Chapter Text
Veronica barrels down the road in a glittery, red, sleek, two-person convertible, not as nice as Mirage’s black car, but nice none the less. She glances over to Kid in the passenger seat; his breathing is heavy, but he’s still out cold.
“I hope you know how hard I worked to convince them to let me do this. They didn’t even want you to go home.” She says lowly to him, knowing he’s not listening. “...I just hope you’re actually okay. You gotta be, alright?”
She looks at his slumped posture and sighs hard.
“You just... you have to know I didn’t want any of this. Why’d you have to go and chase us, huh? I barely convinced them to let you live. I don’t want to hurt you, Dash! I really like you!”
She’s more-so trying to convince herself than anything else. Anything to not be a part of the problem. Her eyes water a little. “I wish it was different. I wish... I wish you weren’t a hero. Then maybe you’d understand.”
She looks at him for a moment and pushes his hair out of his face.
“...Would you understand?”
She sniffs and continues driving to his house.
Bob takes off down the road. His frustration has turned to focus, and his demeanor is rough, merciless. He sits in thought for half an hour, asking himself what he’d actually do if Dash was hurt, and if he found the person responsible. The last person that messed with his family was... him... and he didn’t survive, he couldn’t have. Though these were Bob’s thoughts, his face gave away his doubts. If she somehow returned, who’s to say what’s possible? And that girl, that girl has something to do with all of this. When he finds her-
But it’s not a matter of when anymore. As he passes a red car heading in the opposite direction, he sees his son slumped over in the passenger seat, with none other than that girl as the driver.
He hits the breaks and swerves on the road, creating tire marks, before eventually sharply turning around, and racing after her.
Once he catches up, he hits a button on his dashboard, flipping over the black circle on the hood of his car, and revealing its signature red color. Though, with a quick switch flip, it starts flashing red and blue.
Veronica checks her mirrors, and panics. The only thing she can see is red and blue, and Buddy gave her two rules when taking out this car. Don’t wreck it, and don’t get pulled over.
“You can see why they can’t be registered under our real names. And you aren’t even on the insurance.” His warning to her suddenly popped into her mind.
“Shit.” She says, feeling the car behind her inching closer and closer. She looks back once more, before deciding to floor it, pressing the petal flat against the floorboard. A puff of black smoke clouds Bob’s view, and before he can even react, she’s gone.
He grunts as a furious expression forms on his face, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles as he follows suit.
Luckily for Veronica, a small town made of a gas station and just a few buildings provided a perfect alley way for her to park in and watch the pseudo cop car speed right on by. She continues at her regular pace and looks at Dash one last time before arriving at his house. She holds up his chin for a moment, and stares at him before saying, “...Oh, right. Gotta make this believable,” as she removes his mask and puts it in his lap.
She slowly stops in front of their house, putting on a worried expression, and turning up the air to try and get her eyes to water.
Bob rushes outside once he sees her car pull up when minutes before he was yelling to Helen about what just happened. She follows him out apprehensively, getting only a few feet further than the out swing of the door.
Veronica gets out of the car, just as Bob reaches the passenger door. He throws it open, breaking a hinge, and gently grabs his son, holding him for a moment in relief. But when he looks up at Veronica, who is slowly approaching them, Bob holds Dash tighter, and turns him away from the on-coming threat.
“I-I just found him like this, on my way out, and-” she feigns ignorance.
“LIKE I BELIEVE THAT BULLSHIT!” He yells though jagged teeth.
She stands frozen in front of him, looking worried, more so for herself than anyone else. His ice blue eyes are stuck on her brown, doe ones.
“...I know what you are.” He says, holding his son close to his chest. “You’re a monster. Just like the woman who picked you up. Just like the man you work for.”
“I...” She says, trying to find any words to help her. As she fears a click, she slowly says in fear and rising tensity, “Let me explain, please-”
“Tsk, explain what?” Bob replies with an almost amused tone. He turns to Helen, who reaches out, and takes Dash from him. She gently lays him down on her lap.
