I know I did talk a lot about my next fic being one that revolves around a fairground trip, and that is what I've been working on this week, but I've decided to put that on hold, simply because I prefer this idea for a story, I have an idea where this one is going and I didn't really like the fairground one as it developed. So I have revision for A-levels starting now and therefore I will be able to publish less, so I have decided to publish a multi-chaptered chaptered fic. This will be better as I can cut out the period of thinking of new ideas and just write when I have the time. I'm hoping that I will finish this by at least June, and after this, I have another idea for a multi-chaptered fic that will be quite dark, this may change but the heading it's got now is 'Mr McGregor's Marvellous Dreamscape' feel free to speculate but I won't be revealing anything until the story is published.
Review Responses (The Schedule – Chapter 6)
Dude13- Thankyou for pointing out the difficulty in reading my fic, I have taken greater care in the spacing of this and I hope it easier to read. Regarding Frankie's age, I actually went back and changed it, I have edited the age of certain characters in my series as you'll see below if you read this which I hope you do. In the first chapter Mr Herriman said "We are now a grand total of 3 minutes and 46 seconds behind schedule Miss Frances, can't you keep to these basic time constraints? I mean honestly, how hard is it for a twenty-two year old girl to get up in the morning and be ready by 6:20 AM?" However I changed this so it now reads 20, I'm not too sure why I did that, I just prefer the idea of Frankie being 20. I hope you enjoy the chapter =)
Aden666- Thankyou for your suggestions, I never thought of a Bloo Superdude fic, but now you mention it that is a goldmine for story, I think after my two multi-chaptered stories are finished, I will publish short Superdude stories, and maybe a short collection of Jackie's detective agency, those two ideas offer so much! Thankyou for your comments, I have always loved writing and so that certainly means a lot. I hope you enjoy the chapter :D.
This story's chapters are more likely to be around the length of 3-5 thousand words, I would like more chapters with less words in this one. Also this story will have a lot of Terrence in it, but quite different to how he's been depicted before, he is also older. So without further ado, because there's a lot above :P Here is the story of how Mac came to live at Foster's.
Mortal Coil – Chapter 1
"Oh for God's sake," Frankie yelled, finding another piece of rubbish in the hallway, "I thought he'd gotten over this!" The Foster's caretaker grumbled angrily, she followed the Hansel and Gretel-esque trail to its source, and sure enough she could two, young male voices conversing.
"Guys, I thought I'd told you, you can't build a time machine with stuff out of the bin!" She chided the two creators of the disarray outside, an eight year-old boy and his blue globular companion. Mac and Bloo looked up at Frankie, and then back to their 'machine', and then back to Frankie,
"Don't worry Frankie, we'll finish this and go back in time, then prevent ourselves from making a mess," Bloo tried to reassure Frankie,
"Bloo! We can't do that, we have to make a mess to make our time-machine, if we prevent ourselves we'll have never made the time-machine, meaning we wouldn't have gone back to stop our past selves, meaning our past selves will make a mess anyway!" Mac countered as if what he said was the simplest thing in the world,
"Oooooooh," Bloo's eyes widened as the realisation dawned on him, Frankie on the other-hand just looked at the two as if they had three 3 heads,
"What?" She asked snappily,
"Don't worry Frankie, classic time-traveller paradox, if a 'Doctor Bloo' such as myself made the mistake, you're bound not to understand it," Bloo said to the severely confused young woman, who in turn snatched the bent sticky can Bloo was clutching.
"Hey, that's a very important fritz-combobulator!" Bloo barked at Frankie,
"No it's not; it's the can of rice-pudding that someone had for breakfast, minus the rice-pudding," Frankie responded to the figment, her patience wearing thin. "Now come on, dismantle your 'time-machine'," Frankie ordered, adding sign-language speech-marks for emphasis.
"Why can you not contain your jealousy of our future maiden-voyage into the jaws of time?" Bloo cried, his whining undermining what was actually quite a well thought-out phrase.
