Disclaimer_I do not own 'Thundermans'
Chapter I
It was noon when Max blindingly charged to the front door, flinging curses when he nearly toppled his mother's favourite potted plant.
He leaned against the wall and heard the hush of conversation from the other end of the door. Great, just great. He had the worst luck imaginable. He thought his parents were to indulge in one of their long ass dates to celebrate their anniversary and would be coming in late – apparently, he was wrong.
It was way past six. It didn't look good, considered he broke a promise that was his commitment in babysitting his younger siblings. He didn't want to do it, having already declared the boredom of said task. Billy and Nora were exhausting but apparently he hasn't been spending enough time with his siblings and they were starting to feel alienated from them.
Phoebe was a superhero, official at that. Her time home is spent on improving her academics or her combat efficiency. He on the other hand was a rare somebody at home. His habits were inappropriate to the general mass of society that their parents were afraid he'd brush off on the little brats.
Which brings him to question their wisdom in insisting he waste his valuable time as a free spirited teenager to look after those two ingrates. It was beyond him, daresay beneath him but such vulgar excuses would warrant his punishment for days on end.
He never understood their point. Phoebe, aside from the disappointing shakes of her head and rolls of her eyes never had a problem with their unspoken agreement. She babysits. He has fun - away from home.
Max straightened himself when the voices stopped but hesitated to step inside. He didn't even have a decent excuse going for him until he had the urge to suddenly slap himself over the head, refusing to gaze upwards. This was stupid. He was stupid, the existence of the surveillance pinned to the doorstep having skipped his mind.
Something was amiss the moment he closed the door to his back. His father only ever crossed his arms whenever he was to put it mildly, kind of serious? His mother was also standing. They both were - crowding his twin sister who by the looks of things was on the verge of tears.
Her scarlet face was a dead giveaway...and what he found troubling was the solemn look on her face as she stared holes into the carpet.
"I didn't do it." he said suddenly.
It was one thing to mess with her, but another to do it and have no inkling remembrance of when he had done whatever it is he did to render her to, well, this.
In a fraction of a second, was what it took for them to finally acknowledge his presence. It put him off even further when Phoebe's demeanour exuded this rarely seen side of deep seated vulnerability or, shame, since she somewhat flinched in his direction, refusing to look his way.
"Max. Go to your room." Barb basically ordered in a strange monotone, displeased eyes never leaving her daughter. "we'll deal with you later."
His curiosity got the better of him since he didn't get the message. He took in the tense atmosphere. At the centre of it all was Phoebe - she was in trouble. Even Hank, who on occasion proclaimed the former was his favourite out of his children displayed signs of restrained annoyance and anger. It was a rare feat. Only he accomplished that feat.
"What's going on?"
"Max, do what your mother says and go to your room. This has nothing to do with you." Hank ventured, arms crossed, the ancient signs of his aged muscles protruding through his brown shirt.
"Is Phoebe in trouble?"
"Octavius Thunderman. If you don't go down to your room in the next five seconds..."
The warning hung in the air and it only took body language alone to comprehend the state of affairs; deadly serious. Max backed away slowly and retreated to his lair without a word.
It was one thing to keep a secret from him, but it was another to threaten him in such a forward manner. It was overwhelming to say the least. This shiver that ran down his spine when he realized the warning came not only from his father, but Thunder Man himself.
Whatever happened, Phoebe has it bad. What she did was a of a magnitude he couldn't fathom. They weren't even pissed to this extent after discovering he was perpetually in contact with a notorious villain. It was an insult to his last name but the drama lasted for only a day.
This was new. It wasn't him this time. It was Phoebe. The self-righteous goody-two-shoes destined for greatness since birth. The arse-licker as Colosso would often put it.
Max chuckled with mirth. Life, was funny. It was a convenient irony at best. Come to think of it, she was the reason the bunny wasn't here to enjoy this joyous moment with him. It had been consecutive months but the titbit of resentment reserved for her never got the appropriate send off either.
The thought made him glance at the table to his far left. The cage was a memoir to sweeten the unforgettable moments. He rested an old black and white picture of the two of them inside of his mentor's former abode.
Looking away, Max frowned, brushing the mushy mess aside. He was over it – bygones, besides, there were other matters of importance at hand. The twitch to his lips were the beginnings of a smirk. They were probably made aware of him via Thunder Monitor hence they temporarily ceased their conversation and sending him to his room would only mean one thing.
Max shook his head at his genius, bouncing off the bed to the exclusive part of his lair composed of very expensive electronics.
His lair, unfortunately, in this particular case was every inch soundproof but that was a stepping stone. An incessant tapping reverberated through the silent atmosphere. Max smiled cheekily when the words 'admission granted' flashed across his monitor.
He didn't bother with the swivel chair, instead fiddling to clasp the headphones against his ears. Static, but after a few seconds, Barb's voice became clear as the day of light.
'What were you thinking!'
Standard procedure, Max thought to himself. It was expected when a response didn't come out of Phoebe. Hank pressed on a bit more, driving in the nail of how disappointed he was. Barb muttered a few unclear words. Max frowned, and tinkered with the computer a bit more, hoping the frequency was consistent and modulated properly.
The conversation took a stern turn with his mother in the lead. Max could hear clearly now. He nodded to himself. Hank added to the subject of decency and disgrace. There were innuendos, but Max couldn't make heads of what they were talking about until a courageous effort from Phoebe in the act of denial and defending herself compelled her mother to yell something utterly unexpected. Max slapped the earphones from his ears, eyes widened by a portion.
"Holy, shit."