Static Shock Fan Fiction ❯ Watch The Sky ❯ Epilogue ( Epilogue )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Manga-Chick 
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: 04.22.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 270 | Status: Completed
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: 04.22.2007 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 270 | 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: Mucho thanks to all those that read this fic! Questions, comments, requests for a sequel of sorts or one-shots concerning something...? Let me know PUHLEASE! Otherwise, I’m happy that ya’ll read this fic.
Epilogue
Osgoode sat atop of the toilet seat, watching Sean fuss with the ointment as Richard tilted his neck to bare the wound to him. Last night the hospital visit was full of tension and awkwardness, their carefully concocted story of bullies and chainlink fences being explained to their parents and the nurse and doctor present. Static chose to stay out of the incident, considering the protection he felt Osgoode needed at that moment.
Tonight Osgoode didn’t know what to say to his brother as he watched him and Sean fuss and complain over their actions. Things were different, now. There was a large wall of awkwardness between them that hadn’t been there before.
Knowing that They were no longer going to govern them left the twins feeling lost. Alone. And definitely more aware than ever of their own mortality.
He watched as Sean applied the ointment with rough actions, making Richard complain as he watched this in the mirror. They would no longer come along to heal their injuries...every scar he would put on his own brother would remain there. Every injury he would administer would be treated...normally. To know that he was thinking in this manner, completely overwhelmed in the realization in that he could no longer be so venomous in his attacks gave him a confusing feeling. He wasn’t exactly sure if he were disappointed or scared.
Sean left after tossing the tube into the sink, angrily complaining over Richard’s lack of thankfulness in his helping, the older twin sulking in response. Osgoode studied the wound that had required stitches, chewing his bottom lip. He felt emotionally drained as he recalled the words Richard had said–telling him that it would be okay to kill him. He could remember actually considering it; visualizing a world without his brother. No threats to Virgil/Static via Hotstreak...no more cleaning up after Richard whenever he fell into trouble...his parents would have to focus directly on him...Virgil wouldn’t have Richard to oogle...no cigarette smoke, no covering for his twin, taking on his half of the house chores, no embarrassing public actions or crossdressing...
He would miss his brother, perhaps feel guilt and some depression...but the world would seem so much lighter without him around.
He didn’t know if he should feel disturbed. He found himself questioning why he should.
The wound was covered by a sloppy job of gauze and tape. Richard looked away from the mirror to look at him with a sort of cautious, hesitant expression. It turned upset as he looked away from him and left the bathroom without another word, silently making his way into the room. Once Osgoode heard his door shut, he remembered that Richard could feel his feelings.
Somehow, it was easier to accept that Richard knew what he was currently feeling at the moment. It made it easier for Osgoode, in that he wouldn’t have to tell him or express this to him verbally.
01010011
Knowing that his brother would consider killing him to make his life easier left Richard upset and paranoid. Knowing that nothing could hold Osgoode back, no longer under the control of Harold and They was a terribly frightening realization. After that night, there was a strangeness to Osgoode that seemed to grow as their freedom became more obvious. He could feel Osgoode running the words he’d spewed in desperation and fright with an almost awed consideration.
He felt shocked that his brother would completely disregard all for a life without him. He felt betrayed and rejected in that Osgoode would forgo all human basics for something so...evil. It hurt that his brother felt so much resentment and anger toward him. It terrified him that he no longer had any security from him. It horrified him in that his brother was spending so much time considering his thoughts and not seeing that his thoughts were wrong. It was as if his brother lacked that fundamental detail.
Because of this, he spent the remainder of that week quietly staying out of his brother’s way. Nervously keeping Osgoode in sight at all times and too afraid to sleep. Too anxious to eat, to concentrate, to be normal–it felt that Osgoode was just waiting for a specific time or place to carry out his thoughts. While his brother behaved normally, if not a little quieter, his feelings and his thoughts were obvious as Richard detected them.
That next Saturday night, he walked towards the Gas Station, needing to talk to Virgil about Osgoode. That entire week, Virgil was considerably quieter than usual, but he and Osgoode were once more on better speaking terms. Spending as much time as they could to talk quietly, disappearing for hours together as they rebuilt their friendship. But tonight Maggie had taken Osgoode out for a shoe shopping trip at the mall, and Richard had been too agitated to go with them.
Richard felt constantly torn and upset, unable to confide his troubles in anyone else. But if Virgil had an idea of what was going on...perhaps he could do something.
Osgoode had installed particular locks and codes on the windows and doors, hiding the key panel underneath an imitation brick cover. He accessed the code and walked in, listening for movement. He saw that Virgil was struggling to replace his disk with another, mumbling under his breath over the state of his previous one. With welding tools spread around him and dressed in protective gear, the teen had taken over Osgoode’s supplies and tools to fix himself a new disk.
