Rick Dicker sat in his office with a stack of files before him. They were all profiles related to Violet Parr's alter ego and the enemies that she had faced off against. She didn't have any arch-nemesis, at least not that he was aware of- though she did get some concerning fan mail when she was active. Men and even the occasional woman were writing all the things they would do to her if she ever gave them a chance. Some letters were tastefully put, trying to romance the super and whatnot. Others however were not. She was never given access to those letters and while Rick didn't make many arrests in his division he always made it a point to be on the scene for those interrogations whenever there was a repeat writer.
"Dicker," called a rookie from the hall. Agent Kent. A good kid overall who would eventually become the main POC for the Incredible family. "You gotta see this."
The pair made their way down the hall towards the building's break room. He didn't know what the hell could be so damn important in there. Maybe he was being forced into retirement and the administration was sending that message with a party.
Stepping into the room, Dicker was relieved to see only a few souls sitting in the room with their bagged lunches. He wasn't sure what Kent was trying to show him until he eyed the small television tucked into the far corner ceiling.
"-with the assistance of WatchDog, police were able to obtain evidence directly related to the missing person case of 26-year-old Violet Parr, an intern at DevTech Enterprises. Parr tragically lost her life in a villainous deal gone wrong…"
You had to have a strong heart for this line of work, but Rick Dicker felt his ticker crumble and crack in his chest. He grabbed hold of the wall and shook his head in disbelief.
"Call the news stations to put a stop to the story, we need to get ahead of this. I'll get in touch with the family, God willing they haven't already seen the news."
Buddy sat in his DevTech office, patiently waiting for the news to finally sink in. As WatchDog, he had sent out a tip to local authorities concerning the disappearance of one Violet Parr and the media had put it out the minute that they had the story.
At 2358 hours on Saturday night, there was an explosion that took down the abandoned flour mill factory outside of the city. It was where Buddy had sent Sardonic to pick up his 'reward'. The amount of explosives that were packed into the delivery droid didn't leave so much as a shred of the perpetual thorn that was known as Sardonic. In the early hours of this fine morning, he had sent another delivery drone to Sardonic's place of residence to plant the blood-covered dress that Violet was last seen in and had dropped off a flash drive to local police containing plans of a trade-off of a pretty young woman to an unknown buyer, along with a spliced recording of this fake deal that introduced a generic male voice, the nasally pitch of Sardonic, and the talented leading lady herself, a mumbling and threatening Violet Parr.
It was just after 10 in the morning when HR sent out an email to the staff concerning the news. Buddy could hear Winston crying from down the hall. He was void of empathy due to the fact that this was his ruse, but he had enough compassion in him to bring Apple to work today, knowing that Winston would be a mess.
Still, the sound of his business partner crying was music to his ears- but it wasn't nearly as satisfying as watching the cameras within the Parr residence.
Mr. Incredible was inconsolable and was currently a one-man logger crew, tearing down the small forest behind the house. Elastigirl, known for her agility, hadn't moved from her seat at the kitchen table in hours. He didn't have eyes on either of the kids but he imagined that they were either unaware of the news just yet or they were on the ground looking for any trace of their lost sister.
A family's worst nightmare was their reality now. Syndrome could hardly contain his satisfaction.
Turning off the live feed of the Parr Kitchen video feed, the man eyed the work in front of him and found that he had no motivation to push papers or review plans. He just wanted to bask in the chaos that was going on.
He tried to imagine how Dicker was handling the news and how in the dark the NSA was on the truth. If he had it his way, not a single soul within the NSA would see even a hint of Violet again, but that bet was on the table.
He had already notified HR that he would be out of the office for the next two days. The reason for his absence was disguised as a very important meeting with a potential investor on the east coast but the truth was that would be when he and Violet would have their match. The second day added would just be reserved for caring for potential wounds. Supers tend to heal much faster than average humans but he was going to fight as dirty as he could.
He wasn't going to kid himself. Violet was the strongest super there was, a perfect 10 compared to her father's rating of 9.1 and while the super had managed to best him a week ago and destroyed his droids on the regular he still felt he had the advantage.
