Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles
Chapter Fifteen: Ghosts of Christmas Past
"Hit the fucking 'A' button!"
"I am!"
"Tell that to Bowser!"
Francis threw his remote control down and glared at Virgil. "Either you want to save the princess or you don't. Which is it Sparky?"
Virgil fumed back at the pyro. "Keep playing Hothead. I know what I'm doing."
Violet shook her head in wonderment at the two bickering teenaged boys. "You take your video games way too seriously."
Francis scooped his controller up and scowled, smashing at the 'Start' button with his thumb. "I don't like to lose."
Violet rolled her eyes and resumed reading her magazine. "Yeah. I got that."
"Ready?" Virgil asked as the game restarted and the Mario and Luigi appeared on the screen, ready to face off with their nemesis once more.
"Let's kick some dyno ass." Francis growled.
On the coffee table, Francis' phone vibrated. Violet scooped it up. "Oooh, a text from Frieda."
Francis startled and whipped around to face Violet. "Give that to me."
"Let's see what it says." Violet cackled evilly and opened the text.
"Dude." Virgil said, still concentrated on the game. Explosions and fireballs danced across the screen. Mario stood stock still, Luigi fighting a one-sided battle. "Dude!" Virgil shouted, trying to get Francis to pay attention. Bowser squished Mario and laughed at the screen. Game Over.
Virgil threw his controller at Francis. "Dude, what the hell?"
"Sorry." Francis got to his feet. "Give that to me." He advanced towards Violet.
She already had the text open. "Had a lot of fun last night. Call me." Violet quirked an eyebrow at Francis. "What did you two do last night?"
"None of your business." Francis flushed a bright red and made a grab for the phone. Violet kept it out of his reach.
"Give it!" Francis leapt at her. Violet yelped and scrambled to get out of the pyro's grasp. They chased each other around the room. Francis ended up on one side of the coffee table, Violet on the other. They circled each other warily.
"Hey Helen." Francis waved at the doorway. Violet turned to look and Francis jumped over the table, snatching his phone out her hand.
Violet stomped her foot in irritation. "You jerk."
Francis pocketed the phone and stuck his tongue out at Violet.
"Real mature." Violet crossed her arms.
"So what did you and Frieda do last night? You went to her cousin's house for a party didn't you?" Virgil asked, switching the TV to a sports channel.
Francis fell backwards over the armrest and lay sideways in the chair. "Yeah."
"Well…" Violet motioned for Francis to continue.
"Well nothing." Francis scowled. "It's none of your business."
Violet studied Francis' face for a moment. "You kissed her, didn't you?"
Francis didn't answer but his face darkened into a deeper shade of red and he coughed uncomfortably.
"You did! You totally kissed her!" Violet screamed in delight, hugging a pillow to her chest. "And she liked it!"
"Knock it off." Francis muttered.
Virgil rocked back and forth on his butt, grinning up at Francis. "Awww, that's soooo cute."
"Shut up." Francis grabbed a pillow and threw it at Virgil.
The younger boy grabbed it and hit Francis on the leg with it. "I'm surprised. It only took you four months."
"So how was it? I bet it was romantic." Violet sighed dreamily.
Francis buried his face in the cushion. "I hate you guys."
"Francis!" Dash burst through Francis' bedroom door and leaped onto the bed, jumping up and down over the teen's sleeping form. "Francis! You gotta get up! Mom says we can't do presents 'till everyone's in the living room! C'mon!"
Francis rolled onto his back and squinted up at Dash, then over at his alarm clock. He groaned. "It's seven in the morning."
"But it's Christmas!" Dash shouted too loudly for Francis' liking. "C'mon!" Dash pulled at one of Francis' arm. The pyro didn't budge. He actually cracked a smile at Dash's efforts.
"Get off me Shorty. I'll get up." Francis dislodged the little boy from his arm and sat up, swinging the covers off himself. He yawned noisily and stretched his arms and back.
Dash frowned. "Well hurry. I hate waiting."
Francis chuckled quietly. "Yeah, whatever. Go away."
Dash obeyed and sped off, presumably to the living room where the Christmas tree was situated with dozens of sparkling presents beneath it.
Francis threw on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers and swept a comb through his hair. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He needed a shave, red stubble crept along his jawline and up to his sideburns. He'd deal with that later. Francis padded out of his room in sock feet and walked into the living room.
Everyone was already there. Bob was in his armchair and Helen and Lucius had the couch, Helen with a sleepy Jack-Jack on her lap. Violet, Dash, and Virgil were sitting on the floor, watching a claymation Christmas special. Everyone had a mug in hand, for the kids it was hot chocolate and for the adults coffee.
