C h a p t e r 3
M e G u s t a s T u

"Que voy a hacer, je ne sais pas.

Que voy a hacer, je ne sais plus.

Que voy a hacer, je suis perdu.

Que horas son, mi corazóns"

Manu-Chao

When Dash got home later that day his parents, Violet and Jack-Jack were all sitting by the dining table. He waved at them as he got in and proceeded to sit on his own chair. Though something didn't feel quite right in that room, he could feel it. Dash looked around, wondering just what his older sister and younger brother seemed to be waiting so excitedly for, they looked like they were about to burst.

Dash turned his attention to his parents. Bob was quietly chewing his food, which was unnatural of him, and Helen was glaring at him. That could only mean one thing:

"Did I do something wrong?" Dash muttered without really wishing an answer.

"That's what we would liked to know." His mother crossed her arms angrily.

"Well, I didn't." he shuddered.

"How do you explain not being home until seven every day after school, then?" Helen insisted, looking angrier every second. Violet pretended to cut her meat, but she couldn't hide her smile of satisfaction.

"I've done nothing wrong, mom, believe me!" Dash answered, trying to look as hurt as possible. "I even thought you'd be proud of me…"

Helen acted like a 'strong' mother, but truth was, she always wanted her children to be happy. Seeing Dash so disappointed must have triggered her motherly side, because her frown was gone and a caring smiled appeared.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just wanted you to share with us what's going on in your life. We're your family and we care." She said.

Dash gave a faint smile, pleased to know his drama classes were finally paying off.

"I never meant to hide anything from you, mom, I swear." He said. "Don't worry, you'll all know soon what I've been doing and you're gonna like it a lot! 'Promise!"


The two kids standing across the street were slowly getting on Syndrome's nerves. They were approaching the house a bit every half an hour. That didn't mean much at first, but time passed; soon Tyler and Jake were only a few feet away from the fence.

Syndrome carefully walked into the living room, making sure he couldn't be seen, and sat right under the window, close enough to hear the boys talking.

"I did not skip class, something terribly important to me and my future, just to stand here pretending to be a tree!" the thinner of the two said, crossing his arms. "'Sides, we've to know what Dash's been doing in that house."

"I think we should trust him and not go in there." The chubby one said, gulping. "I don't like that house. It looks haunted… and I'm a ghost-phobic, Tyler!"

Tyler rolled his eyes and grabbed Jake by the wrist. "We are going in!"

"No we're not! Please!" Jake pleaded.

They were really coming in; Syndrome had to think of something fast. He couldn't lure the boys away without showing himself or making the house seem even more haunted— which would blow Dash's cover of saying the place was empty.

If he couldn't make the two go away, then Syndrome would have to keep them in. He was avoiding that technique from the very start, but he was desperate and in a lack of other options.

Tyler dragged his friend Jake up to the front porch and then let go of his wrist. He clapped his hands and, with a long sigh, he turned the doorknob to open the door and reveal the living room.

"Well, it's kind of wrecked, but not haunted." Tyler said, cockily putting his hands on his waist. "See, Jake? It's not like there's anything dangerous in-"

Syndrome grabbed both of Tyler's arms and pulled him in. Before he could have any reaction, Syndrome pasted a large piece of duct tape over his mouth. Jake, instead of running, froze and kept staring wide eyed at Syndrome. He pulled the second boy in a sealed his mouth with tape.

"This is to teach you not to always believe your friends." Syndrome said with a grin.

Tyler was trying to make Jake stand up and run, but the chubby boy was still paralyzed.

"Just because he knows everything at school doesn't mean he knows everything about the world." Syndrome continued, stepping closer to the boys. "Now," he clapped his hands. "Am I going to have to chase you and then tie you up, or will you spare me of the running?"

Tyler let go of his friends hand and turned to window, but before he could even think of jumping out of it, Syndrome had sprung forward, pulled the boy's arms behind his back and tied them together with more tape.

"Thank you!" Syndrome laughed, pushing the boy the ground to tie his feet.

Syndrome turned around and wasn't surprised to see Jake was still there, eyes filled with tears and sweating heavily.

"You know what! You take away all the fun of making prisoners." He shook his head disappointedly.


Dash knew he had to be more careful from that point on. His parents had noticed something was up, as usual. That was not too much of problem, as long as he could keep them from finding out about Bud; he planned on telling them, of course, though he had to wait for the right moment.

The first day of school after his "chat" with Bud about who he was, friendship and proving himself, turned out to be worse than Dash thought it would be. He had spent the entire night planning how he would act and what to say, but it was all useless.

