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Momma, I've Been Cryin'	By : DarkSeductress Category: +S through Z > Static Shock Views: 3560 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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July 27, 2005
Fandom: Static Shock
“Momma, I’ve Been Cryin’”
By: DarkSeductress
Pairing: Virgil/Richie
Disclaimer: Sadly enough, Static Shock does not belong to me. Lyric excerpt is take from “The Sun” by Maroon 5.
Summary: Richie examines how things between him and Virgil have changed, since they had sex. The boys are in their senior year of high school (this only matters for timeline purposes, because this is the first of many). And Sharon knows about Static and Gear.
And sometimes it’s a sad song
But I can not forget
Refuse to regret
Am so glad I met you
And take my breath away
Make everyday worth all of the pain
That I’ve gone through
And Momma, I’ve been cryin’
Cause things ain’t how they used to be
She said, “The battles almost won,
And we’re only several miles from the sun.”
            Richie’s eyes were red. So red you could see it through his glasses, if you cared to notice. And lately it seemed everyone noticed. Since it was spring he easily lied to everyone and blamed it on seasonal allergies. Most people believe him, despite the fact he’d never had spring allergies before. Even Mr. Hawkins seemed appeased with his answer.
            But when he had mistakenly taken off his glasses in front of his mom and she asked him why his eyes looked so raw, he couldn’t lie to her. He had already lied to her so much about almost everything concerning his life. So when she asked him in that soft tone, only a worried mother can pull off, he wanted to tell her the truth. Besides, his mind added as an afterthought, she knows he doesn’t have allergies.
            So Richie opened his mouth. Then he closed it.
            Then he said, “I’ve been crying,” in such a flat, calm voice that he even surprised himself.
            Next thing he knew, she had abandoned the dishes she had been washing to pull a chair beside him and grab his hand. Her hand was wet and sudsy, he noted absently.
            When she said, “Sweetie,” followed by, “what’s wrong,” he cringed at the soft tone and suddenly felt like a girl. He felt like a girl because he had just admitted to crying aloud and the reasons for said crying were absolutely stupid and embarrassing. Suddenly lying to his mother seemed like a great idea.
            But instead of lying he settled for ambiguity and mumbled, “Things...Just ain’t how they used to be....” He let the statement hang in the air as he gently wrenched his hand away and stood to move towards the fridge. She could draw her own conclusion, maybe she’d think he was stressing over preparing for college. Just anything but the truth. He’d always let her do it in the past and it seemed to work, so there was no need to break tradition.
            He almost dropped the cup in his hand when she asked him, “Is there something wrong between you and Virgil?”
            She couldn’t possibly know, could she? His thoughts spun wildly until he rationalized that there was no possible way she could know. He was just being paranoid. But the look she was giving him, it was so strained and knowing as if there was more she wanted to say.
            But she merely shrugged at his expression, “You haven’t stayed over to his house in weeks. And in those weeks, you’ve been moping around here. Your fathers thinks you’ve moved on and just grown up. But I know something’s wrong.”
            Her last statement hung in the air. At that moment both parts of Richie’s brain, the rational and irrational, agreed that she knew something. With that tone to her voice she had to know everything and was just waiting for him to confess, to confide in her. Something Richie wasn’t sure he could do without making them both extremely uncomfortable. He just couldn’t say, ‘Mom, you’re absolutely right. Virgil fucked me a few weeks ago and now everything’s weird because neither of use want to talk about it. Oh and by the way did I mention I was gay?’
            But then again, if she already knew, maybe he could say that. She’d only turn red, have an aneurysm on the brain and die. Especially if he said it like that.
            Suddenly he was speaking without thinking, “We had a fight.” It wasn’t actually a lie. They were having a fight of sorts, just without all the words and yelling (though Richie was sure that would come later). At the same time he thought how sad it was, that he could lie without thinking about. It was almost second nature.
            The expression on her face told him, she knew he was feeding her bullshit, “Must have been a bad fight.”
            “Yeah. It was.” Richie turned his back to her as he spoke and proceeded to pour soda in his cup. He could never lie to her face. It was better if his back saw what his face didn’t want to see, the pain of a mother with a son, who held too many damn secrets. He sipped his soda as he listened to her sigh before moving back to the dishes.
