Disclaimer: Incredibles © Pixar and Disney
A/N: So due to a mix of life and writer's block, I haven't been updating in a while…whoops. I'm sorry about that but here's a nice update to keep you guys happy.
F O U R
Helen felt like the worst mother in the world. What the hell was she thinking?! She tried to push Violet and treat her like the past ten years never happened and it blew up in her face! She treated her daughter like a fragile little child and not the grown woman she really was. It was just a shock to see her little girl had blossomed into a woman and she hadn't been there to see it. She blamed that man—Violet's husband?!—for everything and he was just an innocent bystander. No, he helped her escape from that place. Helen wasn't blind. She saw the way he touched Violet, the way he leaned close to her to whisper something in her ear, making her smile. In another life, these would be things she would want to see between her daughter and her son-in-law. Son-in-law. Violet was married now. She didn't get to see her little girl get married—either time! She wondered what Violet wore on her wedding day. Who walked her down the aisle? From what she learned from Rick, she must have been so terrified the first time she was married, but the second time maybe she was happy? She had looked so happy before she ruined everything.
When the Parrs returned home, no one knew how to act. Just that morning they thought that they would be bringing their girl home. Now it was just the four of them, four broken individuals who weren't sure what exactly happened or where to move on from there. They ate leftovers, no one feeling like cooking. Dash hurriedly ate and then went to Vanessa's apartment, muttering something about having to make up work since he missed school. Jack went into his room and played with his Legos. He was still a bit too young to quite understand what was happening. Bob had eaten little and didn't talk much. When dinner was over, he reached into his pocket and slammed a small scrap of cardboard onto the counter. Then, he retreated into his den to sleep on the sleeper sofa. Helen did the dishes alone and pocketed the piece of cardboard in her jeans before going upstairs. She took a long shower and climbed into bed. Alone. Then, she scrambled out of bed and took the piece of cardboard out of her pants pocket. It was a business card, silver with black letters. Damien Riley, it read, Head of Foreign Affairs. It was from Globocom, a company that made things for supers that would help them fit in better. Weighted shoes to help young fliers stay on the ground when they couldn't control their powers yet, shoes to help speedsters like Dash stay in shoes longer before having to replace them. Violet had even worn some clothing from them before she disappeared, clothes that would disappear like she did. Globocom had a rumor of hiring mainly supers that couldn't get a job anywhere else. Bob almost applied for a job once before Rick gave him his job at the NSA building training young supers. Then, she noticed something on the back: a handwritten message. "Give her some time to cool off." The handwriting was crisp and neat, written with an ink pen and by, presumably, a man. My son-in-law, Helen mused. She smiled for the first time that night. She looked at her clock. It was six p.m. Far too early to go to bed. She reached over and grabbed the cordless phone from Bob's side of the bed. Her hands shaking, she dialed the number on the business card.
Helen's appointment was at noon. She ventured alone to the Globocom main building. It would have been the right thing to tell Bob, but she needed to do this by herself. She wanted to see herself the kind of man her daughter married. Bob would have tried to tell her that this was a bad idea. It was so easy. She waited until Bob and Dash went to work and school and took Jack to his play group at the NSA building. It wasn't long before she found herself in the lobby of the Globocom building. The receptionist told her to go to the thirteenth floor and she soon became lost among the maze of offices with men and women running around going into different offices and in and out of the elevator. After ten minutes of wondering, she found a door with a paper sign taped to it: Damien Riley, Head of Foreign Affairs. Through the panel of glass in the door she saw a waiting area and decided to go in. Inside, the room was painted a beige color with beautiful paintings decorating the room. Two desks were placed near a set of double doors with a man and woman typing away at computers. Elegant sofas and chairs were in the middle of the room for guests and clients to sit on with a coffee table nearby with books and magazines stacked neatly. Counters were tucked away into a small cubby area near the door and were adorned with a coffee maker and water cooler for refreshments. It was really a nice office, much nicer than the waiting rooms at any doctor's office.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" The man at one of the desks asked helpfully. Helen suddenly felt more relaxed.
"I have an eleven o'clock appointment with Mr. Riley." She explained. The man looked back at his computer and hit a few keys.
"Parr? Well, Mr. Riley is in an emergency meeting with our president so it will be a little while. Please, make yourself at home. We have coffee and water over by the door. I'll let you know when he's ready for you."
"Oh, thanks." Helen said.
As she poured a small cup of coffee and settled down with the latest issue of Superwoman Monthly she realized that the man had gone into her mind! He had made her feel more relaxed and laid back than she had been when she walked into the waiting area. Helen wanted to feel upset but couldn't. She wasn't sure if it was because of his power or just because she was calmer.
