Disclaimer: I do not own The Incredibles or Static Shock

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Everything's Coming Together

"No fair!" Virgil jumped back to his feet and created an energy shield around himself. Francis laughed and continued launching fireball after fireball at the other boy.

Across the Hangar, Violet and Dash were facing off. Dash's speed was countered by Violet's force fields.

High above them, a green flag and a red flag hung from the ceiling. Francis and Dash wore green armbands, and Virgil and Violet wore red. The first to claim the opposite colored flag won the training exercise.

"Sorry Virg, but I'm gonna have to ground you." Francis cackled. His eyes glowed red as he continued to keep Virgil busy with barrage after barrage of flames.

Violet noticed her teammate was in trouble and threw a force field in front of Francis, causing his own fire to come roaring back at him. Francis dropped to the floor and then brought his arms up block a tazer punch. "Ow! Dude." Francis whined and rolled to the side, wincing as sparks danced up his arm.

"Sorry." Virgil raced for his disc and flew into the air.

Dash raced across the room and used his momentum to zoom up the wall and launch himself into mid-air, tackling Virgil inches away from the flags. The two crashed back to the ground and Dash stole Virgil's disc, running away laughing. Virgil gave chase.

"Alright Shorty!" Francis pumped his fist. His celebration was cut short when he was shoved from behind. Francis caught himself with his hands and somersaulted into a crouch, facing his invisible opponent. "Sneaky, I like it."

"Then you'll love this." Violet attacked from the left this time, using a force field to bounce Francis into the wall. Violet then turned towards the lopsided race around the Hangar and used another force field to trip Dash up.

"Nice one." Virgil magnetically summoned his disc into his hand and jumped onto it, flying up to the flags once again.

Francis used flames to propel himself into the air. He and Virgil reached the flags at the same moment and Francis grabbed onto one of the hooks and kicked at the other boy. Virgil dodged and threw another tazer punch. With his hands occupied, Francis couldn't block and the punch connected. The sudden rush of electricity coursing through his system caused Francis to let go of the hook and plummet to the ground.

Violet caught Francis with a force field and smirked at him, pointing upwards triumphantly.

"Game, set, and match!" Virgil crowed, green flag in hand.

Dash kicked the ground. "Aw."

The two teams shook hands. "Almost had me there." Virgil clapped Francis on the back.

Francis shrugged. "Almost. We'll get you guys next time, right Shorty?"

"Right." Dash nodded enthusiastically. "That was fun!"

Up in the control room, Lucius and Bob were watching the kids tease one another.

"What do you think?"

Lucius smiled. "I think they're working like a team. They're clicking."

Bob nodded. "I agree. Even with Dash as a new addition to their training, they've really started to move and think like a team."

"You thinking we should start letting them out into the field, get their feet wet?" Lucius asked.

After a moment of consideration, Bob nodded again. "Yes, they're ready."

Even though school was officially out for the summer, Francis and the other teenaged Supers of the Sanctum continued to make the commute to Dakota on a daily basis. Violet found herself hanging out with Richie more and more often, and even enjoying some of his geekier hobbies. Virgil and Daisy were busy planning for their trip to Miami, they'd already booked their tickets for the same flight. That left Francis and Frieda with plenty of alone time away from the group. Alone time on a bench in the park, at the back of a darkened movie theater, in Frieda's bedroom while her parents were at work. They weren't picky.

The summer hadn't become too unbearably hot yet so one day, when Daisy suggested they all have a picnic in the park, the others readily agreed. They met in a shady corner of the Dakota Municipal Park and spread their checkered blanket out on the grass. It was late morning, and the park was filled with people. The playground swarmed with kids celebrating their freedom from school while their parents and nannies watched from benches. There was the odd businessman trying to enjoy a peaceful lunch in the sun. It was a beautiful day.

The group was lounging in the shade under a grove of trees on the edge of a grassy field. Virgil brought out the soccer ball he'd carried along and soon he and Francis were passing a soccer ball back and forth. They seemed to be in a competition, who could hit the other with the ball the hardest. Daisy jumped up to join them, and the game mellowed out, while Richie, Frieda, and Violet started a game of Spoons with a pack of cards Richie had brought.

As the sun grew slightly hotter, Francis left the game and flopped onto the ground next to Frieda. He threw an arm over his eyes and within seconds he was asleep.

Frieda chuckled and nudged her boyfriend with her elbow. "Francis, why'd you stop playing?"

Out in the sunshine, Virgil and Daisy had attracted the attention of some of the little kids and were patiently passing the ball around to the gaggle of youngsters while they ran screaming after one another, flagrantly disobeying the rules of soccer by trying to pick the ball up and hurl it at one another.

"It's hot." Francis mumbled.

Frieda looked at Richie, who shrugged. It was pleasantly cool in the shade, but it didn't seem too hot out.

"And 'sides, if I stay in the sun too long I'll get all freckly." Francis muttered again, even quieter. He sounded half asleep.