When he realized he wasn’t alone, he looked up sharply. Virgil was able to tell them apart, now, thanks to the still healing wound on his neck. He was cautious as he straightened away from the desk, lowering the welding tools and removing the visor. Self-consciously, very aware that Osgoode could pop in and get some wretched wrong idea of the situation, Richard kept himself near the door, shoving his hands into his sweater pockets.
But he wasn’t sure how to come out with it–he knew how Virgil viewed him, and where he stood. With the way Virgil either denied or ignored Osgoode’s dark side, Richard then started to question himself on whether addressing the situation to him was a good one. What if he starting questioning Osgoode and Osgoode grew furious?
It was a blow between the eyes as he realized this, flushing heatedly as his throat tightened. He began moving toward the door as Virgil gave him a puzzled look, moving away from the table. “N-never mind. Don’t tell Oz I was here, all right? I just–”
“No, wait. Wait a minute. What’s going on? Where’s Oz?” Virgil asked, his expression turning bewildered.
But his question went unanswered as Richard stumbled out from the building and hurried off in the opposite direction. The conflicts that swirled within him upset him. He couldn’t help but feel concern and love for his brother, knowing why he harbored so many things–but he was also very paranoid and agitated in that he could be murdered for no real reason by his own twin brother.
He was so involved in his feelings and thoughts that he didn’t see the car speeding down the road as he stepped off the sidewalk.
01010011
The lack of injuries on Osgoode was something that had surprised Virgil the day after that night. With all the actions that had been taken that night, Osgoode should have been too sore to move. But then again it explained many things–he’d seen the twin take some serious hits and had numerous impact on concrete that should have left bruises. He hadn’t questioned it because Osgoode never seemed to be in pain. It would make sense that with his alien genes he’d be something of a superhuman. It would also explain his strength and rather surpassing athleticism.
He was kicking himself over missing that entirely when he heard the crash of metal slam into an unmoveable object outside. Tossing off his protective gear, he quickly yanked on his mask and left his unfinished disk behind, retrieving a scrap of metal as he jetted up through the hole in the ceiling. He saw the car lying on its side across the street–zipping over, he forced the vehicle right side up, the driver a dazed, bloodied mess in the front seat. Before he could do anything, Osgoode was suddenly there, shouting about sparks lighting the gas that had leaked on the road.
Sure enough, before Static could fully process that Osgoode was there, he saw flames shoot toward the car, where the rolling vehicle had its gas container burst upon impact. The metal, as the car rolled upon the street, had created sparks in its screeching trip over the road. He quickly wrenched the broken door from the car so that his partner could pull the driver out of the vehicle. Before he could turn to handle the fire, the dazed driver shouted being attacked by a Bang Baby, putting up a struggle in Osgoode’s arms. Everything was happening so quickly, and there was so much going on at that instant that Static didn’t hear everything that was being said. He turned to assess the street for any Bang Babies and realized that Richard was sitting on the sidewalk with a bloodied face, a couple of shoe store bags laying near him. But he didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary–bystanders were already calling the fire department.
He turned around for more questioning when he realized that Osgoode looked very shocked. He was holding the driver awkwardly in his arms, the woman dead-weight and boneless in his arms. As Static helped him drag her away from the inflamed vehicle, the superhero realized that the woman was dead.
“She was just talkin’, wasn’t she?!” Static cried, checking for her pulse once Osgoode laid her on the sidewalk. There was no way to deny the alcohol fumes that wafted away from the woman, and assumptions were automatically made.
“Something about a Bang Baby,” Osgoode muttered, giving him a bewildered look. “She must’ve...she must’ve twisted her neck during impact. She wasn’t wearing a seat belt.”
Static blinked upon the twisted ruin of her neck. His skin crawled at that moment. He looked up to say something when Osgoode stalked away from him, heading toward his brother.
“Why weren’t you watching where you were going?!” he heard Osgoode scream over the noise in the street. There was no mistaking the way Richard cringed over his confrontation, hands going up in preparation. “You could have been hit! Stupid idiot! You think you’re invincible or something? You’re lucky I was here to pull you out of the way!”
Uncomfortably, Static looked back at the woman, then back at the flaming vehicle. He knew something was wrong–but he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to pursue it. Not after all they’d gone through, after all that he’d learned. He still wasn’t quite sure where he was going with Osgoode. Sitting with a forlorn expression on his face, he looked back at the twins; one screaming in flailing anger, the other bleeding quietly as he cringed.
He sighed as he rested his elbows upon his knees, looking at the street. He wasn’t sure if he’d made the right choice...wasn’t sure if he’d regret not making one in the future. He simply watched the twins and wondered...
