Comics, Cookies and Revenge
By Lejindarybunny
A/N: Good morning. sucks on coffee I put some art for ccr up at my gallery. Greer-the-raven .deviantart. com Go see it.
I am going to warn you that this is a very dark chapter possibly the darkest in the fic, and if anyone under the age of thirteen is reading this fic, that they might want to ask themselves just how mature they are and possibly seek entertainment elsewhere. Not that I want you to stop reading if you're twelve and having fun.
Line breaks still aren't working for me, so it's 000 again.
Disclaimer: The Incredibles, Syndrome, and all other affiliated characters are the property of Disney/Pixar. I'm not making any money off this (just losing sleep) so there's really no reason to try to sue me. Unless you really, really want my Sonic comic collection...
Chapter 9: The Piper and his Payment
The first thing Angelica Mitchell had done, after her first few hours of panic, had been to delete the goodbye message from Sharon's computer. Then she had called the police, making no mention of either it, nor any personal items missing from her room.
The police were treating it as kidnap, and that was exactly how Angelica wanted it. The note and the bag would have screamed 'runaway' to the police, and they never did anything about a runaway. Besides, as far as she was concerned, her daughter had been kidnapped. There was no reason for her to just up and leave.
She had felt especially justified in this assertion when an investigation of the coffee shop had turned up that Sharon had met a man there, one that none of the workers had seen around before. This man, whom occupants had described as red-haired and well dressed, was of course the police's prime suspect.
Yes, Angelica was confident that her daughter would be found. Some mothers became ineffective and hysterical when they were grief stricken, but not Sharon's mother, the key for her, to avoid an emotional breakdown was to keep busy, doing things to ensure her daughter's safe return, and not give herself a moment to reflect on what had occurred.
She had of course, phoned Sharon's school and told them to tell her classmates, in case any of them knew anything.
000The whole school was talking about it, Sharon Mitchell was missing. Had maybe been kidnapped. Was abducted by aliens. Etcetera.
And Violet Parr couldn't help feeling a tiny bit very, very bad. And worried.
She hadn't thought much about it when she'd gone to sit with Tony. Didn't really think that Sharon would care. After all, the girl was like four years older than she was, shouldn't she have friends in her own year? She'd thought all the older kids were friends with one another.
But Sharon had seemed really mad when Violet had talked to her yesterday. Okay, so maybe it was kinda rude to leave without telling her...
What if she'd run off and committed suicide or, or joined the circus or something?
When Violet had started middle school a year ago she hadn't known anybody. She had been very lost, and very alone. And very surprised when the high school girl had simply plunked herself down at Violet's empty table like it was completely socially accepted.
Okay, so they hadn't been best friends or anything, at least Violet hadn't thought so. She'd never been over to the older girl's house, or even hung out with her at all out of school. Not that her mom would have been comfortable with her hanging with a girl so much older than she was. And anyway, Sharon was way too boyish and loud for Violet to be totally at ease around her.
But for a year and a half they'd sat at the same lunch table. Was it really that big a deal when Violet up and left? And what was Sharon's issue that she got all angry when she had been invited to sit at the other table? Didn't she want people to like her? It wasn't as if the table was full of eighth graders, if that was her problem.
At the time Violet had felt like saying 'Fine, be that way', but later she'd started to feel like maybe she had been wrong. She had even made the decision to take a break from sitting with Tony, and sit with her again for today, if Sharon would let her.
Now she wasn't going to get a chance.
000
Vex snarled angrily at the control panel that blocked her way into the next level of the complex, as she tried to get back to the Security room where Syndrome was. The access code wasn't working! She didn't have time for this! Well, brute force had been working for her so far in this little emergency.
She punched the terminal with her glove, sending a jolt of electricity through it. The doors parted obligingly. She would celebrate her knew found violent solutions later. She dashed through the entryway, and down another flight of stairs.
What could Mikhail have done? Set off the death traps? Syndrome could handle these kind of things, right? Didn't they happen to him all the time? But usually he had all kinds of weapons and robots didn't he? Why hadn't he thrown Mikhail out as soon as he had looked suspicious? What the hell did the guy want, anyway?!
