A/N: Yay! Second chappy of my newest Incredibles fic! Be excited:looks around: Aw, whaddya mean, you're not going to get excited about a piece of crap like this:cries: J/K! And now for review responses…
SGXOXO: I was thinking of you when I wrote this… I know how much you love S/M and I do too, and then I got this idea in Journalism and I was like, "Oh, Syndrome'sGirlXOXO will be going nuts when she sees this…" So hopefully this has enough romantic gushiness between Syndrome and Mirage to make you happy!
Darth Luminous: :shrugs: Mirage has literally zero background info, so we know nothing for certain about her. In my humble opinion, she deserves some superpowers. I just think it would be so amazingly ironic that Syndrome would date a Super, and I dig irony. Plus most people hate OC stories, and I'm almost positive Syndrome would go after a Super, so then I have to make up an OC for him to fall in love with, and then everyone says, "Oh, not another one of THOSE stupid fanfics," and I cry hot tears of sorrow. You see how complicated it all is? Plus this is fanfiction and you can sort of do what you want. :shrugs again: But whatever floats your submarine, right?
- - - - - - - - -
Downtown Metroville. It is not exactly the perfect place to exercise her power, but it doesn't matter to her now. She knows what she can do - perhaps, what she must do.
Syndrome had been impressed by her powers when she had first handed herself over to him. She was the stepdaughter of one of his numerous lackeys - a man no longer in the employ of Syndrome, Inc. Her stepfather had not been a man of honor. Mirage had been a nuisance to him. She cost money, since he was putting her through college, and she cost time, since he had to play the father role, and these were two things that he was most certainly not willing to give to her. And so he had brought her to Syndrome, throwing her at the mercy of a Super-hating maniac whose plan was to wipe all of the "mutants" off the face of the earth.
She had been lucky, she supposes, that she was as attractive as she was. She had been lucky that she truly hated - and still hates - the Supers, herself included. She had been lucky that this combination had been enough to convince Syndrome that she was a worthwhile addition to his corporation.
He would not be nearly so generous with Supers to come.
There were a few other Supers working for Syndrome, but mostly they kept their powers a secret except when he'd required them for missions. He'd never asked to use Mirage's power. He'd never dared. Her powers were too dangerous, the implications too threatening. She had used them only rarely, for fear of the cost, should she make a mistake.
But now it was time to use them again.
Time, Mirage knows, is in itself a mirage, like her. There are multiple facets and dimensions to Time. There are gullies and valleys and peaks and, most importantly, rifts, gaping holes where things could have been, but aren't.
Mirage could find these rifts, open them a little wider, and then step in and fill them with an alternate reality - itself an illusion that made what had actually happened disappear and altered reality completely so that nobody even knew there'd been a change in events.
Time travel. It was impossible, she'd been told, ever since she was a girl. She'd always hungered to prove everyone wrong. And, in a way, she had, with her strange superpower - her ability to manipulate and alter events to her own advantage. She could kill if she wanted and no one would know. She could save lives.
Most importantly, she could bring people back from the dead.
If one relies upon mere technicality, one might point out that her ability to alter time did not make her so powerful as to make people rise from the grave. She would go back in time; therefore, the person never died.
Technicalities are not important to Mirage, at least not at the moment. There is a man whom she wants to live, more desperately than she has ever wanted anything, and she will find a way to save him, no matter what it takes. She will give him the glory and power and heroism he seeks - anything, to return him to the world of the living. She will forgive him his transgression against her life. She will not betray him ever again, just so long as he is safe on Nomanisan.
She walks to the center of Metroville, by several tall skyscrapers. There is damage here that will take much time to mend, havoc wreaked by the Omnidroid that Syndrome so lovingly crafted. She studies the world around her, and then closes her eyes tightly to shut out everything but the soft whisper of Time passing her by.
It is a quiet noise, like silken sheets swishing softy across a cold, marble floor. No one but Mirage can hear it; she is Time's Mistress, able to feel its eddies and currents, and able to harness its raw energy and force it to obey her will. She seeks, now, the Rift, the opening, that will allow her to dive into the past and return her lover to life.
