Static Shock Fan Fiction ❯ Watch The Sky ❯ Chapter Eleven ( Chapter 11 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Rating: Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for children under 17
Non Anime: Static Shock Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Psychological | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.09.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 6.9K | Visits: 243 | Status: Completed
Rating: Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for children under 17
Non Anime: Static Shock Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Psychological | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.09.2007 | Pages: 4 | Words: 6.9K | Visits: 243 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN STATIC AND OTHER ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS! Dwayne McDuffie and WB and Milestone do in...their various ways.
Warning: profanity, darkness, slash, Out of Character
A/N: Carol---much love, you awesome reader you. You heard my whimpers for some acknowledgement XD. Anyway, I can't really do a story without Hs/R action, so keep on reading! I love this situation: playing with my fave couple then experimenting with V/R (O, actually, in this world) in THE SAME FIC. Booyah! Your wondering of how the shadow men will be explained is in this here lovely chapter! It was fun to write but...I think...I am missing something somewhere...dammit. Hopefully if there is a mistake or something, somebody or yourself can point it out to me. I feel like I'm missing something big here. Grr. And thank you so much for the compliments---I feel happy that I waste your time with my fics! XD (love glomp). I promise everyone something nice and...somewhat cuddly...later on. Heh. 'Cuddly'. (blush) As for my other readers---I love you all for sticking through my fics!
Chapter Eleven
Catching a twin in his carefully constructed web of lies was something that Virgil wasn’t ever going to forget. Hours after going through the SUV’s cache of collected photos and notebooks, with Osgoode promising his parents in that both he and Richard were going to be home soon, Osgoode was confronted with the prospect of UFOs, aliens, and his older brother conducting a secret affair with the metahuman that caused the city–and Static–so much trouble.
Needless to say, the younger Foley twin hadn’t taken it all too well. And while Virgil was perfectly aware that Osgoode was furious, it was a quiet sort of furiousness that made the hairs on his neck stand straight up. Osgoode was capable of showing and emitting emotion; quite capable of telling those closest to him how he was feeling. But he said nothing; his facial expressions revealed nothing. Only his eyes stormed red, the back of his neck an angry splash of color. His hands were shaking so badly that they wrinkled photos he tried to separate. He sat stiffly on the only chair, near his tools and random inventions that had since collected dust in his absence. Around him was his workspace, with photos rubber-banded and set in careful order. As he worked, his short breathing was audible within the abandoned gas station.
Virgil also had a good indication of his fury by the way of his older brother, who sat painfully stiff on the couch, an ashen expression on his face. Richard had said nothing since their walk over; even as Static undressed to reveal Virgil, and their ‘headquarters’ was open to him. He hadn’t dared said a word, nor looked up from his shoes since he sat. Which was rather odd for him, Virgil had decided.
The entire gas station was silent save for them rustling through the separated piles of photos. They had yet to peruse the notebooks, all of them packed neatly in chronological order nearby. Confronted with the photos, Osgoode couldn’t tell any more lies. And Virgil sensed that the twins realized this. It was such an awesome situation that Virgil had a hard time thinking of anything else.
It also felt so chilly in the building, and also so very full; as if there were more people within, staying out of sight. It was a situation that made Virgil paranoid–it felt odd to move about when he felt that he should be watching his back. It felt that there were eyes everywhere. And the street noise outside, of people conducting their everyday lives and shouting out...seemed different. It felt as if it were the only real building on the block–as if the city had suddenly emptied.
But he was determined to move on, to get his answers. He set the last dated photo aside and looked over at Osgoode. The younger twin’s lips were so tightly pressed that they appeared white. His eyes were flashing with heat–if the twin could, he would be roaring with flame as Hotstreak was infamous for whenever the meta lost his temper. Even with that heated fury, Osgoode radiated chilliness that prompted Virgil to keep his coat on.
“So...” he began, but winced at the loudness of his voice. Richard startled noticeably, and Osgoode grabbed a powertool off his counter. The loud whine of the saw made the other two jump as the twin angrily clutched the hand trigger. He set that aside with a rough toss and began picking at his fingers.
“Even if I did start to delve into the subject, you wouldn’t believe me, Virgil,” Osgoode said, in a cold defensive manner. “Who would?”
“There is photo evidence–”
“Can be explained easily. The guy could have made it all up on a computer somewhere! If he’s as nuts as you said he was, he could have done that just to–pass the time! And how dare this man follow us around? How could we not know that he was there?!” Osgoode cried, voice rising with every sentence.
“Do you know him?” Virgil asked steadily, glancing at Richard to see if he’d join in. But the other twin kept his gaze on the floor, flinching every time Osgoode’s voice rang out, or some agitated movement sent tools sliding over the counter.
Osgoode was silent for a few moments, thinking of the question and of the millions of other things that he’d have to answer for. He swallowed tightly, feeling so much anger inside of him that it made his skin red. He couldn’t sit still–his hands were dancing over the various things on his counter, pausing on the drill, the soldering tool, the screwdrivers...in his mind, he was automatically reaching for something that could inflict the most damage.
His anger had no where to go, and he really wasn’t that sure of the reason behind his fury. He knew he was furious about the relationship his brother had with one of Static’s sworn nemeses–the very thought of it twisted his gut. At the same time, he was trying to rationalize with himself, trying to tell himself that Richard hadn’t even known of Osgoode’s relationship with Static until a couple of weeks ago. There was no way his brother could have gone to that–that person–and spilt secrets to the man.
He was furious at the stalker–he felt once more raped of his privacy. It was bad enough They were constantly watching them–why did this man think he had the right to follow them around and photograph them doing personal things?! During their search in the SUV, they’d come across a large plastic container that held various belongings–Richard’s jacket he’d lost a year ago, a sweater Osgoode had tossed because of a hole at the hem, their graded homework, class pictures–it was horrible. Kyle Green’s older brother always had a screw loose, but it now looked as if the man had lost that screw entirely. The very fact that they’d found pictures he’d taken of both him and Virgil, many of him with Static, was compromising–they didn’t know just how much he knew. If Madsen Green knew Static’s identity, then it was a serious cause for repercussions. Osgoode wanted that man’s neck in his hands for his crimes.
Something ghosted over the back of his neck–it felt like fingers. Cold, rubbery fingers.
He shivered violently, rising from his chair. The chair scooted back until it hit the back wall with a loud bang. From the corner of his eye, Richard was startled to his feet, growing deathly pale as he waited for Osgoode to do something. Virgil didn’t see this reaction–he saw Osgoode preparing for a fight. He was stunned at the twin’s behavior, and the violent way he was reacting. This was entirely new to him.
“Settle down!” the voices hissed. “Settle down right now!”
Virgil looked startled as Osgoode forced himself to relax, struggling visibly to keep himself from doing or saying anything more. Carefully, he found his seat and sat back down, shoving his hands underneath his knees and keeping his eyes averted to the floor.
“Remember what Harold told you,” the voices continued. “Your aggression is unnecessary–do you really think that he’d believe? No one has. No one will. We are ‘nonsense’.”
He felt that They were mocking him. Osgoode swallowed hard once more. “Yeah. Yeah, we know him. He’s...he’s the older brother of one of the...accident victims back home.”
Virgil was once more startled at the answering of his question. But something bothered him about how casual it was mentioned. He forced himself to pursue the subject. “How many ‘accidents’ happened around the pair of you back there?”
Osgoode lifted his head, a scowl on his face. He studied Virgil. “What are you insinuating?”
“I’m not insinuating anything, Oz,” Virgil said softly, alarmed at how different his friend was. His arms were lined with goosebumps–the room felt suffocating. “I’m just asking...that’s all. I’m going to be truthful with you, man. I did some research–”
“What?”
