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Syndrome's Lullaby
By Ms. Kinnikufan
Disclaimer: I do not own Syndrome or Jack-Jack Parr. I also don't own the lyrics to "Danny Boy" , though I think it may be public domain by now.

Syndrome watched Kari raced away from the Parr's residence like a bat out of hell.
"I can't believe she bought that. Must be on some sort of drugs."
"What kind of parent would live their kid with a baby-sitter who abused drugs?" Syndrome pondered then was suddenly hit with a memory of his mother passed out on the sofa.
He hands began to shake, causing Jack-Jack to wiggle.
He took a deep breath.
"That's over Syndrome. Don't let get it to you. Don't let yourself be weak. You're not 7 years old anymore. You're not Buddy Pines anymore. You're Syndrome, and you're completely in control of things. Completely." He slipped his mask back on, reaffirming that he was not helpless Buddy Pines anymore.
He then turned to see the mess that was once the Parr's living room.
"Must have been some damn good drugs. Probably PCP. I'm surprised she didn't pop you in the oven and cook you like a Thanksgiving turkey." Syndrome said in a cutely voice.
Jack-Jack was apparently not pleased by the statement and began to screech.
"Hey, I didn't mean it!" Jack -Jack spat on him.
"That was totally uncalled for." Syndrome laid Jack Jack on a upturned couch cushion and wiped off the spit-up with a wet rag.
"How could such a tiny kid have so much spit-up in him." Syndrome.
10 minutes later, Jack-Jack was still screeching, even after Syndrome did a diaper check, offered him a pudding cup, a popsicle (which had always worked with his infant sister Theresa), sock puppets, a squeaky toy, cough syrup, and a cash bribe.
"God, kid what the hell do you want?" Syndrome yelled.
Yelling at Jack-Jack only made him cry harder.
Syndrome covered his ears and went to his happily place.
"Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling from glen to glen!" he sang softly to himself.
Jack-Jack began to calm down.
"Huh? you actually like my singing." Syndrome cradled Jack-Jack.
He was hit with another memory:
Mom and dad were fighting again. It looked like it was going to be another fight where the neighbors were going to call the police. People were definitely going to stared at them in church again next Sunday.
Buddy and his little sisters sat in the attic.
"Let's all close our eyes and go to a happy place." Buddy Theresa and Mae clung together.
"And if you come, when all the flowers are dying, and I am dead, as dead may well I be." Buddy and Mae sang, with 5 month old Theresa sucking her fist.
In the Present, Syndrome shook the memory away.
You're not him anymore. You're not helpless anymore. He repeated in his mind.
"I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me." Syndrome finished.
Jack-Jack was now almost serenely asleep.
Then The Parr family barraged back in their house.

Author's note: Maybe it's just the hair and the freckles, but I'm firmly convinced that Syndrome has at least a little Irish blood.