"When you can guarantee that you're not gonna get ill from handling all of this rubbish," Frankie countered,
"Fine, but when we go back and save Lincoln don't try and get any of the glory!" Bloo huffed while gathering up parts for he and his creator's contraption. He sulkily began taking them downstairs, Mac was too gathering up parts.
"Sorry about your time-machine Mac," Frankie offered, earning a laugh from the young boy before her,
"Don't worry about it," Mac chuckled, "It was Bloo's idea, I was just helping him along, unlike him I know that we were never gonna travel through time" he revealed,
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Frankie replied while gathering up some of the 'machine' to take down to the wheelie-bins.
"I never would think someone as grown-up as you would create an imaginary friend like Bloo,"
"How do you mean 'like Bloo'?" Mac asked, Frankie answered the little boy's question simply by pointing at the azure blob down the hallway.
"Just because I know and like you, I'll give you a second pile of junk absolutely free when you buy the first," Bloo yelled exuberantly at a very-confused Eduardo,
"Why would I want to buy un pile o basura?" Eduardo countered,
"Why wouldn't you?" Bloo retorted, his ridiculous answer being all the convincing Ed needed,
"Ok, how much?" Ed smiled,
"Hmm, for you let's say fifty," Ed nodded enthusiastically and was ready to hand over the cash, until their transaction was interrupted by Frankie, who hurried Bloo away.
"I told you to stop trying to sell people stupid things!" Frankie hissed angrily at the ghost-shaped imagining, who sulked all the way down to the foyer.
"OK man, you, me, video games, now!" Bloo had already started arranging plans the moment their haul of time-machine parts was safely in the dull green wheelie bins outside the house.
"Sorry Bloo, I've got to head home," Mac replied, drawing a frown from his imaginary friend,
"But I've got a craving to beat someone on Battlefield 3!" Bloo whinged at his creator, tugging on his sleeve in an ill-fated to get his friend to stay longer.
"Sorry Bloo, it's already six o'clock, I've got to get back, but I'll see you tomorrow at three!" Mac shouted over his shoulder as he started down the overly-long Foster's path. Frankie and the crestfallen blob beside her shouted a farewell to the little boy,
"If you want to play video games, I've just finished my jobs," Frankie said slyly to Bloo, who's eyes immediately lit up,
"Race you there!" he cried enthusiastically at Frankie, who giggled and rushed into the colourful mansion to follow him, they were so caught up in their merriment, they didn't notice a lanky silhouette, clad in a red check shirt, emerge from the shadows by the gate and begin stalking Mac on his way home.
Mac kept up his pace, the sun was setting and he hated being out when it was dark, and he had the uneasy feeling that someone was watching him. Mac had decided to walk through downtown to try and cut ten minutes out of his journey, a decision he was immediately regretting. The buildings blocked out the little remaining light of the day, and the darkness was certainly not doing anything to alleviate the child's anxiousness, he kept turning around, thinking he had heard sounds, a step, a breath or a whisper. So far though, his suspicions had all been for naught, there was no malevolent presence behind him, yet. However Mac couldn't help but think that there must be one nearby, the graffiti painted alleyways hid gangs of bored youths in their unyielding blackness, and when one is bored they will do anything to relieve it, even maybe harm an eight year old. He really wished he hadn't thought that, his steps increased tenfold, Mac was desperate to escape to confines of the unnervingly deserted streets, he usually stayed uptown, where he lived, where the streets were clean and the people kind, but he was now becoming convinced his quest to get home more quickly may end up costing him much. His heart nearly stopped when a pair of arms scooped him up without warning,
"AAAH, DON'T HURT ME!" He yelled frantically,
"Hurt you, why would I hurt you?" a voice asked him confusedly, Mac knew that voice. He opened his eyes and took in the person before him, a tall, skinny eighteen year-old, his eyes bulged slightly, and he was only slightly, but noticeably shivering, but the skinniness stuck out to Mac the most, he was thinner than he remembered. Despite how frail the teenager looked, he was wearing a huge grin, and his grasp felt strong to Mac, his teeth may have been an incomplete set and out of shape, but that didn't make him look any less jovial. His clothes may have been old and dirty, his hair may have been messy and greasy, he may have looked dishevelled and ill but he felt like a million dollars upon seeing his little brother.
