going to be that he was mugged. In
a way I just he had been, but what was stolen isn’t something you can just buy at the
corner store so I suppose it doesn’t count to most people.
“Hi
Daisy!” I wince at the false
cheerfulness in my voice but Daisy is too distracted trying to get around me. I match her move for move and wow I had no idea
that the super hero moves would pay off at the social scene of high school.
“Richie!” The frustration in her eyes bleeds into her voice.
I try to soften my
face but worry for Virgil makes me feel like rushing.
Frustrated and knowing that V’s gotten away she turns to me and crosses her
arms her whole demeanor screaming “go ahead tell me another lie” So I do. “V,
he was mugged had to go to the hospital and everything.” I see the serious concern flash across her face and
hastily add, “he’s okay now.”
The concern slides
into confusion, “why is he running, getting mugged isn’t anything to be ashamed
of.”
Uh oh we
hadn’t discussed this, think fast, c’mon, got it!
“He’s embarrassed because he wasn’t able to fight them off. I know it’s silly but it’s a sensitive
topic so maybe we could just not mention it?”
Daisy eyed me like
she was suspicious and drawled out a long oookkkkaaaayyy
deciding to accept it by the time she finished. I
watch her walk away and once she’s turned the corner I slump in relief.
The last class of
the day takes forever to get here but I was still shocked when the bell rang. I had been jumpy all day. Paranoid about being around so many people aware of
the constant bustle surrounding me, but if you had asked me what the teachers had said I
wouldn’t have a clue. I was so tired of
it all. I wanted to be normal,
or at least normal for me. It was finally
sinking in though that I couldn’t get back to there.
I could only go forward and I didn’t really feel like doing that.
Richie’s been
great though always there, covering for me and watching my 6. The jitters faded a bit when he was around, even on
a subconscious level I trusted him to make sure that nothing happened. It was a big day for me because now that school was
out I was going on patrol. Rich and I decided
to easy into it by going slowly, first patrols for maybe an hour and in daylight easin’ slowly back into Static duties. Changing into my Static costume felt like breathing
pure oxygen after drowning for four days. When
I was Static I was always so much more confidant, saying or doing things that I might not
as Virgil. Especially now. Static hadn’t been attacked, Static was
strong, fast and the bad guys feared and respected him.
I didn’t feel that as Virgil and as I flew around the city, free of the
constant fear, I felt alive.
The more I flew
the more joy that filled me burning away the fog of indifference, I wasn’t scared,
traumatized Virgil anymore, I was STATIC! Big, bad and larger than life.
Static hasn’t
been around for the last few days, neither hide or hair has
been seen of him. It was the perfect time for
a crime spree. First place to hit:
Gleeman’s Jewelry. Valentine’s
day was coming up and they should be well stocked.
I was making my escape with a bag full of loot when he showed up.
He stood over me
shading out the sun. “Now I don’t
think that an ugly mug like yours is gonna get you enough girlfriends for all those rings. Maybe you should just return them and go
peacefully.” Does Static even believe the
crap he’s spouting? A burst of
electricity explodes next to me on the wall. Guess
not. Well damn.
Static got his game on. He’s
lobbing ball lighting at me faster than I’ve ever seen him.
“Are you sure
that it’s me you have a problem with hero?”
I dodge down a storm drain leaving the loot behind and laughing at Static’s
incoherent scream of rage.
When I arrived on
the scene Static was no where to be seen, that is if you don’t have super sharp
trained to look for and knowing the habits of eyes. Fortunately
I was the only one in said possession of such eyes, which worked out well. I could find Static when I needed him and the bad
guys couldn’t. Judging from the scene a
major beat down took place and I knew he would head back to a safe place to lick his
wounds. He was at the first place I looked the
Gas Station of Solitude. We have to come up
with a better name.
It wasn’t
Static sitting there. It was Virgil in his
Static costume. There’s a finely hued
difference. It somewhat has to do with posture
and set of jaw. It was also mostly
indefinable. V had his mask off and was
staring at it. It looked like maybe he thought
the answers to the universe or how they make fat free cheese were in the mask. I knew they
weren’t. Trust me you don’t want to
know how they make fat free cheese. I’m
still working on all the secrets of the universe, fortunately
algebra affords much time to work on it.
“Bro, what
happened?” Vigil looked up at me his
sable eyes solemn, ahh not the secrets of the universe just
the secrets to his soul.
