A/N: I am truly sorry about the lateness of this chapter upload. I lost my muse for a while and then life got in the way of writing. Good news is I'm settled into my new job and making a good impression. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Chapter 3 will see some real action. Stay tuned!
My feet slam into the padded floor, pushing off hard towards the next obstacle in the course. My lungs burn, muscles beginning to ache as I press myself through a crawl tunnel. By the time I reach the end of the course, I am wheezy and weak. I hear the distant 'click' of the stopwatch. I look up at Mirage, squinting against the sweat sticking my hair to my face. She looks disappointed.
"You're too slow Violet."
"We can't all be Dash..." I mumble, trying to regulate my rough panting. I brace my hands on my knees. I am certainly out of shape. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, irritated by her ridiculous expectations.
"If you were half as fast as your brother, I wouldn't have to worry about you getting shot." I should have known she would hear me.
"Since when am I getting shot at?" I strike an argumentative pose, hands on narrow hips. I seem to have struck a nerve; she flushes red. I press on. "I've been shot st before you know? By goons. Remember?" I throw my hands forward. My forcefield is large; semi-transparent, rippling barrier. "Take a shot Mirage. You won't hit me."
"You got lucky Violet. I watched the footage. Dashiell saved yoir life when that guard found you in the water." She glares at me. "Now run it again." I groan, releasing the field and jogging back to the start of the obstacle course. She likes watching, so I'll give her a show.
I explode from the start; jumping hard over the first low wall, vaulting over the second. My sudden need to impress her gives me energy: the adrenaline is kicking in. I feel alive. The next obstacle is a rope wall. I launch myself into the net of ropes, my feet finding solid purchases instead of snarling, trapping cables. I scramble to the top, snag the waiting zipline and leap from the scaffold. The rush is intense. I try not to hollar.
I hit the mat and roll forward, mounting a stair set and sliding down the next ramp into the crawl tunnel. I emerge and vault the next wall. The last obstacle looms ahead: a large mud pit with a single rope to bridge it. I line myself up for the jump, sprinting harder than I ever have in my life. My lungs burn. My fingers clasp around the rope.
-snap-
One second I am swinging forward, the next I am flat on my back in the mud. I gasp, winded, unable to catch my breath. I start panicking when I can't breathe. My chest quakes in an effort to draw air into startled lungs. The next thing I see is Mirage, kneeling beside me.
How did she get over here so fast?
Worry floods her face when she realizes what is happening. Her hands clench and unclench, hesitating. I can't speak. I try to lift an arm to her; I need her to help me. She bends over my face, placing her lips over mine. My eyes go wide, shocked. A hard puff of air forces its way into my lungs. She leans back to check, but I am still breathless.
"Dammit Violet! Breathe!" She does it again and my lungs start working. I cough, spluttering and choking but breathing. Little spots dance across my vision. She gives a manic laugh of relief. My body hurts to much to join her. Mirage helps me to sit.
"I can take a break now?" I groan, placing a long fingered hand over my chest. She chuckles quietly, scraping the mud off my back with a gentle hand. I notice her own clothes are splotched and streaked with black, wet mud. She is wearing dark grey but her shoes are white. A flash of guilt hits me; they're ruined.
"Of course you can." Her fingers reach my neck, gentle pressure squeezing. I assume she is checking for damage. I can't stop the shiver that wracks my body when she brushes the mud from my hair. She pulls her hand away, believing she has hurt me. "I am sorry Violet. I shouldn't have been so hard on you."
"I shouldn't have been trying to show off." She helps me to my feet.
"At least you learned something." She laughs again. My heart melts. She's so beautiful.
"That you might be a good kisser?" I don't know why I said it. Maybe it was the shock. Maybe it was how she'd looked at me when I couldn't breathe. She pales and looks away, lips tight.
"Do you need help to your room?" Her response is clipped. I shake my head and mentally kick myself for the comment. She thinks no more of me than any other girl half her age. Now she probably thinks I'm creepy. I try to leave alone, but she notices my unsteady steps and links her arm with mine to support me. I blush, my head swimming.