Vex hit the forth level, broke the terminal, and burst through the secret door into the security room.
000
Syndrome had not been expecting an attack. He had not been expecting the rest of the cameras to go dead, followed by a good three quarters of the computer monitors, leaving him in almost total darkness.
Then there were the little pairs of glowing red lights that winked on from every corner of the room. Then the lights had shrieked and leapt at him.
Syndrome managed to most them with his zero-energy. In its blue glow he saw what he was being attacked by, giant rat things. One of the two rats that he hadn't caught on the first pass flew at him from an odd angle and bit right through his glove to his left hand, freeing half of it's brethren as the glove shorted and the villain yelped in pain.
From his wrist, he heard Vex's voice calling him over the communicator. "Syndrome? Syndrome!"
He slammed his hand, the creature still latched onto his flesh, against one of the computer units, stunning it, and freeing himself from its grip. But the communicator was dead.
Two more of the things leapt at him, he knocked them out of the air with the bunch that he still had contained, throwing them against the wall. As he was turning, another one hurdled towards his face, and he didn't bat it away quick enough to avoid its nasty claws digging into the flesh right below his left eye.
The thing recovered quickly and leapt at him again, lower this time, and he kicked it away. Okay, that was what, seven down? There should only be a few-
Except there were more now. He still had the same number in his energy field, and the ones he had taken care of still lay immobile. But now there were like five more.
"Aw shit," he swore, and edged backwards, towards the door, as several of them tried to jump him at once. He knocked them out of the air with the floating bunch again, and quickly punched in the access code to the door.
Leaving the lab was not a viable option, as the white hallway was now filled with large swinging blades. He started to whirl around when he was knocked to the ground by a rather large object.
Three rats sailed over his head, and where sliced and diced out in the hallway. Syndrome winced as he was splattered with blood.
As Vex, for that was who had accosted him, pulled him to his feet, he realized he'd let go of his hold on the five rats he had captive. They swarmed him en mass, and Syndrome shoved the girl out of the way, and caught most of them in his field again with his good glove. He slammed them as hard as he could against the wall, which he should have done in the first place, and looked for more.
He heard the sound of electricity twice in quick succession and saw that Vex had taken out the two that had escaped him, and come after her.
They stood there, staring around the room, making sure there were no more of the things. The room was silent except for the swooshing of the giant blades in the hallway, and their panting. There didn't seem to be any more creatures coming.
"Are you alright?" they asked one another simultaneously, and then both answered. "I'm fine."
Syndrome chuckled.
"You're bleeding," Vex pointed out.
He pulled off his malfunctioning glove, and inspected the wound on his palm. It wasn't deep, in fact, it was barely bleeding. The glove had absorbed most of it. "It's nothing."
"I kinda meant that one," she corrected, pointing at his face.
He reached up, and felt the hot, stinging moisture on his face, he'd forgotten about that. "Damn," he growled, wiping away the blood with his sleeve, and kicked the body of one of the creatures. "Well, it'll heal. I do this kinda thing all the time. What about you?"
He had been surprised at how well she had handled herself.
She shrugged. "Just like Legend of Zelda," she said wryly, "except for the part where all I have to do is tap the 'A' button to kill the damn things."
"How did you know what was happening?" Syndrome asked her, pushing the strands of hair that had escaped his pony tail out of his face. "And how'd you get in here?"
"Mikhail caught me in the elevator again. He was babbling something about his brother being murdered, then the lights flickered, and he said 'its happening' or something like that. I tried to call you, you didn't answer, so I figured I should see if you needed help."
"And he just let you go?"
"Well, not exactly. I had to knock him out, at least, he didn't look dead, but I didn't really stop to check. He had one of those rat things with him, too. Can a tazer to the face kill a guy?"
"Well, not unless you really held it to him," he shook his head. He was becoming even more pleased with her. "Did you learn anything more specific from him?"
She took a moment to repeat what Mikhail had said about his father's obsession with his brother's disease, the brother's demise, and his father's madness, and death.
