Foster's Fanfiction
Sorry for going a bit mental with the warnings in the last chapter, it was imperative you didn't misunderstand the chapter but I can see now how the whole thing could've come off as patronising, and for that I apologise. So here's another chapter, told almost all from the point of view of my first OC, say hello to Police Constable Dean Malkovich, whose frequency and impact on this story will depend on your reception to him, however he will be in the story fairly frequently anyway, it's just if you guys hate him I'll try to make him appear less. He was conceived in the following thought process; we have caring and compassionate Frankie, uptight and pencil-pushing Herriman, intelligent and creative Mac, friendly and helpful Wilt, narcissistic and attention-seeking Bloo, nervous Ed and kooky Coco. But there's no miserable arsehole, so Dean was born! Enjoy the chapter.
Review Responses
Aden666- Thankyou for the review, I don't want to reveal any of what will happen and I must confess I'm rather enjoying keeping you lovely people in the dark :) so I can't promise Terrence will die any more than I can he will live. Anyway I'm glad you are enjoying it and am even more glad that you are speculating still, here's another irritating cliff-hanger chapter for your consideration, I hope you enjoy it.
Dude13- Thankyou for the review, it's good to know you're enjoying my unique take, I admit that I was considering altering this to make it more conventional but it's good to know you like my weird version. Thankyou for pointing out how mental I sounded, upon re-reading my…shall we say, over-zealous warnings I agreed with you and have now changed them. It was simply because I'm only going to be doing smaller chapters for this story as with A-levels my update pattern is most likely going to be erratic, and therefore it will be drip-feeding of information, however that was quite an important chapter as it was a small segment of the complete story through Mac's mother's frazzled eyes, and I really didn't want it to be misconstrued as shoddy writing. In any case, enjoy the chapter.
Evil Jellybeans- I'm very glad you're so enthusiastic about the story, but I'm sorry to say the chapters may not be up as quickly as you want them, plus I would quite like this to be a long story so it may be a while before you find out why he lives at Foster's. However on the brightside I will definitely not be changing Terrence's 'caring big brother' persona, that's here to stay. Enjoy the chapter.
Mortal Coil – Chapter 3
The wreck hadn't actually been found until around half twelve, over half a day after the collision happened, not a collision with oncoming traffic, but rather one with a tree. There was one casualty, a slightly over-weight lady in her mid-30's, she had her seatbelt on, and there was very little scarring on her body. Moreover the airbag had deployed successfully and she was travelling at a relatively low speed, but still she was dead.
The police arrived on the scene around quarter of an hour later, the person who found it was given a quick check as they had been in some distress when she called, she was around 27, small, with short brown hair, her name was Tracy. She had discovered the wreck on her way back from her lunch break, she had given herself longer as she took a slightly secluded lane, she enjoyed her walks down there, listening to the birdsong, the wind in the creaky boughs. If Tracy had known what was down there she would have expected there to be no birdsong, rather a sinister quiet, but no. There was birdsong on this day, there was sunshine, and there was not a cloud in the sky. It was a beautiful day, and that either made it worse or better, for Tracy it made it worse, as she thought the weather should at least be dull or rainy, this just seemed insulting.
However for PC Dean Malkovich whose job was identify the body, it couldn't be better, he wasn't going to say, "Oh, all these years on the job had numbed the pain," he hated that stupid cliché policeman routine, he didn't like rooting through the pockets of cadavers, he would rather get it over with, but the sun made the whole morbid affair more bearable. That's not to say he wasn't in a foul mood, he always was, but at least he could get a tan whilst fondling the dead. The body was in good condition, he'd faced some really bad ones, people who had been pulped, and bodies that had been burned to a cinder, this woman however was intact, her final expression was still on her face. She looked in pain, it wasn't like she had been screaming, but she certainly looked like he had been in discomfort, acute discomfort.
