Hi guys! Long time no...see? Sorry this is not Once Upon A Time stuff, the normal thing that I did, but I've been in an Incredibles mood lately. I love these movies so much and think they deserve a backstory. Here's my best effort :)
This might continue, but it also might not since school takes my entire time away from me. Enjoy!
(I do not own The Incredibles).
"Maybe you should just be more…" She tilts her head, "Flexible?"
He huffs out a laugh, "You're flexible enough for the both of us." Bob teases, shutting his locker. "Time is time. I want to see you as long as I can."
"You know I have that thing." She interjects.
"Yes, well…I'll be there."
"There?"
"There."
She narrows her eyes, straightening her posture and folding her arms across her chest. She's toughening herself, she can feel it. She's prepared mentally and physically for the next words out of her mouth, she thinks. "Losing my dad isn't the same thing as hero work, Bob." She whispers, keeping her voice down.
At this age, they weren't supposed to announce their superhero identities yet. Once they graduate, they're allowed to do all the hero work they desire. Right now, it's too dangerous for them to admit out loud.
Her eyes fall to the floor, looking at his boots. "I'm so much stronger for that. I'm ready for that. This? I'm not ready for this, Bob." She murmurs.
He puts a strong hand around her arm, just above her elbow. "I know, Helen." He says, matching her softness. His fingers give a gentle squeeze, so light and airy for someone so strong, "I know. When I lost my parents…" He looks down, over his shoulder for a moment. She can tell the thought is actually bringing him pain. "When I lost my parents, I wasn't even sure I would ever want to do hero work. I was angry. I was upset. I was everything except for a super. They—"
"We shouldn't talk about this here." She warns, "Someone could be listening."
She leads the way, taking his hand and closing her locker. They step outside to the courtyard, overly quiet since most everyone has began to go home.
Once they were safely away from anyone and they had done their scans of the area, she nods to let him know to keep going.
"They were killed only because they were supers. Most love us, yeah, but…"
"Bob, I've been your best friend since we were twelve." Helen starts. "You never have told me how they were killed. Or why, really."
He swallows back the lump in his throat, "Because I didn't know. Edna just told me yesterday when I was fitted for a suit." He states.
There is a pause. An almost awkwardness since they both don't want to address that they can officially be supers next week after graduation. They have both been fitted for suits now, but neither of them are comfortable talking about it yet. They're ready, they've worked for this, but they're uneasy about taking that responsibility that comes along now.
"It's a story for another time. Another place. Not now. Now, we are focusing on you." He says.
She squints her eyes at him and purses her lips, "Neither of us are vulnerable, Bob." She says, laughing pitifully.
He shrugs, "Yeah…"
"Visitation starts at 4:00." She says after a few moments of silence. "Pick me up at 3:30?"
"3:30."
"My parents were killed by Sonic Shriek." He says, sitting in his car with her in the passenger seat. He's staring straight ahead at her garage door – at the house that is empty inside. "He was stealing a car. That's it. A stupid car." He says, shutting his eyes.
She can tell he is getting angry. She glances down at his fists – they are clenched and his forearm is bulging.
"They tried stopping him, but he got to them. Dad was strong, and Mom tried to hypnotize him, but it obviously wasn't a match for him."
She reaches over and takes his arm, extending her fingers so that they were wrapping around his fist. More silence passes between them, but neither of them move. Finally, she stretches her other arm around to reach his hand, squeezing it between his clenched fist. He releases immediately, afraid he would hurt her.
His shocked expression makes her lips pull into a smile. "I know you wouldn't hurt me." She says quietly. "Bob…thank you for telling me that." She says, looking down at her black dress. "Maybe one day…maybe one day it'll make sense. I mean, my mother…I think I've come to terms with that. Not every woman was made for childbirth."
He nods, "I know." He says, still looking at her.
She turns her head and looks at the house. "I don't want to go in that empty house." She whispers, her voice breaking a little. "I can't stand it."
He doesn't respond immediately, instead he lets go of her hand and opens his car door, getting out. She's concerned – why is he out? What's he doing? "Bob—"
"Come on." He says, opening her car door. "We'll go in together."
She flips the light on and sets her purse down. "If you're hungry, there's some cereal in the cabinet. I think the milk is still good – I haven't drank any in the last week."
"Have you eaten at all?"
"Bob, we don't have to do this." She says, her tone changing. She stands firm again, bearing herself for what she's about to say: "We already tried dating. It didn't work. We said we were friends, and we need to stay friends."
"I'm not—"
"I know you're not trying anything." She snaps. "We aren't sixteen and in your back seat anymore. We're not worried about a—" She stops, her breath catches in her lungs and forces her body to tremble. She has to look away from him for a moment, blink the tears from her eyes. "We're not worried about a baby anymore, Bob. We're friends. We said we would stay friends after that happened. We're friends. We're supers as of next week. We can't be risking any of this anymore."
He looks wounded. It's as though there's suddenly a gaping hole in this huge brick wall of a man. "We said—in the hospital after the— we wouldn't talk about the—"
"I know what we said. But I know the other thing we said, too, Bob: we're friends. That's it."
"And I'm just staying here as a friend. I'm worried about you as a friend, Helen. I'm making sure you've eaten." He says sternly, "Listen to me for one minute. Stop being so stubborn for two minutes. Give me another three minutes to pour some cereal in a damn bowl for the both of us to eat!" He shouts, making her attention shift fully onto him. She's never been scared of him, and still isn't, but he certainly knows how to make her listen. "I'm worried about you. You have had two traumatic experiences in the past two years, not to mention the stress about next week you've gotta be feeling. I'd know if you'd actually talk to me about it."
"We don't talk about—"
"We don't talk about anything, Helen! You always steer the conversation away from anything serious. I'm worried! You're worried! We're both scared! We need someone to lean on!"
She has to turn. She can't be strong and look at him at the same time. Her arms are folded tightly over her chest, "I know." She says. "Cereal…I'm good with cereal."
He nods, not saying another word as she goes to sit down at the dining table. She rests her face into her palms, holding the tears back that are bubbling up.
She hears a soft thud on the table, followed by another. The chair scoots out and she can hear his large body taking up the space in the seat. She lifts her head from her palms and looks at the cereal, her stomach turning a bit. "I haven't eaten all day."
"I figured."
He's digging into his mixing bowl of cereal. It makes a little sliver of a smile come to her face. The man is huge, and she can't help but laugh at that sometimes.
"I have extra blankets if you need them."
He snorts, "Helen, I don't need blankets. I sweat like a pig at night unless I'm stark naked."
She smirks, "Oh." She says as she tucks her face behind the door frame a little, watching him pull the covers back on the spare bed. "Well, if you need anything, I'm the room over."
He grunts as he throws the extra pillows into the chair. "Got it." He says.
"Goodnight, Bob." She says quietly, still watching him from just behind the door. "And…thanks."
He turns to face her, holding the blanket in his hand unconsciously, "Thanks?"
"For coming tonight. For being there. For being…for being here." She whispers, too afraid of how it might sound if she says it louder than that. Too afraid of her own voice cracking or of the lump in her throat. "I appreciate it more than I let on."
He smiles a little, turning back to his bed. "See you tomorrow, Helen."
Hopefully I will be able to continue this story...I love their dynamic! Hope you enjoyed.