The Incredibles

All's Fair in Love and Glory

Chapter Nine: Too Late to Apologize

Warning: this chapter will actually be true to the story's rating of TEEN. (But otherwise the story's pretty much PG, huh?)

Later that night, Helen lay awake, watching the giant dark mass of her husband's back rise and fall with the breaths he took. He lay on his side, facing away from her, so she couldn't tell if he was asleep or not.

"You're still awake, aren't you?" Bob mumbled, his voice muffled by his pillow.

"Yeah," Helen whispered.

Bob rolled over and kissed her gently.

"Bob, I shouldn't have blown up at you today—"

"Shhh," Bob said placing his finger on her soft lips. "You had every right, honey. I should be the one apologizing. I know you're going through a… tough time, and you have to know that I would never want to be with anybody else."

He heard a sniffle in the dark.

"Oh, Helen, I'm sorry," he said quickly.

"No, don't be. I'm just… overly emotional. You know. Because of…"

"Right."

"This is just so awesome, honey," Helen murmured, squeezing Bob's massive shoulder. "I've never heard you talk like this before, really…"

"Well, there was that one time when we were fighting the Omnidroid, making deathbed confessions…"

Helen smacked him.

"Don't ruin the moment."

"Sorry."

Helen kissed him.

"Don't be sorry. About anything. I love you just the way you are."

"No matter what happens?"

Helen smiled. He was quoting their vows.

"No matter what happens."

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Violet awoke to the noisy ringing of her phone.

"Oh, shit," she whispered, snatching it and pressing it to her ear. "Who are you and why are you calling me at this absurd hour?"

"Violet?"

It was Tony.

She took a shallow breath, not saying anything for a moment.

"Are you still there?"

"Maybe."

"I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry. I'll hang up now."

"Well, I'm awake now," Violet grumped, stretching and sitting up. "So talk."

"I didn't think you'd pick up," Tony admitted. "I… don't really have anything to say.

Violet groaned, quite audibly.

"You could start by apologizing for waking me and possibly my entire family at one-in-the-freaking-morning." She paused. "And for being such a jerk today. Your little tantrum caused an explosion, you know that? And I took the blame for you."

"I did not," Tony said, chuckling appreciatively at the retelling.

"You did," Violet retorted, laughing herself.

She stopped suddenly. They were acting like they were still boyfriend and girlfriend! Tony must have shared her sentiments, because he went silent.

"Hey, Vi… Well, I'm sorry I woke you up, all right? I'll let you get back to… sleeping or whatever."

"You called me for a reason, Tony Rydinger."

He sighed.

"Good night, Vi," he said quietly.

"Don't you hang up on me—"

Beeeeeeeeep.

"Screw you," she snapped, slamming the phone down. "I broke up with you, anyway."

Then she drew her knees up to her chin and cried.

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Her first instinct was to throw all her weight into one good hard slap, but her hands were severely damaged, so she barely restrained herself.

"Hello," Mirage said, her voice cold and professional.

Syndrome jumped, looking up.

"Oh my God," he said, standing and reaching for her.

"Don't touch me," Mirage replied, backing up.

"Oh, right. The burns," he said softly, sounding disappointed. He desperately wanted to grab her and shove his tongue into her, among other tasteless, unmentionable things he enjoyed doing.

"What I mean is, stay the hell away from me," she hissed.

Syndrome's face contorted.

"Well, babe, this isn't quite the happy reunion I dreamed of," he managed, with a chuckle he had to struggle to produce.

"Oh yeah? Me either. But nothing says 'I love you' like practically being blown up!"

She was shaking with rage.

"I never meant—"

"Get OFF my ISLAND!"

"Sorry babe, no can do. Y'see, there's nothing in the will about it. But it doesn't matter, since I'm not dead and the island is still most definitely mine."

"How are you not dead, anyway?"

"I'll tell you later," Syndrome decided. "Right now I want to show you the new hospital wing – in which you currently reside."

"I'm sure you'll be putting it to good use soon," Mirage said dryly.

"You're not going to hurt yourself, are you?" he asked, nervous.

"No more than you already have," she said under her breath, adding aloud, "Funny – you never seemed concerned with my well-being before."

"Look, if you're still talking about that incident with Incredible—"

"That, and the fact that you left me alone for three months…"

"You're sure talking well for having such extensive injuries."
"You just wanted me weak upon your return so I would fall back into your arms," she snorted.

"All's fair in love and glory."

"This isn't a goddamn war game, and you're not the hero. You've hurt so many people. Especially me."

"Maybe so. But isn't it worth it, now that I'm back? We can go back to the way things were…"

He traced his finger over her puffy jaw and she drew in her breath sharply.

"It's so very convenient that you only have to wait a couple of days to get back into my pants," she murmured, holding her head up – though it pained her. She smirked. "I bet you're regretting putting that medicated water out for me now."

"I didn't come here just to have sex with you," Syndrome pouted, insulted. "And you're being very unprofessional right now."

Mirage looked down at him pointedly.

"Touché." Syndrome cleared his throat and smoothed down the front of his supersuit. "When can we stop arguing?"

"Will we ever, …Buddy?"

Syndrome shook his head, both impressed and disgusted at her quick intellect. Very few could shoot comebacks like her.

"Why'd I hire such a smart person?"

Mire turned her back to him. "Why'd I fall in love with one?"

She turned to leave and Syndrome's mouth went slack.

"Babe," he called. "I—"

Annoyed, she turned back.

"I think you should get back in bed and rest," he finished, his voice faltering slightly as it broke.

"I'm fine, thank you," She replied stiffly.

"Hey, a guy's gotta make a grant entrance," he added weakly, trying pathetically to explain his actions. "Right?"

As he watched her walk back in the direction of her office, he realized she had never been in this wing of the building and probably didn't know where she was going. He also noticed the regal way she carried her self was turning into a limp - the painkiller's he'd put into her glass of water were wearing off.

Note to self: no more blowing up stuff. You think it's cool. She doesn't.

In her bare feet and hospital gown, he knew the burns on her feet would be hurting very soon, very badly. He winced as he watched her crumple to the floor a moment later, crying out in pain.

So he went to pick her up.