"Terrence!" Mac squealed excitedly, he gave his sibling an eager hug, which Terrence returned warmly,
"Hey little man," Terrence smiled, before hoisting the child onto his shoulders, he finally felt good again as he walked down the street, listening to the exited voice of his little brother, he was home.
"Just these please," Terrence said to the petrol station attendant, who looked down at the items with a dull, lustreless gaze,
"Five-seventy please sir," the teenager verbalised slowly, very slowly, in fact by the end of his phrase Terrence had produced the money from his battered old wallet, put it on the desk and had started out of the shop. Mac was waiting outside,
"Slushy's are still your favourite right?" Terrence asked Mac, who nodded,
"Yeah why?" Mac was silenced when Terrence produced a large container of the purple, red and blue icy drink from his bag; Mac grinned at the sight and thanked his brother.
"Stop thanking me and drink, an don't worry, it's sugar-free!" Terrence laughed, his heart warming at the sight of his brother enjoying the treat, he ruffled the eight year-olds' hair affectionately. Mac started down the street but Terrence once again elevated the child straight onto his shoulders, earning a laugh from the boy.
"Terrence are you coming back from university permanently?" University, Terrence faltered slightly, the boy stayed firmly atop his shoulders but the scruffy teenager could feel his heart plummeting,
"I don't know bud, maybe," Terrence offered, this was enough for Mac, who resumed chatting excitedly about his schoolwork, Terrence listened intently, glad his brother was enthusiastic about school; he didn't want Mac to end up like him. University, he scoffed at the thought, but what else could he have said? He was Mac's hero, he didn't want Mac to know what he was really like, why he really had to go, and he thanked God everyday that his little brother had believed him.
They got to the flat where Mac lived, Terrence didn't feel right referring it to where they lived, he hadn't lived there for some time. He deposited the little boy on the floor, who in turn opened the door with the key he kept in his trademark green backpack. Mac zoomed into the flat, eager to tell his mother the exciting news.
"Mum, mum!" he yelled,
"Mac it's half six! Where've you been," Mac's mother demanded crossly, she was in her mid-thirties, and had put on weight, with her unreasonable hours she had been almost living on fast food for the past year, her business suit was bulging ever-so-slightly, as if it was struggling to keep her body evenly displaced. Mac hadn't had such an unfortunate relationship with food, regular visits to Foster's had ensured he was getting his fair share of nutritious meals, but he worried about his mum, the constant takeaways were beginning to show, she was running out of energy, she was bigger, she was slowing down.
"I'm waiting Mac," she snapped,
"I took him out," Terrence finally made his presence known the his mother, who immediately became rooted to the spot,
"Terrence is coming home from university mum, isn't that great," the child exclaimed ecstatically,
"I said maybe, buddy," Terrence managed a small smile for Mac's sake, however his mood was getting bluer as his mother's stare got colder.
"Mac, how about you go to your room?" Mac's mother suggested tentatively, no matter how she phrased it, there was something forceful behind her soft tone, Mac could tell she was not asking him,
"Go and get that art project you were telling me about ready, then I'll come in and look at it with you," Terrence offered to the confused boy, who toddled off looking unsure, and worried.
"Hey mum," Terrence said meekly when Mac had left the room, however she didn't say anything, rather she looked him up and down, rather in the manner of how something she had just scraped of her shoe would be regarded.
"You're back," his mother choked out the words, as if the very act of saying them was bitter, that hurt, but he knew he deserved nothing better.
"I'm better now mum, I've been in contact with-"
"University?" His mother scoffed, confidence growing back, resentment of her son growing with it,
"What was I supposed to tell him? You know he looks up to me," Terrence pleaded, frantically trying to justify his actions so that maybe, just maybe he could look good in the eyes of his parent again.
