Chapter Four: Reality Sets In

Mac stared at his brother, barely breathing, unconscious on the floor. He tried to kill me, Mac told himself. It was self-defense. The splintered glass from the vase lay on the carpet beside him. He rocked back in forth, his brother's and his own blood scattered around him. I have to help him. He's family, the good side of him said. He tried to kill me, why should I care if the son-of-bitch dies? Because...Mac tried to back that thought up. Because...because it's the right thing to do.

He rolled his brother over so that he was face up. Shards of glass had imbedded themselves into Terrance's face and Mac's fingers. Pain was something he was used to, self-inflicted or not. He shoved a pillow under Terrance's head. He slapped his brother. "C'mon Terrance,' he whispered. "Wake up. Please." He glanced at the knife, only a few inches from Terrance's hands. Just in case. He picked it up and pushed the blade back into the handle. He sat down on the floor again, playing with the blade. There really wasn't anything else he could do for him. Then he looked over at the phone. Steeling a quick glance at his brother, pale and bloody, he dialed 911.

Mac climbed out the basement window, looking back once more at his brother. He scowled. "I hope you do die before they get here," he murmured as he stepped out onto the grass. That son-of-a-bitch would have killed me, he thought, and I helped him. I helped him and he would have killed me. He wasn't paying attention to where he was walking. He smacked into Liz.

"Oh my gosh, are you ok?" she said immediately. Mac couldn't say anything. He had a knife, he had just cut himself, he had just nearly killed his brother, and nearly got killed himself, and...and of all people Liz had to smack into him. Liz...she started it all. She's the root of this. It's her fault. What does she want now? To push me over the edge this time? Why doesn't she just kill me if she doesn't want me around so much? Liz stood over him, her shadow casting over him blocked out the last of the sunset. "You never called," she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "No time," he finally said. Sirens struck Mac suddenly. Liz turned to see what to commotion was about, why there were sirens, and Mac stood and walked around her. He continued to walk. Walk anywhere. Then he ran. What am I running from? He stopped at the gates of the Foster's Mansion. He pushed the gates open and started walking toward the door. I don't know if I can handle Bloo right now, he told himself.

Mac opened the door. He didn't even bother to ring the doorbell. "Master Mac," Mr. Harriman said, hopping after him. "I do hope you can calm Bloo." Mac heard Bloo's voice coming from the kitchen. "That is so not worth five Jumpy Jellies!" "Cocococococo coco cocococococococo!" Mac rolled his eyes.

Mac popped his head into the kitchen. Coco and Bloo were sitting at the table, Bloo with a box of Jumpy Jellies in front of him. Coco had a tray of cupcakes in front of her. Bloo stood. "Mac! My man! What's happenin?" Mac put his hands on his hips. "Ah, someone doesn't mind soggy sleeves," Bloo said, referring to Mac's red sleeve. Wilt came out of the Pantry. "Ok who's gonna help me make cup..." Wilt stopped when he saw Mac. "Hey Mac," he said. "Wanna help..." Mac interposed, "No time. Bloo, forget the stupid Jumpy Jellies. Leave Coco alone. I have to go talk to Frankie." Bloo started to follow Mac, but stopped to snag his Jumpy Jellies and stick his tongue out a Coco. She gave him and angry frown.

"So what're you gonna talk to Frankie about?" Bloo posed. "None of your business," Mac responded, feeling his anger rise. "Oh c'mon, you can talk to me," Bloo urged. "Not about this," Mac said. "Please!" Bloo pleaded. "No. You'll tell everyone." Mac told him. "Nut-uh! C'mon Mac, I'm your best pal! Aren't I?" Bloo asked. "Yes," Mac answered. "Then tell me!" he insisted. Mac didn't answer. "Please? Please? Please? Please please please please please please please please please pleeeeeeeeeeeease?" Bloo pushed. "No," Mac said, "and that's final. Now go to your room and play with Edwardo. I'm sure he's lonely." Bloo started to feel angry, concerned and sad at the same time. "Fine," he said calmly. "If you don't love me anymore..." Bloo waited for Mac's protest. "Bloo, please don't do this today, you know your best friend," mac told him. "Ok..." Bloo whined.

Mac reached Frankie's door, but before he could knock the door flew open. "Mac! I was so worried! You didn't talk for like 5 hours and then you answered and oh my god! Are you okay?" Frankie blurted. "Frankie...I think I'm the one who should be worried about you," he retorted softly. Frankie let out as nervous laugh. "Yeah, I guess," she said. They stood awkwardly for a few minutes until Frankie finally snapped back to her senses and let him in.