"Thanks. So...what did I learn?" I want to break the tension. I shouldn't tease her like that. She doesn't know I know about her. That's not why I came here...at least thats what I tell myself. I steal quick glances at her. She seems to have calmed down, the color returning to her face.
"There are variables you can't account for. You have to be ready for anything."
"Why do you care so much? You aren't this hard on Dash...even less on Petra." I look towards her but she keeps her eyes away. "Why are you being so weird to me?" I stop walking, forcing her to stop or drag me.
"I'm not..." Still she faces away.
"You are!" I jerk my hand away from her, balling them at my side. "All that worry and 'rescue the damsel' back there and now you won't even look at me. What gives?"
I cross my arms, wincing as the stretch hurts my back. She looks at the floor, at her ruined shoes. I huff.
"Look if this is about the 'good kisser' thing, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that I was just trying to make you laugh." Lie. She flexes her hands a few times.
"I made a promise..." She looks me in the eye and my body runs cold. "Let's just leave it there." I am over her cryptic attitude.
"To who?" I know the answer as soon as I ask.
"Helen...your mom. I contacted her as soon as your names came up in the roster. I tried to pick someone else but the new Director was insistant on you and Dash. I had a feeling you wouldn't tell her where you were really going..."
"So you ratted me out?"
"Violet this mission could be very dangerous. She asked me to keep you both safe." I am bitter that she took it upon herself to contact my mother. I wonder how long they were talking before this. I never forgot that day in the kitchen. How could I?
"Well we both know you'd do anything for her." I spit the words out before I think about it. Not only did I betray my knowledge, I somehow manage to sound jealous about it. Her tan face goes white as if I have confirmed years long suspicion. I'm sure she's thought about it a lot. How could she not? She knew I was there.
"You don't know what you're talking about. I don't care what you think you saw." Her response is quiet, threatening. I let it drop; them was none of my business anyway. I wasn't supposed to see. I wasn't supposed to change, but I did.
I throw my hands up and push past her towards my room. I am more hurt to know she really didn't want me here.
I only came to see her.
The truth of it rings in my head like a mocking bell. I see my crush for what it is. I throw open the door to my room, slamming it shut. My body hurts.
I fall back onto the mattress, whimpering. Tears prickle the corners of my eyes. I fight them, I dont want to cry. My breathing is still a bit rattly and wheezy. Unbidden the sensation of her mouth on mine...her breath expanding my lungs floods me. I whimper again and press my hands to my eyelids.
I want to be mad at her for it but it's not her fault. She doesnt know how I feel. I resolve to bury it. I need to focus on the mission. Then I can go back to being Violet Parr: bookworm. Fatigue washes over me; already my back is getting stiff. I let myself drift off.
. . .
I open my eyes, sticky with sleep. I sit up carefully, a minor pain slowing my progress. I don't know how long I've been asleep. I notice there is a sandwich on the end table, a small, folded piece of paper under the edge of the plate. I take it, expecting it to be from Mirage.
'I heard you fell today during your training session. Come see me if you aren't hurt too bad. - Dash P.S. It's HAM!'
I smile and set the note aside. My stomach rumbles so I devour the sandwich, trusting that, for once, it was just a ham sandwich. My malaise has passed with the dreamless sleep of the wounded.
I head toward Dash's room. I look around the cavern, surprised at the change from day to night. The artificial sun has changed to a soft blue-white moonlight. I catch a glimmer of silver from a rock spar jutting out over the tree canopy. It seems to me a terrifying place to sit, but she is up there. I look away and continue to Dash's room. I knock three times. It takes him half a second to answer it. I know, I've clocked him.
"Hey Dash." I yelp as he scoops me up, my light frame nothing to his broad shoulders, zipping me over to the couch. I wretch when he sets me down. I hate when he does that. I tell him as much. He responds with a childish smile.
"So I bet by now you're downing on yourself, thinking about leaving and being a sorry whiner right?" i open my mouth to retort, then snap it shut in a pout. He sits beside me, curling his arm around me and drawing me close.