They looked up when Francis entered. "Morning. Drink?" Helen pointed at the coffee table where a mug was waiting for him. Violet patted the carpet beside her. Francis settled down next to her and grabbed his drink. The marshmallows floating on top hadn't quite dissolved yet. Francis drank those first and then held the warm mug in his hands.
Dash was practically vibrating with excitement. "Can we open presents now?"
"Yeah, I think we're all here." Bob said, sitting forward and laying his mug on the table.
Lucius turned down the volume on the TV.
Dash whooped in delight and reached for a present.
"Hold on one second mister." Helen stopped her son. "You know the rules. We go by youngest."
Dash frowned at Jack-Jack. "No fair."
"Pass a present this way." Helen said.
Virgil found a present with Jack-Jack's name on it and handed it to Helen, who opened it on behalf of her youngest child. It was a couple of new picture books from Lucius.
"Aww, thanks Lucius." Helen smiled.
"No problem." Lucius smiled. He looked over at Dash. "Okay, now it's your turn Speedy."
"Yes!" Dash searched for a present with his name on it. He tore the wrapping apart and stuck the bow on Violet's forehead. "Aw." It was a sweater.
"Dashiell Parr." Helen scolded.
Dash rolled his eyes. "Wow, neat sweater. Thanks." He said, heavy on the sarcasm.
"Let's see you try it on." Bob said.
Dash reluctantly pulled the sweater on over his pajamas and crossed his arms petulantly.
Virgil laughed. "Don't worry. You've got more presents coming."
"They'd better be good." Dash muttered.
"Okay V. You're up." Lucius gestured for his son to take his turn. Virgil unwrapped a new video game he'd wanted for months from Helen and Bob, whom he thanked profusely. He had his phone out and was texting Richie the good news before Violet had even found her present. She got a package of nail polish and a new necklace from her parents.
"Okay Francis. Your turn." Bob said.
"Huh?" Francis looked up startled. "My turn?"
"Yeah. Open your present." Violet handed him a gift with his name on the tag.
Francis took it warily. "You got me a present?"
"I think there are several with your name on it." Lucius smiled.
"But I…I didn't get you guys anything." Francis stammered. He held the present gingerly, as though it would bite him.
"That's okay." Helen shrugged.
Francis couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a Christmas present, or even celebrated the holiday. Hell, he didn't even know if he was Christian. His mom had never told him. He'd always let Christmas fly by every year, appreciating the decorations that made his otherwise depressing neighborhood somewhat festive and the spirit of goodwill that made shopowners easier to rob during the winter when he needed cash the most. He wasn't sure what to do now.
He unwrapped the gift slowly and stared at the deluxe mechnics kit that must have cost a pretty penny. It had almost every tool imaginable. He could do all sorts of work on the bike with this stuff, maybe even the others cars on the garage. Francis could already feel the wrench in his hand. He looked up at the adults who were smiling down at him. "Thank you."
"You're very welcome." Helen said.
Lucius clapped his hands together. "With the kids out of the way, I believe it's my turn. Hand me one of those, the biggest one please."
After all the presents were unwrapped and thanks expressed, Helen and Lucius went into the kitchen to fix breakfast while everyone else sat around the TV, playing with their new toys and watching some more TV specials. Bob bounced Jack-Jack up and down on his knee, a Santa hat on his head. Francis looked around the room and smiled. This felt good, it felt nice.
He'd gotten some books, a couple of movies, some sports equipment, and a few clothes to go along with his mechanics kit. He'd never gotten so many things all at once before. Not even on his birthday.
"How you doing kid?" Bob looked over.
"Fine. Good." Francis smiled. "Real good."
The rest of the day passed by in a blur. There was a huge breakfast, a snowball fight, a trip to the sledding hill in the park, and an even huger dinner.
Everyone in the Sanctum went to bed happy, full, and warm.
The door creaked open, spilling a little light into the dark room. A woman silently creeped in, her hands on her chest. She stared at the little boy asleep in the bed. The crack of light from the doorway fell across his face, illuminating his fiery red hair, which had tumbled over his forehead in his sleep.
The woman tiptoed nearer and brushed a lock of hair away from the boy's eyes. She smiled softly at him, her hand lingering on his cheek.
Suddenly, the boy stirred. He blinked blearily, struggling to focus on the silhouette standing over him. "Mom?"
"Shh." The woman sat on the bed beside her son, smoothing the covers around him. "Go back to sleep."
"What're you doing?" The boy yawned. It was the middle of the night. The only sound was their whispering.
The woman looked around the small, barren room. It was temporary, as soon as she came back from this last mission, she and her son would move to a house of their own. She would get a job and he would go to school and their lives would be normal. She smoothed a strand of her own red hair behind her ear.
One of the boy's arms crept out from under the covers and reached clumsily for her hand. "Why're you wearin' that?" He grabbed her hand and examined her Supersuit, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He'd never seen her in uniform. He was too young to understand what that meant.
