Fly Home Buddy
by Freddy K
Disclaimer: I do not own the Incredibles, they belong to Bard Bird and Disney/Pixar.
Author's Note: This was written based on my own personal account...numerous personal accounts. I came to write this directly after one of my less pleasant experiences. Yes, I am using my own pain as a tool to help me write. I'm a writer, that's what I do. I hope this conveys some of the pain I felt, as that's what I'm trying to show here. I reasoned...well in the movie,. Buddy looked pretty torn and disturbed-very reminiscent of how a child looks after they've been physically or mentally hurt. It jogged some memories, and thus I resolved to write.
Oddly enough, in the beginning, when I was set on writing "Buddy's return home" it was intended to be humorous, but after an "event" I realized that that was not the approach anyone with half a brain would take. Basically, I wanted to explore what made him tick and what contributed to his...err...madness, and that required a very realistic explanation.
There was silence in the backseat of the police car, except that if you listened closely, you could here the rapid breathing of Buddy Pine, as fear rose in his throat. The realization that his life was about to become a living hell was beginning to dawn on him. He couldn't bring himself to look out the window as the police care made the drive toward his house, and he felt sick.
Please daddy don't be home...please God, please, please don't let daddy be home, please, please...He had turned to beg for whatever mercy that could possibly be given to him. He had nothing but feverish hope. Nothing. And even that was scarce. He knew his fate was inevitable.
"That was a pretty stupid thing to do, kid." A baritone voice barked, jerking him out of his thoughts. Buddy looked up at the back of the police man's head, still waiting for a response from the 11 year old. When none came, the officer shifted in his seat and planted an eye on his victim.
"Well? What the hell were you thinking?"
Buddy looked back, his face screwed up in shame and embarrassment. After a moment he broke the gaze and sighed.
"I wanted to be...his partner." He mumbled, swallowing. The officer shook his head.
"Well grow up." He snapped, and turned back to the road. "What the hell's the matter with you? Supers have better things to do than to look after idiotic fans. You could have been killed."
No answer.
"How the hell did you get up there anyway? Break in?" The officer asked, and his voice rose.
"No," Buddy said, " I flew."
"You what?"
"I flew. With my rocket boots." And he fingered the buckle on his left ankle. The police officer twisted around at the next red light and peered down at Buddy's shoes.
"Where'd you get those?" He demanded. Buddy perked momentarily, more than eager to show off his brilliance.
"I invented them!" he said. To his dismay the officer laughed at him.
"Sure kid, sure. With all the new gadgets nowadays, not unlikely that there in your nearest toy store."
Buddy's face grew suddenly hot . "I did!" he said earnestly, pounding a fist on his knee. "All by myself, no on even help me!" But the officer only scoffed.
Buddy folded his arms and hunched over in the seat, staring down at his rocket boots and the wave of nausea came over him again. Idiotic fan. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to drown out everything around him, but could only shiver in his cold sweat.
Please don't let Daddy be home from work yet..."Get over here!"
His son shook his head and backed up. "Get. Over. Here. Fuckin' Goddamn son of a bitch!"
He came like a train. Buddy felt he couldn't move, and his cry was caught in his throat.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He screamed, but it was too late.
His gripped his son's wrist firmly and shook him.
"I'll break your arms off! I'll break your fucking arms off!" His voice was graveled with rage.
Buddy's mom yelled for him to stop.
"Jon stop! Stop it! Just talk to him-"
"I'll do whatever the fuck I want! Don't tell me what to do!" Buddy's father screamed, turning to his wife who was too afraid to intervene.
"Momma! Mom-"
Slap!
The boy choked out a scream as his father gripped him by the shoulder and hit him again, across the back.
"Don't you EVER do that again!"He bellowed, and the pelts came quicker and harder. "I'll break my fucking hand across your back-don't you ever-"
"Daddy stop, Please! I'm sorry!" Tears poured forth, but he was silenced by the hand that struck his leg and sent him sprawling on the ground.
Before he had a chance to push himself up, he was yanked up by his cape and hauled to his feet.
"Get in your room," His father pushed him, and he tripped. "Get in your goddamn room!" And Buddy ran, crawled to his bedroom door, opened it and ran for his bed. "That'll teach you to go prancing around the fucking city in that outfit! Let's see your stupid idol save you now! Huh! Want him to save you, Buddy?" And Jon wiped the spit from his mouth, and jealousy raged through him. How dare that son of a bitch cause his son to...
"Don't say that!" Buddy cried, clenching his hands into fists, angry and afraid.
"I'll say whatever I damn well please! He doesn't give a damn about you! You're not his kid-you're my kid! You can't count on him, Buddy!" Jon seethed in the doorway, breathing hard and pointed at his son. "You can't count on anyone-especially your heroes!"
"That's not true!" Buddy screamed, but his cries were lost in his father's rage.
"Shut up! Don't you think of coming out! If I hear one more word out of your mouth, I'll beat you so hard...!"
His door slammed, and shook in it's frame. There was silence throughout the house, aside from a distant sobbing. His mother.
Numbness overtook him and he didn't notice that he had started shaking. It was past Ten o' clock now. He'd been out at Seven. Should have gone home. Never should of...
He looked up, blurry eyed at his wall, felt his dried tears on his cheeks and rubbed them off with the backs of his hands. There the poster of his hero, Mr. Incredible grinned down on him. Mocking him. Mocking...
Buddy swung his leg over the side of his bed, limping a little where he'd been hit and went over to his wall, touching the picture tentatively with one hand.
'Fly Home Buddy.' Buddy clenched his teeth and shut his eyes. "No..."
'I work alone.'
"No..." He drew his hand away.
'You're not affiliated with me.'
His eyes burned and he opened them to glare up at Mr. Incredible. He'd been rejected. All he'd wanted was to help. To help him. But...
Before he had time to think about it, Buddy grabbed the edges of the poster, gripped it and threw it down. It crashed into the lamp on his dresser and sent it to the floor, where it burnt out. He was left alone in darkness, but didn't bother to turn on the light.
He felt better.
Please review - Comments always appreciated.