“ –So many weird things are happening with you, Oz!” Virgil said, rising to his feet. “With both of you! I–I did as I would with–with other situations–!”
“With criminals! How dare you snoop into our private history! What did you want to find out, Virgil?!”
“Settle down!” the voices growled, louder this time.
Virgil stilled. He heard that. But he wasn’t sure if it were coming from outside, or if...if somehow Richard was saying it. That childish array made his skin crawl, and he knew for sure that they weren’t alone.
Osgoode was breathing heavily at this moment, his hands shaking as he reached up to wipe sweat from his brow.
Richard finally spoke up, but his voice was shaking audibly. “D-don’t ma-make him mad, Virgil. What’s wrong with you?”
Virgil glanced at him, puzzled by his words. But he quickly returned his gaze to the other twin.
Osgoode took a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders. He exhaled shakily, then sat up straight, appearing normal and at ease.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized quietly. The total change was startling for Virgil. It had seemed as if Osgoode had been moments away from exploding. “I just...I just don’t see any reason for you to research our backgrounds like you would with common criminals. We haven’t done anything wrong; whatever that man rambled to you in his lunacy most likely made it up due to his grief and depression over the death of his younger brother. After all, losing a sibling must be quite devastating to a person’s psyche.”
Virgil felt himself shiver. He wasn’t exactly sure why.
“Stalkers, in general, don’t exactly think sanely, either. He’s probably trying to rationalize his behavior with claiming such oddities in order to keep following us around.Was there something in particular that you needed to know, Virgil?” Osgoode then asked.
“Well...these accidents...of course the pair of you will be suspects,” Virgil then mumbled. “I just find it so particular that...that they were all as the result of...bullying. Not only that, you once joked that your house is haunted–but there’s–there’s something there that is actually real, and–and you’re too ashamed, or–I dunno. I don’t know, Osgoode, it’s just–!”
“You were just seeing things, Virgil. Hearing them. Who knows? You work hard and you work long hours. Sometimes when a person’s really tired, their mind plays a few tricks on them. I really don’t know, Virgil.”
“No. No, my eyes weren’t playing tricks, and–as for the voices? I hear those, too, Osgoode. How can you explain that?”
Osgoode studied the floor for a few moments. When he looked back up, there was a smirk on his face. “What are you talking about, Virgil? You trippin’...bro?”
“The voices...I hear them. Same ones–I heard them at the school, and just now!” Virgil paused, giving the younger Foley twin a considering look. “What really happened that morning, in Ebon’s hideout?”
Osgoode frowned at him. He remembered only spots here and there–but the audible memory of it all was still there. Shiv’s blood had been so warm on his hands...in reflex, he looked down at his fingers. It was still so ridiculous to think that it had been easy for him to kill the Bang Baby; or, at least, participate in his death.
“What are you talking about, Virgil?” he asked quietly. “We were never in Ebon’s hideout. As I’ve said before, Richard–”
“No....NO. That’s a lie,” Virgil snapped, giving him an incredulous look. “That’s a lie, and you know it. I already heard what happened, and Hotstreak and Puff confirmed it with their accusations! And furthermore, how in the world are you carrying on with Hotstreak?!” he asked Richard, whirling around to glare at him. “He was in it, too?”
Before Richard could answer, Osgoode snapped. “I already told you, Virgil! I did it to protect YOU! Those metahumans can now link me to you, and if we told the truth to the police, do you think–”
“You are protected by exemption, Osgoode!” Virgil protested. “Anyone that helps Static won’t be bothered by questioning! It’s just–automatic! Chief Barnes and the mayor–surprisingly–had already discussed this with me! If the other metahumans tried to use that particular tactic with me, not only would they not consider the accusations those guys make, they’d assist with a rescue.”
Osgoode stilled, tilting his head. “What? Really?”
“Yes.” Virgil paused, studying him. “I...I thought you knew that.”
Osgoode looked over at his brother, who was watching him quietly from the couch. His eyes narrowed. “What about this thing with Hotstreak?”
“I–I haven’t–I haven’t s-said anything a-about him, Osgoode,” Richard stammered, shaking his head quickly. “A-anyway, no need to worry; we a-actually j-just broke up.”
“Speak normally, and not like a fucking retard!” Osgoode snapped at him. “How long were you with him?”
“I–j–just over–over a y-year! B-but it wa-wasn’t anyt-thing serious!”
“‘Over a year’?! And nothing serious, huh? Has anyone ever told you you’re a fucking slut? God, you make me look bad whenever you decide to whip out your dick to anybody that feels sorry enough for you! You need to knock it off!”
Osgoode then glared at him in silence as Virgil gave him another puzzled look. He could feel the tension rising, and shifted uncomfortably. “Oz...he didn’t know about you and me until very recently,” he said quietly. “If he’s telling the truth, Hotstreak would have never known about anything. And I don’t think Richard would tell him, anyway...right?”
Richard nodded quietly.
“Still...I don’t like secrets kept from me,” Osgoode mumbled. He felt annoyed that Virgil spoke up for Richard, his skin prickling with irritation. “Especially from him. We’re supposed to be close!”
“You kept a big secret from him as well,” Virgil pointed out gently.
“It’s not the same, Virgil!” Osgoode nearly shouted at him. “We’re friends–! We were, rather. Richard and I are twins. Identical, and we’ve done everything together! We were created together, born together, grew up together! We watch out for each other and finish each other’s sentences! I–this is–this is stupid!”
“Then let’s do this, Osgoode–tell me what really happened down there. I want to know what really happened.”
Osgoode stared at Virgil for a few moments in silence. He then looked away uncomfortably. Thinking about the situation, he let Virgil stand quietly where he was, searching for any appropriate answers he could give while not involving his own participation. If Virgil knew what he was capable of, things would be...different.
He was so angry at Virgil for putting him on the spot. So angry at various things around him. And They were silent, watching them quietly from the shadows...making sure he didn’t slip.
Because anger had clouded his mind significantly, Osgoode felt that he couldn’t prepare a more plausible explanation. Stubbornly, he tightened his lips. His shoulders steeled back. He noticed that his brother was shaking his head slightly, looking in a direction away from the pair of them. Following his gaze, Osgoode could see the faint shape of one of the aliens’ forms standing behind one of the doors. One of the dark ones...the ones with the square shaped head. He could hear Their faint whispers as They contemplated Their next move.
A chill swept through him as he looked at Virgil. They could kill Virgil just as easily as they had with the Metabreed.
He didn’t know what to do at that moment; his mind was swirling too violently to settle and focus. He needed to release some of it. His entire body felt agitated, pumped quickly with adrenaline that made his hands shake, for his words to come quickly. His brow was beading with sweat. He rose from the chair again.
“I can’t,” he said simply, shaking his head. He shot Virgil a pleading look. “I can’t. Please don’t ask why–I can’t explain this without sounding like a total fool, or making myself a suspect.”
Virgil furrowed his brow. “Why would you–?”
“Virgil...when I tell you that I can’t...” Osgoode trailed off helplessly, shrugging his shoulders.
“Just talk to me, man,” Virgil urged. “Even if it makes you feel like a fool. How can I not understand or even stand to get it when you don’t try even try to tell me?”
“Because I can’t! Because you won’t think that its real, or that–that I’m telling the truth!” Osgoode cried. “It’s too–! I can’t risk it because–!”
“Why?” Virgil barked at him. “Just try me!”
Osgoode hesitated for a few moments. He glanced at the door–but the alien was gone. The room felt suffocating–They were silent. Waiting for him to explain. There was a hint of mockery in the air, as if They were humoring him with Their silence. He swallowed hard, looking down at the piles of photos.