"I messed up Dash." I keep quiet, leaning into his side. He squeezes me tight.
"You didn't fall on purpose Violet."
"Not that." I sniff loudly. "You know that day, when Mom..." He nodded. We didn't talk about it much. "Well I brought it up. It just kinda slipped out. She told Mom we are here. She didn't pick us for this Dash."
"Well, we are here now. What are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know. I can't exactly fight like you guys can." I remember watching Petra obliterate a training dummy with a stone fist the size of her head just the day before.
"Violet you're thinking about this wrong. You're focused on defense, invisibility and forcefields. What can you do with that offensively?"
"I don't..." He taps my head.
"All that time at your library school and you didn't learn anything. Look, make a forcefield maybe the size of a basketball."
"Around what?"
"Nothing, just make one in the air." I grumble at him but do as he asks, the orb glittering to life in my hands. "What have you done with these before?"
"I dunno, stop bullets I guess."
"Exactly." I wrinkle my nose at him, brows scrunched in confusion. He sighs, exaggerated drooping of his shoulders. "Physics, Vi. Come on."
"I don't see what that has to do with...OW! Dash!" He digs his knuckles into my head. I swing my hand to get back at him. I miss but the orb follows the path of my hand, striking him solidly in the cheek and knocking him down.
"Shit! Dash are you okay?" He beams up at me, giving me a thumbs up. I look at my orb, realizing what he has shown me.
"Violet, your forcefields can withstand heavy machine gun fire at close range. The question isn't 'what can you stop.'"
"It's 'what can stop me.'" I finish his thought for him. He spits out a molar, his lip bloodied from the hit. I am touched that he is willing to lose a tooth for me. I laugh at his crimson smile.
"Go to bed Vi. Mirage says she has a field assignment for us tomorrow. She says you don't have to come if you're still injured. She seems really concerned about you." I roll my eyes at the suggestion.
"Only for Mom's sake Dash." I shuffle to the door, shoulders square. I'm not going to act likd a child who didn't get what she wants. I have a lot to think about.
"Good night Violet. Main training room. 10 A.M." He gives a giant yawn. I leave his room with a new spring in my step. I am not tired after my nap. I head to the ancilliary training room: the one with the dummies.
My eyes wander to the rock spar. She is still there, long tan legs dangling over the edge. I wonder if she sees me down here. I enter the room, creeped out by the silence and the darkness that hides the dummies. I click on a single bank of lights, select a straw victim and wheel it to the center of the room.
I regard it seriously, creating my orb and letting it hang in front of me. I feel a little silly and the forcefield flickers, threatening to die, I let the feeling go. This isn't stupid. I grit my teeth and push the ball forward. I lift my hand up, raising the orb. I snap my arm down like a whip, crashing the orb into straw. The dummy exploded under the pressure of so much force. A delightfully wicked smile splits my face. I clench my hands into fists. Time to see what I can really do.
. . .
I rub my eyes sleepily, yawning hugely and covering my mouth with the back of my hand. I am the last one to show up besides Mirage; I fell into my bed sometime around 3, sweaty and renewed, baptized in the remains of so many practice dummies. Petra gives me a shy smile. I wave at her and give Dash a grateful embrace. He's the best little brother.
The sound of clicking heels draws my attention. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my resolve. I want to keep our relationship professional. It wont do to have my drooling and fawning over her like a cat in...well you know. She is making it hard. Red pencil skirt, tight white blouse and thin frame glasses I've never seen before. I feel but don't see the light shove Dash gives me. I wobble forward, losing my balance. My shoe laces are tied together. Mirage catches me in arms stronger than they look, dropping her files and scattering them across the floor. Our faces are a few inches apart. My mouth goes dry. I blush, hard. I wriggle out of her arms, a bit more roughly than I should have. I can still feel her breath on my cheek. I glare at Dash. He giggles quietly to himself. He is the worst little brother. I fix my laces while Petra helps Mirage gather her files.
"Your first assignment is fairly simple. It should give you a good opportunity to stretch your legs and utilize your training." She gives me the quickest, most surreptitious of glances. I can't breathe. "We have reason to believe the museum will be attacked tonight with the intent to steal several major artifacts." She passes out the folders in her hands.