The woman bent over and kissed her son's forehead, smiling at him. He sleepily smiled back. "I'm going away for a little while."
"How long?" The boy held back a yawn and tried to sit up. His mother held his shoulder down and he was too tired to protest. She busied herself with making sure he was comfortable. She fluffed the pillow beneath his head and wrapped the comforter around him. The boy settled back into the mattress, eyes struggling to stay open.
"A few days. Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it." The woman sounded so sure of herself the boy found no reason to question her. Not that he would anyway. She'd never lied to him before.
"Okay." The boy murmured. Sleep was overtaking him.
"While I'm gone, I want you to behave yourself, okay? Listen to what Dicker tells you to do. No more setting things on fire."
The boy nodded, a grin sliding over his little face. "Okay."
"You promise?" The woman held her hand out, pinky finger extended.
The boy wormed his arm out from under the covers and linked pinkies with his mother. "I promise."
The woman smiled. "Good boy." She stood up and became a shadow in the light from the doorway. The boy couldn't make out her face. He squinted at her. Her figure was fading, the light was dimming. He was drifting back to sleep.
"I'll see you in a few days Francis." The woman said. She was at the doorway, turning to leave.
Francis wanted to call out to her, to make her stay. He didn't want her to go. But he was so tired he couldn't make himself move, couldn't even keep his eyes open. His mother shut the door behind her, bathing the room in darkness.
Francis bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. He was tangled in his sheets and he whipped them away from his body in a sudden fury. He held his head in his hands, struggling to ease his heavy-breathing.
He hadn't had that dream in a while. Francis stood up and groped for the light switch. He was slick with sweat. Francis leaned against the cool wall for a moment, gathering his thoughts. In the dream, he hadn't seen his mother's face. He couldn't remember what she looked like, but he remembered her voice. The way she had soothed him that night, the last time he had seen her alive. Francis remembered how she'd coaxed him back to sleep, even when he'd had more questions to ask her. How safe he'd felt. Then Francis remembered that she'd lied to him. She hadn't come back in a few days. She hadn't come back at all.
Francis punched the wall, then again. The crackling of the dry wall was the most satisfying sound he'd ever heard. He stopped and listened. Francis didn't want to wake the Parrs. They'd come rushing in, all concerned and wanting to touch him, wanting to comfort him. Francis didn't want that.
The only sound was his own harsh breathing.
Francis straightened and ran a hand over his forehead, wiping the sweat away. He opened his bedroom door and tiptoed into the hallway.
Lucius had always been a deep sleeper. When Virgil had been a baby, his wife had complained that she always had to be the one to soothe the baby when he woke crying in the night because Lucius never stirred. Perhaps, that is why, when Lucius woke at three in the morning to a light tapping on his bedroom door, he was surprised he'd even heard the sound. In fact, he thought he was dreaming and turned over to go back to sleep.
When the tapping persisted, Lucius sat up and rubbed his eyes. It couldn't be Bob or Helen. If they needed him in the middle of the night it was usually for a crime and the alarm would go off. That was loud enough to wake him no matter how deeply he was sleeping.
It could be Virgil, although Lucius had no idea why his son would need him at three in the morning.
Lucius groaned and swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his bathrobe.
Lucius' room was different from the other bedrooms in the Sanctum. It was more of a suite. Lucius' bedroom connected to a living area with a couch, a TV, and a few bookcases. He also had his own bathroom. It was nice to have his own space because, as much as he loved the Parr family, sometimes he and Virgil needed to be on their own for a few hours.
Lucius opened the door and was surprised to find Francis standing there. The teen was only wearing a pair of sweatpants and a wife beater. He looked awful, there were dark circles under his eyes and Francis was paler than usual. He was staring at the ground but looked up briefly when Lucius answered the door.
"Francis. What's the matter?" Despite being half-asleep Lucius could tell something was wrong.
"I…I don't…" Francis trailed off. "I dunno."
"Come in." Lucius stepped aside to let the pyro enter. Francis stepped in and stared at the room. "Do you want to sit down?" Lucius gestured at the couch.
Francis stood frozen in the doorway. He gulped and rubbed his arm nervously.
"C'mon." Lucius guided Francis over and sat him down. "What's wrong?"
Francis ran a hand through his disheveled spikes. "I…I had a dream."
"Okay." Lucius sat down next to the teenager. "What was this dream about?"
Francis hesitated. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, forcing the words out. "My mom."
"Ah." Lucius nodded. "This wasn't a good dream was it?"
Francis shook his head.
"Do you want to tell me what happened in the dream?"
Francis shook his head again. "No." Another deep breath. "I just…I wanted. Shit." He leaned his head back against the cushion and stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know what I want. I don't know what to say."
Lucius looked at the boy beside him. Francis looked very young and very vulnerable. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."