He could feel Virgil staring at him, waiting for him to explain. He could feel Richard watching him as well, unsure of what he was going to say. Suddenly, at that very moment, he just wanted to be next to his brother–to feel secure in what he was going to say. Because what he had to say was too outrageous for anybody to understand, or even try to get.
He swallowed hard. Richard must have felt his need, because he moved to his side, standing still at his right. Osgoode could smell his sweat and his fear–it was a mixture that made him feel strong and in-control.
“We aren’t actually human,” he began, reciting what he knew. He heard Them giving sucking sounds, as if They were sucking in great deal of air to hold in anticipation of Virgil’s reaction. “We were conceived by a mixture of human replicate DNA and an unidentifiable alien humanoid race that was proven compatible with Earth’s human race. Manufactured right out of a genetic space lab, numbered as a set; the head scientist decided to make us twins rather than one individual on a whim. They impregnated our mother, who was proven barren by Earth standards; not because she was barren, but because she was chosen at birth to have us. Her womb had been designed especially for us. During her first trimester, instead of having her lose us in a ‘miscarry’ as They normally do with human women carrying Their children, They decided to let her carry us out into full term. When we were born, They hadn’t expected us to live, considering how our forms could not adapt to human exposure and to the planet’s conditions. We weren’t expected to live until we finally adapted six years after our birth. Once They realized that we were thriving, They began Their research on us. Documenting our bodies, our memories, every aspect of our lives–from the moment we get up and from the moment we go to sleep. Sort of like...those animal shows on the Animal Planet; monitored constantly, for the documentation and entertainment of higher beings.
“What makes it more interesting is that the pair of us also have been coded with the homosexual gene–they don’t have enough research of gay individuals, and encourage us to carry on with random affairs for their research, something Richard has succeeded with.” Osgoode shot Richard a scowl, the other flushing in guilty regard. Despite himself, Virgil felt his face heat as well, looking down at the floor in momentary shame.
“They are terrifying to us. They scare us. The head scientist is cruel and uncaring, and while he monitors hundreds of us on this planet, he regrets ever making us. We were supposed to be one being, not two–he regrets my presence. We’re taken at least four times a week so that they can scold us for poor choices that we’ve made and to be tortured during their research. Richard is the one They really want–he was Their original choice. But twin human beings confuses Them, and it’s only by his choice that I remain here.” Osgoode stilled, then smirked. “And any threat to us, Their research, They will take care of. Ebon threatened our lives that day–and They took care of them. Is this what you wanted to hear, Virgil?”
Virgil stared at him in silence, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. Osgoode could see right off that the other teen couldn’t accept his explanation of ‘Them’. His limited explanation, filled with what he thought he knew, what he actually did know and what he imagined sounded so...creative. So...science fiction.
Too much for someone to actually process as reality.
After a few minutes of buzzing silence, he heard Them began to snicker, and whisper in victory in that Virgil would never believe him. He would never take them seriously, for he spoke of ‘nonsense’.
Virgil lowered his eyes, and reached up to touch his forehead. Osgoode felt pain in that action, and felt some of that anger ebb from him. He felt like a fool...
“I told you,” he said stiffly, clenching his fists. “I told you you wouldn’t believe me!”
Virgil stilled, then swept his arms out. “How can I? Do you even hear what you’re saying?! Created by aliens? Being researched by them–? I mean, c’mon! Have we watched too many sci-fi flicks?!”
Osgoode bit his lower lip, and didn’t even mind when Richard touched his hand subtly with his, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. Even if he didn’t have Virgil, or anybody else–he would have his brother.
But...in the end...Virgil was safe from Them. They didn’t find the other teen a threat. He found this a great relief, hearing Them whisper to each other in confusion. They didn’t understand why he had such feelings for Virgil...why he quickly chose to forgive him over his own brother.
“Anyway...if you can’t accept this as my truth...then I don’t know what to tell you, V. Maybe...maybe the both of us are...maybe that gas somehow affected us in some way. Maybe we have some sort of superpowers that we don’t know of, or...”
Virgil looked at him sharply, and Osgoode trailed off. The other teen wasn’t in the mood for such weak explanations or anything of the sort. He didn’t know what else to say. He grew red in the face and hunched his shoulders, clenching his hands before him.
The gas station was stifling in its tension and silence. He cast the piles of photos and notebooks a weary look. “Anyway...do what you will with them, Virge. We’re expected home. My brother and I...have to talk about...stuff. See you at school tomorrow, all right?”
“Wait, Oz–!” Virgil protested as they began walking for the door.
“‘Night, V. Have fun with that,” Osgoode called, holding the door open for his brother as they walked outside. Night had fallen, and the street lamps were out in this particular section of the street. Virgil couldn’t see their expressions, but he didn’t need to.
The door slammed shut behind Osgoode, leaving him in silence. He stared down at the piles at his feet and reviewed what Osgoode had said to him. He then shook his head in incredulous disbelief.
“...Created by aliens, sent to take over the world,” he mumbled.
01010011
The walk home was silent and filled with tension. Osgoode walked quickly, his head down and his skin splotched with red. The scene within the Gas Station of Solitude (a rather ridiculous name, but it totally fit both Virgil and Osgoode’s playful take on their headquarters) was a frightening one. But a laughable one–of course Virgil wouldn’t believe Osgoode. The entire situation, outside of the pair of them, was totally unrealistic. The world didn’t accept aliens, or human gene-farms.
Richard figured that Virgil thought Osgoode was mocking him. And Osgoode was frustrated because he was losing Virgil because the other teen wouldn’t believe him. Richard found it incredulous that after all Virgil/Static had seen since the Big Bang, he wouldn’t accept what it was that was being set before him.
But on another note, Richard was terrified of his brother’s venomous mood. He could feel Osgoode’s emotions running high and heated, and he wasn’t looking forward to being alone with his brother for any amount of time. He was too afraid to provoke his brother’s mood, so he kept a few steps behind and his mouth shut. He was angry at Virgil to agitate Osgoode with his questions and incredulousness. But then again, he had to accept that Virgil didn’t know what Osgoode did to relieve some of his anger and frustration.
They had just reached the gate into their backyard when Osgoode whirled suddenly, making Richard gasp in startled reaction. Osgoode’s eyes were furious as he reached out to grab his arm, curling his fingers tight on his forearm to draw him in close.
“I can’t believe you’d keep that secret from me!” he hissed low as he curled his other fist, Richard cringing automatically. “Messing around with that idiot! How could you?! You made me look like a fool, Richard! Was he involved that time? Did you tell him about what happens to us?”
Stammering quickly, none of his words intelligible, Richard shook his head. Osgoode reacted with a snarl, shoving him away. “Stop acting like a baby!” he growled. “What the fuck are you so afraid of?!”
“Y-you’re s-so ma-mad! I–I c-can’t–!”
“Don’t talk if you can’t say things right!” Osgoode snapped, reaching out to shove him once more. It infuriated him in that his brother was so weak. “I was told to keep my hands off you! Can’t go fucking up the prime specimen, now, can I? The favorite, the most wanted–! They don’t give a fuck about me, only that I not touch you again! I can’t see why They’d want you for Their research when you aren’t even–! FUCK!”
He curled his fingers through his hair, glaring at his brother as he sniveled, watching him with a terrified expression. Osgoode erupted with a flail of his arms. “What are you crying about?!”
“I’m n-not c-crying!”
“Then what–?!”
“You don’t hold back when you’re mad! I d-don’t k-know what you’re g-going to d-do–!”
