Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles.

Chapter Five: Appearances

It was four in the morning. Francis was sleeping very soundly.

That ended abruptly.

Francis was yanked from his bed and dragged from the room. He wasn't even completely awake and let himself be dragged for a moment before snapping to his sense. "Wha…?" He asked sleepily.

Bob, decked out in sweats, pulled the pyro to eye-level. "You first day of training starts now."

"Now?" Francis asked in bewilderment. He was wearing boxers and a wife beater. Not exactly work out material.

"Yes, now." Bob smirked. He kept his hand on Francis' shoulder as the two stepped towards a bookshelf. Bob pulled one book back and the shelf slid away, revealing an elevator.

Francis did a double take. "That's really cliché."

Bob shot him a look. Francis shut up.

The elevator took them into the heart of the Sanctum's headquarters. Beneath the house was a huge labyrinth of rooms, including the control room Francis had seen on his first night. Bob steered Francis away from the main room and directed him down a long hallway. They passed a room labeled "Loft" and Francis remembered Virgil asking permission to use it yesterday. He wondered what it was. Francis was so distracted by the other doors that he didn't notice Bob push one open.

Before he could react, Francis was grabbed again and bodily thrown into a pool. A pool filled with freezing cold water. Francis struggled to the surface and gasped, clambering for the side of the pool. 'The hell you doing?" Francis asked, his body convulsing with shivers.

Bob squatted down in front of Francis with an amused smile on his face. "Your training. I get the feeling your powers don't work in water?"

Francis' sullen expression answered that question.

"So first things first, we're going to build up your immunity to water." Bob explained. "Your pretty useless if a little downpour is going to take you out of a fight."

"But its fucking freezing!" Francis protested, not liking how his teeth were chattering.

Bob shrugged. "You'll get used to it." He raised an eyebrow. "You do know how to swim, right?"

"Course I know how to swim." Francis grumbled.

"Good. Here." Bob pulled something from behind his back. It was a black swimsuit. "Put this on. Locker rooms are over there." Bob nodded across the pool. "After that, let's see how fast you can swim fifty laps."

Francis' jaw dropped. "Fifty?"

"Did I stutter?" Bob asked.

"But…but I get tired in water." Francis revealed.

Bob gestured to the pool. "That's why we're doing this. Go."

Francis pulled himself out of the pool and hugged himself, shivering uncontrollably as he trudged to the locker room.

"…fifty…" Francis gasped, slapping his hand down on the edge. It had taken a long time and Francis was exhausted but he had swum all fifty laps. Without cheating either. Bob paced the length of the pool as Francis swam it, making sure the pyro touched each end and critiquing his technique.

Francis' arms shook as he held onto the side, trying to get his breath back. At least the pool water had warmed the longer he had been it.

"How you feeling?" Bob asked.

"Tired." Francis rasped through deep breaths.

"Well, we're going to do this everyday and hopefully you'll be able to swim faster and with more energy after a while." Bob explained.

Francis looked up at him, incredulous. "Every day?"

Bob nodded. "The only way to make a difference. All of your training is going to involve water."

Francis frowned. "Wait, so I don't get to use my powers?"

"Not at first." Bob said. "We'll see how things turn out."

"That sucks." Francis kicked the pool wall.

"Oh. Here you two are." Helen walked into the pool area, followed by Dash in his bathing suit. Dash excitedly ran to the edge and jumped in, splashing Francis and his dad.

"Hiya!" Dash swam over to Francis and hung onto the wall next to him. "What are you doing?"

"Being tortured." Francis responded with a glare at Bob.

"Being trained." Bob corrected. He stood up and looked at his wife. "What are you two doing up so early?"

"It's a little after seven." Helen explained. "I was going to head to the store so Francis could have a good breakfast after his training."

"I wanted to swim." Dash supplied, scrambling to the ledge of the pool and back flipping off.

"Be careful." Helen scolded. "You don't want to slip."

Dash tugged at Francis' arm. "Hey, wanna see me run on water?"

"In a minute squirt." Francis shook the boy off and looked at Bob. "So are we done?"

"Not even close." Bob walked over to a chest along the wall and opened it. He reached in, rummaged for a moment, and then came back up with several tubes.

"I love those!" Dash said excitedly. "Throw one for me Dad!"

Bob shook his head. "Sorry Dash. These are for Francis. Let him get them."

"What are they?" Francis asked.

