Neighbors
A Despicable Me fanfic
Fred McDade has a rare symbiotic encounter with his next door neighbor. Events are set just before DM2. Because this one is short, I've bothered to phonetically spell out Gru's accent. Rated T for some violence and exotic language.
Fred shook himself awake at the sound. It was loud and hard, like a window being forced open. He didn't hear any breaking glass, but an ominous 'tink' and some creaking rang out. He looked at his nightstand clock; 1:30 am. It took a second or two for him to remember that his dog Ripley was being held overnight at the animal hospital for a particularly nasty mystery bite on his side. It took a few more seconds to also remember that he didn't keep any weapons near his bed, that he had the ground line in the other room (so it didn't wake him up), and that his cel was in that same room a charger.
Oh, and I've never had an alarm system installed, he added to himself with a shiver. Predatory footsteps and hushed voices began to echo outside of his room. Two very undignified strategies popped into his mind. One was to hide under the covers like a scared nursery school girl until the burglars got what they wanted and left. The other was to bolt out of the house screaming out into the street. Of course, neither of these were good ideas if a. the invaders decided to enter his room and b. if his flight strategy had him collide with one of them.
His thoughts were drawing a distressing blank, but he decided not to panic. Not yet. With a shaky hand he picked up his wire frame glasses and slipped them over his nose. The room was still quite dark, and he wasn't about to turn on a light, but the specs made him feel slightly less vulnerable. He tip toed over to the threshold to listen. There was some thrashing around of furniture drawers, and their contents being thrown to the floor. There were two agitated voices muttering away as they tried to quickly pick through their plundering; voices that were coming up the hallway that led to his bedroom.
Fred forced down the lump in his dry throat and tried to calm his heart out of overdrive. The knob of his door didn't have a lock, so he leaned his weight against it as quietly as he could. His breathing was getting louder, and his shaking was threatening to vibrate the door. Don't come this way, don't come this way, Fred pleaded silently. Just leave. Part of him wanted to be a little more impressive, to storm out into the hall and confront his assailants with his fists, but the rest of him was not up for getting shot, or stabbed, or bludgeoned, or whatever the hell else they were capable of. Manliness had to take a backseat to self preservation.
The vibrations of two feet stopped just in front of his door. Fred felt ridiculous at still hoping they would turn back, he was sure he was about to choke on his own heart. His entire body numbed at the sickening sensation of the door knob turning just beside his weight. He held his breath and tried to lean in more. This only alerted the two on the other side, as this pushed the door into the notch of the frame. The following stunned silence made Fred hopeful again. Maybe they didn't want to find out how many people were in here, or what nonexistent defenses they had. He was starting to exhale when the door shook with a violent impact.
He screamed and pressed his weight even harder. Suddenly it dawned on him that he just gave himself away, there was no one else with him to do their own squeals of distress. "We got a live one, Lou!" a rough voice shouted darkly from the other side.
"Get 'im!" the other voice roared. The two bodies rammed the panel again and it momentarily gave, Fred gasped as he shoved it back against the threshold. The barrage started all over again, only with more thrust from the opposite side. Fred was quicker to push the door back this time.
"No,no,no,no,no!" he yelled as they continued throwing themselves into the wood. He could hear the hinges crack and felt the weight of the door pop loose from them. The only thing he had now separating him and the impending world of shit was the wood panel itself and his own bulk. He was so exhausted by his own fear that he wondered if he should keep fighting them or give in and get this horrible incident over with. A sudden loud, mechanical and otherworldly sound interrupted his contemplative resignation. There was also a flash of blue-green light that felt as cold as it looked. The battering on the other side of his broken door had suddenly paused. No, it had outright ceased, there was no breathing, scratching or talking to be heard, like his attackers had been spirited away.
Fred leaned the door back into the frame and slumped down to the floor to get his breath and thoughts back. He wasn't even sure if it was safe to do so, but he reached up and flicked the switch beside the threshold anyway. He squinted at the sudden light, but quickly recovered enough to get back on his feet. He listened again; it wasn't completely quiet, there were still footfalls out there. Two had short, rapid steps like toddler feet. A third sounded like an adult, but lacked the violent ruthlessness of the pair from before. The steps were slow and contemplative, but they rang with a certain confidence.
These individuals seemed to have no interest in rushing at him, and he figured it was pretty obvious to them that he was behind the wrecked door. With his still shaky hands he pulled his last defense away from the frame and stepped out in to the hall. He jumped at the sight of two glassy masses that were blocking his view. He felt the cool air wafting off them and realized they were actually ice. He peered into the sculpture like forms with confusion until he jumped again, at a terrified eye that was gazing back into his. "Wha-whaaat?" he tried to put together what he was seeing, and stepped between the two forms nervously.
