Disclaimers: This belongs to the brilliant people at Pixar and Brad Bird, who should all get Oscars come Academy Awards night. YA'LL ROCK!
Notes: So like I said, my prologue was shorter than a ruler, but that's why chapter one is right here! Tadaa!
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Return to Nomanisan
By Sean Montgomery
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Dashiell Robert Parr had the striking good looks of his father and the charming characteristics of his mother. When amused he displayed a brilliant smile that made many of the girls in his class swoon. The same grin was displayed when he ran on the track just a few feet beyond everyone else, or sprinted down the basketball court with the winning shot. That trademark smile told the world who he was - competitive, intelligent, and unlike anything they'd ever seen.
Unfortunately, the trademark smile did little to move his teachers.
In the middle of an important math test during midterm week, he could feel the slight tremor in his chest, a modified feature thanks to Edna Mode so his suit couldn't beep aloud, signaling that he was needed to save Metroville. His pen stopped moving when he felt it, suddenly realizing how far he was from finishing the test. Maybe if he ran fast enough he could make it back in time to finish it, but first he needed to get out of there.
"Mr. Singer, I need to use the restroom." he said aloud, disrupting the class who quietly listened in to hear how this episode would conclude.
"Again, Mr. Parr? If I recall correctly, you've used the restroom on every major test you've taken this year, never returning to finish it." Mr. Singer leaned back in his chair, challenging Dash with his gaze.
How ironic that villains decide to attack when I'm in this class. "You gotta go when you gotta go, sir." Dash replied. Snickers filtered around the classroom.
"You can go before class, Mr. Parr. You're not excused."
"But I've really gotta go!"
Mr. Singer gave an irritated sigh. "Then go, Dash. As fast as you can!" He pointed a thin finger at the door.
"I'll do my best, sir, but I can't guarantee anything!" he replied, sprinting out the door, leaving a laughing class in his wake.
Once he left the classroom, Dash ran as fast as he could through the hallways, slowing down only once to put his street clothes in his locker. Placing his mask on his face as he ran, he bolted through the school doors and down the street, speeding by traffic with ease.
"Now, if only I knew where they were." he said to himself, glancing back and forth between the city's high buildings. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary until an explosion threw him off as he ran. Spotting smoke in the air, he turned and ran towards it. It wasn't long before he could hear screams and squealing tires in front of him. Gunshots echoed through the buildings. He ran faster and into an alley, emerging not a second later into the street.
Bang!
He almost felt the bullet before he heard it. He grabbed his arm, thankful for the bullet-proofing on his suit, and ran towards the first person he saw, which happened to be Elastigirl.
"Are you all right?" she asked, extending her arms and throwing a black clad robber back with her punch.
"Are there anymore left?" he asked, ignoring her question and scanning the bank's small parking lot. Illusion was busy fighting another robber, forming a force field and trapping bullets heading towards her.
"There's one more inside!"
"I'm on it!" Dash said, heading to the door and pushing it open violently. He tenderly rubbed his arm again, wincing at the welt he could already feel.
"Put your weapons down the walk towards the door slowly!" he yelled, cautiously walking further into the room. He heard a dull thud next to him and turned around frantically. Next to the door, a gun held loosely in his hand, was the third robber, a large bump forming on his head.
Dash glanced at the door and noticed the cracked glass spread on its entire length. "Oh."
The police came soon after Dash's discovery along with the streams of paparazzi that seemed to follow The Incredibles everywhere. Once the robbers were sent to the hospital, escorted closely by the police, the family of supers gathered at a safe distance from the press. Elastigirl and Illusion were the first to meet followed soon after by The Dash who waited to make sure all the offenders were taken care of.
"Is everyone all right?" Elastigirl asked.
"Who called me? I left during another math test. Mr. Singer is getting suspicious!" Dash whispered furiously.
"I'm sorry! I thought we needed help! It was getting busy around here!" Illusion said, brushing her long hair out of her eyes.
"Dash, can you take your sister back to the university?"
"I'm fine, mom. I left during study hall."
"Good. What about... where's Alternator?"
The group looked over to where the press was furiously shooting pictures. Standing before them, blue eyes wide and warm, was Alternator.
"Why does he always do this?" Dash asked, shaking his head slightly.
"He's ten! He's gonna take all the attention he can get. Remember how you acted?"
"This isn't about me, Vio-"
"Dash!" Elastigirl interrupted. "Take your brother back to school and run as fast as you can." His mother's tone had changed from irritated to urgent. "I'll see you back at the house."