"Huh. Nothing else?"
"No, that's all he said before I had to tackle him."
"What about the passage?"
"Mickey used it to get into the elevator; the access codes didn't work in the terminals I had to get through, so they, uh, kinda need fixing now. Sorry."
"Hey, hey, do not apologize. Frankly, I'm pretty impressed with you, ya know?" he grinned at her.
She blushed, but looked quite thrilled as well. "I'm sure you'd have been okay. You almost had them all when I got here..."
Honestly, he wasn't sure if he could, though he wasn't quite going to admit that. "Maybe, but I appreciate your help. Unless I specifically say so, do not hesitate to help."
"That's what I'm here for," she beamed.
"So, let's go see what our Russian friend has anything to say for himself, shall we?"
"Sounds good to me. This room's a little depressing at the moment, anyway." She glanced out the hallway. "Do you know how to turn those off?"
"Not while the controls are out," he gestured to the dark screens.
"Then I think we're stuck taking the stairs."
As they walked up the stair case, Syndrome noticed that Vex had removed her glove and was massaging her wrist. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she grinned sheepishly.
"Hitting things is all well and good," she mused, "But I think I could use a long range option."
He smirked. "I'll see what I can do."
As they got to the first level, Syndrome saw Mikhail's feet sticking out of the elevator limply. He bent down and checked the guy's pulse. "He's alive alright, but you sure knocked him out good. And look at that hair," he snickered at the ball of brown frizz around the man's gaunt face.
Vex giggled. "So what are you going to do with him?"
"I think it's time we took a tour of the doc's brig, eh?"
She nodded, as he surrounded their attacker with a field of blue energy, hefting him into the air, and started back down the stairs. At the very bottom, Syndrome nodded at the access terminal.
"Vex."
She nodded, and tried the code first. When it was rejected, she put her yellow shock glove back on and fried it. The door opened.
For the most part, the brig looked very... well, there no other way to describe it. It looked Trekkie. There were at least a dozen small holding cells, each with a glowing energy field in the doorway, rather than conventional bars. At any rate, Syndrome didn't have the access codes for them at the moment, so that option was out. He was beginning to think that they might just have to tie the guy up, when they rounded the corner into what could only have been the interrogation area.
Contained in the white, shiny alcove were two retaining tubes, a chair with various straps beside a table with various needles and chair for the interrogator, and, Syndrome couldn't help but laugh, out of both luck and amusement. Doctor Rasputin had bought one of Syndrome's own Force Racks! The same device that he'd held Mr. Incredible in a week ago. It was an older model, but no less effective.
He dropped Mikhail to the floor unceremoniously. "Watch him, in case he wakes up," he instructed, walking over to the Rack's controls.
Vexxation nodded. "What is that thing?" she asked.
"Force Rack," he explained. "It holds the prisoner immobile, and administers painful impulses to him, for interrogation. I invented it."
"Sounds pretty useful."
"I thought so," he smirked. Rasputin had passworded the access, but that was fine. Syndrome included an emergency override code in all of his weapons that only he knew of, in case they were ever used against him. The machine came to life with a hum.
"Put those on his wrists and ankles," he told Vex, nodding to the large restraints.
She picked them up, and clapped them roughly to Mikhail's appendages, checking to make sure each one was locked. "All set," she nodded.
Syndrome pointed a finger at the body, and lifted him up into the energy field, securing him in place.
Vex looked from Syndrome, to Mikhail, and back, and crossed her arms. "So how long do you think it'll be before he wakes up?"
"Oh, an hour or so at least. You really put his lights out good, babe," he sneered scornfully at the limp Russian.
"Thank you," she beamed, flattered. "So, we wait then, or what?"
Syndrome frowned. On the one hand, he didn't want to leave the prisoner unguarded, on the other hand, just waiting in the brig for the hour or so it took for him to wake up sounded equally unpleasant, if not as risky. Not that he thought Mikhail could escape, but he wasn't taking any chances.
"Hmmm, you found the doc's kitchen, right?"
She nodded. "It's the only room on the ground floor or the suite."