Bob held them up. They were little plastic tubes in bright colors. "These sink when thrown into water. I'm going to throw them and you're going to get them before they hit the bottom."

"What happens if they hit the bottom?" Francis asked.

Bob shrugged. "You swim five laps."

"Aw c'mon." Francis groaned.

Bob gestured to the pool. "This is an Olympic-sized pool. You better swim fast."

Bob reared back and launched a green tube into the pool. It landed with a splash thirty or so feet from Francis.

Francis kicked off from the wall and swam beneath the water. He got to the tube an instant after it hit the bottom. Francis grabbed it and swam for the surface.

Bob shook his head. "Too bad."

Francis growled to himself, threw the tube back to Bob, and started on his five laps.

"That's a wrap for today." Bob announced after few more hours of exercises.

Francis nodded wearily. He tried to pull himself out of the pool but his arms were shaking too much. Bob reached out a hand, grabbed Francis' arm, and yanked the teen out of the water like he was weightless. Francis collapsed onto the tile, breathing in deep gulps of air.

"Rest up, eat something fortifying, and be ready for tomorrow." Bob ordered.

Francis nodded again, closing his eyes. He was so tired.

"Here."

Francis opened his eyes. Dash was standing over him with a smile, a towel in his outstretched hand.

"Thanks." Francis took the towel and sat up. A thought occurred to him. "Aren't you supposed to be at school by now?"

Dash laughed. "No, it's Saturday."

"Oh." Francis ran through the days in his mind. They'd gone awfully fast. "How about that?"

"Dad said you got the rest of the day off. Wanna play?" Dash asked excitedly.

Francis ran the towel over his head, drying his hair, and then let the towel rest across his shoulders. "I'm really tired."

"Oh." Dash frowned a little. He looked as though he were thinking about something. Francis got to his feet. His legs were shaking.

"Well, you haven't seen much of the house. Can I show you around?" Dash asked with the same hopeful tone.

Francis sighed. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

"Great! C'mon." Dash grabbed Francis' hand and pulled him from the pool area.

"This is the Loft." Dash said, pointing at the door. There was a little red light on above the door.

"What's that?" Francis nodded his head at the light.

"Virg's in there." Dash explained. "We can watch from the Observation Deck." Dash opened a door a feet away from the Loft and ushered Francis in.

There was a long flight of stairs that the two climbed before reaching a narrow room. One wall was entirely made of windows and along the other was some computers and other monitors. Lucius was sitting at the console of one. He looked up when the two boys entered.

"Hey. How was training?" Lucius smiled.

"Hard." Francis said with a bit of a grimace.

"Swimming?" Lucius asked again, noticing Francis' attire.

"Yup."

Dash ran to the windows and pressed his hands against it, looking down into the room below.

"Oh cool! He's running Rescue."

"Rescue?" Francis walked over to the windows. The Observation Deck looked down onto a huge room, the size of an aircraft hangar.

At one end of the Loft hung a dummy dressed in men's clothing. Virgil was standing on a thin metal disc fifty feet in the air, flying towards the dummy. Without warning several objects were ejected from the walls and shot at Virgil, who had to dodge them. There was a scoreboard on the wall behind the dummy. There were thirty seconds on the board and it was counting down.

Virgil flew under an obstacle and dodged around a pillar that shot up from the floor. Fifteen seconds.

"He's got it." Lucius said behind them.

Sure enough with five seconds left on the clock, Virgil wrapped an arm around the dummy's torso, tearing it from the rope and stopping the clock.

Virgil flashed a thumbs up at the Observation Deck. Lucius leaned forward over the console and pressed a button. "Nice run Virgil, but you were sloppy on the blades."

Virgil held out his arms like, so what?

"Your shoulder." Lucius supplied.

Virgil twisted his neck to get a look at his shoulder. He pulled at the shirt he was wearing. There was a large tear in the fabric where a blade had nearly sliced him.

"You keep cutting it that close and I'm going to downgrade you back to ejections only." Lucius warned. "This is training. Not the real deal. No point getting hurt."

Virgil looked annoyed but Francis could tell he agreed with his father. Virgil flew back to the swinging rope and hooked the dummy back up, setting the clock back to its sixty seconds. He made a motion with his hand for his dad to set the simulation up again.

"So this is his training?" Francis asked. He was impressed.

Lucius nodded while checking things on the computer. "Yeah, this and some other things."

"Well, this is actually cool." Francis muttered. "Why don't I get to do stuff like this?"