He knew all of her moves, practically had an ongoing choreography in his mind. It would be a lot of dodging on his part but he could manage that no problem, the thing he had to be most concerned about was her near-perfect defense system. He might have enhanced her abilities with his recent gift, but he always kept the best toys for himself.
Together they would finally answer the paradoxical question of what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object.
Picking up the phone on his desk, Buddy hit the line that led to Winston's office. Normally, the perpetually merry fellow picked up on the first ring, but given the stress he was under, Winston didn't pick up until the third ring.
"Hey there Win, how are you holding up?"
"Jimmy, I'm not gonna lie… I don't think I've cried this much even after my father died. Violet was such a great kid!"
"Yup."
"She had her whole life in front of her!"
"She sure did. Nothing short of tragic."
"I should make the funeral arrangements for her… I always cracked the joke that corporate kills but I never imagined that-"
"Win. Listen to me. It's not your fault. Okay?"
"But I-"
"Nope. It's not your fault, and I know Violet wouldn't want you to think that either. You sound like you are grieving pretty heavily yourself. Don't worry about the funeral, I'll make the arrangements and handle the expenses."
"Jimmy-"
"Don't worry about it. I'll start calling things up and make sure her memory is well preserved," he said as he examined his fingernails. The memory wipers that the NSA used weren't exactly down to a science, but he figured that the modifications could be a little more precise. "You know, I have to be out of town for a couple of days, and I'd hate to be a burden, especially in this difficult time, but do you think you would be able to watch Apple for me? I know it's last minute."
There was silence on Winston's side. Quiet enough for Buddy to consider if he should walk down the hall to check on the sad fellow but Winston came back onto the line.
"I-I'd like that a lot. Thank you."
"My pleasure," Buddy replied. He hadn't planned on dumping Apple on the man initially, but it did help sell the trip better- not that he had to convince anyone of anything he did. "I'm going to hang up now, but can I do anything else for you?"
"No, I'll- I'll be fine. You're a good friend, I hope you know that."
Buddy paused at the question. Was he?
He had taken Violet from right underneath his nose and led him to believe that she was dead. Had infiltrated the company specifically to use it as a shield. This wasn't friendship but rather manipulation. Parasitism if he was being completely honest.
But as long as Winston felt that it was real, it may as well be real.
Violet sat at the dining room table with her knees to her chest as she watched her family grieve her death, trying to remind herself that it was better this way. It had to be this way. It was safer this way.
She knew that there was no 'fair' in this situation. There wasn't a scenario where she could just go home, and even if there was, what the hell would she tell them?
'Hey guys, I got kidnapped by Syndrome and had to fight his murder bots for his science project but it's okay- he's not so bad once you get past the narcissistic megalomaniac side of him to see that he's actually some dumb dork who wants validation. I could have escaped but I really wanted to make some changes in my life including going after members of the NSA. Oh and also, we fucked.'
Yeah. Watching her family mourn her death sucked. It sucked a lot. But somehow the truth felt worse.
The front door opened and Violet waited to hear the padding footsteps of Apple to approach but they never came. Instead, she was greeted by the man who had started this whole mess for her.
Buddy's eyes met hers briefly then they traveled down to the table where she had some books open including a medical textbook he recognized that belonged in his room. He smirked, figuring she was trying to plan what body parts she could damage without killing him. Hopefully. Turning to the screen Buddy saw that the whole family was there now.
Well, all but one of the Parr's, obviously.
"Apple is going to be staying with Winston for a few days. Seemed like he needs someone right now."
"Wow. Is that genuine kindness I'm hearing right now?" Violet asked and Buddy shook his head.
"Memory wipes are pretty draining. Figured it would be best to get her out of the picture to let you rest."
Violet furrowed her brow at the comment and planted her feet on the floor again.
"Or maybe you did it because you know I'm going to break you tomorrow and you won't be able to handle her energy."
Buddy grinned enjoying the rise he got out of the super.