“So you’re afraid of me?” Osgoode asked, lowering his voice. He gazed at his brother with intensity. Watching Richard, he reached out to touch his shoulder, seeing him tense up so suddenly that every visible muscle flexed. To further his intent, Osgoode curled his fingers lightly on his shoulder, a little curious as to how hard it was underneath his touch. He could feel him shaking. He spoke quietly. “You’re afraid of me when I’m mad? No one’s afraid of me when I’m mad! Are you that much of a wimp?!”
“N–no. No, yes! Yes, I–!”
Osgoode narrowed his eyes, and Richard clamped his mouth shut, feeling himself quake under that furious gaze. He was incredibly tense, unable to move because he knew Osgoode was faster and stronger than he. He didn’t want to provoke him anymore than he apparently had.
Lips curled in disgust, and the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip. It wasn’t painful–it just promised it. “It pisses me off that whenever you do something wrong, I’m expected to clean it up, to keep things comfortable for you, and you give me NOTHING in return! You’re the favorite with both of our parents, Virgil’s after YOU, and Harold thinks I’m nothing but a fucking screw-up! How the fuck am I supposed to feel, knowing that no one wants me around?! Of course I’m going to be pissed!”
Richard shook his head fiercely. It was somehow more terrifying with Osgoode just touching him with that light grip. “No, no! Everyone likes you–! They do, you just can’t see it because you’re so blind with your anger–! You’re so frightening when you’re mad–! I wish you wouldn’t be–! I can’t help it! I love you more than anything, but I can’t help it when you’re so mad! You take it out on me!”
Resentment and fury built once more, but instead of lashing out as he normally did, Osgoode removed his hand, turned, and slammed his way into the backyard. Amid the dangerous hissing from the shadows, he stalked up the walkway to the backdoor, stalked inside, and slammed it behind him. He even locked it behind him, ignoring Maggie’s questioning reaction from the kitchen.
Within the silence, Richard exhaled shakily. But tension and adrenaline still coursed through him as he thought of his brother’s anger. Osgoode had visibly held himself back–having been warned by Harold that he shouldn’t take out his anger on Richard. It was frightening to see that Osgoode hadn’t a release for his anger. It just meant that it would continue to build–and all of the ridiculous things to accuse Richard of!
But he could see that Harold meant what he’d said of his preference for Richard–he’d always commented on the trouble Osgoode put them through to ‘clean up behind him’. Richard didn’t understand that when he felt that his brother was the more capable one of them; Osgoode had many good points to him that seemed beneficial in Their research. He was the more responsible, the more rational, the more studious, the one that worked to please everybody just so that things worked more fluidly. Osgoode was always able to cheer Richard up whenever he was feeling down, and always suggested and followed through with fun things, such as cosplaying. Osgoode protected him, because it was obvious Richard often stumbled into situations impulsively or made a mistake with others that he couldn’t fix. Osgoode always made him feel safe and secure in that his presence was always nearby; and Osgoode needed him as well. Osgoode made Richard feel useful and important when he felt that he wasn’t.
Their parents didn’t favor the boys individually–their love was equal for both. As for Virgil–it was plain to Richard that Virgil had eyes only for Osgoode. Virgil wanted Richard to get into trouble, and the teen was holding a strong grudge against him for that incident.
Osgoode just wasn’t feeling well over the course of things, Richard decided, shivering. Even still, he wondered when Osgoode was going to ‘forget’ his warning and attack him. His brother was capable of so many things–if it weren’t for Harold and the others, he’d still be bearing scars from Osgoode’s anger attacks. There had been so many incidents in the past in that Osgoode attacked him, but Richard could overlook them...until it happened again. Even if Osgoode was dangerous in that aspect, he was still his brother...Richard still loved him immensely.
But he wondered what Osgoode was going to do with him. He wondered when he was going to strike.
01010011
That next day, Hotstreak found himself zapped by a low-voltage charge that had him dropping his stolen hotdog and soda. Before he could even react, his clothes were then yanked to the side, where he found himself stuck to the lamp post before the raised bridge. To find himself attacked so suddenly and without warning, Hotstreak was aghast at the treatment.
“What the hell, man?!” he cried angrily, turning his head to see Static poised a few feet away from him. “What’s your problem? Man, I didn’t do anything–!”
“Yet,” Static said crossly, hands on his hips. “I need to ask you something.”
“Aw, man, I didn’t do it. I wasn’t even around! I quit doin’ that a long time ago, and I told Puff I wasn’t gonna get involved, so I ain’t got an idea of where they took him!” Hotstreak complained, pulling at his clothes and finding himself unable to move.
Static frowned. He crossed his arms. “All right. I’ll ask about that one later. I’ve got questions about another incident entirely.”
Hotstreak then looked sheepish. “Um...I don’t know nothin’. Really. I mean, I was just talkin’ out of my ass, cuz I was startled and all. Forget all that.”
“Does it look like I forget about anything? Anyway, hold up. Chill out a moment. This ain’t gettin’ you in trouble, or anything. I just got a few questions that I need you to answer truthfully to. This is serious.” Static then withdrew a photo from a jacket pocket, hovering close so he could show the picture into the meta’s face. Seeing the contents, Hotstreak turned as red as his hair and shirt. “You can’t lie about this–I just want your confirmation that you were seeing him.”
“Aw man...what the fuck? Where’d you get that?”
“If I hadn’t accidently stumbled upon a certain vehicle on a certain day, I would have missed it. But this guy and his brother had a stalker. Trust me, man, he has a LOT more of these than you can imagine. You can’t lie–I’ve got more evidence back at my pad.”
Hotstreak sighed, looking painfully guilty. “Look, age of consent in the state is fifteen, cuz of that law about old guys marrying young girls for their religion–an’ we ain’t done nothing wrong. It was all consensual! It wasn’t like I fuckin’ made him–”
“I know, all right? I spoke to him, and he said what you two had was good until you broke up recently. I don’t want to know of your relationship–I just want you to confirm that you two had a thing.”
Hotstreak scowled for a few moments, then muttered an affirmative. Static put the photo away, then released him with a cautious look. Hotstreak was momentarily puzzled, but he stayed put, glaring at his wasted hot dog and soda.
“Look...there is something big going on, and...I’m not going to blame you, or bother you for your involvement,” Static started. “But I need to ask you a few things about that day in Ebon’s hideout.”
Hotstreak looked at him with an undeciding expression, one eye focused away. Static wondered, for a brief moment, how Richard was able to stand that flaw of his. Osgoode had always complained he’d go cross-eyed looking into his face.
“Like what?” the meta asked in a sullen tone.
“Both you and me know Ebon didn’t do it,” Static then said, lowering himself so that he was level with the meta. Hotstreak shrugged in reply.
“I really don’t care,” he muttered. “I mean, the city’s a lot safer without that ass around here. It ain’t exactly a secret that he and I didn’t like each other, anyway. But...you’re right. Ebon ain’t the type to snap, even when those guys in the tv said he was capable of it. You seen those bodies, right?”
Static felt his stomach bubbled with the renewed memories of the Metabreed. He still counted himself lucky he hadn’t seen Shiv–the coroner had reported the Asian’s death as ‘hideous’. “Yeah. So...I was wondering–”
“‘Sides, there’s–” Hotstreak cut himself off suddenly, lowering his eyes to the ground as a couple of onlookers gawked at them. “Geez. Can we talk about this somewhere else? I don’t want it known what I know...”
Static caught sight of the pair, who were waiting for a customary battle between the two known nemeses. He looked at Hotstreak sternly. “Can I count on you to be where we agree? I need to figure this out, man. Think of it–if we don’t cooperate, whatever killed Ebon and the others might go after the rest of us.”