The backlighting from his room wasn't making his foray into the dark hall much easier, so Fred yelped again when he collided with something tall and barrel-chested. The towering form regarded him non-chalantly and reached out for its own light switch. Fred's eyes had to adjust again. "Guh-Gru?!" he exclaimed with a mix of apprehension and relief.
"Hello, Fred," the bald man's cold eyes rolled over him with concern and annoyance. "Seems you've had a leetle reef-raff encounter." Like Fred, he was still in his pajamas, but he was also wearing his trademark over coat and scarf, the outfit was completed by a pair of white plushie unicorn house slippers.
"How, how did you know I was in trouble?" Fred had to ask. If he knew anything about his neighbor, it was that he wasn't one for midnight oil, especially with those three kids that started living around there in the past year.
"My….co-zin Jerry," Gru gestured over his shoulder at a tiny figure that just trotted across the hall in back of him. "He gets leetle late munchie attacks. I don't like heez habit myself," he momentarily glared in the little fellow's direction. "bot he was comink back frum dat store op town and spotted dose guys creepink around out back. Say whatcha want 'bout heem, he's got good eensteencts, he woke me up over eet."
"Uh,…thanks…Jerry?" Fred timidly called out over Gru.
"Za'rite," a tiny voice called back from the dark.
"Anyway, looks like a couple ov amateurs, all dey had to do was look in de garage to know someone was home," Gru shrugged tiredly as his bagged eyes rolled over the carnage. "Where's dat dog of yours, anyway?"
"Vet," Fred folded his hands in front sadly.
"Ah," Gru noted, but shrunk back slightly as if he had made some guilty realization. "Yoo know, Fred, not to slam yoo or any'ting, but yor security here socks."
"Yeah," Fred looked to floor, feeling more than a little vulnerable, inadequate and embarrassed.
"As a keed I heard Americans bleat all de time about 'a man's home eez heez castle' crap. Seriously, get some fortification een here, Fred. Jerry can't spot 'em all."
"Point taken," the other man agreed dejectedly.
"Anyhoo," Gru continued, "you've got a mess to clean op, so let oss leave yoo weeth-"
"Clean up?" Fred queried nervously. "Shouldn't we call the police first?"
Gru craned his head to the ceiling and let out a loud, humorless laugh. "Dat's real cute, Fred," he glared ominously. Something was protruding under his coat that was shaped a lot like a large gun. "Maybe yoo should also stab yoorself in da head," he added with a wicked sneer, which got a slight shudder out of his neighbor. "Bot," he turned away slowly, back toward the state of the scene, "we should at least take out da trash for yoo."
He paused broodingly before shouting out; "Jerry! Kevin! Front and saynter, boys, chop chop!" The two stubby legged figures trotted back into the hall, their faces were obscured by large drooping hats which almost hid their yellow complexions. They each produced a large, menacing pair of metal prongs that they clawed into the sweating ice forms with. Despite their diminutive size, they seemed to have little trouble lowering the semi transparent monoliths to the floor before dragging them away lengthwise. A few grunts here were their only signs of strain. The ice itself was gouging into Fred's hardwood paneling but he was not about to protest. Gru followed them out slowly, his arms were folded behind his back as usual.
As he was about to step out of Fred's line of vision as he stopped abruptly and slowly turned back around. His eye contact was curiously non-threatening. "My youngest, Agnes eez havink a beeg borfday party next month," he announced softly. "We're steel making eenveetations, bot if yor cheeldren are veesiting yoo den, we'd like yoo all to come over. Agnes gets along wit' dem well eenoff."
"Uhhhm," Fred wasn't sure if he was hearing this correctly.
Gru seemed to sense his disorientation and smirked in kind. "Eet's a theme party, medieval dressop," he added with an index finger. "De adults don't need to, bot I can arrange for de keed's costumes. Presents are encouraged, odderwise jost breeng yourselves." He folded his arms back behind him before gesturing with his head. "Yoo better take care of dat window now, dat draft eez comink een here preety hard." As he finally walked out, he bid Fred a sharp "Gudnite."
As Gru had noted, Fred felt the cold night air working its way toward him. His frazzled nerves and over stimulated senses pushed him into a dissociative, catatonic haze. The hapless man feebly tried to regain some of his presence, and as if his visitors were still there, called out into the emptiness of his house. "Uhm, yeah….okay... " he wrung his hands as he whimpered.