After waiting half an hour, two men finally exited the office. One was tall and lanky with very pale skin and white-blonde hair. His eyes were a piercing blue and he had the look that he was bored with everything around him. The most apparent feature of his face was his large hook nose. She briefly wondered just how much money he spent on his dark black suit. The other man looked more familiar to her. He wasn't quite as tall as the other man and wasn't nearly as beefy as Bob. He had dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a bit more casual clothing. He also had the greenest eyes she had ever seen. She would have listened in on their conversation, but they were speaking a language she was not familiar with. Maybe Russian, she pondered. The blonde man nodded to the man and woman at the desks and then left.
"Mrs. Parr?" the dark haired man's English was very good but somewhat accented. He gave Helen a small smile as he approached her. "Damien Riley, we didn't really get a chance to meet the other day."
"Yeah…" Helen felt guilty and embarrassed as she shook Damien's hand. He tilted his head towards his office and suggested they go in for some privacy.
"It's nice to meet you. Violet often spoke of you back…in that place." Damien began as he moved behind his desk. "Please, sit."
"That place," Helen said slowly. "You mean your homeland?"
"No…That place wasn't home. More like Siberia for supers or maybe Hell would be a better term? But I'm glad I went back one last time. If I hadn't—." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Let's just say things would be very different. Violet would have been passed on to another man. The idea makes me sick."
"How did you two meet? No one really knew anything." Helen asked.
"My father's funeral believe it or not." Damien actually laughed. "As soon as I saw her face I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. There were…better options I supposed but she makes me happy and I make her happy. That's what a marriage is, is it not?"
Helen realized that he was asking her seriously. Rick had warned her them that supers from the place Violet was held were a little…odd to say the least but not knowing what a marriage truly is?
"What's marriage in your—in the place you grew up?" she found herself asking.
"Men take on many wives in hopes of gaining strong super powered sons. Women are docile and are forced to produce as many children as necessary. I was told that Violet was a good wife but she was never able to give my father any children. She was a fantastic mother to my younger brothers and sisters though and she is a dutiful wife to me," He laughed, "although she isn't afraid to put me in my place. That stubborn streak of hers is one of the things I love most about her."
"I was so terrible to her. I feel so guilty." Helen admitted.
"My wife—your daughter—has a temper. She was already on edge from the way the NSA were treating us. Give her a little more time and she'll be alright."
Clothes scattered the floor of the hotel room but neither body moved to clean up. Violet lay close to Damien with her head on his chest listening to the steady drumbeat of his heart. She had been startled when he first came home. He had stormed into the room like a madman, grabbed her round the waist and kissed her and then began stripping her clothes away. He did it with no malice but with adoration and it made her happy. They must have made love for hours. Of course, the fact that he was hiding something from her almost ruined everything. Damien was good at blocking his mind from her, an expert really, but she knew that once men had sex on their brains, all of their defenses fell like a house of cards in the wind. She saw two names and both worried her: Mikhail and Helen Parr. So he had seen her mother, the sneaky bastard. Violet slowly got out of bed taking care not to wake her husband. She couldn't be mad about that, just annoyed.
However, Mikhail was a whole different story. He was, in basic terms, Damien's boss. He was the reason that they were hidden from him and one of the reasons why they were so well off. He sent a lot of good "under the radar" jobs to them (her husband especially) and they were thankful. He was a stern man, one who had no quarrel with taking lives and destroying anything that came in his way. Violet had only looked into his mind once and once was all it took to terrify her. She pondered on what he wanted with Damien.
"I hate it when you do that," a lazy voice called from the king size bed. "It's the worst feeling in the world waking up in a cold empty bed."
"I've only been gone five minutes," Violet retorted with a smile. "That bed is nowhere near cold."
"Still empty," Damien shrugged. "Come back to me?"
"What did Mikhail want?" she shot back. Damien moaned and rolled back on the pillow.
"Damn it, Violet. I hate it when you do that."
"I only saw his name, and my mother's." Violet refused to feel guilty about this. She was Damien's wife, damn it! She had a right to know.
"First off, Mikhail wanted to see how I was adjusting to my new position. Nothing more. Second off, I fucking hate it when you dig in my head."
"Then don't hide anything from me." Violet laughed sauntering back towards the bed. "Now, I don't want you to think about anyone else's name but mine."
"Yes, ma'am." Damien replied with a wide smile.
A/N: Again, sorry for the long wait! I wanted to get this up quick so I didn't look over it as well as I normally would. Hope you all enjoy!