Hotstreak scowled, rubbing his chin in thought. He then looked around himself, as if searching for anybody spying on the pair of them. But as he satisfied himself with that, he retained an expression of anxiousness. “Whatever. Meet me at the docks. Seems like They don’t like water, an’ They won’t spy on us there.”
Static gave him a startled look, but the metahuman was already walking away.
Warning: profanity, darkness, slash, Out of Character
A/N: Carol---much love, you awesome reader you. You heard my whimpers for some acknowledgement XD. Anyway, I can't really do a story without Hs/R action, so keep on reading! I love this situation: playing with my fave couple then experimenting with V/R (O, actually, in this world) in THE SAME FIC. Booyah! Your wondering of how the shadow men will be explained is in this here lovely chapter! It was fun to write but...I think...I am missing something somewhere...dammit. Hopefully if there is a mistake or something, somebody or yourself can point it out to me. I feel like I'm missing something big here. Grr. And thank you so much for the compliments---I feel happy that I waste your time with my fics! XD (love glomp). I promise everyone something nice and...somewhat cuddly...later on. Heh. 'Cuddly'. (blush) As for my other readers---I love you all for sticking through my fics!
Chapter Eleven
Catching a twin in his carefully constructed web of lies was something that Virgil wasn’t ever going to forget. Hours after going through the SUV’s cache of collected photos and notebooks, with Osgoode promising his parents in that both he and Richard were going to be home soon, Osgoode was confronted with the prospect of UFOs, aliens, and his older brother conducting a secret affair with the metahuman that caused the city–and Static–so much trouble.
Needless to say, the younger Foley twin hadn’t taken it all too well. And while Virgil was perfectly aware that Osgoode was furious, it was a quiet sort of furiousness that made the hairs on his neck stand straight up. Osgoode was capable of showing and emitting emotion; quite capable of telling those closest to him how he was feeling. But he said nothing; his facial expressions revealed nothing. Only his eyes stormed red, the back of his neck an angry splash of color. His hands were shaking so badly that they wrinkled photos he tried to separate. He sat stiffly on the only chair, near his tools and random inventions that had since collected dust in his absence. Around him was his workspace, with photos rubber-banded and set in careful order. As he worked, his short breathing was audible within the abandoned gas station.
Virgil also had a good indication of his fury by the way of his older brother, who sat painfully stiff on the couch, an ashen expression on his face. Richard had said nothing since their walk over; even as Static undressed to reveal Virgil, and their ‘headquarters’ was open to him. He hadn’t dared said a word, nor looked up from his shoes since he sat. Which was rather odd for him, Virgil had decided.
The entire gas station was silent save for them rustling through the separated piles of photos. They had yet to peruse the notebooks, all of them packed neatly in chronological order nearby. Confronted with the photos, Osgoode couldn’t tell any more lies. And Virgil sensed that the twins realized this. It was such an awesome situation that Virgil had a hard time thinking of anything else.
It also felt so chilly in the building, and also so very full; as if there were more people within, staying out of sight. It was a situation that made Virgil paranoid–it felt odd to move about when he felt that he should be watching his back. It felt that there were eyes everywhere. And the street noise outside, of people conducting their everyday lives and shouting out...seemed different. It felt as if it were the only real building on the block–as if the city had suddenly emptied.
But he was determined to move on, to get his answers. He set the last dated photo aside and looked over at Osgoode. The younger twin’s lips were so tightly pressed that they appeared white. His eyes were flashing with heat–if the twin could, he would be roaring with flame as Hotstreak was infamous for whenever the meta lost his temper. Even with that heated fury, Osgoode radiated chilliness that prompted Virgil to keep his coat on.
“So...” he began, but winced at the loudness of his voice. Richard startled noticeably, and Osgoode grabbed a powertool off his counter. The loud whine of the saw made the other two jump as the twin angrily clutched the hand trigger. He set that aside with a rough toss and began picking at his fingers.
“Even if I did start to delve into the subject, you wouldn’t believe me, Virgil,” Osgoode said, in a cold defensive manner. “Who would?”
“There is photo evidence–”
“Can be explained easily. The guy could have made it all up on a computer somewhere! If he’s as nuts as you said he was, he could have done that just to–pass the time! And how dare this man follow us around? How could we not know that he was there?!” Osgoode cried, voice rising with every sentence.
“Do you know him?” Virgil asked steadily, glancing at Richard to see if he’d join in. But the other twin kept his gaze on the floor, flinching every time Osgoode’s voice rang out, or some agitated movement sent tools sliding over the counter.
Osgoode was silent for a few moments, thinking of the question and of the millions of other things that he’d have to answer for. He swallowed tightly, feeling so much anger inside of him that it made his skin red. He couldn’t sit still–his hands were dancing over the various things on his counter, pausing on the drill, the soldering tool, the screwdrivers...in his mind, he was automatically reaching for something that could inflict the most damage.
His anger had no where to go, and he really wasn’t that sure of the reason behind his fury. He knew he was furious about the relationship his brother had with one of Static’s sworn nemeses–the very thought of it twisted his gut. At the same time, he was trying to rationalize with himself, trying to tell himself that Richard hadn’t even known of Osgoode’s relationship with Static until a couple of weeks ago. There was no way his brother could have gone to that–that person–and spilt secrets to the man.
He was furious at the stalker–he felt once more raped of his privacy. It was bad enough They were constantly watching them–why did this man think he had the right to follow them around and photograph them doing personal things?! During their search in the SUV, they’d come across a large plastic container that held various belongings–Richard’s jacket he’d lost a year ago, a sweater Osgoode had tossed because of a hole at the hem, their graded homework, class pictures–it was horrible. Kyle Green’s older brother always had a screw loose, but it now looked as if the man had lost that screw entirely. The very fact that they’d found pictures he’d taken of both him and Virgil, many of him with Static, was compromising–they didn’t know just how much he knew. If Madsen Green knew Static’s identity, then it was a serious cause for repercussions. Osgoode wanted that man’s neck in his hands for his crimes.
Something ghosted over the back of his neck–it felt like fingers. Cold, rubbery fingers.
He shivered violently, rising from his chair. The chair scooted back until it hit the back wall with a loud bang. From the corner of his eye, Richard was startled to his feet, growing deathly pale as he waited for Osgoode to do something. Virgil didn’t see this reaction–he saw Osgoode preparing for a fight. He was stunned at the twin’s behavior, and the violent way he was reacting. This was entirely new to him.
“Settle down!” the voices hissed. “Settle down right now!”
Virgil looked startled as Osgoode forced himself to relax, struggling visibly to keep himself from doing or saying anything more. Carefully, he found his seat and sat back down, shoving his hands underneath his knees and keeping his eyes averted to the floor.
“Remember what Harold told you,” the voices continued. “Your aggression is unnecessary–do you really think that he’d believe? No one has. No one will. We are ‘nonsense’.”
He felt that They were mocking him. Osgoode swallowed hard once more. “Yeah. Yeah, we know him. He’s...he’s the older brother of one of the...accident victims back home.”
Virgil was once more startled at the answering of his question. But something bothered him about how casual it was mentioned. He forced himself to pursue the subject. “How many ‘accidents’ happened around the pair of you back there?”
Osgoode lifted his head, a scowl on his face. He studied Virgil. “What are you insinuating?”
“I’m not insinuating anything, Oz,” Virgil said softly, alarmed at how different his friend was. His arms were lined with goosebumps–the room felt suffocating. “I’m just asking...that’s all. I’m going to be truthful with you, man. I did some research–”
“What?”
“ –So many weird things are happening with you, Oz!” Virgil said, rising to his feet. “With both of you! I–I did as I would with–with other situations–!”
“With criminals! How dare you snoop into our private history! What did you want to find out, Virgil?!”