"Well, I just want to let you know that I don't want you holding back any punches tomorrow even though I'm the brains of WatchDog and all. It would be a crying shame if I couldn't perform to my utmost ability, but I don't like being robbed of an actual victory." he taunted as he neared the table. "I'm certain you won't win, but just wanted to remind you of that fun fact."
"Oh, don't worry, you don't need working legs to operate the cyber side of our operation," Violet bit back as she pushed the chair out from behind her and rounded the edge of the table.
Clicking his jaw at the threat, Buddy stepped closer but paused only to see movement on the screen that showed her family. Dicker was on the scene and Robert looked pissed. The volume was muted, but it was clear that he was screaming about something. The faithful agent seemed to just take the anger as it came. The pair watched the scene unfold in silence. Helen was still in shock, but her brothers seemed to be able to reign in Mr. Incredible's temper away from Dicker. Buddy wondered what the hell Dicker had done to get that amount of heat from the man, but grief looked different on everyone and Robert Parr opted for the angry route it seemed.
"How do you do it?" Violet asked, neither of them looking away from her family.
"Do what?"
"Not running back into your old life, or contacting your family. How do you do it?"
Buddy turned away from the screen and sat against the edge of the table. Folding his arms he offered a shrug as he glanced her way.
"I've got it relatively easy, Parr. When I died, there was no one who would have shown up to my funeral," he said looking over his shoulder and at the screen again. Bob was holding a newspaper and pointing to an article. "I was out of their lives long before the crash."
Violet nodded in understanding. The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she felt like she had asked it before, or some version of it. "What about your family? Where are they?"
"My mom died when I was a kid," Buddy admitted. "My father left after she passed so I ended up in the system. Sometimes I get the itch to see whatever became of him but I'm happier thinking he drank himself into an early grave."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. People die. That's just life."
Violet glanced up to him again, doing her best not to psychoanalyze him. It took a lot more than a bad childhood to make what he became but it was a start to that case study.
"May I ask how she died?"
"She was sick for a long time. I'm not sure what it was though. Cancer. Hep C maybe- the doctors wouldn't say, like keeping the name of something from kids shields them from the pain of it all. She'd have her good days and bad days until they all became bad days and then those ran out too." He didn't need to tell her these things, but he was going to win their wager tomorrow anyway. She wouldn't remember this conversation, him drugging her, the darker version of the SRA or anything else that happened over the weekend. Including the event that took place on the table the very table he was propped up against. "Like I said, people die, Parr. But we are part of the very selective club of the living dead, so enjoy purgatory, because this is it."
Pushing off from the furniture he moved to the liquor cart to get himself a drink, trying to remember if he drank more or less since she had entered this house. He felt like it was more, but maybe it was just because there was someone else to watch him poison himself slowly. He had just revealed that alcoholism runs in his veins, and here he was going to cleanse himself at the bottom of a bottle.
Before he could pour himself a glass he felt Violet's hand over his. He didn't want to look at her. He didn't want to acknowledge whatever it was that she would have to say. He just wanted it to be the next day, after their duel and after he took away the last few days for her. Where she wouldn't connect this room to him the way he was thinking of it now.
She kissed his cheek and he didn't know what to do. He stood there like an idiot, wondering what he had done to deserve this. The jet crash he understood, if he was caught by the NSA or the FBI he'd understand that too. The neglect and abuse from his father figures was just a staple in his life that he didn't question anymore but he wanted to know what he had done to deserve something so cruel as the gentleness she was giving him now.
She kissed his lips and he still didn't respond.
Maybe it was a ploy on her part. An attempt to lower his defenses when they fought tomorrow. If she could get underneath his skin he'd just give in and let her win.
Her hand left him and he thought that the pain had passed for him but the hand was now caressing his cheek and he kissed him again. He set the glass down and pulled his head away before she could kiss him again.
"You don't know what you're doing," he mumbled. He couldn't bring himself to look into those dark ocean blue eyes of hers. "You won't remember any of this anyway."
"Then I'm not risking anything, am I?" She asked in reply.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"I don't understand the question."
"Why are you acting like you care?"
"Why are you acting like you don't?"