It comes at her, yawning, gaping, a deep swirling vortex, and suddenly all around her is deathly quiet. She reaches out mentally, and grabs at the edge of the Rift, clinging to it almost desperately. It halts, shudders fitfully against her grip, and then seems to relax, to open wider.
Time stops.
Mirage opens her eyes briefly. Everyone around her is utterly frozen, as though someone has pressed "pause" on the video screen. Mirage smiles. So far, so good. She closes her eyes again and mentally begins to climb through the rift, into the dark abyss.
And the past flickers by her like a whirlwind.
- - - - - - - - -
The jet un-erupts. Syndrome is spat back out the engines and swings back into the cabin. The Incredibles are watching in horror as their son suddenly reappears in Syndrome's arms, and then he slides down into the air, back into the house. The hole in the roof fixes itself. The Incredibles disappear back into their home, and then suddenly run out the door towards the limo that brought them there.
Time moves on.
- - - - - - - - -
Syndrome is lying on a rooftop. He is unconscious, his eyes closed painfully tight. His hair dangles in his face, and he remains blissfully ignorant of the fact that he is being defeated, even now - and also of the fact that someone is trying to allow him victory.
The moment ends.
- - - - - - - - -
He is laughing wickedly to himself, departing the cell containing the Incredibles. A grin is crossing his face, and he eagerly strides towards the landing pad where his jet awaits to take him away to Metroville. He passes employees, all excited and anxiously awaiting the culmination of their plans. Syndrome pauses to speak to a few of them, and then continues walking. He graces a few guards with a genial wave. They all smile back.
Syndrome passes by a small room in the hallway. The door is opened, and through it can be seen a large picture window facing the sea and the landing pad where his jet is waiting, several guards pacing impatiently back and forth, back and forth. A small, elegant figure is standing in front of the window, staring out. He stops and stares at the figure.
It's Mirage, waiting for him to leave. The triumphant smirk fades from his face, and he hesitates, watching her with a tenderness that might have moved her, if she would have seen it. But she is not looking at him. She knows he is there, but she chooses to ignore his presence for the moment; she is still enraged that he appears to value her so little. She is silently hoping he'll keep walking, that she won't have to speak to him, but he makes up his mind and enters the room with a telltale clacking of boots on the metal floor and a swishing of the cape that will become his doom. "Mir," he says softly, coming to stand beside her.
She glances at him, her posture stiff and formal. "Yes, sir?" she says coldly.
He flinches at her tone, and the way she hurls his title at him as though it were a deadly missile. "I'm leaving for Metroville," he informs her, attempting to ignore her attitude. "Wish me luck."
She turns away. "You don't need luck," she says somewhat bitterly. "You can't be defeated. We've planned too much for that."
Syndrome is obviously unsure how to respond to this; but he wants to say good-bye to her. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, how much she really does mean to him; how, sometimes, this evil little part of his mind just overtakes him and he has to hold on to this ridiculous idea of revenge and no matter what he does he cannot, he will not, let go - but there are no words, no time, for that now. He trusts that there will be time later. Just a little reassurance, he tells himself, and when I get back I can explain everything.
He catches her around her tiny waist and pulls her into his arms. She looks up at him, startled. He's been so busy recently, plotting away, that he's showed her almost no signs of affection. She makes a small attempt to resist, but only a small one. She's missed him; she can't deny it, much as she would currently like to.
He bends over and kisses her forehead lightly, not daring to go near her lips just yet. She's still angry. She still needs space. He understands, much as he does not want to. "I love you," he whispers, hiding his face in her platinum blonde hair for a moment. "So much…"
Somewhat relieved, somewhat angry, she pushes him away and turns her back to him, staring resolutely out the window. "Do you?" she questions cynically. "You certainly fooled me."