Dash was an outgoing boy and had no trouble expressing his feelings… until the day before. He had put so much responsibility on being the best on his shoulders that things only got harder to manage. When one of the "popular kids" Dash wanted to befriend walked by, he froze. He wasn't nervous or insecure; he just stood there and forgot all he kept telling himself for over twelve hours.

Sleep deprivation had been, for the first time in Dash's over hyperactive life, a problem.

To make matters worse, neither Jake nor Tyler had shown up for school, and that concerned Dash more than his family's suspicion. His so called "friends" were spotted by him and Bud the day before, spying on the house.

The moment the bell rang at three o'clock PM, Dash rushed as fast as he could—yet without looking suspiciously fast—out of the classroom. After making sure he was on an emptier street, Dash applied full speed and got to Bud's house in no time. There was no one standing near the house. That was both a good and a bad sign.

He knocked on the door a few times, calling for Bud. When he started getting annoying, Dash simply opened the door and went in.

"Bud? Are you home?" he called again, walking to the stairs. "Are you up there? I have to talk to you… it's really important!"

Still no answer.

Dash was about to make his way upstairs when he heard a creaking noise behind him. He turned around and found Bud standing there, waving slowly.

"Hey there. Sorry I took so long, I was doing something." He said, lowering his hand.

"Oh, you're okay!" Dash sighed in relief. "When Jake and Tyler missed school today I thought it had something to do with you."

Bud turned his back to Dash and slowly made his way to the kitchen, without a word. When he finally reached the table, he pulled chair and sat down.

"Well, thankfully you were wrong." Bud smiled, his mouth now uncovered with bandages.

Dash grinned. "You're wearing less of those things every day, that's nice."

"Oh, these?" he touched his bandaged face. "They make me feel safe, as I told you before. But a little freedom is always nice." Bud let out a long sigh. "Being tied up to a routine is so… boring. So…" he paused, trying to find the correct word.

"Not fun." Dash completed, still from the living room. Bud nodded slowly.

"Yes, life gets 'not fun' if everything is too safe and perfectly planned." He grinned. "Don't you think?"

"Sort of." Dash looked up, still disappointed with his own behaviour that day. "We plan how to do things, but they always turn out different. I mean," he shuddered, looking back at Bud. "What's the point?"

Bud nodded. "Indeed."

A brief moment of silence followed. Dash was still apprehensively watching Bud, wondering why that man was so mysterious. He must have his reasons, Dash thought, not sure why Bud would hardly every share much about himself.

Dash had been telling things non-stop since he walked into that house. Why was Bud still so silent? There had to be a way to prove Dash truly cared about Bud and wanted to know every single thing about him. Suddenly, an idea struck Dash.

"So, Bud… 'still wanting to do something wild? Change your routine?" he suggested. Bud was emotionless.

"What?"

"I know it might not seem like much, but… why don't we go watch a movie?"

Bud kept silent for a moment, submersed in his thoughts. He scratched his chin and tapped his feet on the floor, as if having an internal fight with himself. Dash gave a silly smile, trying to make the atmosphere in the room less heavy.

Bud finally sighed and threw his arms up.

"Yeah, what the hell." He said, not sounding very excited; but Dash didn't even think of turning back, he was willing to make Bud a little upset, as long as he could take some information out of him.


Going out to watch a movie with a fourteen year old boy who was only supposed to be bait? That didn't sound good at all for Syndrome. But as he analyzed some other possibilities of how he could take advantage of that situation, Syndrome decided it was worth the shot. After all, Dash wouldn't be inviting him for no reason. He wanted something, and Syndrome had to find out what exactly that was.

He grabbed his longer, hooded dark coat and put it onbeing found out was something he could not afford.

The day was warm and the sun was shining like never before, perhaps even a tad too brightly for autumn. Syndrome hated hot days; they made him sweaty and terribly moody. The sun bothered him even more on that day in particular. He hadn't been out for so long that his eyes could barely see in all that brightness.

Syndrome tried squeezing his eyes and then covering them with the back of his hand, but it wasn't working very well. He was about to lose his temper and openly curse, when Dash appeared in front of him holding a pair of sunglasses.

"There you go." He said, handing the glasses to Syndrome, who moodily nodded to show some appreciation.

The walk to the theatre was by far one of the longest and tensest in Syndrome's entire life. Not only then sun decided to toy with him, but he kept getting odd looks from passer-bys. That started reminding him a little too much of his High School days, though before he could get even moodier and nostalgic, he felt Dash's hand wrapping on his right arm and leading him to the line so they could get tickets.