Warning: profanity, darkness, slash, Out of Character
A/N: Mucho thanks to all those that read this fic! Questions, comments, requests for a sequel of sorts or one-shots concerning something...? Let me know PUHLEASE! Otherwise, I’m happy that ya’ll read this fic.
Epilogue
Osgoode sat atop of the toilet seat, watching Sean fuss with the ointment as Richard tilted his neck to bare the wound to him. Last night the hospital visit was full of tension and awkwardness, their carefully concocted story of bullies and chainlink fences being explained to their parents and the nurse and doctor present. Static chose to stay out of the incident, considering the protection he felt Osgoode needed at that moment.
Tonight Osgoode didn’t know what to say to his brother as he watched him and Sean fuss and complain over their actions. Things were different, now. There was a large wall of awkwardness between them that hadn’t been there before.
Knowing that They were no longer going to govern them left the twins feeling lost. Alone. And definitely more aware than ever of their own mortality.
He watched as Sean applied the ointment with rough actions, making Richard complain as he watched this in the mirror. They would no longer come along to heal their injuries...every scar he would put on his own brother would remain there. Every injury he would administer would be treated...normally. To know that he was thinking in this manner, completely overwhelmed in the realization in that he could no longer be so venomous in his attacks gave him a confusing feeling. He wasn’t exactly sure if he were disappointed or scared.
Sean left after tossing the tube into the sink, angrily complaining over Richard’s lack of thankfulness in his helping, the older twin sulking in response. Osgoode studied the wound that had required stitches, chewing his bottom lip. He felt emotionally drained as he recalled the words Richard had said–telling him that it would be okay to kill him. He could remember actually considering it; visualizing a world without his brother. No threats to Virgil/Static via Hotstreak...no more cleaning up after Richard whenever he fell into trouble...his parents would have to focus directly on him...Virgil wouldn’t have Richard to oogle...no cigarette smoke, no covering for his twin, taking on his half of the house chores, no embarrassing public actions or crossdressing...
He would miss his brother, perhaps feel guilt and some depression...but the world would seem so much lighter without him around.
He didn’t know if he should feel disturbed. He found himself questioning why he should.
The wound was covered by a sloppy job of gauze and tape. Richard looked away from the mirror to look at him with a sort of cautious, hesitant expression. It turned upset as he looked away from him and left the bathroom without another word, silently making his way into the room. Once Osgoode heard his door shut, he remembered that Richard could feel his feelings.
Somehow, it was easier to accept that Richard knew what he was currently feeling at the moment. It made it easier for Osgoode, in that he wouldn’t have to tell him or express this to him verbally.
01010011
Knowing that his brother would consider killing him to make his life easier left Richard upset and paranoid. Knowing that nothing could hold Osgoode back, no longer under the control of Harold and They was a terribly frightening realization. After that night, there was a strangeness to Osgoode that seemed to grow as their freedom became more obvious. He could feel Osgoode running the words he’d spewed in desperation and fright with an almost awed consideration.
He felt shocked that his brother would completely disregard all for a life without him. He felt betrayed and rejected in that Osgoode would forgo all human basics for something so...evil. It hurt that his brother felt so much resentment and anger toward him. It terrified him that he no longer had any security from him. It horrified him in that his brother was spending so much time considering his thoughts and not seeing that his thoughts were wrong. It was as if his brother lacked that fundamental detail.
Because of this, he spent the remainder of that week quietly staying out of his brother’s way. Nervously keeping Osgoode in sight at all times and too afraid to sleep. Too anxious to eat, to concentrate, to be normal–it felt that Osgoode was just waiting for a specific time or place to carry out his thoughts. While his brother behaved normally, if not a little quieter, his feelings and his thoughts were obvious as Richard detected them.
That next Saturday night, he walked towards the Gas Station, needing to talk to Virgil about Osgoode. That entire week, Virgil was considerably quieter than usual, but he and Osgoode were once more on better speaking terms. Spending as much time as they could to talk quietly, disappearing for hours together as they rebuilt their friendship. But tonight Maggie had taken Osgoode out for a shoe shopping trip at the mall, and Richard had been too agitated to go with them.
Richard felt constantly torn and upset, unable to confide his troubles in anyone else. But if Virgil had an idea of what was going on...perhaps he could do something.
Osgoode had installed particular locks and codes on the windows and doors, hiding the key panel underneath an imitation brick cover. He accessed the code and walked in, listening for movement. He saw that Virgil was struggling to replace his disk with another, mumbling under his breath over the state of his previous one. With welding tools spread around him and dressed in protective gear, the teen had taken over Osgoode’s supplies and tools to fix himself a new disk.