There are photographs of five or six various things; none of the items seemes to coordinate with any of the others.
"Mandross was seen conversing with the head docent, posing as a master of restoration, claiming these items were in desperate need of repair. The docent grew suspicious and contacted local law enforcement. They in turn contacted us. They know what we are doing here."
"Couldn't Mandross simply ask for the artifacts?" I ask. "The museum would have to give them to him."
"If he asked for them, it would be likely to draw press attention. Its not every day an anonymous person comes to buy priceless artifacts. I believe this is why he posed as as restorer. A buyer would draw too much attention."
I turn the pages in the file. More pictures: a group of three young adults and individual headshots. There was a tall, broad-shouldered Spanish boy with short stiff spiky black hair and a cocky smirk plastered over his dark face. Another showed a pink and purple haired Caucasian girl dressed in frills and lace. Her makeup was as loud and brash as her hair. The final picture made me shiver. A shaved headed black girl stared up at me from the photograph, her face seemed to be cut from stone: high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Her plump lips seemed to quiver nearly a snarl. A feral glow burned in her dark eyes. She was dangerous.
"Who are they?" I ask, unable to tear my eyes from the last picture.
"Armand Solidad - Blackout, electrokinetic super registered at birth." She is standing at my shoulder, one slender arm draped into my file, fingertip just brushing the picture of the Spaniard. I fight the heat creeping in my neck.
"Wendy Hamill - Banshee, enhanced vocal manipulation. A sort of sonic boom. Registered at age 14." The multicolored mess. She turns the page, arriving at the final photograph. I feel her involuntary shiver.
"Sacha Arbis - no designation, unregistered." Her voice got quiet.
"You don't know anything about her?" I try not to sound scared but the hollowness of that girl's eyes is terrifying.
"The most we know is she's a habitual violent criminal. Shes been booked three times for gang related assault. It is suspected Mandross negotiated her early release some time ago. She is a rulebreaker and a natural rebel. If she has super potential, we don't know what it is." We all got quiet for a moment.
"What are we supposed to be doing?" Petra spoke for all of us.
"You will be bolstering security. We believe these individuals have been coerced into assisting Mandross. A team of protégés like yourself. It is highly likely that this is a training mission for his team as much as it is for you. It is highly possible these artifacts are the secondary objective. It is possible their promary objective will be to engage law enforcement. You will be providing recon and keep in radio contact with each other. I will have access to the channel as well to provide you with any relevant information for the duration of the mission."
"You said we get new outfits?" Dash broke the tension with his easy humor. Mirage gave him a fleeting smile.
"Indeed I did, I will show you the armory closer to your departure time. Until then," She looks at me and my heart thumps in overdrive. Her eyes say it: We need to talk. "Make sure you're ready and fit for duty. You will meet me back here at 1800 hours."
I fidget as overhear Dash invite Petra to the mess hall for chowder. My stomach growls loudly. I hear a smooth, quiet chuckle and see Mirage covering her mouth with her fingertips. She waves me over to her.
"Violet."
"Mirage." We start talking at the same time. She chuckles again. The sound makes my knees quake. Her voice is soft and rich, deep for a woman but better for it.
"I'm sorry for bringing up...you know, Mom. I shouldn't have." I want to apologize first. She draws her lips tight, a weary sigh following the droop of her elegant shoulders. I fiddle nervously with my earlobe.
"I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome here. I am quite glad you answered the call Violet." She is staring at me, not past me this time. She flushes the lightest pink. "Both of you."
I can't help the tiny smile. I can't wait to show her what I learned.
"Me too. So, fresh start then?" I hold out my hand to her, practically begging her to take it. She does, giving me the lightest squeeze. She lingers only just too long. She nods, brushing the silver curtain of hair from her beautiful pale green eyes.
"Fresh start." My stomach complains, loudly, spoiling the moment. She smiles and places a hand on my shoulder. "Go eat. Ill see you at 6 o'clock."