“I don’t
understand. Richie I put on this mask and it
all goes away. The fear,
the hate, the disgust. I stopped being
a victim and started to be a hero,” he held the mask up to his face and then pulled
it away, “but as soon as it falls away all the emotions come rushing back. Then I’m just plain ol’
Virgil.” His eyes are shining, overbright and I imagine the world is a watery blur to him right
now. “I’m so tired Richie. I’m tired of hurting, of how I flinch at loud
noises. I’m so goddamn tired of the
nightmares!” V was working up a good head
of steam, practically screaming, but I didn’t say anything because I knew he was
venting and he needed it. “I’M TIRED
OF THE FUCKING TEARS! I CRY ALL THE TIME! I SOB INTO MY PILLOW AT NIGHT SO POPS DOESN’T
HEAR! I JUST CAN’T TAKE IT ANY
MORE!” He broke down into incoherency
screaming and crying and bleeding from his heart.
I slowly enveloped
him in my arms offering support and security the only way I could right then. My uniform top got wet enough from his tears that I
could feel it on my skin. Eventually he slowed
down and the sniffles slide into soft snores. I
shook him gently to a semi-awake state and stood up from my crouch leading him over to the
ratty sofa we’d scrounged from the dump. Virgil
settled against me heavy, warm and reassuring. I
knew he was physically exhausted from his big throw down and sitting through classes all
day with a still healing body. He was
emotionally exhausted from his venting but I knew he needed it. Despite how cool Pops is, V could never really let
go like that in front of him. More than
anything the attack caused me to appreciate V and the fact that he was alive and with a
mind like mine it rarely stopped or slowed down but I took this moment in time to just
appreciate the fact that my best friend was lying against me alive and while his psyche
might not be whole, no one ever said superheroes were sane.
It was after dark
and Virgil and Richie were supposed to have been back hours ago. After I had found out about the superhero thing
Richie had made me special shock box. I knew
better than to just call Virgil about picking up milk or something similarly mundane but I
was well and truly worried. “Gear? Static?” The only thing I could hear on the line was static
and it wasn’t my son. I tried for another
few minutes and decided that I needed to take more action.
The first place I
would look would be their hang out at the gas station.
As I drove there worse and worse scenarios ran through my head. Things that had happened as Static, things that had
happened as Virgil most of them involved lots of blood.
I rushed into the gas station careful to park out of sight, no reason to attract
attention to the hide out. I practically slide
to halt when I saw the sight before me. Richie
and Virgil, still mostly in their costumes, were curled up on the couch leaning against
each other and sleeping peacefully. We’d
all been getting less sleep due to Virgil’s nightmares so I couldn’t begrudge
them the sleep. I hastily scrawled a note
telling them they could stay over if they wanted and that I would call Richie’s mom. Virgil really needed the rest because tomorrow was
his next therapy secession.
Virgil still
wasn’t comfortable with me, but trust is hard to earn with the traumatized. Virgil was bright young man, very strong, but slow
to trust. I think once I got that I would
really start to make some progress. We touched
on several topics, most unimportant, when I brought up the idea of sleep aids he seemed to
dislike it but listened to my suggestions and agreed to try it. I think that he considered it because of his family
they seem very close and supportive especial after the death of a family member. I think he was worried about his father getting
enough sleep. I could tell that he wanted to
tell me something but he withheld. I
didn’t want to push him yet, it takes a long time to build a rapport. We were nearing the end of the session when Virgil
asked me a question.
“Maggie?”
“Yes?”
“If I tell
you something would you promise not to write it down anywhere. Or type it or tell anyone? I mean you would swear?”
I felt slightly
amused by the question, it was a little more paranoid than I was used to with the not
writing it down bit, but I got that question from every patient at one time or another. Virgil just asked a little sooner than expected. Usually the question comes before a large secret is
revealed, or at least they feel like it’s a big secret.
Once I told him that yes I would not even write something down if he asked me not
to, he instead just nodded thoughtfully and leaned back in his chair choosing to spend the
next ten minutes telling me about the new Plant Man comic.
Several Weeks Later
It has been almost
a month since Virgil has become my patient. He’s
slowly opened up and revealed more about himself and what happened to him. The monthly meeting of rape victims is coming up
later this week and I convinced him to attend. This
particular meeting has been extremely tense. I
feel like Virgil is wanting to tell me that big secret
he’s been holding. He’s been pacing
around like crazy not sitting for more than 2 minutes before jumping up and pacing again. We’re coming up on the end of the session when
he turns to me, decision written across his face.
“Maggie.” He took a deep breath to fortify himself,
“Richie and Pops both think I should tell you something, that it would help with the
therapy sessions. I just, you have to not
write this down or tell anyone. Okay? Promise?” I felt nervous and excited if he trusted me enough
to tell me this then that spoke a lot about how things were progressing. I nodded not wanted to break his train of thought. He held out a hand and watched in amazement as
light pooled in it and formed a crackling ball of energy.
I looked up at him eyes wide, probably the size of saucers. “I’m Static.”