            Richie gripped his cup. Another failed attempt as always. Her waiting and him running as fast as he fucking could. There was his chance once again to be honest, to reconnect with his mother after all these years of deceit and he just let it slip away. History is nothing but a damn endless waltz, just repeating itself over and over [1]. The story of his lousy life. And just like that he was angry at everyone. At himself for not letting her in. At her for being too nice to pry. At Virgil for ruining the balance of his life.
            He emptied his cup before moving to sit it in the sink. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked towards the doorway leading into the living room.
            But he paused as she sighed loudly, “Richie....”
            He turned to look at her, “Mom?”
            Their eyes met.
            “Richie, I love you and that will never change regardless of anything. So if there’s anything....if you want to....regardless of what....just...” Her voice dropped off to a whisper as she fumbled for words to convey her feelings, “I’m here. Okay?”
            Richie looked away. She was trying. Again. But he couldn’t bring himself to let her in. He decided for all his genius and super-hero antics, he was a coward. He nodded, “Okay,” before retreating from the kitchen. He was almost certain now that she knew he was gay, knew what happened between him and Virgil, and most likely knew he was Gear.
            He also knew she’d never say a damn word about any of it, unless he admitted to it all. And he really wanted to tell her because keeping secrets hurt. Especially now that the only person who knew all of his secrets had alienated themself from him. That hurt worse, thus the tears of girly anguish.
            Richie muttered a few profane words as he flounced on his bed face first. This was all so stupid. Whoever said sex doesn’t change a friendship, didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about.
            Nothing was the same. Sex changed everything. And that’s exactly what they had. No love making. Just hot sex, after the patrol from hell.
            Richie remembered it vividly. It seemed every damn bang baby within Dakota City had come out of hibernation and just wouldn’t go away. At first Virgil and him were amused, it seemed Ebon had called an open casting call for knew recruits but the amusement quickly gave way to frustration and annoyance. The night had ended with Virgil getting hit by a zap cap and Richie landing in a dumpster. Virgil had tried to laugh it off but Richie was pissed, especially when Virgil went to touch his shoulder but only let his hand hover over it. It seemed in that moment all of Richie’s anger at Virgil’s odd behavior since finding out he was gay combusted. It had been 6 damn months and Virgil still couldn’t allow himself to throw a casual arm around Richie’s shoulders.
            So as soon as they reached the gas station of solitude, the argument had begun all over Virgil’s lack of physical contact. It escalated into a nasty fight, ending with Richie trapped under Virgil as he proceeded to prove, he wasn’t homophobic or scared of touching Richie by shoving his tongue into his mouth. At that moment the calm, logical part of Richie’s mind knew there was going to be hell to pay for this. But Richie didn’t care as the pleasure and pain numbed his mind to all thought. He knew Virgil would regret this but Richie didn’t care because he wouldn’t.
            When it was over Virgil wouldn’t look at him. He simply mumbled something that sounded like ‘Sorry, bro,’ before moving to the other side of the room and proceeding clean himself off and change into his street clothes.
            Richie was glad that his numbed-brain didn’t let him process the fact that he was pissed and hurt because he was sure he would have tried to kill Virgil. He simply stared at the ceiling. Maybe Virgil needed to think for a moment. Maybe he was just speechless.
            But instead of a grand proclamation of love, Virgil simply mumbled, “See ya tomorrow, bro.”
            And suddenly Richie felt anger so hot, he was cold to his core. He didn’t say a word as he thought darkly, that tomorrow would never come once Virgil actually allowed himself to comprehend what had just happened. His mind numbly added, “We’re not brothers. Brothers don’t have sex....”
            Once the door closed, Richie’s mind sprang to life:
            Virgil just fucked me. Everything’s different now. I just had sex with my best friend. Best friends have sex all the time. Nothing will change. Liar, you know it will. Virgil will make sure of that. I’m not a virgin anymore. My ass is gonna be sore. I wonder if I can still walk. I just fucked my best friend. He’s going to regret it. That hurts. I won’t.
            And that’s the circle his mind ran over and over as his hands pulled the soiled clothing off. And as he stood cleaning himself, Richie felt tears slide down his cheeks. It happened to be the first moment of many, he felt like a post-virginal, hormonal girl.
            That was exactly how he felt now lying on his bed, reaching a hand to touch a damp cheek.