"Right. So, you watch the prisoner while I go get us some breakfast," he tried to think of how long it had been since they'd arrived. A few hours at least.
"Okay."
"I don't think there are any more of those pests around, but watch out anyway. And be warned, my communicator isn't working."
"Dually warned," she nodded.
Half an hour ago he might have been more worried about leaving her alone under such circumstances, but he definitely felt that she had proved herself at least somewhat capable in a fight. Which was more than he could have said for Mirage.
"I'll be back in a few," he assured her, and then headed back towards the staircase.
000
Vex sat in the brig, alone except for the company of the man that she had knocked out. She didn't feel bad about that either. He had attacked Syndrome, and might have attacked her too. She wondered what exactly Mikhail had against him. It seemed like it must have something to do with his dead brother. But what exactly?
She shook her head. Too much had happened too quickly for her to sort it all out. For she was just glad that both she and Syndrome were safe, and she was pretty much assured that they would get the full story from Mikhail himself when he woke up. Whether he wanted to tell them about it or not.
She smirked, resting her chin on her hand and watched their prisoner for any signs of movement, all the while, thinking to herself. She and Syndrome made a pretty good team, didn't they? And she had managed to show him that she could fight a bit too, if she had too, although, she would have been more comfortable with an edged weapon, given that she'd taken fencing lessons for a few years when she was younger.
She thought of Syndrome's boyish, freckly face twisted in that assured smirk, and sighed. He liked her, right? He had, after all, put his arm around her in the plane, and Syn didn't seem the type for meaningless supportive gestures...But then, they had only known each other for a day at best, and, under his arrogant surface, he did seem to be a bit shy. But then, he also was a very dominating type of person, so being forward would just alienate him...
Mikhail groaned, and Vex snapped out of her reverie, and glared at him, standing up. From behind, she thought she heard the squeal of those rat-things again, and whirled around, but there was nothing there. She adjusted the glove on her wrist, just in case.
He moaned again, and she trained her eyes on him, but stayed attentive for movement from other places in the room. It looked like he was waking up sooner than Syndrome had expected.
His eyes parted slightly. "Vhy..." he began in a hoarse voice. "Vhy did you attack me?" The thing was, he sounded genuinely disbelieving.
"You're joking, right?" she demanded, glaring at him.
"I do not understand, vhat loyalty do you owe to that monster?"
"My own," she snapped.
"But vhy? Do you not know vhat he is? A killer?"
"So?" she crossed her arms.
"I see. So you are the type of voman who is best charmed vith vicked viles."
Vex winced at this, but it was because of all the mangles 'w's in the sentence, rather than it's content. Yes, she thought, thank you very much. "And what if I am?"
"Then you are a fool!" he accused. "Can you not see he is a man who cares for nothing but his own?!"
"Well, you've got me there," came a voice from the door way. Vex whirled around to find him standing in the door way. However, he wasn't in normal clothing anymore, instead he was in the black and white outfit from the news, with his cape billowing behind him as he walked forward, and his hair standing up above his head. The effect was mangled though, by the fact that he was carrying the duffle bag that Vex had dropped in the elevator, and a tray of sandwiches.
He strode across the room, and put the sandwiches down on the table, brushing the needles aside, and the bag on the floor.
"You just left out one important detail, that's all. Vexxation is mine." Syndrome sneered, putting his arm around his lieutenant's shoulders possessively.
A thrill went through Vex's whole body and she drew closer to him almost involuntarily. It was nothing compared to the next moment when he lifted her chin up to his, and began to kiss her. She melted, and her world spun as he parted her lips with his tongue and began to caress the inside of her mouth forcefully. She kissed back, their tongues twining against each other as she pressed herself to him, wrapping her arms around his body, the soft fabric of his cape falling around her shoulders.
"You dog!" Mikhail spat.
Syndrome pulled away from her gently, and laughed in the Russian's face. "You think I'm wrong?"
"I vill not accept it!"
Vex's body was warm, and tingling, and she was surprised that she was still able to stand up. It felt like someone had grabbed her by the wrists and swung her around and around. In a good way.