He stares at her back, baby blue eyes wide with hurt. He wishes he could explain to her now - in fact, he opens his mouth, preparing to do just that - he still has time to get to Metroville, doesn't he? But a guard in gray appears in the doorway and enters. "Sir," he says somewhat testily, "We need to be going soon. Otherwise we run the risk of being too late."
Syndrome's hands clench tightly into fists. He knows how important it is to make Mirage understand - but his plans - his plans are about to reach culmination! He can't just leave them now!
He nods shortly and hesitates a few seconds, waiting for Mirage to say something more. She does not oblige him. He sighs angrily and turns on his heel, storming out of the room. He stomps down the hall, determined not to let Mirage's mood ruin his victory, and goes to the very jet that will end his life.
He does not know. He will never know.
The Rift stops spinning, and Mirage steps out.
- - - - - - - - -
She is now standing in front of a large picture window, staring at the blue ocean ahead of her. Below is the landing platform that she just saw Syndrome walk out to. But that has not happened yet. Things will be different, now. She can warn him of the danger his robot poses, and then he will defeat it, and there will be no need for this fight with the Incredibles, and the final explosion of his jet. She waits, and she waits, and she waits.
For a few horrible seconds she thinks that he will not appear, but then the familiar clacking of boots sounds behind her. She is so relieved to hear the reverberation that tears spring to her eyes - Thank God, he's still alive! - and then she wipes them away with the back of her hand. He won't understand why she's crying, and she won't want to explain.
The sound of his boots stop for a moment, and then he enters the room, coming to stand beside her.
"Mir?"
His voice sounds more questioning, more plaintive, than Mirage recalls it sounding before. Maybe she is simply hearing and seeing things differently, now that she knows his life is resting in her hands.
She turns to look at him and feels her heart swell as he steps a little closer and her eyes take in his masked face, his baby blue eyes, the freckles spilling out from beneath the black of his mask. You're alive! … I can't believe you're standing here with me… "Leaving?" she asks softly, although of course she knows the answer. She steps a little closer.
Syndrome seems to take this as a good sign and looks cautiously optimistic. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I'm going in. Wish me luck!"
Mirage smiles. "I always do," she promises.
He grins, an adorable, boyish grin. "So… I take it you're not angry at me anymore?" he says hopefully.
Mirage shrugs. "Upset, maybe," she tells him. "But I'll get over it." As long as you're still here… as long as I can keep you alive, or at least tell you good-bye…
His smile widens at her words, and he embraces her warmly. "Good," he says. "I was really worried for awhile. I've really missed you, you know. I'm sorry I've been so busy and everything… I promise everything will be better when I get back."
Mirage cuddles against his shoulder, happy beyond words; but she still has to warn him - otherwise she has done all this for nothing. "Buddy?"
He must sense that she has something very important to say, because he does not correct her use of his given name. "Yes?" he asks quietly.
She pulls back slightly so that she can look him in the eyes. "Don't forget what you've built," she warns. "As I told Mr. Incredible - as you yourself told me - it's a learning robot. Once it realizes that you're controlling it, it may retaliate."
He nods slowly, taking in the information she has just given him.
Mirage leans forward and presses her lips to his. "Be careful," she commands. "Come back to me a hero."
He smiles brilliantly, his face flushed and eyes glowing with excitement. "I will," he promises. "Oh, believe me, I will."
He kisses her again. She doesn't remember ever feeling this happy in a long, long time. She cuddles closer to him and is about to deepen the kiss when someone clears his throat.
Syndrome pulls back from her and glances at the doorway. A guard in a gray uniform is standing there, trying and failing to suppress a grin. "Sorry, sir," he says apologetically. "But we'd better be heading out. We don't want to be late."
Syndrome nods absentmindedly and gives Mirage a final look before stepping back from her and walking out the door. His cape swishes dramatically behind him, and Mirage smiles, knowing how much he loves that sound, and that feeling.
She turns back to the window and waits, watching for the jet that will take him away to whatever fate awaits him.
She can only pray that it will be different than the last.