"Because we don't trust you." Lucius said simply.

Francis turned to look at the adult. Lucius shrugged. "What do you expect? Trust is something you have to earn."

Francis rolled his eyes. Do-gooder.

Finding a hanger, Francis hung up some of his new shirts in the closet. Helen had given him very specific instructions on what needed to be hung so it didn't wrinkle. Francis didn't care, but she'd made a point of telling him so he might as well listen.

Dash was sitting on his bed watching Francis put away the clothes. His room seemed fuller now. While Helen had been grocery shopping she'd even picked up a black comforter and sheets so his bed was less frilly.

"Do you like football?" Dash asked. He was sitting cross-legged.

"Sure." Francis shrugged. He looked at the little boy. "If your gonna be here you might as well make yourself useful." He dumped a load of t-shirt onto the bed. "Fold those."

Dash happily started on the chore. "Do you like the Metroville Monsters?" He asked.

"Yeah, course. Home team and everything." Francis said off-handedly.

"Who's your favorite player?"

Francis looked at Dash. "Dunno, Jackson I guess."

"I like Gerard Hamilton." Dash supplied. "He's the fastest receiver in the whole league."

Francis snickered. That would be why Dash would like a player.

"He's got more touchdowns than anyone else in the Eastern Conference." Dash added.

"Yeah. Hamilton's good." Francis said.

"Wait here." Dash abruptly jumped up and ran from the room.

Francis shrugged and started on the drawers. In a moment, Dash was back with a roll of tape in one hand and a rolled-up poster in the other. "Here." He offered them to Francis.

Francis raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Dash unrolled it. It was a poster of Gerard Hamilton. "For your room." Dash explained.

Francis almost laughed but managed to keep it in. Dash looked so serious offering his own poster to Francis. "That's ok."

"Oh." Dash frowned.

Francis took in the crestfallen look and then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know what? My walls are kinda bare, huh?"

Dash nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"And Hamilton is the best receiver in the whole league." Francis prodded.

Dash nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah!"

"I could put it over the desk. I think it would make my room a lot cooler." Francis looked at Dash. "If you don't mind, that is."

Dash shook his head. "No! Here!" He thrust the poster in Francis' hands.

Francis turned and taped the poster to the wall, chuckling to himself. He stepped back in line with Dash. They both looked at the poster. "What do you think?" Francis asked.

Dash rubbed his chin, evaluating the wall. "Cool."

"Very cool. Thanks squirt." Francis held his hand out.

Dash slapped his own little palm against Francis' with a grin. "No problem."

"So, what's the deal with your Dad?" Francis asked after a moment. He kicked the new pair of sneakers Helen had gotten him into the closet and shut the door. It felt good to have a full closet. Francis sat on the bed and started tearing open packages of socks.

Dash clambered onto the bed beside Francis and looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Is he always such a huge dou…" Francis caught himself. "…jerk?"

Dash chuckled. "That's just 'cause he doesn't like you."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I got that."

"Violet says Dad is old-school." Dash explained. "He likes things to be the way he thinks they should be. When they aren't he gets mad." Dash smiled. "But he's also the best Dad in the whole world."

Francis thought about that. It was probably true. The way Bob had been very over-protective of his family the last few days indicated to Francis that he would do anything for those he loves and pity the fool who endangered them. Francis did not want to get in the way of Mr. Incredible. Not even because of the threat of being sent away. Francis liked all his appendages attached and functional thank you very much.

Francis tore the packaging into little bits. "But I haven't done anything wrong yet."

Dash shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe your one of those punks Dad's always talking about." Dash jumped to his feet and put his hands on his hips, jutting out his chin. "Those no good punks cluttering up the streets with their music and graffiti and disrespect for the law!" Dash mimicked his father in a very passable impersonation.

Francis looked at the little boy and fell back on the bed, convulsing with laughter.

"What's going on in here?" Bob stuck his head into the room.

"Hi Dad!" Dash waved.

Francis raised his head to look at the adult.

Bob frowned, surveying the situation. He noticed the crumpled bits of plastic and empty bags littering the room. "Clean this place up. New rule, you've got to keep your room clean." Bob tapped the door. "And this has to stay open unless you're changing or sleeping."

Francis nodded.

Bob looked around again before turning to leave. "No good punk."

Dash and Francis looked at each other and collapsed into laughter.

"Look, look!" Helen pulled Francis into the kitchen.