            Tomorrow had never come for either them because Richie had stayed away from the Hawkins residence for a week and in school he avoided Virgil like a nasty plague. Richie was both hurt and consoled by the fact that Virgil made no real effort to talk to him either. He didn’t want to talk about it just yet, so whenever ever Virgil tried to wave him over he’d just resist the urge to flip him off, nod his head, and then duck out of sight. It didn’t help to see Daisy attached to Virgil’s arm everywhere he went. It seemed like Richie’s absence didn’t make any difference.
            So, when he finally decided to drag his sniveling ass to the Hawkins’ doorstep, he was crushed to find Virgil was out with Daisy and annoyed when Sharon hauled him inside to play 20 questions, to which he gave 20 three-word answers. He doubted Sharon believed any answer, especially the allergy excuse.
            After nearly fighting his way out of the house and barely controlling the impulse to mutter something particularly profane and rude at Sharon for being so damn nosey, Richie resolved he wasn’t going back to the Hawkins house or the gas station of solitude unless he was sure Virgil wouldn’t be there and it was absolutely necessary. But being that him and his dad rarely argued anymore, just ignored the other’s existence, he doubted it would be necessary.
            Richie sighed, he had rarely been to either place in weeks. This must be what it is like to be miles from sun. To be so consumed by the emotions provoked by the thought of one person, that you feel like every part of you would melt. That’s how Richie felt. How he had always felt for Virgil. Except now it was worse, it was suffocating to him the point it was painful to breath and his only release would be to pull a Virgil: meaning he’d have to deny anything had happened.
            But Richie couldn’t do that. He couldn’t think this into oblivion. This couldn’t be locked in a box and rationalized to where it didn’t hurt. It was only worsened by his lack of regret. To remember was one thing but to treasure the memory only complicated matters.
            Richie growled with frustration before jumping up and marching downstairs. When he reached the living room, he met the sight of his mom sitting on the couch flipping channels. He swallowed the lump in his throat. She should know. He had to tell her. Most importantly he wanted to tell her. He raked a hand through his hair as he crossed the room and sat beside her.
            She glanced at him expectantly.
            Richie glanced at the clock and calculated that he had 6 hours until his dad got home. That was more than enough time to tell her everything he wanted. Maybe afterwards, he could resolve things with Virgil, and while he was at it maybe he could walk on water too.
            “Mom,” His voice wasn’t calm, in fact it was shaking as he spoke, “There are some things....I need to tell you.”
            She moved closer and took his hand again, “I’m listening.”
            This time he let her hold his hand and stared at their entwined hands before taking a deep breath, “I’m gay.”
            Her reaction couldn’t have shocked him more than if she had started screaming at him. She smiled and gripped him in a hug. He could swear she was sniffling as he hesitantly wrapped his arms arm her frame.
            “Jesus, Mom, I didn’t say I was dying....” He muttered, feeling more and more of his masculinity blowing away in the wind.
            She pulled back and wiped her eyes hastily and laughed a little, “I know. I know. It’s just that I’ve been waiting for you to tell me that for a while now.”
            Richie rolled his eyes, “Somehow I had feeling you knew.”
            She nodded, “I just wanted to hear it from you. I wanted you to trust me. You keep so many secrets, sometimes I feel I don’t know you anymore.” She smiled sadly, “I’m happy you finally trust me.”
            Richie felt his cheeks grow hot. “Yeah. Well. Shit.” He muttered darkly, “I might as well go for broke.”
            She raised an eyebrow at him.
            “Well, about that Virgil situation....”
            And that’s how the first half of Richie’s healing begun. Talking to his mom had been refreshing and a bit uncomfortable. She had listened. Even though she said she wouldn’t ask him to stop playing super-hero as Gear, he could tell she still wanted him to stop. He didn’t divulge all the details of what had happened between him and Virgil, he figured she could do without the scarring. He merely hinted at a kiss gone wrong and their weird feelings and Virgil’s problem with denial. She suggested he talk to Virgil and beat some sense into him. After all, they were best friends and had survived death, surely they could survive this. Richie wasn’t too sure about that but he promised he would try. Maybe he could put all his girly crying behind himself and redeem himself.
End of part 1.
Author’s Notes: [1] Is a quote taken from Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz the movie.
Look for “Inside I Still Am Empty”
Virgil’s Pov.
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Momma, I've Been Cryin'