When he realized he wasn’t alone, he looked up sharply. Virgil was able to tell them apart, now, thanks to the still healing wound on his neck. He was cautious as he straightened away from the desk, lowering the welding tools and removing the visor. Self-consciously, very aware that Osgoode could pop in and get some wretched wrong idea of the situation, Richard kept himself near the door, shoving his hands into his sweater pockets.
But he wasn’t sure how to come out with it–he knew how Virgil viewed him, and where he stood. With the way Virgil either denied or ignored Osgoode’s dark side, Richard then started to question himself on whether addressing the situation to him was a good one. What if he starting questioning Osgoode and Osgoode grew furious?
It was a blow between the eyes as he realized this, flushing heatedly as his throat tightened. He began moving toward the door as Virgil gave him a puzzled look, moving away from the table. “N-never mind. Don’t tell Oz I was here, all right? I just–”
“No, wait. Wait a minute. What’s going on? Where’s Oz?” Virgil asked, his expression turning bewildered.
But his question went unanswered as Richard stumbled out from the building and hurried off in the opposite direction. The conflicts that swirled within him upset him. He couldn’t help but feel concern and love for his brother, knowing why he harbored so many things–but he was also very paranoid and agitated in that he could be murdered for no real reason by his own twin brother.
He was so involved in his feelings and thoughts that he didn’t see the car speeding down the road as he stepped off the sidewalk.
01010011
The lack of injuries on Osgoode was something that had surprised Virgil the day after that night. With all the actions that had been taken that night, Osgoode should have been too sore to move. But then again it explained many things–he’d seen the twin take some serious hits and had numerous impact on concrete that should have left bruises. He hadn’t questioned it because Osgoode never seemed to be in pain. It would make sense that with his alien genes he’d be something of a superhuman. It would also explain his strength and rather surpassing athleticism.
He was kicking himself over missing that entirely when he heard the crash of metal slam into an unmoveable object outside. Tossing off his protective gear, he quickly yanked on his mask and left his unfinished disk behind, retrieving a scrap of metal as he jetted up through the hole in the ceiling. He saw the car lying on its side across the street–zipping over, he forced the vehicle right side up, the driver a dazed, bloodied mess in the front seat. Before he could do anything, Osgoode was suddenly there, shouting about sparks lighting the gas that had leaked on the road.
Sure enough, before Static could fully process that Osgoode was there, he saw flames shoot toward the car, where the rolling vehicle had its gas container burst upon impact. The metal, as the car rolled upon the street, had created sparks in its screeching trip over the road. He quickly wrenched the broken door from the car so that his partner could pull the driver out of the vehicle. Before he could turn to handle the fire, the dazed driver shouted being attacked by a Bang Baby, putting up a struggle in Osgoode’s arms. Everything was happening so quickly, and there was so much going on at that instant that Static didn’t hear everything that was being said. He turned to assess the street for any Bang Babies and realized that Richard was sitting on the sidewalk with a bloodied face, a couple of shoe store bags laying near him. But he didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary–bystanders were already calling the fire department.
He turned around for more questioning when he realized that Osgoode looked very shocked. He was holding the driver awkwardly in his arms, the woman dead-weight and boneless in his arms. As Static helped him drag her away from the inflamed vehicle, the superhero realized that the woman was dead.
“She was just talkin’, wasn’t she?!” Static cried, checking for her pulse once Osgoode laid her on the sidewalk. There was no way to deny the alcohol fumes that wafted away from the woman, and assumptions were automatically made.
“Something about a Bang Baby,” Osgoode muttered, giving him a bewildered look. “She must’ve...she must’ve twisted her neck during impact. She wasn’t wearing a seat belt.”
Static blinked upon the twisted ruin of her neck. His skin crawled at that moment. He looked up to say something when Osgoode stalked away from him, heading toward his brother.
“Why weren’t you watching where you were going?!” he heard Osgoode scream over the noise in the street. There was no mistaking the way Richard cringed over his confrontation, hands going up in preparation. “You could have been hit! Stupid idiot! You think you’re invincible or something? You’re lucky I was here to pull you out of the way!”
Uncomfortably, Static looked back at the woman, then back at the flaming vehicle. He knew something was wrong–but he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to pursue it. Not after all they’d gone through, after all that he’d learned. He still wasn’t quite sure where he was going with Osgoode. Sitting with a forlorn expression on his face, he looked back at the twins; one screaming in flailing anger, the other bleeding quietly as he cringed.
He sighed as he rested his elbows upon his knees, looking at the street. He wasn’t sure if he’d made the right choice...wasn’t sure if he’d regret not making one in the future. He simply watched the twins and wondered...