"Vex," Syndrome snapped with a smirk. "You see the dial on that panel?"
She blinked, forcing herself to be functional. "I see it," she nodded.
"I think we ought to prove to our guest how wrong he is about you, shall we?"
She nodded, and strode over to the control panel, putting her hand on the dial, ready to turn it. "What number?"
Syndrome shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, whatever you feel is appropriate. Ten will kill him, though, and we don't want that just yet."
"Lady, do not do this! It is wrong, you must know tha-"
His speech was suddenly cut off by a strangled yell, and jerking spasm, as Vex turned the dial to six.
"Shut you pie hole," she quipped.
Syndrome nodded at her, with a smirk of approval, and clasped his hands behind his back, pacing in front of the Force Rack.
"So, Mickey," he began wryly, "Vex tells me you've got a little childhood trauma to deal with, why don't you tell us about that."
"You ruined my life, bastard!"
"Funny, I don't remember ever meeting you before. Maybe you should be more specific."
"I vil not! You make me sick! You know very vell vhat you did!"
Syndrome nodded to Vex, and she activated the dial again, at the same setting.
Mikhail's hoarse cries echoed through the whitewashed, brightly lit torture chamber.
"Now," Syndrome asked, after the prisoner's shouts had subsided to panting. "Would you like to tell me why you hate me so much?"
"You killed my brother!! And my father!!"
Vex and Syndrome's eyes met for just a moment, and the super villain grinned rakishly, before quickly straightening his face, clearing his throat and turning back to Mikhail.
"No," he said in a deep booming voice, "I am you father."
Both Syndrome and she doubled over into hearty, amused laughter, unable to resist the pull of a perfect Star Wars reference.
Mikhail glared straight at her, and, deeply offended. "Vhat are you thinking?! Is this some sort of game to you?!"
Vex's peals of laughter subsided to giggles that she tried to quell completely. "That was too perfect," she muttered to Syndrome.
"Why thank you," he grinned, and then turned his attention back to the prisoner. "Yeah, yeah, you're deadly serious. So I killed your brother, huh? Funny I don't remember killing any-"
And then he stopped, and slapped his fist into his palm. "Oh, I get it, I get it! Your brother, he was a Super, right?"
"That is vhat you Americans call us," Mikhail growled.
"Us? No, wait, we'll get to that in a minute. So your brother. Did he wear a red and yellow outfit? And shoot lasers out of his hands?"
"So you remember now, do you? You are so careless with murder; I almost did not expect you to."
"Hey, hey hey, it's not my fault your big bro never stopped to tell me his name," he held up his hands defensively.
"How could he? You attacked him!"
Syndrome ignored him. "Okay, after all these years I gotta know what was his name?"
"My brother's name was Piotr."
"Piotr Rasputin?" Vex snorted.
"Yes!" Mikhail snapped. "Vhat is it you find amusing now, frivolous girl?"
"Aw, you wouldn't get the joke," she shook her head.
"Anyway, as I was saying," Syndrome continued. "So your brother was the unknown Super, that makes sense now." He nodded, "And the respirator was your father's cure for whatever was wrong with the kid."
"Ha! You are wrong! That device was to act as my brother's lungs after they were removed."
Syndrome frowned. "Hmmm so that wasn't it, huh? Well, why don't you just tell me why he had that chip in his head, I bet that's it."
"I vil not humiliate my brother in his death!"
"Ah, so we're getting somewhere. What if I say please?"
"Never!"
"Okay, what if I say eight?"
Vex took this cue, and turned the dial up two notches. Again, the room rang with Mikhail's screams.
"It vas a disorder of the brain!!" Mikhail gasped.
"And that's why papa needed to spy on him with a camera?"
"It vas a precaution for my brother's safety. It is thanks to that my father saw his death! That he replayed it over and over until the sight of your face drove him mad! That is how I knew you vhen you came."
"Interesting, but not the info I was looking for. Let's change subjects, shall we? You implied you were a super?"
"Yes. I have powers."
"The rat-things," Vex realized.
"Correct. They manifest themselves at my command, to defend me."