Frieda almost dropped her cards. "What? You get freckles?" She wrenched Francis' arm away from his face and examined him. Sure enough, faint brown dots had appeared on the bridge of his nose. Frieda squealed happily. "Get back out in the sun until you're covered in freckles." Frieda tried to sit Francis up and he collapsed against her like a ragdoll, a teasing smile on his face. "Aw, c'mon. Don't go boneless on me. I demand freckles."

Richie snickered behind his cards. Violet just shook her head, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

"Fine, be that way." Frieda passed a bottle of water to her boyfriend. "You'll have a faceful of freckles before the summer's over. Mark my words."

Francis flopped over onto his stomach, idly sipping at the water and helping Frieda with her hand of cards.

"I think that's cheating." Richie accused. He turned to Violet. "Don't you think that's cheating?"

Violet put her cards down. "Maybe we should play a team game."

"Euchre?" Frieda suggested.

"Sure."

"Hey." Richie collapsed onto the blanket beside Violet. He was breathing a little heavily from running around with Virgil. "Where did the lovebirds go?"

Violet looked up from her book. "To get ice cream."

Richie nodded. "Ah. How romantic."

Violet smiled.

Richie pointed behind him. "I think Virg and Daisy are going to go try and get our ball back from that disturbingly large five year old who ran off with it."

"It's my little brother's, I hope they get it back." Violet marked her page and turned to Richie. "What do you want to do now?"

Richie shrugged. "Dunno, want to go get some ice cream too? It's getting kind of hot out."

"Sure."

Violet tried to stand but her feet were tangled in the blanket and she started to topple over. Richie shot up and grabbed Violet around the waist to steady her. Violet put her hands on Richie's chest and then suddenly found her mouth alarmingly close to his.

Then she closed the distance and kissed him.

Richie stiffened and jerked away in surprise. Violet put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't…."

"No. No. It's not you." Richie hurried to explain. "It's just that, I'm…" He trailed off and stared at his feet. "I'm gay."

Violet's face burned red. "Oh!"

"I didn't want you to think, I don't know what I didn't want you to think. And it's not that you're not…because you are…but I'm just not." Richie's cheeks were red too.

Violet had never heard Richie stumble over so may words before. She shook off her surprise and then started laughing. Richie looked offended for a second before Violet threw her arms around him. "Richie, it's fine. You've just been such a good friend to me lately. It seems like everyone else was pairing off and you and I just fit together so well. But it's fine. Really. I'm happy for you." She pulled back and smiled at him. "Let's go get that ice cream."

Richie smile was so big it nearly split his face in two. He offered Violet his arm. "But of course madam."

It was the hour of the day photographers call "the golden hour." The sun was dipping towards the horizon and everything was bathed in a soft, golden light.

Unusually, the highway was completely devoid of cars. Francis pulled up at a red light and flipped his visor up to wipe at a trickle of sweat. Violet had her head resting against his back, just enjoying the warmth of the setting sun.

The pumping bass line of a rap song approached them from behind and then pulled up alongside them. Francis turned his head and was greeted with the unwelcome sight of Wade sticking his head out the window of his truck, grinning at him.

"Hiya Francis. Funny running into you here." The truck was filled with members of Wade's crew, and they were laughing and nudging one another.

Francis felt Violet sit up and tighten her grip around his waist. "Hi Wade."

"How's your summer going? Still seeing that pretty little redhead?" Wade was trying to act friendly, but his sneer wasn't helping him sell the effect.

Francis gripped the handlebars.

Wade looked up at the traffic light. "Hey, what do you say we have a little fun Francis?" Wade pointed at the light. When that light hits green, let's have us a little race. Down to that intersection, it's about a quarter mile. See who's faster, you on your little crotch rocket or my brand new truck."

Francis eyed the intersection and then slid his gaze over Wade's truck.

"Francis." Violet whispered. "This is a bad idea."

"What d'ya say?" Wade revved his engine.

Francis turned slightly in his seat. "I can beat him."

Violet shook her head. "Mistake. This is a mistake."

Francis frowned and checked the light. Still red. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." Violet replied.

"Then hang on." Francis flipped his visor down and grabbed hold of the handlebars. The guys in Wade's truck whooped in delight. Wade smirked.

Violet tightened her grip. "You better win."

All eyes went to the traffic light. The only sound on the deserted street was the sound of engines revving.

The light flashed green.

The truck and the motorcycle took off in a cloud of smoke, their wheels leaving black streaks behind them.

Francis definitely had the advantage. He and Violet were lighter and faster on the motorcycle than Wade's truck was, filled with guys. Francis pulled ahead slightly. They were approaching the intersection fast. Then Wade fell back even more and pulled up directly behind the bike.

Francis whipped his head around to see what the other boy was doing and caught a glimpse of Wade's smirk through the windshield. Wade had never wanted to race. Francis tried to swerve away but Wade accelerated and the truck collided with the back of the motorcycle.