With a nod, Dash walked over to his younger brother, catching only part of his speech to the press. His gestures were dramatic and wild, his words excited.
"... just like that! You know, I think if it hadn't been for me posing as a police officer, we wouldn't have gotten this job finished as fast as we did." He was saying. The press was laughing, writing every word down. "It's a good thing I'm great at what I do!"
Dash put a gloved hand on his brothers shoulder. "Alternator seems to forget that The Incredibles are a team and that one persons powers aren't better than the others." He squeezed the shoulder, biting back a chuckle when his brother quietly squeaked. "He also seems to have forgotten that we answer questions as a family." Alternator received a pointed gaze. "Not as an individual."
"I didn't forget." Alternator said, his embarrassment to being confronted in front of the press growing when his face flushed and they laughed.
"If you would all excuse us."
Even after all these years, the press still couldn't get over how fast The Dash could run. In one instant, he went from standing next to his brother to being replaced by air. Alternator was no where to be seen.
"A marvel indeed."
"The future of supers before us."
"Family feud within The Incredibles?"
Hundreds of eyes turned to a small man with a pad of paper. His small sausage fingers wrote furiously with a pen, though the words couldn't be seen because of his wide-rimmed gray hat. Immediately the group began writing all the events that had taken place between The Dash and Alternator. Forget the robbery - were The Incredibles in jeopardy?
"Why'd you have to say that?" Jack asked Dash as he ran down the street. "You had to say everything just then? In front of the press?"
"The press is the last place you should say anything, Jack. When you're saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, you need to be told when to stop."
If he weren't trying to hold on to his brother's neck and concentrating on not falling off his back, he would have gestured with his hands. "In front of the press!"
"It might have been the wrong place, but you've got to be more careful." he turned down the street, spotting the Elementary School in the distance. "Ready for drop-off?"
"I hate drop-off." Jack groaned.
"I would get you in the school, but I'm late finishing a test." The sidewalk came into view. "Just... become a puddle or something!" He dropped Jack onto the sidewalk, never looking back to see what happened to his brother. Increasing his speed, he darted around cars and people, reaching the grounds of his high school in record time. He slowed down slightly, pushing open the school doors and getting his clothes out of his locker. He made sure his mask was off before he stopped in front of the bathrooms. Thankful no one was there, he continued his way through the school, ready to finish his test. His eyes skimmed over a clock and he froze.
His math class had been over for forty-five minutes.
"Mr. Parr."
He tensed at the booming voice. Slowly, guilt and frustration knotting his stomach, he turned to Mr. Singer's echoing footsteps and watched his teacher walk intently towards him. His eyes were full of fury.
"Mr. Singer, I can explain everything. If you'll only hear me out-"
Mr. Singer cut him off with a wave of his hand. He paused, staring down Dash with his steely blue eyes. His neatly pressed shirt, pants and polished shoes made him all the more intimidating.
"I understand that you students have busy lives about now. Most of you have jobs and ask for no homework and I don't give you any. Work is profitable." he paused again. "Inanity is not."
"I really am sorry-"
"No, Mr. Parr. I'm sorry to see you throw away what looked to be a promising future. Skipping classes gets you no where, especially during a midterm test."
"Is there any way I can retake the test or do extra make-up work?"
Mr. Singer stared back skeptically. "I don't want any excuses."
"None at all, sir. I would have it for you before school." Dash's voice rang with honesty and desperation. He needed a better grade to improve the quarter's low marks. His eyes pleaded his case.
Mr. Singer never moved. "Pages one ninety-seven through one ninety-eight, every problem. I expect this on my desk before the first bell."
Dash gave his trademark smile. "Thank you, Mr. Singer."
"Before the fist bell, Dash. No exceptions."
"Before the first bell. I'll have it ready for you."
"You have until the day after tomorrow."
"Okay, sir. I'll be ready."
Mr. Singer paused once more before making his way down the hall. Dash watched him as he turned a corner and disappeared. He sighed deeply. Dread began to fill him as he realized he wouldn't be able to get out of his classes much longer.
The small suburban community was framed by a perfect sunset filled with pinks bordering the dark clouds and yellows shooting across the sky. The cool spring air only served to make it perfect. Picture perfect, it seemed.
Dash adjusted his jacket and moved his backpack to another shoulder. How odd it was that a perfect suburban community filled with normal people housed the most famous family in Metroville. As he slowly approached his house, Dash noticed the grill in the front yard, left there once his father died. In the corner of his mind a memory came to light - Bob standing in front of the grill and pouring the charcoal into it, Helen setting up an outdoor feast in the summer sun. Jack looked around quickly before setting his hand on top of the charcoal, igniting it into flames for the grill's fire. He pulled his band back and whistled, discreetly moving back to the house while Bob laughed, his eyes shining with pride for his son.
