Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles.
Chapter Two: Ambush
"You guys! Violet! Virgil!" Dash ran into the house and frantically sped from one room to the other looking for his sister and friend.
"We're in here." Violet stuck her head into the hall. Dash ran into the kitchen and tackled his sister around the legs, holding onto her tightly. "Are you guys okay? Everyone was talking about the attack and all I could think about was that we were fighting this morning and what if you'd gotten hurt? I would have felt so bad and I'm so glad you're okay!"
Violet hugged her little brother. "I'm fine, everybody's fine."
Virgil chuckled from where he was sitting at the table.
Dash ran over and hugged Virgil too. "That's a relief." The little boy jumped into the chair next to Virgil. "I ran all the way home."
"You did?" Violet asked, a frown on her face.
"I changed into uniform." Dash explained.
Violet's phone rang. She took it out of her bag and checked the screen. "Mom says she left Jack-Jack sleeping in his room. I should go check on him." She rose and left the kitchen.
Virgil picked up the remote and turned the small TV on the counter on, flipping to the news. All the channels were covering the attack on Metroville High School. He let out a sigh when it was confirmed there had been no fatalities and a number of the invaders had been taken into custody. The leader and his inner circle had escaped but were being tracked by the police. Virgil even smirked when he saw the bearded man who had smacked F-Stop being forced into a police cruiser.
Dash's mouth fell open at the coverage. "Whoa. I was scared before but this is kinda cool."
Virgil got up and got the two of them snacks. "Wouldn't have been cool if someone had gotten shot or that bomb had gone off."
Dash frowned and plunged the straw into his juice box. "No. But that didn't happen."
Virgil rolled his eyes, sipping at his own drink. "Barbeque or original?" He asked, holding up two bags of chips.
Dash grabbed at the Barbeque flavor and tore the bag open. "Were you scared?"
"Me? Nah." Dash's eye widened in awe. Virgil felt a little bad for lying but he wasn't going to admit he'd almost peed his pants to an eleven year old.
"Was that the last Barbeque?" Violet entered the kitchen, a sleepy Jack-Jack in her arms.
"Yeah. Want some?" Dash opened his mouth, revealing the grotesquely chewed up chips.
"You are such a little…argh." Violet set Jack-Jack in his high chair. "You are so immature." Dash just grinned and leaned back, upending the remnants of the bag into his mouth.
"Kids? Where are you?" Bob called as he walked into the house.
"Kitchen!" Dash yelled back.
"Thank goodness." Helen walked in first and pulled Violet into a hug and then embraced Virgil.
Bob held back in the doorway, a smile on his face. "You guys alright?"
"Yeah, we're okay." Violet said.
Helen scooped up Jack-Jack. "I swear, when that report came in my heart nearly stopped."
"Don't worry, we'll catch those creeps." Bob promised, throwing an arm around Violet and squeezing her in a half hug. She giggled and put her arms around her father.
"Where's my dad?" Virgil asked.
"He had to go back to the office. He left in the middle of a meeting. His client's probably pretty angry with him. He said he'd be home as soon as he cleared things up there." Helen explained.
"Oh, ok."
"Why?" Bob asked.
"I just wanted to talk to him about something." Virgil said, looking away.
Helen looked between Bob and Virgil. "Ok, Dash, how about you go get started on your homework." Dash groaned but slid off his chair and complied. "Violet, didn't you want to ask me about Homecoming dresses?"
Violet smiled delightedly. "Yeah! I have a catalog in my room. I was thinking something purple…" The teenager ran from the room to retrieve the magazine, Helen following after her. She looked pointedly at Bob and nodded at Virgil.
Bob rubbed the back of his neck. "Look V, I know I'm not your dad or anything but if you want to talk to me about whatever's bothering you, I'm always here to listen."
Virgil thought about it and then sat at the table. "Something kinda weird happened today. I'm just not sure what to think about it."
Bob sat opposite Virgil. "Weirder than being held hostage by a terrorist organization in your own gymnasium?"
Virgil smiled. "Well, no. But it has to do with that."