He slipped on a rubber glove, and started tentatively began fumbling through the dead woman's pocket. He found a mobile first; it only had a few numbers; Mum, Dad, Home, Work One and Two. That was it, no friends, but the constable rooted further, trying to find a wallet ideally, a wallet full of ID cards and licences. If he could find that he could cut the job short and get onto the next bit. He found the wallet, and determined the woman's identity, from the photos in there, it was clear that she had a child. Damn it, that was going to make this more difficult than it needed to be, kids always cried, he wasn't scorning them for doing so, they were only kids, but he still hated telling them their mother wasn't coming home. Most did cry, however he'd encountered some pretty weird reactions over his relatively short career. One kid went silent for 3 minutes, before snapping and attacking the constable with a knife, one kid just sort of laughed while hugging himself, they were the most surprising. However from the pictures, this smiling child didn't look odd at all, just a child, just some kid, another one who's world was going to have to be turned upside down from a visit by the constable, time to fuck up someone else's life.
"I'm sorry, he's already left, it's past the end of the day, but hmm, if it's really important I know where you may get him." It had been a long day, a very bloody long one; Dean had gone to the address listed on the woman's ID to check if there was anyone in that he could break the news to. Of course there wasn't, however they determined that the woman's child attended the nearest primary school, so Dean headed there. The first thing he noticed was how nice the school was; it had a lovely playground, complete with climbing frames and a pit of sand. This was so much better than what he had as a child; his school playground was nothing more than a square of tarmac. That annoyed him, it was all a bit too cutesy, a bit too sweet, there were chalk drawings of bumblebees on the ground, coupled with rainbows and flowers, it was a lovely school, but an irritating place. He'd entered the halls and asked at the reception where the child's class was. They'd directed him to the recently vacated classroom he found himself in now. Dean didn't know why the fish-lipped hag on the front-desk hadn't just told him what he was now being told by the school teacher before him. The dark-skinned woman was patronising, that annoyed him, he was not one of her children to teach, he was at least 4 years her senior, he didn't like that. The woman finished her sentence and just stood there with a sunny smile on her face,
"And where may that be?"
"Where's that?" She asked cheerily, he sighed sharply,
"Where I will find the child?" Dean snapped, she didn't at all seem offended by his rude demeanour, that annoyed him as well; she should at least react rather than keep up that awful, sickeningly sweet act.
"Oh, well I remember he made a movie for school once that said he goes to a house full of imaginary friends every day after school,"
"Are you mocking me madam?" Dean was certainly not in the mood to be made fun of, and woe-betide her if that was indeed what she was doing.
"No, no I know the place, I'll write you the address," she immediately produced a piece of paper and began searching for a pen,
"Madam, you could just tell me,"
"Oh nonsense, what if you forget?" Talking to this infernal teacher felt like being force-fed icing, her overly friendly manner put Dean in mind of a puppy and a kitten hugging, that vexed him.
"Well there you are, I hope you find him," She handed the constable the pink piece of paper and smiled, she kept doing so until he began to move out of the room,
"If…you don't mind my asking, why do you need him?" the teacher enquired tentatively, clearly anxious as to what the answer may be. Dean sighed, he shouldn't, but she would find out eventually, everyone would.
"His mum's just died," she stopped smiling, and Dean didn't see her now sombre expression change as he left the colourful classroom. He even started to think that he preferred her when she was smiley, he was starting the magnified version of her transition that would almost certainly take place with the child when he got to…he squinted at the barely-legible writing. When he got to Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends.
Frankie had been able to tell something was wrong with Mac, but she could also tell he didn't want to talk about it. He had entered the expansive Foster's lobby at his normal time and hadn't immediately ran upstairs to greet Bloo, rather he trudged in, but Mac immediately corrected himself when he saw he had company. The boy would wear his heart on his sleeve, but today he had tried to hide his blatant sorrow, Frankie knew Mac would rather keep his troubles to himself, but that didn't mean the redhead wasn't going to try to cheer him up.
"Hey pal, nice day isn't it?" Frankie greeted the child, who immediately plastered a fake smile across his face.
"Yeah Frankie, it's…lovely," Mac's demeanour was irregular, he rappidly switched from seeming too happy to clinically depressed.
"Well, I for one could really use a cool-down," Frankie grinned drawing a suspicious look from Mac.
"How about I go and get the cover off the pool," Mac genuinely lit up at this, he loved the Foster's pool, but the recent foul weather had made going anywhere near the pool a very unadvisable thing to do. However today, the sun was shining and there was not a cloud to spoil the gorgeous sky, when one left indoors it felt as if they were sitting around a campfire due to the city's newfound heat.