"Frankie," Mac started with a sigh. "I need to talk to you about something." Frankie began to look worried. "I kind of, did something I didn't really...something I'm beginning to regret..." Before he could finish Frankie was squeezing him. "Mac I know. Why didn't you tell me on the phone? I could've kicked Bloo out. You know you can tell me anything." Mac choked. "Frankie..." he said. "I can't breathe." Frankie let go of him. "Sorry," she said with embarrassment. Mac cleared his throat and began, "I didn't tell you on the phone, because it hadn't happened yet." Frankie blushed. "It's about my brother. He told me to make him dinner and I told him to make his own. And then he kind of, tried to kill me," Mac added a nervous chuckle. "So in self-defense I...I..." Mac stammered. "Mac," Frankie said reassuringly, "what did you do?" Mac cleared his throat again. He played with the glass in his finger, feeling every movement of the shard. "I hit him with a vase. And then I took his knife." Mac pulled his knees to his chest. I'm so lame. The fetal position. How is it comforting? Mac pulled the knife out from his back pocket and threw it on the floor in front of Frankie. "I watched him. That son-of-a-bitch would've killed me and I helped him. That son-of-a-bitch would've killed me..." Mac's voice lowered until only he could hear himself talk. That son-of-a-bitch would've killed me...

He couldn't hear anything. Not even himself. Only the rain. Rain? It's raining? As he slipped back into consciousness, he could hear others around him. "I don't know, he was just sitting there talking to himself, and I tried to snap him out of it, but he just kept staring and rocking back and forth...and then he passed out cold. I don't know what happened," he could Frankie saying to Mr. Harriman. "Mac?" Bloo said. Mac looked at him through one eye. His other was still closed. "What happened?" M ac shook his head. "That son-of-a-bitch would've killed me..." Mac whispered. "What?" Bloo said. "I can't hear you Mac. Mac?"

Mac blocked out everyone else. He rolled his sleeve up and looked at the crusted blood around his cut. "That's not cherry cool-aid..." he heard Bloo say. Mac felt light-headed. He shook his head again, trying to remain conscious. "That son-of-a-bitch," was all he could say. ...and I helped him. He couldn't help but wonder where Terrance was, if he was still alive, if mom was wondering where he was. Not likely, he told himself. She barely cares for me at all.

"Mac, Mac, stay with us Mac," he heard Frankie saying. His vision was blurred. He couldn't see straight. "But I don't want too..." he muttered. "Mac," repeated. She slapped him lightly on the cheek. "Mac, Mac," she kept saying. He closed his eyes and rolled over. He didn't want to be awake right now. He didn't want to wake up again, ever.

Mac opened his eyes. "Damnit," he whispered. His head hurt like the fucking dickens. What did I do last night? And then he remembered. He passed out.

Frankie and Bloo were staring at him. Frankie had dark rings under eyes and Bloo looked refreshed. No doubt he was sleeping while Mac was. "Mac," she said with a yawn, "are you okay?" Wilt was also in the room, he noticed, and he looked equally as tired as Frankie. "You guys I'm okay, really. I just...I don't know what happened." Bloo jumped on the bed next to Mac. "Yeah well I do," he said in his usual voice. "you passed out and had us all worried sick. Cherry cool-aid. Ha," he said playfully, narrowing his eyes at Mac. "I'm onto you. That had to have been cranberry-grape, or at least fruit punch." Mac smiled. "Ugh," he groaned, sitting up. "I have to go to the bathroom." He stood and almost fell over at the door. "I think Bloo should take you, or else you'll fall down the stairs," Wilt joked, but he knew it was true. He would fall down the stairs, and it wouldn't be a pure accident.

"That was refreshing," Mac said, stepping out of the bathroom. "That was one rough night you had pal," Bloo said, making sure Mac wasn't about to fall. Mac shrugged. "I've had worse. I just need to know what time it is. I can't afford to take a whole day off from school." Bloo frowned. For once he was being serious. "You're not going anywhere, buddy. School can wait. I mean look at you! You can't even walk on your own!" Mac pulled his arm from Bloo's grip. "I can too," he said, trying to balance himself. But Bloo was right. He fell down just then. Bloo started to laugh, and for once Mac did too. "Mac this is just like old times, ain't it Mac?" Bloo reminisced, sitting next to him on the floor. "Yeah," he said staring at the cathedral ceilings of the mansion. Bloo sighed. "We'd better get you back into bed," Bloo said suddenly. "Wait," Mac said, "something's wrong with you. You've never been this responsible." Bloo laughed. "Watch your words Mac," Bloo chuckled, and led him back to Frankie's room.

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Author's Note: Ok, that's the end of chapter four. I posted chappies 2, 3 and 4 all on the same day! Wooooo for me! Anyways, let me know if the rating is too high/low. Ta-hankies (my word for thanks)!

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