Bob made a 'go on' gesture.
Virgil sighed and just launched into his story. "There's this kid, F-Stop…"
"F-Stop?"
"Well his name's actually Francis but nobody calls him that. You'd probably wake up with a concussion in a dumpster somewhere."
"Ah."
"Yeah well, he's been on my case lately, not too sure why, but that's not the point. Today, when we were in the gym, after the guys lit the fuse and were leaving, everyone started panicking. I tried to get to the bomb but I couldn't break through the crowd. It was going to go off. I saw F-Stop sort of throw his hand out towards the bomb. The next thing I know, the fuse is out. I looked over at F-Stop and he had a little flame in his hand. It was only a split second and I might have been seeing things but I think F-Stop put the fuse out."
Bob frowned. "So, you think this F-Stop kid is a Super?"
He hesitated for moment, and then Virgil nodded. "It's the only thing I can think of. That bomb would've gone off. Somebody stopped it and I swear I saw fire in his hand."
Bob leaned back, his facial expression indicating deep thought. "I'll look into it. If there's another Super out there we don't know about, either he's not in the files or he's rogue. Either way, I'm gonna call Dicker."
"I don't know." Virgil stood. "I'd be careful about F-Stop. There's something weird about him."
Bob stood too and clapped a reassuring hand onto Virgil's shoulder. "Don't worry V. I know how to handle these things."
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.
Francis slammed the front door shut and stalked into the living room. Stupid. How stupid could he be? Using his powers? That was such an amateur's move. So what if the bomb had gone off? He could've protected himself and not taken the risk. Sure some people might've gotten splattered but he would be safe.
He threw a punch at the wall, his fist sinking into the drywall. Francis stopped thinking the word stupid and started thinking the word ow. He pulled his hand out of the wall and shook it, blood streaming from his knuckles.
"Well fuck me." He growled.
He went to the bathroom and ran his hand under the sink, washing the blood away. Francis shook his head in frustration, still mentally berating himself. For the first time in five years he had used his powers in public. Who knew what the implications of this would be? Who knew who had seen him? And for what? To save a bunch of people who didn't even like him?
Francis looked up and grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. That fucker with a rifle had done a number to his face. There was a deep gash across his nose; dried blood was all over his cheeks and chin. How had he made it home without anyone screaming at the sight of him?
The area around the cut was already turning a deep blue. Francis found a washcloth and ran it under the warm water. He dabbed at the dried blood on his face, the water in the sink turning pink whenever he rinsed the cloth. Francis carefully wiped the skin around the gash clean and then began to rinse the cut out, hissing through his teeth in pain. Satisfied, Francis opened the medicine cabinet and found some bandages. First, he wrapped his hand and then he pinched the cut shut and applied a few bandages to hold it closed. He probably needed stitches but the last place Francis wanted to go was a hospital.
Francis inspected himself in the mirror. Better. He'd look like he just got his ass beat in a fight, especially as a technicolor black eye was forming, but whatever. Least he wasn't dead. The fucker could have just shot him.
Francis went back out into the apartment's main area and considered his options. The smartest thing would be to cut and run. Find a new city. The NSA was probably still looking for him. Could he take the risk of staying?
He was startled out of his thoughts by the vibration of his cell phone on the counter. Francis had left it at home that day. The red-haired teen grabbed the phone and blinked at the screen in surprise. He had twelve voice mails and thirty-four messages. "Well shit."
Francis flicked through the messages; they were all from guys in his crew. They were wondering where the hell he was, was he dead, was he going to call and let them know he wasn't dead, were they going to have to replace him, was he going to come get drunk with them if he weren't dead? Francis smirked, responded to only one (Danny, who would let everyone else know. If crews could have gossip whores than Danny was it) saying he was alive and he would meet them at the usual bar later.
Francis put his phone down and ran a hand through his spiked hair, letting out a tired sigh. Bottom line, he had no idea what he was going to do. He was pretty happy with his life here. He had complete freedom. It would suck to leave all that behind just because he was afraid someone had seen him use his powers in a crowded room full of screaming, panicking people. And he'd only used them for a second. Francis shrugged. What was he freaking out about? He was safe. No need to be paranoid.
