Sigh boring chapter. Ach, whatever.
Disclaimer: Yes.
Chapter 4
Weirded Out
Yawning, Dash stumbled into the kitchen. "Good morning, Dash," Helen said drowsily.
Dash slumped into his chair. He looked down to see a plate of scrambled eggs with a large pile of pancakes in the corner. All traces of sleepiness disappeared. "All right!" he shouted, "Thanks Mom!" Then he started shoveling food into his mouth.
Helen sighed. "A big beautiful breakfast," she said, "and it's gone just as fast as a bowl of cheap, sugary cereal."
"Just be glad he's eating it at all," Violet said with a little smile.
"Plus, this is Dash we're talking about," Bob put in, "He can't do anything slower than full speed."
Dash stopped eating just long enough to glare at them.
"Oh, great," Helen groaned, looking into the pantry, "I've got to go to the store. Looks like we had a little visitor recently – and he's taken the liberty to clean out the cupboards."
"How do you know it was a he?" Dash interrupted, smirking, "I know a few female rats."
Violet snarled at him, "Why you little…"
Helen rolled her eyes. "You kids clean your rooms when I'm gone," she said, "and Bob, you do, I dunno, whatever you've got to do." Then she lifted her purse from the counter, slung it over her shoulder, and left.
Dash and Violet exchanged glances, then turned to their father. There was an awkward silence, then Bob asked, "You gonna eat that, Vi?"
Violet looked down at the uneaten slice of toast pushed off to the side of her plate. She pushed it toward him. "Go for it, Dad."
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Bob shoved the rest of the toast into his mouth and knocked the chair over getting up. He opened the door. "Hey, Lucius," Dash called. Lucius nodded, smiling. "Hey, guys. How's it going?" Bob waved to them, grabbing his coat. "Me and Lucius are… uh… We've got something we need to do. Finish your breakfast, then go clean your room, like Mom told you to."
Jack Jack yawned loudly in his room down the hall.
"And take care of Jack Jack!" he added hastily. "See you later!"
There was a long silence after the slam of the door. Dash clapped Violet on the shoulder. "Well, Vi, have fun with the little guy!" Then he zipped down the hall into his room and slammed the door.
Helen grunted as she heaved the last bag of groceries into the car. Getting into the driver's seat, she started the car and began the drive home.
About halfway, while Helen was stopped at a red light, a large green dragonfly flittered across the windshield. Fascinated, Helen watched it as it alighted on a bush and – what was that on the ground?
The car behind her honked. She looked up at the light. It had turned green.
She quickly flicked on the right turn signal. The road she turned onto was dirt. A thick cloud of dust hung over it. She hesitated for a second, then pulled over to the side of the road. She glanced out the window toward the unidentified object beside the bush, and… With a gasp she realized what it was. From the previous angle, it was indistinguishable, but from her current position it was clear…
Shutters banging, the front door burst open. Violet's head popped out of her room. "Mom?" she called.
"Vi!" Helen said, "Little help –" she grunted, "– please!"
Violet blinked. She walked out to the kitchen and pulled the door back open – it had swung shut again – to see her mother and a strange man trying to carry an unconscious boy into the house. With a gasp, she went to help.
The three stood in a semi-circle around the living room couch, watching the boy's slow, quiet breathing and gently twitching eyes. He was teenaged, maybe around 15 or 16, with smoothly flowing tannish hair, a light brown with a mild shade of sandy blond layered on. Violet pitied him, lying there lifelessly… Lord knew for how long he'd been like that. From the smoothness of his hair, it appeared to be for not that long, but his face and hands were dirty, as were his clothes. He looked the rugged type, a go-get-'em kind of guy, yet more peaceable than most guys of his sort – and really, quite good-looking.
"Who is he?" Violet asked.
Helen bit her lip and sighed. "We don't know," she said, shaking her head, steady gaze locked on the unfortunate boy.
The man who had helped her made a "tsk" noise, gently shaking his head. "Your mom
found him unconscious on the side of the road," he said, "I saw her struggling to get him into her car, so I pulled over and helped her out."
"Thanks again for that, by the way," Helen broke in, smiling.
The man jerked his head back, tossing some of his shoulder-length, dark brown hair out of his piercing green eyes. "It was the least I could do. Really, it was nothing."
He turned back to Violet. "So, yeah, I helped her get him over here. Ah! I'm sorry. Greg Jade."
He extended a hand toward her with a friendly half-grin. She glanced at it, then shook it. "Violet Parr."
"Pleasure." He winked at her. Turning to Helen, he said, "Maybe I'll see you guys around sometime again?"
"Maybe!"
"Stay cool."
"Bye."
He tossed his head back again, and turned to Violet. "Take care of your mom."
She smiled. "Will do."
"Catch you later."
"See you." She grinned. "Maybe."
Greg walked slowly, surely, to the door. He pulled it shut behind him, pausing for a moment, eyes out at the horizon. Smiling, he strode over to a window, gazing in at the boy on the couch and the girl before him, a questioning light of wonder glinting in her eyes. "No," he answered her comment under his breath. Watching Violet leave the room, he stared at the boy, at his closed eyes. He shook his head with a sly smile. "Without doubt."
As he turned and left, the boy's eye twitched.
That night, as Dash and Violet went up to bed, Helen slumped onto a chair next to her husband, who was hunched over, watching the news – elbow on knee, head on hand, eyes half-closed. "Rough day," she said quietly, with the smallest traces of a smile lingering about her lips.
He sat up and stretched. "More strange than straight-out rough," he said drowsily.
Helen shrugged. "Very true."
She glanced over at the young boy on the couch, who was twitching ever so slightly. He settled as her eyes passed over him. She tilted her head to the side, gazing at him more intently. There was something very weird about him, something she couldn't put her finger on. Bob was right – it had been a very strange day. And, now that she thought about it, every last bit of that abnormality had revolved around the kid who was now lying on her couch, in her living room, in her house.
As she climbed the stairs to the bedroom, Bob trailing behind, she knew. She knew something very screwed up would happen, even by superhero standards. She knew she and her family would play a significant part in it. She knew she wouldn't like it. But she knew that it was inescapable, and maybe, maybe they would come out of it just fine. In one way or another, it would haunt them the rest of their lives, perhaps beyond that. And as she paused before the mirror in the bathroom, she believed that it really wouldn't be that bad.
And down on the sofa, the boy rolled over with a soft grunt that sounded like…
"Helen."
Yes, I know that last chapter I promised I'd tell you who was watching Dash BUT – I have learned my lesson. Never ever make promises. No, that wasn't the right lesson, but I learned it anyway!
Yes, it has been a long time since Chappie le Third, but I've been experiencing some difficulties, as I probably will from now 'till final fanfic come. I apologize, but really I don't have to because I'm in control here, and I have you readers in the palm of my hand, and if the hand ain't there, the readers won't be for very long either. I apologize anyway, as we all know that I am not capable of the cruelty described in the previous sentence. Besides, I'm getting better. Y'all know I'm getting sooo much better at writing this bugger. Y'all know it.
OK, well, catch you next chappie! Ciao!