Buddy swallowed at the question. He might not be part of the elite few who were issued to wear masks but that didn't stop him. It was always easier to put on a fake face, take another drink and not think about what was underneath the surface. Just get to the next goal. And then the next one. Just keep pushing until something gives and move to the next plan.
"What does it matter, Parr? I'm the bad guy here. Get it? You keep making me out to be a simple rehab case and you're going to find out that I'm not one to change."
"I think you already have."
He clenched his fists at the accusation. He wasn't looking for redemption and he had to make that perfectly clear to her but he didn't know how that was possible when he found himself doing things that were against his better nature.
"You can't save everyone, super. Just remember that."
"It's not about me saving you, it's about changing for the better, Buddy," Violet whispered. There was science that could back her up in an argument for once. Neuroplasticity, the fact that the brain isn't a static organ, that things could change, people could change. As much as society believed that criminals would always be set in their ways, there was hope that even someone like Syndrome had the capacity to change. Hope for a better man. "We can get better because we're not dead yet," Violet whispered as her lips brushed against his again.
He wanted to believe that but he didn't. As he kissed her he wanted to think he could shift gears but this was how he was programmed to be. Trust no one. Use them up and spit them out.
He kissed her deeply, forgetting his place in all of this. Ignoring the part of his brain that screamed that this wasn't what he had planned on- that he should return to the way things were and not what he wanted them to be. She wasn't going to remember any of this and didn't he deserve to live in the moment for once?
He didn't even realize that he had led her to his bedroom until she was pulling him down on top of the sheets. He hadn't a drop of liquor in him yet he was getting drunk off of her. Intoxicated by her soft skin, her tender and sweet lips that released delicate mewls of pleasure as their bodies intertwined.
This wasn't right. He was doing it again.
But she was complicit in this act as well, wasn't she?
Adding fuel to the fire with each additional kiss she gave him, the begging 'yeses' providing the oxygen to this unlawful inferno.
She screamed out his name, it sounded so much more appealing in her voice, in that pitch, and it was only after he came that he came to his senses again, but he didn't pull away from her. Not willing to let go of her just yet. This would be the last time he could let this happen- once he let go he wouldn't be able to pull her back again.
"I'll miss this-" Buddy mumbled into her skin as Violet combed a hand through his hair.
"I'm not going to let you win," Violet said firmly. "So you're not going to be able to throw me away."
Buddy lifted himself to stare down at the woman he had to fight in the morning. Who was he kidding, they were always fighting- even when they weren't at each other's throats they were constantly undermining each other. Regardless of tomorrow's outcome, they would continue to fight each other until there was nothing left of the other side. He was an arms dealer, so he did take comfort in conflict- profited off it too! But this war was one he wasn't sure if he wanted to take part in anymore.
'Just one more win. All is fair in love and war,' he thought to himself. Of course he was going to fight dirty, but could he take more from her than the agreed amount?
A clean slate was possible, the NSA used to do it all the time with the witness protection program. No need to worry about Mr. And Mrs. Smith conforming to their new lives, they were given a nearly perfect reset switch, but the files that he had studied had unforeseen side effects when they did a deep wash. The person lost who they were completely. Not just their names or knowing where they came from originally but their personalities altered drastically. Folks who were red-blooded conservatives would turn tail and join their local communist party, people who spent years in a trade that they enjoyed in their past life had no passion for it in the new.
He could erase Violet, start her up anew. Mold her into something that could suit his wants and desires… but would he actually like that? In theory, oh hell yes. Turn Mr. Incredible's daughter into the ultimate femme fatale- or the picture-perfect housewife? … But he liked that fight in her. He liked her rebelliousness and the passion she had for the concept of justice. He didn't agree with it all the time, but she was growing on him.
"Do you even want to remember this?" He asked seriously and she smiled sadly at him.
"Do you think everyone wants to forget you, or do you prefer living anonymously?"
There was a sick joke in all of this. Sigmund Freud level sickness, I mean, hadn't Freud said that it would never be possible to avoid little laboratory explosions? Buddy wasn't sure who was really in control here and he didn't think he wanted to know the answer either.