"Okay." Francis closed his eyes again.
"Can I ask you a question?" Lucius said.
"Sure." Francis said softly.
"Why did you come to me?"
Francis sat forward and turned to look at Lucius. "This is gonna sound weird, I guess, but you knew my mom. And my dad. You knew them best, right?"
Lucius nodded. "I was very good friends with both of them. We were a team. Sure, things got sort of messy towards the end when relationships got complicated, but they were my friends." He stared at Francis. "They were very good people."
"That's what people keep saying." Francis sighed. "But then why'd she leave?"
"I don't understand." Lucius said.
"Why did she leave me?" Francis asked, a quiver in his voice. "I was just a kid. She had to have known there was a chance she wouldn't come back, why would she leave. Wasn't I important enough to keep her there?"
Lucius reached over and put a hand on Francis' shoulder. The teen flinched away from the touch. Lucius pulled his hand back. "I'm sure you were more than important enough. You probably meant everything to Blaze. Just, sometimes, Supers hear that calling and that can't get it out of their systems. It's like an itch they can't scratch. One more mission and they'll be done. They just need that last thrill." Francis didn't look as if he understood. Lucius continued. "Take Bob, for instance. Do you think he loves his family?"
Francis nodded. "Yeah."
"More than anything. He would die to keep his family safe but even he got caught up in the allure of one last mission." Lucius watched Francis' face.
Comprehension flickered across the boy's features. "Okay. I get it." Francis said. "Like a druggie."
Lucius faltered at the comparison. "I…yeah I guess so."
"It's like they could be the ultimate family guy but when that craving hits that's all they can think about." Francis was tracing circles on the coffee table with his socked foot.
"Yes. It's like that." Lucius agreed. "It doesn't make the person bad and it doesn't make the people who need them not important enough for their attention."
Francis nodded. "Yeah."
The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Francis broke the quiet. "I don't remember what she looked like." He laughed bitterly. "I don't even know what her real name was."
Lucius looked surprised. Francis shrugged. "No one ever told me."
"You really don't know anything about your parents, do you?" Lucius asked slowly.
Francis shook his head.
"Do you want to?" Lucius asked.
"How?" Francis responded.
Lucius stood up and walked over to one of the bookshelves. He searched for a few minutes until he found a leather-bound photo album. He returned to the couch and flipped the album open. Lucius searched through several pages until he found what he was looking for. He passed the album to Francis.
Francis looked at the photos. They were of three young people, in their early to mid-twenties. They were all very strong looking and wore matching uniforms with the Greek letter beta emblazoned across their chests. The Beta Force. Francis' eyes widened. Lucius stood in the middle of the three, smiling widely at the camera. To his left was a thin woman with red hair. She was smiling coyly, one hand sassily on her hip, the other around Lucius' shoulders. His mom. To the right was a muscular man with bright green eyes who seemed to be forcing a smile. His dad. Francis stared dumbly at the photo for what seemed like hours.
After a few minutes Lucius reached over and turned the page. More photos of his parents. His mom at a computer. His dad throwing a football to Lucius. The three of them in their secret lair. One of his mom hamming around with his dad, teasing him. She was draped over one of his burly shoulders, threatening to pull his mask off. His dad looked exasperated but was genuinely smiling. His mom was enjoying the attention. Francis looked at that one for a long time. He wished they weren't wearing masks, so he could see their full faces, but this was better than nothing.
"I mean it when I say you're parents were good people. Annoying at times, sure. Tempermental, oh yeah. Good-hearted and loyal, to the bone." Lucius ruffled Francis' messy hair and grinned. "All traits they passed onto you."
Francis looked up for the first time in a long time and returned the grin, his eyes glassy. "Yeah?"
"You bet kid. I see both your parents in you."
"Cool." Francis turned away and ran his forearms across his eyes quickly. He handed the album back. "Thanks."
"No problem."
They got up and Francis walked towards the door.
"If you ever want to talk about your parents, or about anything, I'm here. Bob and Helen too." Lucius said.
"Yeah, thanks." Francis said. He opened the door.
"Wait!" Lucius pulled one of the photos out of the album and handed it to Francis. It was the one of his mom hanging onto his dad. "Merry Christmas."
When Francis got back to his room the first thing he did was put the photo in his desk drawer, between two pages of a book where it wouldn't be ruined. He shut the drawer and crawled back into bed, quickly falling into a dreamless slumber.
Author's Note:
Look! An update! That didn't take too long right? One of the weirdest things about fanfiction is having to write about Christmas when it is about 90 degrees outside. It's hard to do. When I thought about this chapter when I was first conceiving the idea for this story, all I had was that dream. I knew I wanted to include that dream. I built the rest of the chapter around it. What do you guys think?
PLEASE REVIEW!
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