Syndrome chuckled. "What do they call you, Mickey, the Pied Piper of Moscow?"
"I grow weary of your banter. Question me if you must, but your jokes are worse than this machine."
"Tut tut tut, you need a sense of humor, don't you? Wanna help him out Vex?"
She zapped him again, but this time, in the middle of his screams he gave way to a choking cough, some blood trickling from his mouth out onto his chin.
"Please, stop," he rasped, staring plaintively at her with his glazed eyes.
"Hey, hey, Piper, I'm the one asking the questions, how about you beg me?" Syndrome sneered at him.
"Never."
"You're prerogative, man. Mind telling me exactly what was wrong with your brother in that case?"
"Vhy do you care?"
"I'm curious."
"I vill not tell you."
"We'll try this one more time. Come on, I'm dying to know here."
"I vil not tell you!"
"Nine, Vex," he instructed.
There was more screaming and coughing and Mikhail's body jerked like a harassed marionette.
"Now will you tell me?"
"You can take your curiosity to the devil in hell!!" Mikhail roared defiantly, using what looked like the last of his strength.
"Hmmm," Syndrome pretended to consider this. "I've got a better idea, how about you go do that for me, and I'll look up the information I want in your dad's files?" He turned to Vex, his eyes glinting behind the black mask that obscured his face. "Set the dial to ten."
"No!" Mikhail pleaded with her. "I vould have spared you life!"
He would have, too; Vex knew that. She wasn't the one he had a grudge against. But Syndrome wanted him dead, and frankly, she didn't like him all that much herself. After all, he had attacked Syndrome, and she didn't care what his reasons were.
"Well that's your bad taste," she sneered at him, and turned the dial up to ten.
It was the shortest the screams had lasted, but there was more coughing, and more blood issued forth from his mouth. Mikhail's body twitched violently for several moments, and then fell completely still.
Sharon Mitchell, age seventeen, had killed a man.
"Well done," Syndrome congratulated her with a grin. He strode away from the limp body in the machine, over to the table, and picked up the tray of sandwiches. "On second though, why don't we eat upstairs, huh?"
"Okay," Vexxation agreed, and followed him up the stairs.
To be continued...
Okay, a few extra notes here. One, this is probably the darkest chapter in the entire story, so if you didn't like it, I'm sorry, please bear with me, for the mood quickly lightens.
Also, I always update either by 6 pm eastern USA/Canada time, or midnight. Usually 6.
Be warned as well, that I am going to visit my best friend tomorrow and force her to see the Incredibles with me, so she can read this fic. Yes, it will be the third time I've seen it in less than two weeks. I will try to finish the chapter before I go, but may not be able to. Please excuse this irregularity, and note that I will be back on schedule on Thursday. Same bat time, same bat channel.
And now, to the reviews.
DJ Caligula: Yay!! I am so happy to have you reading my fic! I really, really, really enjoyed your Gríma fic, Not Worth More than Rubies, and I wish you would update it. Not to mention your essay, which has become a classic. Yes, I thought having Syn actually recruit a fangirl off ffnet was something that hadn't been seen in a fic before. The references to shows and stuff amuse me, at least, I hope they aren't annoying anyone. As for Syndrome's hair, easy it was red to begin with! As a child he obviously dyed it blonde to look like Mr. Incredible.
Artymas: Yes yes, updating steroids aplenty, it's called caffeine and obsession. Haha, I'm sorry about the cliffhanger, here's another one for you!
Krystal-Image-Ki: Um, I'm not sure what art you're talking about, since I only have two little doodles up at my deviart account, but thanks for reading the fic! Always good to addict a fan.
WormmonABC: I am proud! Thanks for reading!
Maya Beebop: Hahaha, you got zapped by the ffnet censors!! I hope you liked this chapter.
Megan The Vampire Slayer: As to a romantic scene, obviously, the answer was yes!
RavensHaelo: Yep, I am on deviantart. Yay for the Syndrome club!!
Shadow Fox Forever: Sorry again, about the cliff hangar. Hey, I have to have a way to get people to read the next chapter, right?