Bob, with his back to Veronica, slowly turns to look back at her, “Explain how my son comes back home unconscious? Explain why you’re working with them?” She looks at him in rapidly rising anger. “Explain how ever since you showed up, everything’s gone to-?”
“IF YOU’D JUST LISTEN!” She screams, finally breaking, her voice echoing in the hills around them. “He’d tell you! He’d tell you I didn’t hurt him!” She yells, rushing over to Dash, but before she makes it anywhere close, a giant hand grabs her by the neck.
“And just what were you planning on doing this time?” A low, serious voice booms in her ears.
“Nothing! I just want-” she says, trying to pull a slowly tightening hand away from her neck.
“Want to what? Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” He says through gritted teeth, his hand gripping her neck so hard she can barely breathe.
“Bob!” Helen shouts, “She’s just a kid!” The concern in her voice is palpable.
“A kid who could’ve killed ours!”
While he’s distracted, Veronica finally catches her breath. She begins to speak with a few wheezes, still suspended in the air, angrier than she’s ever been. “You know, you ‘heroes’ are all the same. The moment anyone needs any real saving, you wait until the perfect moment to speak up. To make yourselves look good.” She says, glancing over at Helen. “Or not at all if it’s not convenient for you,” she says, as a bitter memory of her own Uncle’s abandonment floods her mind. She turns her attention back to Mr. Incredible. “And you hate when anyone else does a good thing, because then the world wouldn’t need you anymore. You take, and you take, and you take, but what do you heroes ever give, huh? I wanted to be just like you, strong, capable, a good guy. A real good guy. But every situation is black and white with you people; no one is ever worth hearing out, right?” Her words take on a different tone, one that stings the back of Mr. Incredible’s mind as words that aren’t hers flow out of her mouth. “And if this is what every super is like,” she says looking at the hand around her throat and then back up at his face, “Maybe no one should be.”
She feels slightly regretful and guilty after her last few words. In her anger, she’s denounced not only her childhood heroes, her friend and lifelong crush, but also... herself.
Not that she has any time to think about it though, as Mr. Incredible throws her into the hill across the street. She slams into the grass and rock and slides down on to the shoulder of the road.
She holds the back of her head with a wince looking up slowly, only to see Mr. Incredible with her car held high above his head.
“YOU SOUND JUST LIKE HIM!” He says with a half yell, half cry.
Helen yells out to him, “BOB, DON’T-”
The car flies towards her, and as she stares at it, it starts moving slower and slower. In the reflections of the windows, she sees herself, but much younger, much thinner and beaten down. And then her parents, standing next to her for kindergarten graduation pictures. And then them again, but this time with her uncle too, patting her head for getting A honor roll in third grade. The first picture she’s smiling in. And then her being held in the air by Uncle Lucius, spinning around without a care in the world. As the windows get bigger, she sees the aftermath. Her house on fire, her parents lying limp, a bloody hand moving into view from the back of her head.
And then... chess, lots of it. And food, real food. She didn’t have her uncle, but a few new people. She was less beaten down, less thin, less... sad. She had a new uncle, a new house, a new room, a new family. She sees buddy teaching her how to fix the wires in his arms, and how proud yet annoyed he’d get when she started beating him at chess. How even though he was mean and rash and terrible at times, he was still caring and concerned and doting. She sees her birthday parties ever since she turned eleven; how they were filled with people and smiles and gifts and home-made cake. How every time she’d shown a small interest in something, she’d have ten of them the next day, even if it was something he hated. And how he supported her, through every career change, every school switch, every hard class. And how even though he definitely wasn’t the best, he was still a pretty alright dad.
And then she met Dash.
She instinctively throws her arms up as the car speeds back up again. She engulfs herself in flames, hoping for any kind of protection. But as soon as she does, her splitting head pain returns, this time worse than ever before, and with a scream, she passes out before the car even touches her. But the car continues forward, and as it slams into her limp, fiery body against the hill behind her, it explodes in a burst of red glittery wrapped steel and gas fueled inferno.