"Get out of my head," he grumbled and when the woman motioned to get out from underneath him he held her with possession. "I said head, not bed."
Violet stiffened at the action but didn't fight, that's what tomorrow was for. Instead, she curled in closer, her head resting against his chest, her eyes tracing the pale pink and white raised lines and specks that littered his frame. Unsurprisingly, she found a heart beating within the man, but she didn't want to alarm him of this discovery, because a heart in the literary sense implied that he was capable of empathy or compassion and he didn't seem to like to think that he could be a good guy.
Violet was the first one to awaken. When she pulled herself out of Buddy's hold she had pulled him from sleep's hold as well. They didn't exchange pillow talk or sweet good morning pleasantries, only vacant stares were passed between them, each other silently hoping that the other would cave into the other's demand, but both of them were too stubborn in their own right.
Violet slowly made her way across the room and stopped to look back at Buddy who had yet to move an inch.
"See you down there I guess."
"Yeah. See you in a bit."
"Make sure you eat breakfast," Violet stated, making Buddy cock an eyebrow at the question and she shrugged. "It's the most important meal of the day," she said with a defensive shrug.
"OK super," Buddy mocked but he had no real intention on eating this morning. He rolled onto his back once she was out of the room and covered his face with his hands as he tried to motivate himself for the tasks of the day.
Shower and shave. Pull out his gear to fight the super with, beat her, and wipe her mind. Then it was back to business as usual... Get Violet's gear prepped for subduing Harris this weekend. Find another sorry sap to exploit…. Provide any necessary aftercare to Violet…
'But what if you lose?'
"That's not an option."
'But what if you do? How does your day go then?'
Buddy bit his tongue at the concept. Nothing was impossible, but preparing for failure was another way of expecting failure in his mind.
On the extremely off-chance that Violet was to best him in the ring, his first concern would be if she had killed him or not though that would be the end of all of his problems. As long as he wasn't mortally wounded the only major change would be not getting what he wanted and being forced to join in on the suicide-pact she was determined to pursue. Other than that and self-care, nothing would change. Right?
But it still couldn't happen.
Cleaned up and dressed in his workout clothes, Buddy made his way down the hall to get himself a cup of coffee before checking out his gear. He was about halfway down the staircase when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. Buddy found himself grinning rather than cringing at the sound. This match just grew more in his favor.
"You okay, Parr? Did you lose you breakfast?" He prodded from where he stood. She didn't answer and he grew somewhat concerned but hearing the sound of a flushing toilet eased his mind.
He grabbed a coffee to go as well as a cup of oatmeal, only to please the super, and he descended down into his lab as confident as ever. He had all the tech he needed to level the playing field with her.
The invisibility part would be tricky for the average person, but he had heat-seeking goggles that would be able to pick her out.
His agility would be increased thanks to his rocket boots so dodging her attacks shouldn't be difficult at all. What he was concerned about however was getting through the force fields of hers.
His Zero Point Energy rays were, unfortunately, useless against her shields. If he had more time he might have been able to find a frequency or heat level that could pierce the super's protective layer but that pet project would have to wait another day. Blunt force and quantity would be his friends here instead and he had them. He'd be bringing the smoke bombs to play and he also had upgraded his gauntlets to full graphene gloves that could produce the same amount of force that 's fists could produce.
Suffice to say, he had this match in the bag. He only wished that he had an outfit to match his superiority but the old suit didn't quite feel right any more. Maybe someday he would custom order something from Gabaki or some other designer for shits and giggles but for now his tracksuit would have to do.
Chamber one was the field that he and Violet would fight on and entering the room he was surprised to see Violet was already inside with the medical bot on standby.
"Listen Parr, if you are feeling under the weather you can just take the L and we can get on with that memory wipe," Buddy said, taking note at how pale she looked.
"What constitutes a win here?" Violet asked as though they never had this conversation before. "At what point do we say the match is over?"
"Well, ideally, conceding defeat is a good mark of victory. A straight knockout too. I suppose killing the other person would make a win too but I'd prefer to stay away from that."