He would die two months later.
Dash kicked the grill on his way to the house, his quiet way of greeting his Dad. He never knew why he chose that homage instead of another. Maybe it was time to move on. Just like he had to when he realized his father really wasn't coming back.
"Mom? I'm home." he said, shutting the squeaky door and grabbing his backpack with one hand while using the other to take off his jacket. No one was in the living room.
The house was oddly quiet.
Slinging his bag over his back, he took off his shoes, never removing his gaze from the house. "Mom?"
The silence was the only thing that answered him. Cautiously, he moved through the living room and into the kitchen. Usually his mother would be making dinner about now, but she was no where to be seen. There were dishes in the sink that weren't there that morning.
He left the kitchen and turned a corner. His parent's bedroom door was open but the light was off. His gaze moved to the staircase before him.
Something moved in the darkness.
"Mom?"
The figure stopped. The stair light came on. At the bottom step, her hand on the light switch, stood Helen. Ten years had done little to her form, though her hair had a few flecks of gray that seemed to stick out due to the light. Her eyes were wide, though from surprise or spotting him at the top of the stairs he didn't know. "Hey honey."
He gave a deep sigh full of relief. "Where's Jack?"
Helen shifted the laundry basket on her hip. "He's spending the night at a friends house."
"On a school night?"
Helen gave her son a small smirk, the smile lines stretching across her face. "He didn't have any homework."
Dash pushed down the thought of rolling his eyes. "You scared me for a moment." he said, taking the stairs two steps at a time. "I didn't know if anyone was home."
"Sorry about that. I got caught up in chores down here and turned all the lights off upstairs." she grinned when he kissed her on the cheek. "How was school? Did you make it back on time?"
He froze for an instant on the way to his room. As much as he tried to hide it, his mother spotted it. "Dash?"
"I've got a lot of homework, mom." he said, opening the door. "I'd love to talk, but I need to get started on it as soon as I can."
Helen stared at the closed door and sighed. Years ago she would have pressed him further for information on what happened. With the knowledge of his grades and his work to do everything he could to keep them up, she only turned to the washer and set the basket on top of it, sorting through the clothes and planning for dinner. Questions could come later.
"Dash?" A whisper, spoken lightly to not startle him, echoed in his mind. He didn't move, hoping it was only part of his dream.
Then again, his dreams had been dark recently. He could see that dreaded plane crash all over again, the feeling of looking back into the sky to see falling pieces of fire...
"Dash." Spoken louder this time, meant to rouse him from sleep. He almost didn't hear it, not with the image of falling fire etched in his mind, and the screams...
His eyes snapped open when his shoulders started shaking. Helen was looking at him, motherly concern flooding her gaze, her hand warm on his back. He lifted his head from the math book and rubbed his face, feeling the blazing heat on one side and the cool flesh on the other. He released a tired sigh. "What time is it?"
"Almost nine."
Dash looked at the clock with drowsy eyes. He'd been asleep for half an hour.
"I figured you be late for dinner, but I knew it wasn't like you to forget. I had a feeling you'd be asleep. You looked warn-out when you got home."
Leaning back in his chair, he looked over his math homework, thankful he hadn't drooled on the pages. He saw a tray sitting next to it. Steaming soup with some toasted bread and a glass of water. He gave her a small smile. "Thanks, mom."
She paused and looked him over for a moment. "You got back late, didn't you?"
He ran a hand through his hair. "About forty-five minutes or so. Mr. Singer wasn't going to give me another chance until I begged him to. I have to get both of these pages done before the first bell tomorrow." he placed both hands on the pages to emphasize his point.
"How did you leave class?"
"I, uh..." he suddenly weakened under her gaze. "I asked to go to the bathroom. Again."
A puff of breath made its way through her lips. "The bathroom, huh?"
"I couldn't think of anything! It was the first thing that came into my head."
"Obviously it's the first thing that comes into your head every time you're called."
"I never know how serious the situation is. I just think about getting out there to help you guys."
Fondly, she ran a few fingers into his hair, trying to tame the wild strands that rebelled against their place when he slept. "Well, I'll call the school tomorrow and give them a story. If you were in the bathroom we might have to say you're coming down with something."
"Haven't we used that before?"
"Not in a while. You used to get back on time."
"Jack never needed to be dropped off before now."
"That reminds me - he said something about you dropping him off today. That you told him to turn into a puddle because you didn't have enough time to stop?"