Syndrome just nodded again when Dash asked which of the movies he would like to watch and simply followed the boy around. Dash bought some popcorn and then finally decided to look for good seats.

To Syndrome's surprise, the theatre was rather full of familiar sorts of people. Teenagers wearing t-shirts with a very superhero-ish looking man; muscular and handsome, posing more like a movie star than a hero, wearing a black mask and a cape "like every superhero should". There were even some dressed up as that man, which only made the scenery more familiar.

They were all chatting loudly to each other, showing off their merchandise and trying to come out as the "biggest fan". Yes, he was very familiar with that. He had once been one of those kids, worshipping his "god".

But in all those years admiring someone else, Syndrome knew he had forgotten about who he was and what he was capable of. Only when he finally got reject by a arrogant superhero, he realized it was time to have a purpose of his own instead of living off someone else's. And he was very proud of his choice and ready to stick to it until the very end.

Syndrome followed Dash until the last row of sits. He picked the only sit against the wall so he wouldn't have to deal with some fanboy blinded by some random man with a pointy chin and slimy blonde hair; the only thing he wanted to concentrate on that day was his goal.

Dash quietly sat beside him, getting handfuls of popcorn and anxiously stuffing them in his mouth. Syndrome watched the boy with amusement and waited until he finally noticed. Dash withdrew his hand from the popcorn and cleared his throat.

"You… want some?" he shyly asked Syndrome, who simply shook his head.

"I was just wondering what made you so… nervous." He explained, removing his sunglasses as the lights in the theatre slowly faded. "That's all." He carefully placed the glasses in his coat's pocket.

"I... well…" Dash twirled his nose in frustration and sighed. "Screw it. I'll just be honest." He breathed deeply and turned his body entirely to Syndrome. "I don't know anything about you, Bud! And I really want to. You say things about us being friends but…" he gestured frantically, trying to express something he couldn't.

So that's what this is all about… little Parr boy is getting fond of me, Syndrome thought, surprised that he had caused such and effect so soon.

"I understand, Dash, please don't drag this any longer." He politely said, placing a hand on Dash's left shoulder. "I'd really like to tell you more about me, but there isn't much to know. And what really matters here is you, not me. So why care about my boring life?"

That was ought to do the trick to some else, but not to Dash.

"Well, I care and I want to know about you. This isn't all about me, my life is just as boring as yours. We just happened to meet in a very strange moment, that's all." Dash sat up straight in his seat and turned his attention back to the movie, which was about to begin. "A very strange moment."

"Then let's make it less strange. Tell me about you."

"No, you tell me about you, Bud!" Dash protested, slightly more aggressively than usual. "I really want to know."

Syndrome sighed loudly, making up a silly little story he would turn into his life. "I was born on-"

"Excuse me!" Said a boy with a high pitched voice, bright orange hair and large blue eyes sitting in front of them. He were huge braces that wouldn't let him close his mouth… or keep drool from coming out of the corners of his lips. "I was wondering which clan you two are supporters of? We plan on separating the theatre in clans during the beginning of the War, as seen in issue one hundred and eighty five part eight of the 'Endurance' saga."

Syndrome raised an eyebrow, wondering who had put a talking mirror in front of him. Dash was about to speak up, but Syndrome cut the boy off.

"We are part of none." He answered.

"None? That is not possible, sir." The boy paused to suck some drool back into his mouth. "As clearly stated on issue twenty three every citizen of Bigville must have a clan and-"

"We have no clan. We don't care about what is 'clearly stated'. We think you should stop worshipping fictional characters who have never, don't and will never exist. Ever. And we think you turn around before we start playing 'Who can stuff more popcorn in your mouth'." Syndrome shot an angry glare and waited the now scared boy turn around.

Dash's jaw was slightly hanging loose. "Cool."

"Just doing what I believe is right." Syndrome felt his horrible mood taking control once more.

"So if the boy's a little obsessed with a comic book? He'll get over it." Dash shuddered.

Syndrome turned to him with a cold look in his face. "What if he doesn't?"


When Dash invited Bud to watch a movie with him he thought it would be a great chance to find out more about that mysterious man. But no matter how hard he tried, Dash only managed to make matters worse.

He had never seen Bud with such a piercing, almost terrifying, look in his face. They had known one another for a very short time, but Dash could already tell when his friend was acting oddly.

"Even so, what harm could he do? Not even fifty year old Trekkies ever hurt anyone." Dash insisted, pushing his luck too far.