Rick Dicker put the phone down and stared at his desktop for a moment. So, Bob had found Francis Stone. About time.
He opened his desk drawer and took out a thick folder. He opened it and examined the first page. A twelve-year-old red headed boy stared at him from a photo paper-clipped to a Missing Supers report.
Dicker picked the phone up again. "I'll be needing a car."
Francis looked himself over in the mirror one last time. The guys were gonna give him hell over the bruises and cuts but there wasn't much he could do about it. Besides, they made him look even more badass than usual. Francis pulled a sweatshirt out of his closet and slid into it. He looked out the window and noticed raindrops tapping against the panes. He frowned. Great, rain. He loved rain. Francis popped a baseball cap on backwards, grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet and left his apartment.
Francis bounded down the steps two at a time, feeling pretty good, his earlier anxiety forgotten. Yeah, it'd been pretty stupid to use his powers but it had also felt good. It had been a while since he'd even used his powers in private. It wasn't natural to keep that inside. Supers were meant to use their powers.
Francis pushed the door open and stepped outside. He frowned as he was pummeled by raindrops and ducked into the alley next to his building. If he took the alleys all the way to the bar, he could avoid the worst of the rain. Francis began walking down the dim alley, away from the streetlights and bustle of the main road. He had only gone a few steps when he felt like he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Francis stopped and looked warily over his shoulder. Nothing.
He shrugged and continued. Then he saw a very large man drop down from the fire escape and land directly in front of him. Big guys should not be that agile. Francis backed up and collided with another body behind him. Francis jumped forward and looked behind him. A much smaller, slimmer guy was behind him, blocking his escape. Francis clenched his fists ready to fight, then he noticed what the men were wearing. Supersuits.
Francis' mind went blank. "Oh shit."
The large man stepped forward and Francis got a better glimpse of him. Mr. Incredible. Francis' eyes widened and he felt like his legs were going to buckle under him. They would send Mr. Incredible after him.
"Francis Stone I presume?" Mr. Incredible asked, not unkindly but in a manner that suggested Francis' response was unnecessary. So he stayed silent.
"Fro?"
Francis felt something very cold behind him and before he could react, his arms were frozen to his side. He struggled for a moment, panic taking over. No, no. He didn't want to go back. Absurdly, he didn't think of lighting up. He was so used to suppressing his powers it wasn't a natural instinct anymore. Mr. Incredible reached forward and took his cap off. The superhero smiled at the struggling teen. "Somebody's been looking for you."
By the time Francis had been taken back to the Sanctum he was thoroughly, and purposefully, drenched by the rain. Now he couldn't light up even if he wanted to. Not only that but he had been blindfolded and had no idea where he was.
After all, the Sanctum was secret. Precautions had to be taken. At least Frozone had been apologetic when he tied the blindfold over Francis' eyes.
Francis was just grateful to be inside and out of the rain. When Frozone untied the blindfold, Francis had stopped struggling and stood, shoulders slumped, between Mr. Incredible and Frozone. He looked around quickly, trying to figure out where he had been taken. It was underground; there was no natural light. White tiling coated the walls and floor. There was a lot of machinery and computers lining the walls and a giant television screen in the center of the room surrounded by smaller consoles. If he had to guess, Francis would say he was in a Super's headquarters.
Mrs. Incredible sat at one of the consoles and was turned half in her seat to look at him. Francis gaped at the technology. He had never seen anything like this.
He felt the ice around him melt away and he realized Frozone was letting him loose. He stepped away from the heroes and rubbed his arms to get the feeling back in them.
"Thanks guys. You've done a real favor for the NSA."
Francis' heart dropped. He knew that voice. He turned his head slowly and saw Rick Dicker standing along the wall. His mouth dropped open.
"No problem." Mr. incredible said.
"You've been a real pain for the government these last five years Stone." Dicker walked forward, frowning at Francis. "Do you have any idea how many funds were put into tracking you down?"
