Don't Judge a Book

Static is reminded that Hotstreak is only human. No-yaoi.

Disclaimer: If I owned Static Shock I wouldn't be sitting in my dorm room writing about it.

Chapter One: Symptoms

"Okay, so everybody knows the plan? There is no margin for errors here." Ebon reminded the group.

"Yes, you pompous ass. We have gone over the plan thirteen times. We know what we're supposed to do." Talon responded tightly. She and Ebon had been at each other's throats the last few weeks, fighting over the smallest things.

Francis snickered appreciatively. Talon was filling the void he usually occupied, the smart-ass defiant member of the Meta-Breed.

There were four teenagers sitting in an alley, the shadows hiding them from passerby. They were all in different stages of haphazard dress and discomfort. A cold autumn wind blew through and Talon gripped the edged of her jacket.

She looked enviously at Francis, who was lounging with his hands behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. He looked perfectly at ease wearing only a t-shirt, a sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and faded jeans with holes in the knees, although he did look a little paler than usual. His ability to manipulate fire and heat left him with the perfect internal temperature to combat the external seasons. The others weren't as lucky.

Talon was wrapped in a jacket, a sweatshirt, a scarf, gloves, jeans, and boots…and she was still cold. Ebon and Shiv were both swaddled in the same way. The wind made them shiver and blow on their hands from the cold. Their underground hideout in an abandoned subway alcove was slightly warmer and drier, but the early winter had left them in a constant state of chill.

On top of the cold, the group had completely run out of money for food, clothes, and blankets…hence their current enterprise.

Ebon shot Francis a look and the red-head quieted, looking out to the street to hide his smirk. Ebon turned to Talon. "Just being careful, we screw this up and we'll be looking at a nice long stay at the Dakota Pen behind mutant safe bars of energy and 24-hour guard…unless you'd like that?"

Talon shut her mouth and crossed her arms.

"That's what I thought." Ebon looked at Shiv, the final member of the group who was being uncharacteristically silent. He was sitting cross-legged, playing with the frayed hem of his glove. "And you?"

"What?" Shiv asked.

"You understand what's happening?"

"We're robbing a bank."

"Yes, and how are we doing that?"

Shiv's face went blank. "Uh…"

Francis lowered one hand and began sucking on the knuckle of one of his fingers. He had cut it this morning and blood continued to trickle through his fingerless gloves even now a few hours later.

"That's still bleeding?" Talon asked.

Francis shrugged and tore the bottom of his pant leg, wrapping the strip securely around his finger as a makeshift bandage.

Ebon looked around at his team and sighed. "You know what, never mind. Let's just go and get this over with."

Talon and Shiv jumped up and headed out of the dark alley where they had been talking and ran for the bank across the street.

Ebon grabbed the front of Francis' grey hoodie and jerked the shorter boy's head up to his eye-level. "Three minutes and don't fuck up."

Francis scowled and stepped back, breaking Ebon's hold. "Right."

Looking distrustful, Ebon turned and sprinted after the other metahumans. Francis stared after him with a glare in his green eyes and then slapped a baseball cap on over his distinctive hair red and blond streaked hair so that no pedestrians would notice him and sauntered out into the street.

Francis was actually quite grateful for his assignment. Ebon, Shiv, and Talon ran into the bank, got the money, gave him the money, and then split up as a diversion for Static and Gear leaving him free to mingle with the rest of the city and slink back to the hideout undetected. Not that Francis wouldn't love to be in the bank melting things and cracking skulls, he was just feeling momentously shitty as of late.

He had hid the fact from the rest but he had been feeling increasingly weak the past couple of weeks and the color had drained from his face. Hell, he had woken this morning and was actually shaking and even though it was cold out, Francis felt warmer than usual, even when he tried to lower his body temperature.

Two minutes later, the front doors of the bank burst open and a loud wailing sound followed the three metahumans who barreled their way out. Ebon was clutching a backpack. His head whipped around searchingly and he spotted Francis.

Talon went one way, Shiv the other, and Ebon ran for Francis. He shoved the backpack in Francis' arms and kept running past the pyro. The motion was so fluid that no one noticed the exchange.

People on the streets leapt out of the way of the criminals, some screaming and others running away from the bank in panic. Francis slung the backpack on and wandered away from the crime scene, pulling his hood up over the cap to hide his face further. Soon, he was just another body in the crowd.

"I got Talon and Shiv and they don't have the money. Talon got away but Shiv's in custody." Gear's voice crackled over the shock vox.

Static frowned. "Well, I'm in pursuit of Ebon so he's the one with the money. Closing in now."

"Ok, check back in when you've got him."

Static sighed and flew lower to the street, bent low on his disc to go faster against the cold wind. Below, Ebon was running, knocking people into the air and looking back to see how close Static was getting. He was getting very close.

Static rammed his disc into Ebon and the two metahumans went sprawling. Static rolled and ended up in a crouch, blue sparks leaping around his fists ready to fight.

Ebon rolled over onto his back and jumped to his feet, smirking at Static. "Sup hero."

Static looked Ebon over.

"What, see something you like?" Ebon leered, doing a full turn.

"Uck." Static groaned in disgust. "Don't be a creep." Static's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "You don't have the money."

Ebon's smirk grew wider.

"But Shiv and Talon didn't have it either." Static blurted. "We know you took money, we have the security tapes. A backpack full."

"Sounds like you've got a real puzzler there Hero but you'll have to solve it without me." Ebon's lower half swirled into a black and purple vortex behind him and the shadowmaster was sucked into it, leaving Static standing by himself in the street.

"Argh dammit!" Static shouted he reached into his pocket and moved to hurl his shock vox at the wall of the nearest building, then reconsidered and pressed the talk button instead.

"Rich, Ebon's gone and he didn't have the money."

Static heard Gear's laughter over the walkie-talkie. "Take a deep breath V, I can tell how mad you are from twenty blocks away."

Static breathed in and out a few times and grinned. "Okay, much better. Now what?"

"Well that money's somewhere." Gear rationalized. The two superheroes were quiet for a moment.

Static broke the quiet first. "You know Hotstreak's been hanging around with the Breed since spring and I didn't see him today."

"He wasn't on the tapes." Gear agreed. "You don't think the Breed actually got smart and passed the money onto a guy who didn't go in the bank to be identified and could easily blend in with normal citizens do you?"

"Seems ridiculous but at this point…I'll take it. Let's go scour the city for a generic looking teenager wearing a backpack and probably a hat of some sort."

Gear laughed again. "Because that doesn't describe every teenager in the city."

Author's Note:

I was suffering from Hotstreak withdrawal so here's this. It'll probably have three chapters so look for updates, probably soonish. This is not a yaoi fic. It's just Static seems to look at Francis as a dumb thug and that's about it. We saw in No Man's an Island how Francis was a sick kid and Static looked at him a little differently, yeah well, now he's going to experience that sickness first hand and it changes his perspective of our favorite pyro. Sorry it's so short, the coming chapters will probably be longer.

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