Chapter Text
Learning that Virgil had gotten superpowers in the Big Bang a week ago had been the most exciting thing to ever happen to Richie. Sure it would’ve been rad if he had gotten superpowers too, but being Static’s man behind the scenes was still cool. Overnight his life had gone from bland and boring to exciting and extraordinary. His best friend was an honest to God superhero. It was like living in a comic book.
… but this wasn’t a comic. This was real life with real stakes.
“Static!” Richie shouted. He watched helplessly from the sidelines as a hulking bang baby swung a large wooden beam into the side of Static’s head. It connected with a crack as the beam snapped in half. The blow sent Static slamming into the wall of the building they were fighting outside of – a pawn shop the Bang Baby had hit up. He then dropped to the ground like a bag of bricks. Not moving. Again Richie found himself wishing for powers of his own.
He ran towards Static as the Bang Baby fled with the money and other valuables they’d stolen. Richie dropped to his knees next to his friend’s collapsed form. “Static?” he shook his shoulders.
“Wha’ … ‘appen’” Static’s gloved hands brushed along the ground, pushing without any force behind it. Richie adjusted his grip so he could pull Static up.
“That bang baby made a homerun using your–!” Without warning, Static’s eyes rolled back into his head and his body went limp the moment Richie got him sitting up. “Virgil!” the cry burst from his lips unbidden. He wrapped an arm around Static’s middle and pulled his friend close to keep him from kissing the concrete again. “Static! Man, you gotta wake up.” Richie could hear sirens which were getting progressively louder. The police would be showing up soon. Too slow to be of any help stopping the bang baby, but fast enough to cause trouble for them.
Because Virgil had only gone out as Static a couple times and had yet to interact directly with any cops. And sure plenty of cities – like Metropolis, Star, and Central to name a few – had police departments that regularly worked with superheroes, but vigilantism was still technically illegal, and Dakota City had never had a superhero. Richie didn’t know how the DPD would handle the appearance of a superhero. They might try to arrest Virgil. “C’mon bro we gotta go, and I can’t carry you. Hafta start laying off the fries once in a—” Richie started to babble, an edge of panic pitching his voice up. A groan from Static killed the rest of the words which were bubbling up Richie’s throat.
“St’p … shoutin’” Static mumbled as his eyes fluttered and his head bobbed. “Helluva headache,” he groaned, pressing a hand to the gash on his temple. “Wha…?” he pulled his hand away, blinking at the blood smeared on his glove.
“C’mon.” Richie wrapped Static’s other arm around his shoulders and pulled him to his feet.
“Huh? Whoa.” Static stumbled along next to him. Richie might have joked about not being able to carry Static out, but that was practically what he was doing.
“Just hang tight, buddy,” Richie said as he pulled Static into an alley.
“Th’nk … gonna—” Static suddenly doubled over and hurled.
“Oh, right on my shoes!” Richie grimaced as his sneakers were splattered in vomit.
“S’rry,” Static mumbled as his knees went weak.
“Hey, don’t sweat it.” Richie wrapped an arm around his waist to stop him from collapsing. He dragged Static away from the puddle of sick, rambling as he did. “They’re old. Been looking for something to convince my mom I need a new pair, and you my friend just provided that.” He lowered Static to the ground so his back was leaning against the rough brick wall of one of the buildings lining the alley. Richie knelt before him, pointedly ignoring the squelching of his shoes, and shrugged off the backpack Virgil had tossed to him when the fight began.
Richie looked around. The alley was deserted aside from the two of them. A shiver ran down his spine. Alone in a dark and grimy alley with his hurt friend, Richie felt very alone and not just in the physical sense. Virgil becoming Static had been so exciting that Richie hadn’t considered the danger involved. Neither of them had really. When Richie saw Superman, Green Lantern, and other Justice League members on the news they seemed untouchable. Gods among men. It was so easy to forget that each and every one of them had weaknesses, could be injured—that putting on a mask didn’t make one invincible.
“Okay, okay.” Richie adjusted his glasses, shaking off his wandering thoughts.
“Rich…?” Virgil mumbled.
“I’m here, V.” he carefully slipped off Static’s mask and goggles, so he could get a better look at the gash at his temple. “I don’t think it’s that bad. Looks like the bleeding’s already stopping,” he muttered more to himself than Virgil. He plastered on a wide grin and lightly clapped Virgil on the shoulder. “Good news: you’re gonna live!”
“…cool.” Virgil blinked at him, still looking pretty dazed.
“Coolest of cools,” Richie replied absently as he unzipped Virgil’s backpack revealing his street clothes waded up inside. “Alright get changed then we can get you home to rest. We’ll tell your pops it was a …. baseball! You got caught by a batter’s backswing, yeah, sure, that sounds believable.” He shrugged.
Richie would have to help Virgil change, and the walk to the Hawkins’ house would be slow going. But once there Mr. H would take charge; he’d get Virgil some ice for his head and send him to bed. He’d be slightly suspicious of the cover story, but would accept it without much pushing. Virgil was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. Richie had everything under control—he had to, Virgil needed him. And while he might feel like he was in over his head, that just meant he had to start swimming.