The impact, combined with Francis' attempt to turn them away at the last moment, wrenched the bike into a sharp turn and they flew off the side of the road. Francis was airborne for what seemed like forever. He saw his bike skidding along the cement, sparks flying. He saw Violet crash to the ground and her head bounce off the ground like it was made of rubber. He saw Wade peel away, laughing. Then everything went black.

Francis came to slowly. Everything was blurred and seemed dark. Then he remembered his helmet visor. He wrenched his helmet off and tried to sit up. Dark spots exploded across his vision. Francis groaned, and got to his feet, then bent over and dry heaved. Everything hurt. He swayed on his feet and put a hand to his head to try and steady himself.

His shoulder and back throbbed. When he touched it, the skin was hot and his fingers came away red.

It was darker out, but the sun hadn't quite set yet. He couldn't have been out for too long. Francis stumbled and fell to his knees.

Violet.

Francis' head shot up, eyes wide. Where was Violet?

He frantically looked around. She was lying on the other side of the wrecked motorcycle, unmoving.

Francis got to his feet again and stumbled over to her, falling at her side. Her helmet was cracked on one side. There was blood on her neck and face. Francis felt for a pulse in her wrist and gasped, choking back tears, when he found one. Weak, but there. Francis fumbled around in his pockets until he found his phone, miraculously still in one piece, and called for help with shaking fingers.

He hated hospitals. Really, really hated hospitals.

Francis sat on a bed, alone in a private room, waiting for someone to tell him what was happening. His shoulder and back had been wrapped and bandaged after a doctor had spent what felt like an eternity picking gravel and glass out of his skin. They called it road rash. It had stung like hell, but after swallowing a little blue pill Francis wasn't feeling much of anything.

Except worry. Violet hadn't moved at all in the time between when Francis had found her and when the ambulance had arrived. He'd been afraid to move her, he remembered reading in one of the medical textbooks for his Super homework that you shouldn't move someone with a head injury.

At the hospital, Violet has been whisked off in a different direction and Francis hadn't seen her since. Helen and the others had arrived, and she'd checked in on him once to make sure he was alright before disappearing. So now he was waiting.

Francis wanted to get dressed and go find Violet, but his shirt was shredded from the asphalt. He decided it didn't matter.

It turned out to be pretty easy to find Violet. He asked one of the nurses to show him where the Parrs were and she pointed out the room. Violet was lying in the bed, unconscious, with her head bandaged. Her arm was encased in a cast of plaster. Helen sat beside her, holding her uninjured hand, being careful of the i.v. Bob was leaning against the wall, his face stormy. Dash and Virgil were sitting on the other side of the room, looking concerned. Virgil held Jack-Jack, who for once seemed to understand the gravitas of the situation and was being quiet and non-combustible.

Francis stood in the doorway, not sure whether he should go in or not. Bob looked up and noticed the teen standing there, gripping the doorframe for balance. "Francis."

Everyone else looked up at that.

"Oh, Francis honey." Helen ran a hand over her eyes. "I forgot, are you alright? What happened to your arm?"

"I…"

"What the hell happened?" Bob demanded.

Francis faltered. He struggled to come up with a coherent thought.

Bob crossed the room, pulled Francis inside, and shut the door. "What the hell happened?"

"Bob." Helen got to her feet.

"No Helen." Bob stopped her. "I trusted him to keep our daughter safe on that goddamn motorcycle and now look. What happened? Did you lose control? Did you hit something? I'm not going to ask again."

"I messed up." Francis managed. Bob's grip on his arm was painful. The medication they'd given him must be wearing off. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Bob asked, incredulous. He gestured at Violet with his free hand. "You're sorry! Look at her, they had to drill into her skull and that's all you can say, you're sorry?"

Francis just shook his head and pulled away from Bob. "I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, you didn't mean to. I guess that makes it okay." Bob sneered. His face clouded over with anger again. "As soon as we get out of here, I'm calling Dicker."

Francis felt whatever blood was in his face drain away. "What?"

"I don't want you in my house, I don't even want to look at you right now." Bob turned away, taking Helen's vacated seat and began gently stroking Violet's hand. All of the anger drained out of his features and was replaced with worry.

Helen turned from Francis to Bob and finally settled on trying to get Bob's attention. "Bob, we're all upset, but let's not say things that we're going to…" Helen stopped mid sentence. "Francis?"

The door was open and Francis was gone.

Author's Note:

Oh boy. It's late and I'm tired so if there are any typos or whatever, I'll get them later. I really wanted to get this chapter out today for two reasons, so it wouldn't be longer than a month since my last update, and to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Titanic sinking. Come on. How often do I get to say that? I have this really weird love/hate thing going with the Titanic. I'm fascinated by the history of it and I like reading the stories from the survivors, but at the same time it terrifies me. It's probably why I'm scared of cruise ships. It's also why I hate the movie Titanic. I know for most people it's this giant, sappy romantic love fest. For me, it's a horror movie. I don't like sitting and watching hundreds of people die horrible, horrible deaths. I don't do horror movies.

Now about the actual story, things are heating up again. There's three chapters left so you know I've got to bring this thing to a climax. I hope you guys like it.

PLEASE REVIEW!