It's a bit dark
But thanks for the reviews
Thanks soccergurl1990, FutureFanatic, Maggie, Nny11 and Angie King
I'm really sorry about dropping Frozone in peril
But I think you should know
I just don't do sad endings.
I'm a happy ending person, all the way.
Please bear that in mind while you read the rest of the fic
And thanks again, I really appreciate those reviews
Enjoy! Love LJ xXx
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Throw Me. Chapter Twelve. Mala Fide
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Helen steps out from the kitchen, Violet ventures down the hall, forgetting all her worries about Tony.
"He's alive," Bob says with a smile and a shrug. Helen breathes a relieved laugh as her body catches up to her head.
"He's alive," she grins back.
"What time is it? I'm heading down to the burnt-down place we were at yesterday morning. 1 am. We're gonna get him back." Bob beams.
"1 am? Are you serious?" Violet pipes up, incredulously.
"Vi – darkness is the best cover anyone could ask for," Helen speaks calmly. "If you're going to bust a super, or anyone, out of anywhere, night would be best."
"This isn't just a bit suspicious, though?" Violet persists. "I don't know if I..."
"You're not going." Helen cuts her off sharply, shocked at the idea that she even considered it.
"Honey, you know, it'd be better if you didn't, either." Bob adds. Helen turns on him with her eyes blazing.
"What?"
"It's just that, Vi's right. If this is at all not what it seems, we can't leave the kids at home."
"Right, so I'm staying at home and watching the kids, is that it?" Helen snaps. Bob shrinks slightly, but stands his ground.
"Please, honey, you gotta think about this. And what happened yesterday."
"That was yesterday. And why should it be you? Why should I be the one to stay at home and look after the kids?"
"You make it sound like a bad thing," Dash mumbles grumpily and Bob and Helen stop in their argument, realising Vi and Dash are still there.
Bob sighs. "Listen everybody, I'm going tonight, alone." He says it so pointedly and so firmly that it ends the conversation.
It's an even greater task than usual trying to usher the two eldest Parr children into bed that night, especially since Helen is slightly more uncooperative tonight. Even when they manage to send them to bed and stay there, at half past midnight, both doors creak open and Violet and Dash creep out into the silent house.
The source of the silence and tension appears to be in the living room where Bob sits on the sofa, geared up and ready to go. Helen sits opposite him, in her dressing gown and she stares at the clock above his head, saying nothing. He looks at her often but she pretends not to notice and coldly does not return the look.
"Helen – " he breaks the silence awkwardly. "What is this about? It's not about gender stereotypes or anything like that anymore, is it? Is it because of what happened yesterday? Is that it?"
"Wait." she says suddenly and then raises her voice. "Vi, Dash, you're supposed to be in bed."
Violet and Dash reluctantly show themselves.
"We just wanted to see you, Dad, before you went to get Lucius," Dash explains with his innocent expression.
"Well, okay. But I'm going now, so go to bed, kids. I'll see you in the morning." He smiles at them before heading for the door.
"Good luck, Dad," Violet adds.
"Bye everyone," he calls quietly before closing the door gently behind him.
Helen says nothing but, after a pause, rises to her feet with a: "Time for bed, kids." and shuts off the light.
It's dark and it's cold and he's trying to be as quiet as he can. Old rushes of adrenaline pulse through his veins as Bob slips through the city while it sleeps. He arrives shortly at the smouldering scene and glances at his watch: right on time.
"'Zone?" he whispers into the dark, trying to be quiet.
He sticks to the sides of the walls and edges around the scene, professionally and carefully. He still hears his daughter's incredulous 'Are you serious?' echoing in his head. He always knew she was the more sensible one, the one to think out a situation like her mother rather than dive straight into it and hope for the best like he did. He suspects Dash might turn out like him as well: jump right into a mess and try to come out with style.
"Mr. Incredible?" Frozone's voice comes in the darkness. He sounds calm – that's a good sign.
Bob heads towards it and sees Frozone standing just behind to the burnt-up wreck.
He remembers the way Lucius' eyes were blank and empty and he realised then just how emotionless and dead his voice was. This was just before he felt a stinging pain at the back of his neck and he fell, face-first, into the ash covered floor. And passed out.
The next thing he knows, Bob wakens, tightly bound with some form of rope that just won't give when he tries to burst free. He struggles for a while and gives in to the horror that this material is like nothing he's ever known before; something made just with him in mind.
The room around him is dark. The floor is cold. Wires trail on the floor and various machines and equipment are scattered on the floor in disarray. Then he sees his friend slumped on the wall opposite.
"Lucius?" Bob croaks. Frozone looks up. His head is without the helmet and he looks tired and strained.
"Oh god, Bob – they got you too?" he sounds as he looks.
"Who is this? Who did this?" Bob hisses but, as if as an answer, someone steps from the shadows.
"No talking," orders the person. "No – talking." There is a metallic clang as the person leaves the room and then Frozone shakes his head.
"I'm so sorry, Bob. I'm so sorry," he says in a voice that cracks. He hangs his head and his shoulders begin to shake.
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