"Really?" He smiled, it was clear though that his problem, whatever it may be was not going to be fixed simply by swimming, but if Frankie could alleviate his troubles even slightly, then she could be happy. She was a caregiver by job and nature, when one she knew was in strife, Frankie wanted, no, needed to make it better, and the doleful boy before her now piqued the same response.
"How about you go and get Ed, Wilt, Coco and Bloo and I'll get the pool ready for you,"
"Ok," Mac replied with a small smile, he was nowhere as near as enthusiastic as he should've been, but he seemed happier than when he first entered the foyer. As Mac began to make his way upstairs Frankie poked her head into her boss's office,
"Hey Mr H, I was gonna get the pool up and running,"
"Capital idea Miss Frances, it has been too long since our residents have been able to cool themselves in the swimming pool." He replied, making a paragraph out of a phrase as was his wont.
"Yeah… it is hot Mr H, so I was gonna… well you know-"
"Have you finished your afternoon jobs Miss Frances?" Herriman knew exactly what she was trying to ask, so he cut her off in favour of waiting the uncomfortable five minutes for her to decide upon the right words.
"Yes,"
"Well then what you do with your time is of no concern of mine," The young woman brightened immediately,
"Thanks Mr H," She wasted no time in exiting the office, giving the old hare no time to change his mind. A nice dip in the pool, the sun on her body and a chance to try out that new swimming cossie she had, nothing could spoil this day.
Dean was even more angry by the time he reached the infernal funhouse, that moron had given him the wrong address, it turns out Foster's was on Wilson Way, not Wilton Way, this had added a bloody half-hour to his day when he had driven to Wilton Way, which had turned out to be a truly horrid little industrial estate that could only be made to look good if there was a violent apocalypse. He wasn't looking forward to telling a child what had happened to his mother and he was hungry, added to all this he didn't have enough to moan about.
The house was very, very, very big, as well as painted in a mismatch selection of tones making it look like a massive piece of patchwork. Dean retracted his earlier comment about the sun, it was now too hot, he hated it when it was too hot, almost as much as he hated it when it was too cold, and it would be at someone's peril if they got him started on mild weather. He trekked up the path to the door, and before immediately getting into 'the zone', there was an excess of whinging little whelps at the station who always complained, 'oh I have trouble connecting with people' and 'oh I can't break the bad news because I can't express my emotions'.
They really got under Dean's skin, he could connect with people and express emotions, in this case sympathy, Dean's problem was that there was very little that he didn't hate, the term 'miserable bastard' had been chucked about a lot so say the very least. He should've been so unsuited to breaking the worst news to people, considering he could pick out the bad points in anyone, really anyone, but for some reason it came pretty easy to him, well easier than it should, it was never particularly easy to tell someone their loved one is dead, but life goes on. Dean realised how stupidly inappropriate what he had just thought was and mentally chided himself, the PC definitely couldn't say 'life goes on' while breaking this news. The Constable banged the massive door knocker and waited, until he heard a click and the door was opened by no less than a man-sized rabbit in a suit. Dean was slightly taken aback, and took a second to regain his composure,
"I erm… I'm police constable Dean Malkovich, and I'm looking for a Mac-" Dean didn't need to say the child's surname, the rabbit's eyes immediately became worried, his brow furrowed and he let Dean in promptly,
"Is this serious?" Mr Herriman asked anxiously, it was evident that it was serious considering a policeman was now standing in the Foster's foyer, but the rabbit sought any way out of the terrible situation he was in, he was desperate to hear the PC say that it was the wrong house or than Mac had just been caught littering.
"I'm afraid that his mother was involved in a traffic collision late last night, she did not survive." It wasn't often that Mr Herriman lost him composure, but today, the grey old rabbit cared not who saw him lose his balance with shock. The Foster's house president didn't even feel the touch of the concerned policeman helping him back to his feet, and as the PC tried to get the rabbit to tell him the location of the child, all Herriman could think of was the tender, caring and selfless boy, whose life was about to be ruined.