His form bent, suddenly sheepish under his mother's gaze. "I was in a hurry."
"Well, he wanted to let you know that's exactly what he did. Fortunately, you must have thrown him when you let go, because he landed in front of the steps to the school. He was able to make his way inside with little trouble." A smile fell on her face. "He said he had to avoid a mop on his way to the bathrooms."
"A mop?" he chuckled. "I would have loved to see that. Serves him right for talking to the press alone."
They smiled at each over, Helen with a smirk and Dash with a grin that mirrored his fathers. "I'll see to it that he gets to school from now on. For right now, you're going to stay home tomorrow so your teachers can be convinced."
"What about my other classes?"
"I'll get your homework, but you've got your assignment for Mr. Singer to work on now." Helen studied his face filling with disappointment. "You know, most kids your age would be singing a mothers praises if she let them take a day off of school."
"I like school." he said quietly. "It's just hard having a life like this every day. I mean, I love being apart of The Incredibles, but I never thought I would miss school, too."
"Your father hated school. He told me a story once where he took a day off so he could go fight crime. His parents were furious after that."
The room fell into a thick sheet of silence. The two were quiet for a moment, losing the will to talk that they once had just a moment ago. Ten years had done little to ease the pain of the family. Helen scanned his room, her eyes landing on a few pictures he had on his dresser - a dinner where Dash had a mouthful of food while his father laughed in the background, Violet's high school graduation, and a national basketball tournament where Dash stood holding a metal, his eyes filled with pain at Bob's death only a few days earlier - along with a few drawings for The Dash he had tacked on the wall. Her eyes landed on a familiar poster and she grinned slightly. "Where'd that come from?"
Dash looked at her and turned to the poster hanging over his bed. It was a framed poster of Mr. Incredible from his glory days, superimposed over a sunset-like background, his smile and eyes full of life. Nothing was written on it, though no words were needed. He really was, as the poster depicted, a larger-than-life hero.
"Oh uh, I found that on the wall when we were getting his things out of here when I was moving in and, uh, put it in the closet so no one would move it."
"I never noticed it there before."
"I only put it up in the last few days." he paused, watching her face to see if she was offended in any way by it being up there. "Do you think he would mind?"
Her eyes scanned the face of Mr. Incredible, a small smile forming at his question. "No, Dash. I think he would have been proud to know you wanted it. Out of all the things he had, that," she pointed at the poster. "was one of his favorites."
He joined her in staring at the poster, not knowing who took the picture or what his father had done before then, and not really caring. "Do you think he would have been proud of us? Of me and Violet and Jack?"
Helen turned to him, a smile gracing her features. "There is nothing on earth that could contain how proud he would be. He was just happy knowing his family fought with him, just as it should have been." She stared at his smile, marveling over how much he looked like Bob. Just as quickly, her eyes took in the homework sitting on his desk. "Eat your dinner then get to bed, Dash. You need to get some sleep."
He turned to his books and grabbed his pencil. "I'm gonna finish these last couple of problems. I promise I'll be in bed before ten."
She nodded and put an arm around his shoulders. She removed it when he gasped and dropped his pencil, grabbing his arm. "What is it?"
He tenderly rubbed the spot. "A bullet bounced off me today. I guess the robber was closer than I thought."
She lifted his shirt sleeve, eyes widening at the bruise and swollen skin. "I'll say. I'll bring you some ice."
"Thanks." he said, taking hold of her hand. He held it for a moment before pulling her closer, allowing her to bend over and wrap her arms around his neck while he squeezed her arm. Sympathy flooded over him. While it was hard for his siblings to bear the tragedy, his mother had taken it the worst, locking herself in her room in the early days to sob uncontrollably. He remembered the day it first happened, along with the other days she would repeat it, and told himself afterward that he would be not only her son, but a shoulder or open arms if she needed it. Talking about it always put her in that mood, it seemed. He let her go and watched her walk towards the door, a hand heading towards her face to wipe away a tear he couldn't see.
"Mom?"
She stopped at the open door.
"Everything's going to be okay."
She took a deep breath and released it with a shudder, glancing over her shoulder at her son. "I know."
She closed the door behind her and made her way back upstairs to the kitchen, intent on washing the dishes she had used earlier. She turned on the faucet and set her trembling hands on the sink, doing her best to fight back tears that threatened to fall.
"Everything's going to be okay."
"I know."
She shouldn't have lied to her son, but it was the only way she could assure him that everything would be okay. He would could get over this someday.
She had the dreaded feeling that she would deal with it to the end of her days.