Parenthood Is…

A Synlet Fanfiction

Rating: T

Chapter Four: Loud

Violet had no rational reason to be angry at Jak Jak, but… But geez! Did he really have to be enjoying himself so much? Seriously, she had never ever thought that someone could enjoy imprisonment, but obviously her little brother had completed this impossible feat and was now playing happily with something she was almost positive could remove a limb.

"Give me that!" she snapped, removing the weapon from his hands, which immediately snapped open, nearly slicing her hand open with one of dozens of razorblades. She screamed and dropped it, kicking it far away and to the opposite wall. Jak Jak, unfazed, merely frowned at the lost toy and reached for another one.

"Dang it, Jak Jak, put those down!" But this new toy actually looked like a toy. It was a little stress ball and Jak Jak was having a fun time squeezing the heck out of it. Violet wondered which one of the soldiers had been the one to put it into the pile and silently thanked him.

Finally allowing herself to relax now that Jak Jak wasn't blowing brand new windows in the side of the jet, she closed her eyes and accepted the headache of stress that crept into the center of her forehead.

She hated being a prisoner. She had been one twice before and neither experience had been fun. This one however was completely different, although no less irritating. It wasn't dangerous, per say, but dammit! Syndrome wanted to corrupt her little brother and she had to help! What kind of twisted imprisonment was that? Really twisted, like licorice, but way worse!

And I hate licorice.

Violet watched her little brother chew on the ball with a glare, her thoughts barging on. Apparently they were flying over the Atlantic Ocean heading towards Britain. This fact alone made her stomach fall; her dad and the NSA wouldn't be able to come after them. The NSA was confined to the states and if they and their registered superheroes came after them, it would be a declaration of war.

Well, if they were able to get me out without touching or talking to anyone else, then maybe we could get out.

She frowned.

And then maybe a unicorn would fly us home to our pot of gold.

Ptoohy!

Violet looked up to see a slobbery chunk of the stress ball lying on the floor, Jak Jak staring at the empty space where the piece of ball had been. She rolled her eyes; that didn't last very long.

"I broke it," stated Jak Jak plainly, holding out the ball to her.

"I know you did," sighed Violet, removing the toy from his hands. "And now you don't have anything to play with."

"But-"

"Anything safe to play with."

Jak Jak pouted. "I'm bored!"

"Then you shouldn't have broken your toy," said Violet.

"I want another one." He began to stand up.

"No Jak Jak!" Violet reached out and grabbed hold of his arm. "Stay right here, young man. You are not going anywhere."

Jak Jak's face scrunched up; he was preparing to throw a fit. "Buddy said I could!"

Fantastic. Now he's got him calling him Buddy. Next thing it'll be Dad!

"Stay right here, or so help me-!"

"No!" Jak Jak thrashed. "I'm gonna tell on you!"

The guard heard the ruckus and pointed a gun at her head. "Let the boy go!" he commanded.

Violet froze and Jak Jak took the opportunity to tear himself away. He stood up and headed towards one of the two guards who blocked the doorless room that now served as Jak Jak's temporary room. Violet glared at the guards as they let her brother pass; Jak Jak was allowed out, but she had to stay. A quick glare from the lackey only solidified this unfortunate fact.

I do have to admit, thought Violet grudgingly, if I could get past them, I'd most likely bring this ship down.

Violet frowned and sat down on Jak Jak's makeshift bed- a simple cot- and slowly let herself accept the fact that she was indeed a prisoner. It wasn't an easy thing to stomach, especially since her captor was Syndrome. Just thinking of his name made her gag reflex raise its ugly head.

Stupid watermelon jerk with his fugly head.

It was more than just being a prisoner that made her irked. It was all the things that she had left behind. Her shattered house had most likely been investigated by Rick Dicker already, and her mom and dad had probably been contacted and told the situation. She had no idea where Kitty was, but she hoped that somebody had found him. He was far too lazy to live on his own in the wild. Tony was probably worried sick and poor Heather was crying her eyes out, wondering where her boyfriend/husband/nemesis was.

You know, I think I'd rather have my life be threatened right now. Without the danger of death, I have no choice but to think about all the things I've lost.

She frowned. She hoped that being his prisoner wouldn't be as bad now that he had no choice but to let her assist him in raising her brother. Maybe that would make her situation a little more bearable. It would at least keep her mind busy and far away from the things now lost.

"But it still sucks!" she declared, standing up and shaking her fist in the air. "Really! I can't believe I have to be Syndrome's prisoner! Seriously!"

"Shut up in there!" yelled one of the guards, yet again pointing his gun at her.

"Shut up? Shut up?" Violet glared at him dangerously. "You shut up, you… you fat head! Or else!"

The guard flushed red. "Don't make me come in there!"

"Come on!" She waved him forward. "Bring it, fat head!"

"That's it!" He threw down his gun, fisting his hands.

"Don't do it, Doug!" pleaded his partner. "She's going to kick your butt!"

"Don't tell him that!" exclaimed Violet. "He won't want to fight me, then!"

"I'm gonna turn you into a pretty pancake! Don't hold me back, Frank!" He charged towards her only to be frozen in space and thrown backwards by zero-point energy. Violet shouted a curse and pouted angrily at Syndrome who waved the other lackey away. The guard skittered away happily, leaving Syndrome to approach Violet with an amused smirk.

"Don't bully my men," said Syndrome nicely. "They're not as tough as they used to be."