“Settle down!” the voices growled, louder this time.
Virgil stilled. He heard that. But he wasn’t sure if it were coming from outside, or if...if somehow Richard was saying it. That childish array made his skin crawl, and he knew for sure that they weren’t alone.
Osgoode was breathing heavily at this moment, his hands shaking as he reached up to wipe sweat from his brow.
Richard finally spoke up, but his voice was shaking audibly. “D-don’t ma-make him mad, Virgil. What’s wrong with you?”
Virgil glanced at him, puzzled by his words. But he quickly returned his gaze to the other twin.
Osgoode took a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders. He exhaled shakily, then sat up straight, appearing normal and at ease.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized quietly. The total change was startling for Virgil. It had seemed as if Osgoode had been moments away from exploding. “I just...I just don’t see any reason for you to research our backgrounds like you would with common criminals. We haven’t done anything wrong; whatever that man rambled to you in his lunacy most likely made it up due to his grief and depression over the death of his younger brother. After all, losing a sibling must be quite devastating to a person’s psyche.”
Virgil felt himself shiver. He wasn’t exactly sure why.
“Stalkers, in general, don’t exactly think sanely, either. He’s probably trying to rationalize his behavior with claiming such oddities in order to keep following us around.Was there something in particular that you needed to know, Virgil?” Osgoode then asked.
“Well...these accidents...of course the pair of you will be suspects,” Virgil then mumbled. “I just find it so particular that...that they were all as the result of...bullying. Not only that, you once joked that your house is haunted–but there’s–there’s something there that is actually real, and–and you’re too ashamed, or–I dunno. I don’t know, Osgoode, it’s just–!”
“You were just seeing things, Virgil. Hearing them. Who knows? You work hard and you work long hours. Sometimes when a person’s really tired, their mind plays a few tricks on them. I really don’t know, Virgil.”
“No. No, my eyes weren’t playing tricks, and–as for the voices? I hear those, too, Osgoode. How can you explain that?”
Osgoode studied the floor for a few moments. When he looked back up, there was a smirk on his face. “What are you talking about, Virgil? You trippin’...bro?”
“The voices...I hear them. Same ones–I heard them at the school, and just now!” Virgil paused, giving the younger Foley twin a considering look. “What really happened that morning, in Ebon’s hideout?”
Osgoode frowned at him. He remembered only spots here and there–but the audible memory of it all was still there. Shiv’s blood had been so warm on his hands...in reflex, he looked down at his fingers. It was still so ridiculous to think that it had been easy for him to kill the Bang Baby; or, at least, participate in his death.
“What are you talking about, Virgil?” he asked quietly. “We were never in Ebon’s hideout. As I’ve said before, Richard–”
“No....NO. That’s a lie,” Virgil snapped, giving him an incredulous look. “That’s a lie, and you know it. I already heard what happened, and Hotstreak and Puff confirmed it with their accusations! And furthermore, how in the world are you carrying on with Hotstreak?!” he asked Richard, whirling around to glare at him. “He was in it, too?”
Before Richard could answer, Osgoode snapped. “I already told you, Virgil! I did it to protect YOU! Those metahumans can now link me to you, and if we told the truth to the police, do you think–”
“You are protected by exemption, Osgoode!” Virgil protested. “Anyone that helps Static won’t be bothered by questioning! It’s just–automatic! Chief Barnes and the mayor–surprisingly–had already discussed this with me! If the other metahumans tried to use that particular tactic with me, not only would they not consider the accusations those guys make, they’d assist with a rescue.”
Osgoode stilled, tilting his head. “What? Really?”
“Yes.” Virgil paused, studying him. “I...I thought you knew that.”
Osgoode looked over at his brother, who was watching him quietly from the couch. His eyes narrowed. “What about this thing with Hotstreak?”
“I–I haven’t–I haven’t s-said anything a-about him, Osgoode,” Richard stammered, shaking his head quickly. “A-anyway, no need to worry; we a-actually j-just broke up.”
“Speak normally, and not like a fucking retard!” Osgoode snapped at him. “How long were you with him?”
“I–j–just over–over a y-year! B-but it wa-wasn’t anyt-thing serious!”
“‘Over a year’?! And nothing serious, huh? Has anyone ever told you you’re a fucking slut? God, you make me look bad whenever you decide to whip out your dick to anybody that feels sorry enough for you! You need to knock it off!”
Osgoode then glared at him in silence as Virgil gave him another puzzled look. He could feel the tension rising, and shifted uncomfortably. “Oz...he didn’t know about you and me until very recently,” he said quietly. “If he’s telling the truth, Hotstreak would have never known about anything. And I don’t think Richard would tell him, anyway...right?”
Richard nodded quietly.
“Still...I don’t like secrets kept from me,” Osgoode mumbled. He felt annoyed that Virgil spoke up for Richard, his skin prickling with irritation. “Especially from him. We’re supposed to be close!”
“You kept a big secret from him as well,” Virgil pointed out gently.
“It’s not the same, Virgil!” Osgoode nearly shouted at him. “We’re friends–! We were, rather. Richard and I are twins. Identical, and we’ve done everything together! We were created together, born together, grew up together! We watch out for each other and finish each other’s sentences! I–this is–this is stupid!”
“Then let’s do this, Osgoode–tell me what really happened down there. I want to know what really happened.”
Osgoode stared at Virgil for a few moments in silence. He then looked away uncomfortably. Thinking about the situation, he let Virgil stand quietly where he was, searching for any appropriate answers he could give while not involving his own participation. If Virgil knew what he was capable of, things would be...different.
He was so angry at Virgil for putting him on the spot. So angry at various things around him. And They were silent, watching them quietly from the shadows...making sure he didn’t slip.
Because anger had clouded his mind significantly, Osgoode felt that he couldn’t prepare a more plausible explanation. Stubbornly, he tightened his lips. His shoulders steeled back. He noticed that his brother was shaking his head slightly, looking in a direction away from the pair of them. Following his gaze, Osgoode could see the faint shape of one of the aliens’ forms standing behind one of the doors. One of the dark ones...the ones with the square shaped head. He could hear Their faint whispers as They contemplated Their next move.
A chill swept through him as he looked at Virgil. They could kill Virgil just as easily as they had with the Metabreed.
He didn’t know what to do at that moment; his mind was swirling too violently to settle and focus. He needed to release some of it. His entire body felt agitated, pumped quickly with adrenaline that made his hands shake, for his words to come quickly. His brow was beading with sweat. He rose from the chair again.
“I can’t,” he said simply, shaking his head. He shot Virgil a pleading look. “I can’t. Please don’t ask why–I can’t explain this without sounding like a total fool, or making myself a suspect.”
Virgil furrowed his brow. “Why would you–?”
“Virgil...when I tell you that I can’t...” Osgoode trailed off helplessly, shrugging his shoulders.
“Just talk to me, man,” Virgil urged. “Even if it makes you feel like a fool. How can I not understand or even stand to get it when you don’t try even try to tell me?”
“Because I can’t! Because you won’t think that its real, or that–that I’m telling the truth!” Osgoode cried. “It’s too–! I can’t risk it because–!”
“Why?” Virgil barked at him. “Just try me!”
Osgoode hesitated for a few moments. He glanced at the door–but the alien was gone. The room felt suffocating–They were silent. Waiting for him to explain. There was a hint of mockery in the air, as if They were humoring him with Their silence. He swallowed hard, looking down at the piles of photos.
He could feel Virgil staring at him, waiting for him to explain. He could feel Richard watching him as well, unsure of what he was going to say. Suddenly, at that very moment, he just wanted to be next to his brother–to feel secure in what he was going to say. Because what he had to say was too outrageous for anybody to understand, or even try to get.