"Could've stopped looking." Francis found his voice. "I wouldn't have minded."
Dicker's frown deepened. "What happened to your face?"
"Got pistol whipped."
Dicker opened his mouth to say something else but before he could respond, Mrs. Incredible spoke up. "Rick, do you mind filling us in on what exactly is going on?"
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind knowing who this kid is." Frozone added.
Rick nodded. "Of course, you deserve to know after finding him." He walked over to the console where Mrs. Incredible was sitting and pulled up the NSA database. He typed in Francis' name and a photo along with several files was displayed on the screen. Francis grimaced at the photo of his twelve year old self. "This is Francis Stone. He was a ward of the state and living at a government relocation center when he managed to run away at the age of twelve. Imagine the fuss that made, an underage Super with dangerous powers running amok at the height of the Superhero Protection Program. It was made top priority to track him down."
"Who are his parents?" Mr. Incredible asked, knowing Super genes were hereditary.
"His mother was Blazestone." Dicker said.
"Blazestone? But…how…how old are you?" Frozone spluttered.
"Relax, I'm not your kid." Francis scoffed, a scowl on his face. Shut up Dicker, shut up.
"His father was Downburst." Dicker supplied.
Mr. Incredible burst into laughter beside Francis. "Downburst? And Blazestone?"
Francis shot him a withering glare.
Dicker smirked. "Yes well, Francis has attributes of both his parents. His anger from his father and his powers from his mother."
"Yeah?" Mr. Incredible looked at Francis with interest. "Let's see Hothead."
Francis ignored him and focused on Dicker. "So now what?"
"Now you're coming back to the government center with me."
"What? No!" Francis backed away, Mr. Incredible reached out with a restraining hand. "No fucking way! I'm not going back!"
Dicker shook his head. "You don't have a choice. You don't know how to use your powers properly; you're a danger to yourself and society. Not to mention you're a minor and a ward of the state."
"No!" Francis struggled in Mr. Incredible's grasp.
"Take it easy kid." Frozone said soothingly. Francis glared at him. He kicked Mr. Incredible hard enough for the superhero to let go and the teen jumped back, clenching his fists. Coils of flame leapt up his arms and intertwined around his chest like snakes. Francis' normally emerald green eyes became fiery red.
The adults in the room stared at him.
"Whoa." Mr. Incredible muttered.
"Be reasonable Francis." Dicker tried to placate the frantic teen. Francis shook his head, backing away.
Frozone raised his hand, prepared to ice the pyro.
"Wait, just everybody wait. Calm down." Mrs. Incredible got to her feet and walked in between Dicker and Francis. "There's another option."
"There is?" Francis asked, his eyes going back to normal.
Mrs. Incredible looked at Dicker. "Why doesn't Francis stay here with us?"
"What?" Dicker asked.
"Yeah, what?" Mr. Incredible echoed.
Mrs. Incredible walked over to Francis and put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to power down. The flames evaporated. "He clearly doesn't want to go to a government center. Why not let him stay here. He can continue going to school and we can train him. " Mrs. Incredible smiled at Francis. "Would that be better?"
Francis didn't answer, he just looked confused.
Dicker shrugged. "So long as he is getting the training and education he needs and we know exactly where he is, I don't see the problem. I would require weekly reports of course."
"Of course." Mrs. Incredible agreed.
"Wait, wait." Francis ducked away from Mrs. Incredible's hand. "Are you saying it's a choice between going to the government center or staying here with you?"
"It's not a choice anymore." Dicker said with a small smile. "You're staying here."
Author's Note:
Oh man, this chapter was soooooo much easier to write. I think the problem with the first chapter was that I wasn't writing from Francis' point of view. Which is odd for me. That must have been it. I feel a lot better about this chapter. And guys? Thanks so much for responding! Keep it up, I love getting reviews. I was going to wait a few more days to update but as a special treat on this Gleektacular Tuesday, here ya go. Now go watch Glee.
PLEASE REVIEW!
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