"Not my fault," sniffed Violet casually. "Besides, he was being rude. Did you know he pointed a gun at me? A gun!" She crossed her arms, offended. "Really, there are zero manners on this jet. I'm surrounded by melonheads stuffed with wiener brains."

"Well that's just too bad," said Syndrome, mockingly sympathetic. "And what's this about you not allowing Mammon to come and see me?"

"Mammon? I don't know a Mammon."

"The boy," said Syndrome.

Violet blinked at him before she let out a disbelieving laugh. "Mammon?" She snorted. "Oh heck no! There is no way you're naming him Mammon."

"I can name him whatever I want."

"You may have him wrapped around your pinky because you gave him ice cream for dinner, but you've got to be pretty stupid if you think he'll give up his name for you. Besides!" She shrugged. "What's wrong with Jak Jak?"

"Jak Jak is not an evil name," stated Syndrome obviously.

"Neither is Buddy," returned Violet.

Something flashed in Syndrome's eyes and before she could say, "Whoops," he pinned her up against the wall, lifting her up by the front of her shirt. She barely had time to realize that, hey, my bra is flashing everyone in front of us, before the danger set in, making any other thoughts fly out of the window.

Bye bye…

"Don't," he whispered dangerously, "you ever call me by that name. Ever."

Something far too rebellious within her cackled evilly. How dare he bait her with something so obvious, so tempting? It was cruel, cruel! It would be her downfall. But at least she'd have fun falling.

"Oh," she said slowly, "I'm not supposed to call you Buddy?"

"No," he ground out, "you aren't."

Violet feigned deep thought. "Hmm… Well then." She gave him an irritating, victorious look. "I suppose I'm just going to have to call you Buddy for now on."

He was so surprised by her blatant rudeness that he dropped her. She stumbled and toppled over, landing heavily on her funny bone. Her eyes snapped open when the painful, tingling rush ran through her arm and she howled.

"Ow ow ow owowowowow!"

"I don't get it," said Syndrome, amazed. "I just don't get it." He looked down at her, baffled. "This is not how a prisoner should act."

Violet didn't hear him. She was too busy rolling around in pain.

Why is it called a funny bone? Knock knock jokes are funny! This is not flipping funny!!

"Get up. You're being a wuss."

"Shut up!" She kicked out at him, hitting him in the back of the knee. Before he could curse, his leg gave out. He topped forward and banged his head against the wall- blang!- before he came down right on top of her.

"Aaaahhh! Rape!"

"I'm not raping you, you she-witch!" He grunted, trying to get up. "Dammit, move your body out of the way!"

"No, you move your body, melonhead!"

The lackeys appeared, staring.

"Oh no! See, I told you, Doug!"

"I could have taken her."

"No… No you couldn't have! You would have died."

"Would not!"

"Uh huh!"

"No!"

"Uh- yeah!"

"Would you two idiots get over here and restrain her?!"

It took a full five minutes- five minutes filled with elbows, curses, teeth, and a declaration of love quickly followed by a black eye- before Violet was once again chained to the wall, glaring evilly at Syndrome who was very close to giving Frank another black eye.

"You idiot!" cursed Doug. "You aren't supposed to fall in love with her!"

"But she's so strong!" sobbed Frank. "I can't help it!"

"Both of you, get out!" Syndrome zapped them with zero-point energy and threw them out of the room. Quickly he turned back to Violet who was still thrashing and snarling and spiting her fury.

"Be a good prisoner!" demanded Syndrome.

"I don't have to!" returned Violet. "You need me and you know it!"

"No," said Syndrome almost too quickly, "no I don't. I can always hire someone to take care of him-"

"You will never be able to take of a toddler super with a threat level of 9.0 without his sister, the only one who knows what kinds of food he'll eat without bursting into flame and what song to sing to make him stop oozing all over the couch."

Syndrome scowled deeply, very deeply, so deeply that it was a miracle his face didn't cave in from the force of his displeasure.

But he wasn't an idiot. He knew she was right.

"You truly are a she-witch."

"And you're a melonhead, Buddy."

"I told you not to call me that!"

"And I really don't care."

Syndrome crossed his arms, sighing heavily. "You are a worthy opponent, sweetheart."

Violet eye twitched, but she refused to yell at him. "So are you, Buddy. Kind of." She shrugged. "Okay, I've faced scarier guys than you but… eh. You're okay, I guess."

"I think I hate you," stated Syndrome casually.

"Likewise."

A loud explosion rocked the ship and smoke billowed followed by a feminine scream that had to belong to Frank. From within the destruction and the shouted orders- "Seal up that hole before the whole wall comes apart!"- Jak Jak giggled furiously.

"That was awesome!" He giggled again- his giggle eerily similar to a cackle- just as two more beams exploded, Frank screaming again.

"My hair!!"

Violet, hardly fazed- her bathtub had been blown up before, with her in it no thanks to her little bro- slid her eyes over towards a fairly pale Syndrome. He felt her eyes and he slowly, reluctantly met her victorious gaze.

"I think," she said slowly, confidently, "I am the most important person in your life right now."

Syndrome heard Jak Jak be restrained, his angry crying soon turning into the screams of his men as the familiar sound of fire crackled

"Doug! Nooo!"

Syndrome turned back to Violet who was looking even smugger.

"Don't give me that look," he said with a snap. "You're still my prisoner." He crossed his arms and a similar expression to Violet's entered his face, causing her to raise her eyebrow in wonder.

"Don't think it's just Jak Jak that you're going to have to take care of," said Syndrome with a grin.

Violet paled.

Not fair.