He swallowed hard. Richard must have felt his need, because he moved to his side, standing still at his right. Osgoode could smell his sweat and his fear–it was a mixture that made him feel strong and in-control.
“We aren’t actually human,” he began, reciting what he knew. He heard Them giving sucking sounds, as if They were sucking in great deal of air to hold in anticipation of Virgil’s reaction. “We were conceived by a mixture of human replicate DNA and an unidentifiable alien humanoid race that was proven compatible with Earth’s human race. Manufactured right out of a genetic space lab, numbered as a set; the head scientist decided to make us twins rather than one individual on a whim. They impregnated our mother, who was proven barren by Earth standards; not because she was barren, but because she was chosen at birth to have us. Her womb had been designed especially for us. During her first trimester, instead of having her lose us in a ‘miscarry’ as They normally do with human women carrying Their children, They decided to let her carry us out into full term. When we were born, They hadn’t expected us to live, considering how our forms could not adapt to human exposure and to the planet’s conditions. We weren’t expected to live until we finally adapted six years after our birth. Once They realized that we were thriving, They began Their research on us. Documenting our bodies, our memories, every aspect of our lives–from the moment we get up and from the moment we go to sleep. Sort of like...those animal shows on the Animal Planet; monitored constantly, for the documentation and entertainment of higher beings.
“What makes it more interesting is that the pair of us also have been coded with the homosexual gene–they don’t have enough research of gay individuals, and encourage us to carry on with random affairs for their research, something Richard has succeeded with.” Osgoode shot Richard a scowl, the other flushing in guilty regard. Despite himself, Virgil felt his face heat as well, looking down at the floor in momentary shame.
“They are terrifying to us. They scare us. The head scientist is cruel and uncaring, and while he monitors hundreds of us on this planet, he regrets ever making us. We were supposed to be one being, not two–he regrets my presence. We’re taken at least four times a week so that they can scold us for poor choices that we’ve made and to be tortured during their research. Richard is the one They really want–he was Their original choice. But twin human beings confuses Them, and it’s only by his choice that I remain here.” Osgoode stilled, then smirked. “And any threat to us, Their research, They will take care of. Ebon threatened our lives that day–and They took care of them. Is this what you wanted to hear, Virgil?”
Virgil stared at him in silence, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. Osgoode could see right off that the other teen couldn’t accept his explanation of ‘Them’. His limited explanation, filled with what he thought he knew, what he actually did know and what he imagined sounded so...creative. So...science fiction.
Too much for someone to actually process as reality.
After a few minutes of buzzing silence, he heard Them began to snicker, and whisper in victory in that Virgil would never believe him. He would never take them seriously, for he spoke of ‘nonsense’.
Virgil lowered his eyes, and reached up to touch his forehead. Osgoode felt pain in that action, and felt some of that anger ebb from him. He felt like a fool...
“I told you,” he said stiffly, clenching his fists. “I told you you wouldn’t believe me!”
Virgil stilled, then swept his arms out. “How can I? Do you even hear what you’re saying?! Created by aliens? Being researched by them–? I mean, c’mon! Have we watched too many sci-fi flicks?!”
Osgoode bit his lower lip, and didn’t even mind when Richard touched his hand subtly with his, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. Even if he didn’t have Virgil, or anybody else–he would have his brother.
But...in the end...Virgil was safe from Them. They didn’t find the other teen a threat. He found this a great relief, hearing Them whisper to each other in confusion. They didn’t understand why he had such feelings for Virgil...why he quickly chose to forgive him over his own brother.
“Anyway...if you can’t accept this as my truth...then I don’t know what to tell you, V. Maybe...maybe the both of us are...maybe that gas somehow affected us in some way. Maybe we have some sort of superpowers that we don’t know of, or...”
Virgil looked at him sharply, and Osgoode trailed off. The other teen wasn’t in the mood for such weak explanations or anything of the sort. He didn’t know what else to say. He grew red in the face and hunched his shoulders, clenching his hands before him.
The gas station was stifling in its tension and silence. He cast the piles of photos and notebooks a weary look. “Anyway...do what you will with them, Virge. We’re expected home. My brother and I...have to talk about...stuff. See you at school tomorrow, all right?”
“Wait, Oz–!” Virgil protested as they began walking for the door.
“‘Night, V. Have fun with that,” Osgoode called, holding the door open for his brother as they walked outside. Night had fallen, and the street lamps were out in this particular section of the street. Virgil couldn’t see their expressions, but he didn’t need to.
The door slammed shut behind Osgoode, leaving him in silence. He stared down at the piles at his feet and reviewed what Osgoode had said to him. He then shook his head in incredulous disbelief.
“...Created by aliens, sent to take over the world,” he mumbled.
01010011
The walk home was silent and filled with tension. Osgoode walked quickly, his head down and his skin splotched with red. The scene within the Gas Station of Solitude (a rather ridiculous name, but it totally fit both Virgil and Osgoode’s playful take on their headquarters) was a frightening one. But a laughable one–of course Virgil wouldn’t believe Osgoode. The entire situation, outside of the pair of them, was totally unrealistic. The world didn’t accept aliens, or human gene-farms.
Richard figured that Virgil thought Osgoode was mocking him. And Osgoode was frustrated because he was losing Virgil because the other teen wouldn’t believe him. Richard found it incredulous that after all Virgil/Static had seen since the Big Bang, he wouldn’t accept what it was that was being set before him.
But on another note, Richard was terrified of his brother’s venomous mood. He could feel Osgoode’s emotions running high and heated, and he wasn’t looking forward to being alone with his brother for any amount of time. He was too afraid to provoke his brother’s mood, so he kept a few steps behind and his mouth shut. He was angry at Virgil to agitate Osgoode with his questions and incredulousness. But then again, he had to accept that Virgil didn’t know what Osgoode did to relieve some of his anger and frustration.
They had just reached the gate into their backyard when Osgoode whirled suddenly, making Richard gasp in startled reaction. Osgoode’s eyes were furious as he reached out to grab his arm, curling his fingers tight on his forearm to draw him in close.
“I can’t believe you’d keep that secret from me!” he hissed low as he curled his other fist, Richard cringing automatically. “Messing around with that idiot! How could you?! You made me look like a fool, Richard! Was he involved that time? Did you tell him about what happens to us?”
Stammering quickly, none of his words intelligible, Richard shook his head. Osgoode reacted with a snarl, shoving him away. “Stop acting like a baby!” he growled. “What the fuck are you so afraid of?!”
“Y-you’re s-so ma-mad! I–I c-can’t–!”
“Don’t talk if you can’t say things right!” Osgoode snapped, reaching out to shove him once more. It infuriated him in that his brother was so weak. “I was told to keep my hands off you! Can’t go fucking up the prime specimen, now, can I? The favorite, the most wanted–! They don’t give a fuck about me, only that I not touch you again! I can’t see why They’d want you for Their research when you aren’t even–! FUCK!”
He curled his fingers through his hair, glaring at his brother as he sniveled, watching him with a terrified expression. Osgoode erupted with a flail of his arms. “What are you crying about?!”
“I’m n-not c-crying!”
“Then what–?!”
“You don’t hold back when you’re mad! I d-don’t k-know what you’re g-going to d-do–!”
“So you’re afraid of me?” Osgoode asked, lowering his voice. He gazed at his brother with intensity. Watching Richard, he reached out to touch his shoulder, seeing him tense up so suddenly that every visible muscle flexed. To further his intent, Osgoode curled his fingers lightly on his shoulder, a little curious as to how hard it was underneath his touch. He could feel him shaking. He spoke quietly. “You’re afraid of me when I’m mad? No one’s afraid of me when I’m mad! Are you that much of a wimp?!”
