Buddy Pine woke up in the branches of his namesake. He was burned, his hair, his flesh. He was in pain. It was a relief when it started to rain. He struggled a little, to get down, perhaps, or just to see if he could still move. He could, but the pain of shattered limbs was incredible. Incredible! He laughed hysterically, and the sound scared him a little. There was an ominous creak, and the branch that supported his weight began to bend. It cracked, and he fell, screaming, the five feet to the ground. He passed out from the pain.
Later, his eyes opened. There were blurry shapes... colours shifting. A face? White hair. Oh, relief, such relief.
"Mirage..?" he murmured. "Tha' you..? Oh, thank God."
"It's me. I'm here. Don't try to move."
Mirage surveyed the damage. She felt horrified. This is all my fault. said one voice. He deserved it! said another. He deserves all he gets!
She crouched down. He was looking up at her through bleary, unfocussed eyes. His mask was gone. His face was burned. His poor, fair, freckled skin...
She shook her head and stroked his face. He looked so pathetically grateful to see her. She unzipped the black bag that lay on the ground beside her and took out a syringe, a clean needle and a small vial.
"Stay still." she said, preparing the shot. "This will help with the pain. You'll feel a little woozy for a while, but looking at you, that'll be no big change." She smiled thinly at him. He smiled back, and winced a little.
"My face..." he whispered. "Burned. Hurts..." She tried not to, but her heart felt that. He was in pain, and all her intellectualising couldn't stop her from feeling it.
"I know. This will help, I promise." She slipped the needle into a vein through a patch of unburned skin on the arm that wasn't twisted under him. He yelped as it pierced him, and she was surprised that he could even feel it on top of everything else. She drained the syringe and withdrew it, and a drop of blood welled up on his ivory skin.
"There. Now just relax." She said. She looked down at him. He was pathetic. She knew that. She felt sick at all the things he had done and all the things she had done in his name, believing that it was for something. What could she ever have meant to him, this child-man she now clearly?
Slowly the pained expression was slipping from his features. He sighed.
"Ohh...thas better..." he slurred.
"Good. I'm going to use this" she said, holding up one of his energy cuffs "to move you. The stuff I gave you should have dulled the pain, but you might still feel it while I get you into the car."
"Oooookaaaaay..." he said in a sing-song voice. "I'll be brave...I'm Syndrome!" he said, sounding like a drunk at the end of an evening of whiskey.
"Yes, that's right." she replied soothingly. She stood up and pointed the cuff at him. She pressed the button and he was engulfed in crackling blue light. The rain sizzled off it in little hisses of steam.
"Whee... never been on the receivin' end... s'fun." he mumbled as she lifted him into the air. "I can fly! I'm Incrediboy!"
You've got that right. Thought Mirage. You never grew beyond that stage, and I was a fool to think you had.
She transferred him carefully a few feet above the ground, and slowly maneouvered him through the open door of the hired car, till he was lying on the back seat. She switched off the beam, and he yelped as his shattered bones were once again gripped by gravity.
"Ow, M'rage! That hurt." he said in a shocked voice. She didn't reply. She closed the door, then got silently into the driver's seat. She sat staring straight ahead for a moment. Buddy was mumbling to himself in a way that suggested he would soon be asleep. Part of her was glad he was resting and not having to feel the grinding pain of shattered bones, but that little spiteful voice was urging her to tun around and shake him, let him feel every break and burn and lesion. The same voice that had urged her to ignore the beeping that suggested his tracking device was intact, either that or turn up with a gun to dispatch the miserable bastard if she even found him alive.
Something else had made her leave the gun at home.
She started the car.
"Where we goin'?" piped up Buddy from the back seat. He was hardly as sleepy as he'd sounded, then.
"My place. You'll be able to rest there for a while; Nomanisan is locked down and under surveillance."
"You got a place? Didn' know that. Is it nice? Got...like, roses round the door? Ahahahahaha."
He was rambling. She didn't reply. She turned left and drove down a quiet road lined with trees. There was silence for a while, and she thought maybe he had passed out. Not so.
"I love you, Mirage." Her heart gave a wrench. You have no idea how much I've wanted to believe that, Buddy. No idea! she thought, but didn't say.
"I know you're mad at me for what happened... but I knew he wouldn' do it... weak... I had it aaaaall unner control!" he said in a cocky tone of voice somewhat marred by being slurred and drowsy. He paused, and then said in a humbler tone of voice:
"I'm so glad you came for me. Thought I was gonna die... wanted to die."
God, but she couldn't help but want to believe it. It was what she'd always wanted to hear. He doesn't mean it! the voice said. You know what he is now. No amount of wishful thinking will change it.
A tear ran down her cheek.
"I know, Buddy." she said. He's a child! screamed the voice. "I love you too."
They drove on in silence, and presently he fell asleep.
Author's Note: I myself am not entirely sure about the Mirage/Syndrome pairing, though it does give us one reason why Mirage would be working for him in the first place. To me it almost seems too easy though, somehow. Oh well, I wanted to write from the point of view of the pairing, and I think I managed it quite well! Phew, it's always a bit nerve-wracking writing from the depths of brand-new fangirlishness. Hope you enjoyed it, now go review!