Evelyn Pine was a woman of strength and resilience, standing at 5'7" with a light olive complexion that hinted at her mixed heritage. Her chestnut brown hair fell in natural waves to her shoulders, framing a face marked by a small scar above her left eyebrow—a reminder of her past as a superhero. Her hazel eyes sparkled with warmth and intelligence, reflecting a depth of experience that came from years of balancing her roles as a mother, a retired hero, and a mechanical engineer. At 38, she had transitioned from the world of capes and masks to a life of innovation and advocacy, serving as a spokesperson for superheroes while designing advanced technology that made the world a safer place.
The evening had started quietly in their comfortable upper-middle-class home, spacious and tastefully decorated with family photos and high-tech gadgets that spoke to Evelyn's engineering background and the family's superhero legacy. The soft ambient lighting and the faint hum of an advanced security system provided a calm backdrop as Evelyn sat watching the evening news.
The TV anchor's voice was urgent and steady, recounting the events unfolding in Metro City—details of a train derailment on the railway bridge, a daring bank heist by the notorious Bomb Voyage, and amidst all the chaos, reports of a young boy with rocket boots causing quite the stir. Evelyn's heart clenched painfully as she watched the images replay—the twisted metal, flashing lights, worried faces of emergency responders—and her mind immediately went to the one person she feared most: her son, Buddy.
Her breath hitched when the phone rang sharply, breaking through the tension. Seeing the caller ID, Sergeant Laura Harris, Evelyn answered without hesitation.
"Evelyn," Laura's voice was calm but carried an edge of urgency. "Buddy's safe. We've been taking care of him, but there's been quite a night. You need to come to the station."
Relief washed over Evelyn, quickly mingled with worry. She hastened to get ready, aware that every second mattered. The weight she bore was heavy—the responsibility of a mother, a former hero, and a woman trying to keep her family whole amidst chaos.
As she stepped into her sleek car, the city lights played off the polished interior. The drive to the station was tense yet surreal. Evelyn's mind raced through memories of her own time in the hero world, the balance between fame and danger, and the constant struggle for public trust. Now, as a spokesperson for the superheroes, she knew how delicate that balance was—and how incidents like tonight threatened to tip it over.
Her gaze flickered to the glowing screen of her phone, replaying the news footage in snippets. The public perception was fragile. She thought about how the media would spin the story: a ten-year-old boy in a superhero suit caught amid disaster and the destruction of the railway bridge due to negligence from Mr. Incredible. How would this affect the image of all Superheroes? The thought weighed heavily on her, but above all, her priority was Buddy's safety and well-being.
As spokesperson for superheroes, Evelyn knew the delicate balance their community maintained with the public. Incidents like tonight threatened to unravel years of carefully nurtured trust. She pondered the possible repercussions—the doubts, the fears, the backlash. How would this night reshape the narrative? She silently vowed to protect Buddy's safety and the heroes' image alike.
At the station, the world felt colder, more urgent. Officers moved swiftly through the corridors, the buzz of radios and ringing phones a constant backdrop. Evelyn's breaths were shallow as she waited, pacing the lobby, until Sergeant Harris led her to the room where Buddy sat, his small figure hunched, exhaustion palpable.
The sight of her son stirred a mix of overwhelming relief and profound sorrow. She approached him slowly, extending a gentle hand, seeing the fatigue etched deeply on his young face, the faint traces of the night's ordeal still visible.
"Buddy," she whispered softly, her voice a balm in the sterile room. "Let's get you home."
Supporting him carefully, they left the station behind. Evelyn's arms cradled Buddy as they stepped into her car, the quiet hum of the engine masking the whirlwind of emotions she fought to control.
As they drove through the city toward home, Evelyn watched her son's steady breathing, eyelids fluttering but sinking quickly into sleep. The rocket boots—symbolic of his heroic aspirations and the weight he bore—remained on his feet. She knew she would have to remove them once they reached the safety of their home.
Her mind drifted to his father, Thomas Pine—known in the hero community as "Volt." A man gifted with electrical powers, Thomas had been a beacon of hope and courage, whose life was tragically cut short while saving civilians during a disastrous accident years ago. His legacy lived on not only in the city's memory but within Buddy, whose spirit seemed to carry flashes of his father's bravery and determination.
Arriving home, Evelyn gently shook her son's shoulder, whispering softly to rouse him. But seeing the peaceful rise and fall of his chest, she stopped herself, choosing instead to carry him inside with tender care.
In Buddy's bedroom, Evelyn carefully eased him onto the bed. She reached down and gently removed the rocket boots, placing them with reverence beside the bedside table. The insignia on his suit was worn but proud, a testament to the boy's resilience.
As she straightened the covers, Evelyn sat quietly, her thoughts swirling. Buddy was unlike any child she knew—a blend of her own steadfastness and the electrifying spirit of his father. She vowed silently to protect him, nurture him, and help him find his own path—one where he could be both the boy she loved and the hero the world might one day need.
The city lights outside dimmed as night deepened, wrapping the house in soft shadows. Evelyn whispered once more, "You're braver than you know, Buddy. Just like your father."
And for a moment, in the quiet stillness of that room, hope flickered gently—fragile but steadfast.
~End of Chapter~
*This is a work of fiction and is intended for entertainment purposes only. I do not own The Incredibles or any of its characters, settings, or related intellectual property. The Incredibles is the property of Pixar Animation Studios and Disney. This fanfic is created purely for the enjoyment of fans and is not intended for profit. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*