“N–no. No, yes! Yes, I–!”
Osgoode narrowed his eyes, and Richard clamped his mouth shut, feeling himself quake under that furious gaze. He was incredibly tense, unable to move because he knew Osgoode was faster and stronger than he. He didn’t want to provoke him anymore than he apparently had.
Lips curled in disgust, and the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip. It wasn’t painful–it just promised it. “It pisses me off that whenever you do something wrong, I’m expected to clean it up, to keep things comfortable for you, and you give me NOTHING in return! You’re the favorite with both of our parents, Virgil’s after YOU, and Harold thinks I’m nothing but a fucking screw-up! How the fuck am I supposed to feel, knowing that no one wants me around?! Of course I’m going to be pissed!”
Richard shook his head fiercely. It was somehow more terrifying with Osgoode just touching him with that light grip. “No, no! Everyone likes you–! They do, you just can’t see it because you’re so blind with your anger–! You’re so frightening when you’re mad–! I wish you wouldn’t be–! I can’t help it! I love you more than anything, but I can’t help it when you’re so mad! You take it out on me!”
Resentment and fury built once more, but instead of lashing out as he normally did, Osgoode removed his hand, turned, and slammed his way into the backyard. Amid the dangerous hissing from the shadows, he stalked up the walkway to the backdoor, stalked inside, and slammed it behind him. He even locked it behind him, ignoring Maggie’s questioning reaction from the kitchen.
Within the silence, Richard exhaled shakily. But tension and adrenaline still coursed through him as he thought of his brother’s anger. Osgoode had visibly held himself back–having been warned by Harold that he shouldn’t take out his anger on Richard. It was frightening to see that Osgoode hadn’t a release for his anger. It just meant that it would continue to build–and all of the ridiculous things to accuse Richard of!
But he could see that Harold meant what he’d said of his preference for Richard–he’d always commented on the trouble Osgoode put them through to ‘clean up behind him’. Richard didn’t understand that when he felt that his brother was the more capable one of them; Osgoode had many good points to him that seemed beneficial in Their research. He was the more responsible, the more rational, the more studious, the one that worked to please everybody just so that things worked more fluidly. Osgoode was always able to cheer Richard up whenever he was feeling down, and always suggested and followed through with fun things, such as cosplaying. Osgoode protected him, because it was obvious Richard often stumbled into situations impulsively or made a mistake with others that he couldn’t fix. Osgoode always made him feel safe and secure in that his presence was always nearby; and Osgoode needed him as well. Osgoode made Richard feel useful and important when he felt that he wasn’t.
Their parents didn’t favor the boys individually–their love was equal for both. As for Virgil–it was plain to Richard that Virgil had eyes only for Osgoode. Virgil wanted Richard to get into trouble, and the teen was holding a strong grudge against him for that incident.
Osgoode just wasn’t feeling well over the course of things, Richard decided, shivering. Even still, he wondered when Osgoode was going to ‘forget’ his warning and attack him. His brother was capable of so many things–if it weren’t for Harold and the others, he’d still be bearing scars from Osgoode’s anger attacks. There had been so many incidents in the past in that Osgoode attacked him, but Richard could overlook them...until it happened again. Even if Osgoode was dangerous in that aspect, he was still his brother...Richard still loved him immensely.
But he wondered what Osgoode was going to do with him. He wondered when he was going to strike.
01010011
That next day, Hotstreak found himself zapped by a low-voltage charge that had him dropping his stolen hotdog and soda. Before he could even react, his clothes were then yanked to the side, where he found himself stuck to the lamp post before the raised bridge. To find himself attacked so suddenly and without warning, Hotstreak was aghast at the treatment.
“What the hell, man?!” he cried angrily, turning his head to see Static poised a few feet away from him. “What’s your problem? Man, I didn’t do anything–!”
“Yet,” Static said crossly, hands on his hips. “I need to ask you something.”
“Aw, man, I didn’t do it. I wasn’t even around! I quit doin’ that a long time ago, and I told Puff I wasn’t gonna get involved, so I ain’t got an idea of where they took him!” Hotstreak complained, pulling at his clothes and finding himself unable to move.
Static frowned. He crossed his arms. “All right. I’ll ask about that one later. I’ve got questions about another incident entirely.”
Hotstreak then looked sheepish. “Um...I don’t know nothin’. Really. I mean, I was just talkin’ out of my ass, cuz I was startled and all. Forget all that.”
“Does it look like I forget about anything? Anyway, hold up. Chill out a moment. This ain’t gettin’ you in trouble, or anything. I just got a few questions that I need you to answer truthfully to. This is serious.” Static then withdrew a photo from a jacket pocket, hovering close so he could show the picture into the meta’s face. Seeing the contents, Hotstreak turned as red as his hair and shirt. “You can’t lie about this–I just want your confirmation that you were seeing him.”
“Aw man...what the fuck? Where’d you get that?”
“If I hadn’t accidently stumbled upon a certain vehicle on a certain day, I would have missed it. But this guy and his brother had a stalker. Trust me, man, he has a LOT more of these than you can imagine. You can’t lie–I’ve got more evidence back at my pad.”
Hotstreak sighed, looking painfully guilty. “Look, age of consent in the state is fifteen, cuz of that law about old guys marrying young girls for their religion–an’ we ain’t done nothing wrong. It was all consensual! It wasn’t like I fuckin’ made him–”
“I know, all right? I spoke to him, and he said what you two had was good until you broke up recently. I don’t want to know of your relationship–I just want you to confirm that you two had a thing.”
Hotstreak scowled for a few moments, then muttered an affirmative. Static put the photo away, then released him with a cautious look. Hotstreak was momentarily puzzled, but he stayed put, glaring at his wasted hot dog and soda.
“Look...there is something big going on, and...I’m not going to blame you, or bother you for your involvement,” Static started. “But I need to ask you a few things about that day in Ebon’s hideout.”
Hotstreak looked at him with an undeciding expression, one eye focused away. Static wondered, for a brief moment, how Richard was able to stand that flaw of his. Osgoode had always complained he’d go cross-eyed looking into his face.
“Like what?” the meta asked in a sullen tone.
“Both you and me know Ebon didn’t do it,” Static then said, lowering himself so that he was level with the meta. Hotstreak shrugged in reply.
“I really don’t care,” he muttered. “I mean, the city’s a lot safer without that ass around here. It ain’t exactly a secret that he and I didn’t like each other, anyway. But...you’re right. Ebon ain’t the type to snap, even when those guys in the tv said he was capable of it. You seen those bodies, right?”
Static felt his stomach bubbled with the renewed memories of the Metabreed. He still counted himself lucky he hadn’t seen Shiv–the coroner had reported the Asian’s death as ‘hideous’. “Yeah. So...I was wondering–”
“‘Sides, there’s–” Hotstreak cut himself off suddenly, lowering his eyes to the ground as a couple of onlookers gawked at them. “Geez. Can we talk about this somewhere else? I don’t want it known what I know...”
Static caught sight of the pair, who were waiting for a customary battle between the two known nemeses. He looked at Hotstreak sternly. “Can I count on you to be where we agree? I need to figure this out, man. Think of it–if we don’t cooperate, whatever killed Ebon and the others might go after the rest of us.”
Hotstreak scowled, rubbing his chin in thought. He then looked around himself, as if searching for anybody spying on the pair of them. But as he satisfied himself with that, he retained an expression of anxiousness. “Whatever. Meet me at the docks. Seems like They don’t like water, an’ They won’t spy on us there.”
Static gave him a startled look, but the metahuman was already walking away.