Francis looked around. "Very nice. Can I go sleep?"

Helen slapped his arm. "Come here." She led him to the fridge and opened the door. She pulled a loaf of bread from a shelf and held it in front of Francis' face. "Sweet potato bread." She shrugged her shoulders, smiling broadly. "I had no idea they even made that."

Francis was a little taken aback. "What?"

"You can eat this!" Helen said proudly. "No wheat, no gluten. Perfectly safe." She put it back in the fridge and moved to the cupboards. She pulled down a box of cookies and a box of cereal. She laid them out on the counter for Francis. "Go on. Read the ingredients."

Francis picked up the cereal and read the ingredients as he had become accustomed to doing over the years. No wheat. Same with the cookies. Francis was dumbfounded. "You…you went out and found all this stuff? For me?"

"Of course. This is not a prison." Helen said rather pointedly, Francis got the feeling she wasn't addressing this at him. "I'd like you to feel comfortable here."

"Wow. Thanks." Francis said a little uncertainly.

"No problem sweetie." Helen smiled and left the kitchen.

Francis looked at the cookie in his hand and then at the doorway Helen had just walked out of. Nobody had ever gone out of their way to make him feel comfortable before. It felt…nice.

Francis smiled to himself and tore open the cookies, stuffed three in his mouth, grabbed a pop from the fridge, and headed back to his room. This place wasn't so bad.

By the end of the weekend Francis couldn't move. Every muscle in his body ached. All he could do was lie on his bed and gather enough strength to leave the room for meals. Bob was relentless in training. They would work in the pool doing various strenuous exercises for several hours, or until Francis couldn't go anymore. Then Bob would unceremoniously dismiss him and Francis would crawl back to his room and lie in pain for several more hours until dinner.

He had to admit, he was sure these exercises were going to be good for him, eventually. Once his body got used to them. So far, they just incapacitated him for hours on end.

The worst thing that had happened over the weekend? Helen had found out about his grades.

And they were not good.

What? It's not like Francis wasn't smart, he just didn't bother to show up most of the time. Upon reading his dismal grades, Helen had insisted Francis put in two hours a night to catching up on all his missed school work, which he couldn't skip on because she would sit next to him and make sure he knew what he was doing. It was annoying. It's not like Francis was going to go to college or anything like that. So long as he got his diploma, who cares how high his GPA is?

When Francis had tried to explain this Helen had launched into a speech about potential and about all the unused potential Francis had sitting around that would be a shame not to utilize. Francis tuned her out and opened his math book. That had shut her up and she had beamed at him. Francis had rolled his eyes.

On top of all this, Virgil was taking every opportunity to poke fun at Francis, and there wasn't a damn thing the pyro could do in retaliation. If he tried to insult the other boy, he would get a swat from some nearby adult and Francis couldn't physically touch Virgil or he'd be booted from the house. Those were the only two things Francis could think of and neither was very effective anymore. Virgil was loving every minute of Francis' discomfort.

Francis eagerly waited for Monday. It was the first time he had ever been excited to go to school. It would mean getting out of the house for seven hours. Seven wonderful hours away from Bob's constant surveillance, Helen's overwhelming motherly tendencies, and Virgil's smart-ass comments. Francis could go to school and pretend the last few days hadn't happened. Maybe sneak in a visit with some of his friends and explain his absence. He was sure they thought he was dead by now. If they didn't hear from a buddy for a few days, that was the general assumption. They'd probably go looking for Francis though because he was the leader.

Francis went to sleep Sunday night as tired as he had ever been in his entire life. He lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the dark; his muscles ached every time he tried to move so he had just settled for this position. Francis waited for sleep to overcome him and let out a deep sigh. He missed his old life. This new one was strange and frankly, unwelcome.

He liked Dash and Violet okay and Helen was all right if she didn't get too smothering. Lucius was okay too, but Francis had a hard time thinking of him as anything but his mom's ex-boyfriend.

Long story short? Francis wanted out of the Sanctum. At least he could temporarily escape to school. Francis smiled at the thought and blissfully drifted off to sleep.

Author's Note:

Awww, Francis had Dash could totally be BFFs. This is really more of a filler chapter. I wasn't sure what to write to fill all the space. I have some major events that shape the story and that means I need filler to occupy the spaces between those events. Don't worry. There is an event next chapter. I still think this chapter, despite its lackadaisical nature, is pretty good. I'm getting back into that groove. It feels good.

PLEASE REVIEW!

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