"Well let's hope he grows out of that," his mother spat acidly,
"I…I'm sorry," Terrence couldn't think of what to say, "He's such a good kid, I didn't want to-"
"Man up and tell him the truth? Treat him with respect? Not treat him like some stupid child," Terrence knew his mother had every right to be angry with him, but he wouldn't stand for that,
"What good would have telling him done mum? He should never know he's related to someone… someone like me," Terrence admitted his voice laden with shame,
"What good would it have done?" Terrence's mother was getting angrier and she shook from her indignation, "It would have helped him forget you," there it was, that tone again, as if even mentioning her eldest child was like acid on the tongue. "Not a week went by he didn't ask where you were, I knew you'd have lied, it's just like you," Terrence could feel his insides grow cold at his mother's verbal tirade of fury, she showed no signs of stopping though, she pointed a finger at her son's chest, the gesture was accusing and full of rage,
"He could have just forgotten about you, all the trouble you caused me, all the shame. I work so hard to give him a good home and he still hero-worships…well you said it yourself Terrence, someone like you. All I can focus on is how my greatest success, idolises my greatest failure," That was it, she had said it, she really resented her son, he was after all, her greatest failure.
"Leave, and don't you come back here ever again," His mother sobbed, she sank onto her bed and wept, not out of sadness, not because her son was going away again, but out of shame, the raw shame, and the unfairness, what had she done to deserve this, to deserve a child like this? Terrence stood in shock for a moment, he wanted to sob, to beg, to plead for another chance, but he wouldn't debase himself further, he simply turned and left his mother's room, but not before saying.
"I never meant to upset you mum, I never meant to make you hate me this much, I'm sorry," He didn't care how clichéd that had sounded, it summed up his feeling exactly. The weeping woman had no time for him though, still covering her face with the other, she raised a hand and pointed it squarely at the door. He walked out into the living room, he remembered his old life there, and felt a lump in his throat, Christmas mornings and birthdays, Saturday morning watching cartoons, so normal, so sheltered, so dead now. Terrence poked his head into his little brother's room, he wasn't leaving without saying goodbye, the child looked up at him with excited eyes, however that ebbed away when he saw the expression on his older brother's face.
"Hey Mac," Mac knew something was wrong, he was very rarely addressed by his forename where Terrence was concerned,
"You're not staying are you?" Mac immediately countered, he could feel his eyes welling up the seconds Terrence conceded a mournful nod,
"I don't know when I'll be back little man, but you've gotta be strong for mum, she's been working real hard, ok?" The little boy didn't meet his eyes; rather he remained focused on the floor, Terrence heard him sob,
"I don't want you to go," he said pitifully, for all his maturity, his mental and emotional development above those of his age-group, Mac was still a kid, and Terrence had never been aware of it as much as he was now.
"How about you take this?" Terrence offered, handing Mac a small bracelet he had been wearing, Terrence couldn't remember wear it was from or who gave it to him, just that it was important, and nothing now was more important to him than his little brother.
"Whenever you miss me, just look at that and remember that you'll see me again,"
"You're not going to university are you?" Terrence was shocked, but he decided to maybe tell Mac some of the truth, even if it was only some.
"I've been…sick, for a while now Mac, I've been with a friend, and I've been going to a place where sick people like me get better," Mac looked at him through inquisitive eyes,
"Why did you have to lie to me?" His manner was heart-breaking, like a puppy whose master beats it for no good reason.
"I didn't want to upset you, little man,"
"How were you sick?" Mac asked, his thirst for the truth making Terrence's desire to shelter him seem more and more unrealistic.
"Well, there was a…" Terrence abruptly stopped when he saw the silhouette of his mother cast across the room, she had stopped crying, but the look she was giving Terrence was clear, she wanted him out, now. Terrence gave the child a hug, before giving him a farewell, he didn't want to make it more painful for his little brother, who now sat on his bedroom floor crestfallen. Terrence exited the room, and left the apartment, it had gotten colder outside, so he hugged himself as he started down the dimly lit road, leaving his home for the second time in his life.
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