There was three things that Francis Stone, also know as "Hotstreak", hated above anything else. Those were hospitals, doctors, and Richie Foley. So why in the hell was he in a hospital, being treated by doctors, with the Foley kid dozing off in the corner?

It had all begin several hours prior. Hotstreak had gotten into yet ANOTHER blowout with Ebon on how to dispose of Static and his new sidekick Gear. "Why don't we just tie them up and torch the fuckers?" Francis had argued.

Ebon had countered with the fact that they had tried the same thing last month when they had managed to captured Gear in an attempt to get Static to come running, or flying in most cases, to the rescue. Francis had called him a no brained asshole and Ebon retaliated with calling Francis a hot headed flamer. Of course after that it escalated from words to something physical, and it ended with Ebon kicking Hotstreak out of his group and promptly throwing him out a four story window. He had survived the fall but barely. Of course who had just been happening to walking down the alleyway that he had landed in? None other then Richie Foley, Dakota Union High Schools number one nerd and the number one of Francis Stones torture list. The Foley kid had noticed Francis lying in the garbage strewed alleyway and decided to help, which to Francis Stone was quite confusing. Why would Richie Foley help the guy who had been bullying him since grade school? As Francis faded in and out of conciseness Foley had somehow managed to pick him up bring him to hospital.

Finally the doctor left, a small favor that Francis was thankful for. Even after the doctor had given him pain medication Francis was still in pain. Through listening to hushed conversations between the doctor and his nurses Francis learned that his right leg, right hand, and a few ribs were all broken. "Just great." Francis groaned. He closed his eyes and laid his head back onto the pillow, his mind a complete blank. That was until he heard a small voice say his name. "Hey you there Francis?"

Francis turned his head and opened his eyes. Foley had woken up and was staring at him, a worried expression on his face that Francis did not like. "Its Hotstreak Foley not Francis." Francis said plainly.

Foley blinked for a moment and then countered with; "Well if you going to want me to call you "Hotstreak" Francis," Richie dragged out his name for the pure pleasure of annoying Francis. ", then I expect you to call me Richie instead of Foley."

Francis snorted which caused him to cringe. "Fat chance Foley. You have a better chance of me wearing a pink dress then calling you anything but Foley."

Richie frowned. "Well it is the least you could do for me since I saved your sorry ass."

Francis could feel his left hand clutch at the bed sheets. He could also feel his temperature rising and the urge to burn was getting greater. It occurred to Francis that burning the bed he was laying in was not the best idea. But still, to be saved was bad enough for Francis's, or rather Hotstreak's, street reputation. To be saved by a kid he bullied was worse.

Francis was thinking of a many different ways to threaten Richie not to tell anyone he had save him when Richie turned away and walked to the door muttering a quick good bye a get well.

"Hey Fo- Err Richie," Francis started. The younger blonde stopped and turned, his light blue eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Oh my god he so did not just call me…" Richie thought. "Yea…Hotstreak?" Richie asked quietly. "Uh…thanks for saving my ass….I uh….appreciate it." Francis muttered through clenched teeth. Richie blushed lightly- "Why in the hell is this kid blushing?" - and smiled.

"Your welcome Hotstreak. It was the…uh…least I could do." Richie rubbed his arm nervously. A conversation with Francis that did not involve punching or kicking was unnatural.

Richie was thankful when Virgil popped his head through the door.

"Yo Richie want to go get some-" Virgil looked to a disgruntle Francis. "Oh hey Francis." Virgil said, blank faced. He turned back to Richie. "You want to go get some burgers at the mall?" Richie looked quickly from Francis to Virgil.

"Uh yea sure bro, lets go." Virgil left and Richie turned to Francis. "Uh…see ya later." With that Richie left.

"Yea see you Richie…" Francis muttered. His grip on the sheets had slackened. Like Richie, Francis was glad for Virgil's sudden appearance. He felt, once again like Richie, that talking to Foley without any punching or kicking was just plain weird. Although Virgil's less then friendly attitude had not exactly pleased Francis. Of course what was one to expect from a kid he bullied frequently?

Francis laid his head back down unto the pillow and quickly drifted off into an unsettled sleep. There was Richie again, helping him up to his feet and attempting to drag him. Richie stopped, laid him down gently, and spoke into a box, then everything in the world went black. There were voices he could not make out. They obviously arguing over something, over him. They world regained color but it was blurry, a bright flash of yellow and brown. The world went dark again. More heated voices. He was being picked up again, the dingy light brown and red buildings coming in and out of view. There was a new sensation. It felt like floating. More flashes of yellow and brown, duller this time. Then there was a black lighting bolt and then white. A single heated voice, directed at him. Dull shades of blue and white attacked him and made his head hurt. The world went dark again. He saw a bright red cross. The world went dark yet again. The smell of cleaning products and the sounds of many voices. Francis Stone dreamt on and on into the night and well into the morning of the next day.