"Apparently you haven't met many obsessive compulsive fanboys." Bud shot back. His eyes were directed to the screen, though he wasn't really watching the movie. Bud was thinking of something, and Dash would love to know what.

Dash knew exactly what to answer. After all, he had known an obsessive compulsive man once—Syndrome. But that was a secret he couldn't go telling anyone, he first had to trust that person immensely, and then make sure his family felt the same way.

When he analyzed his own dilemma, Dash realized Bud could be going through the exact same thing. They had shared many things before, though never anything huge and very important. If he wanted Bud to tell him all the truth about himself, Dash would have to tell his own truth.

That, however, wouldn't be such an easy task.

"Uh, Bud?" he faintly called, biting his lips and trying to find a something to focus his attention on.

"Yes?" Bud answered.

"Well… you see… I understand why you won't tell me anything." Dash decided to look right at Bud, no matter how tough it'd be. He took a deep breath and spoke as fast as he could… though not intentionally. "I know that I've never told you any of my biggest secrets, so yeah, how could I except you to tell me any of yours! Hah, I'm a hypocrite. Sorry about that! What you want to know? Ask me, I answer. Then I ask and you answer. Then you ask and I answer! You know! Then I…"

Dash chuckled uncomfortably, looking down to his lap, as Bud eyed him confusedly.

"You… didn't get a word I said, did you?" Dash asked. Bud simply shook his head.

"I understood what you meant. You want us to share a deeper bond… to know all there is to know about the each other. It is, indeed, not very simple." He made a brief pause, which almost made Dash lose all his hope, and started talking again. "For you, that is. I have nothing to hide from you because I trust you blindly, Dash. The question is… Do you trust me?"

Dash's eyes widened slightly as he made the same question to himself: 'Do I trust Bud?' The answer, at first, was rather simple: 'Yes, I do,' However, there was always a little "but" to mess things up. ', but for how long?'

Dash didn't trust anyone but his family, he never did. Sometimes it felt like anyone would betray him when the chance arrived. He had never proved that theory either, for he had never even tried to believe in anyone's word.

That, he realized, was the perfect time to do so. Risk something important in order to get another thing that would be even greater: confidence in his judgement.

"I trust you, Bud, I really do. But sometimes it seems like you don't." Dash answered.

"I not only trust you too, I really admire you." Bud nodded. "This conviction and braveness you've got… it's all amazing. You challenged me even when I was extremely rude to you."

"I knew that you didn't mean to be rude. I mean… you'd never do something bad to me." Dash smiled. He put his popcorn aside to free his right hand and place it over Bud's. "I can feel that."

Bud seemed reluctant at first, only after a few seconds he finally smiled back.

"So…" Bud sighed. "What do you want to know?"

Dash's smile widened. "Everything! Tell me your life!" he cheerfully said.

"Sounds fair if you tell me yours…" Bud added.

"No problem." Dash shuddered. He was ready to tell his biggest secret to a man he hardly knew, but for some reason it didn't feel as wrong as it sounded. "I live with my parents, my older sister and my younger brother. We are apparently pretty normal, except that… well… we're all supers."

Bud grinned, showing a lot of interest, and with a drawlingly voice said: "Really?"


For some reason this chapter is slightly funnier than the other two, maybe because when I get moody in real life I put out my frustration in my fics; that explains why the "jokes" aren't exactly funny, just disturbing.

Something else that is different about this chapter is… It's a lot longer than I intended it to be. :D Which is a good thing, if you think of how long it's been since my last update!

Very well… THE SLASH IS COMING! And when it does, the rating will go up to R. I didn't want to do that, because it practically means "Let's take my fic off the front page and put it in a section NO ONE REALLY CARES ABOUT." Fanfiction . net should re-consider putting R rated fics in a different section so everyone has to switch the rating filter to "All" or "R" in order to see that sort of fics. Oh well. No one ever said this was an entirely fair fanfiction community (And God knows it is NOT!), right?

Anyhow, the next chapter will probably come out sooner, I promise. :)

And, finally…

Thanks to all the wonderful reviews/reviewers! You make my days so much merrier every time!

Spikes Girl5,

selbidercnI,

WormmonABC,

Syndrome Fan Project Kronos,

A Person Who Cares...,

dKiWi,

ShadowWalker NightCrawler,

SailorEevee!

THIS CHAPTER IS PROBABLY FULL OF MISTAKES HERE AND THERE, THAT'S BECAUSE I DON'T GIVE MY STORIES FOR ANYONE TO BETA-READ. I'M HUMAN AND I MAKE MISTAKES, SO BEAR WITH ME. THANKS:)