"Great, okay- before we begin I have a final question. Did you eat breakfast?"
"You're kidding me right?"
"I'm not. Did you eat breakfast?"
"Vi-"
"Please just answer the question?!"
From the waist up Buddy's body went slack. She was something else. Rolling his eyes he nodded his head.
"Yes, I had breakfast, okay Parr?! I'm kinda glad that you're so caught up in this nurturing role right now to be honest. You actually had me convinced that you are capable of being a kill-"
He was cut off by the sudden and violent urge to throw up but it wasn't an urge. It was forced.
Doubled over, Buddy released the contents of his stomach, retching up the blended and barely digested remains of his oatmeal and coffee. He tried to remember the last time that he was this ill- but it wasn't a sickness, it was closer to the time when his father had punched him in the stomach for taking apart the tele- Buddy's eyes widened with realization as he saw Violet's elevated hand.
The medical textbook. The sound of her vomiting. Her nagging that he should fight on a full stomach. He thought he had seen everything she could throw but she had an Ace in the hole as well. And it was in him.
The force field was inside of him.
He didn't realize he had fainted until he was staring up at a distraught Violet. He saw her lips moving but the sound had yet to hit his ears. He was in shock. She had beaten him, maybe not fair and square but it wasn't like he was going to win anyway.
"I'm sorry! Please be okay! I shouldn't have done that!" Violet repeated over and over again in different variations.
When did she learn to do that?
"I'm sorry! Just please be okay-"
Was it before she got here or after? Surely it couldn't be after. Though she did test it on herself earlier. He had to admire the dedication but that was dangerous.
"I should have just demonstrated it on something else."
She could have really hurt herself.
"You just have to be okay- I can't- I can't-"
He felt the tears on his cheeks before he became aware of the streaks running down her face. Why was she crying?
"You win," Buddy uttered, unable to turn his head away from the beautiful and terrifying woman who held his head in her lap. She had stopped crying and stared at him in relief. He released a chuckle and shook his head. "I thought I was the sneaky one but damn… You really got me," he whispered as he closed his eyes again. "Violet?"
"Yeah?"
"Who else knows that you can do that?" He asked with his eyes still closed, steeping himself into the comfort he felt with her fingers combing through his hair.
"Just you and- and Rick. I don't think he told my parents about it and- he uh, he wiped all of the witnesses I think. Dash was there but I don't think he saw."
'
"That's good."
"Are you okay? Your robonurse did a scan and said you're okay, but are you okay?" Violet asked and the man smiled gently at the question.
"I think I'm okay."
"Can you move? I didn't hit anything else, right? I'm so stupid!"
"Violet. You aren't stupid. That was… brilliant. But Vi,"
"Yeah Buddy?"
"Nobody else can know about this."
"I'll never do it again- I promise. I promised Rick too but I- I'm so sorry," Violet cried as he lifted his hand above his head to touch her face. Opening his eyes again, Buddy shook his head.
"I didn't say that… It's a neat trick. You can do it again… Just not to me. Or yourself… Everyone else is fair game…"
"Can you get up for me?"
"I'd- I'd prefer not to. Not just yet…." he mumbled as he closed his eyes again. "Do- do you think you can keep brushing my hair like that? It feels nice." Violet nodded and began to run her fingers through his hair again. Buddy breathed deeply as he came to terms with the defeat. "I never stood a chance, huh?"
"Nope."
"I think I should listen to you more often," he muttered with a smile and gave a smile in return before she rested her head against his, her silky black hair cascading around him.
"Are you mad?"
"Mad? No… no. But I'm thinking about revoking the right to call myself Mr. Incredible's number one fan. And I'd kiss you too, but I don't think you'd enjoy the taste of bile."
"And we shouldn't because we'd be breaking rule five," Violet said gently while holding back a laugh. Buddy sighed reluctantly and nodded.
"Right, rule five… we can't go breaking that when we have some necks to break."
He didn't much care for rule five, and he wanted to point out that they had already shattered the rule twice now, but she had been to initiate the crime both times now. He might not have won this battle, but maybe he'd be able to win the war over rule five.
