Disclaimer: Still not mine. Sorry to disappoint.

Chapter Seven: Last Trick

"It's not your fault," Frankie commiserated, patting Mac's shoulder and easing herself next to him on the couch. It'd been two days after Bloo's collapse and recapture and he'd wasted no time informing the household. Coco, Ed, Wilt, Frankie and Madame Foster immediately empathized with Bloo. The severe Mr. Herriman became fanatical about banning R.D.'s music, to the point where he reduced Eduardo to tears multiple times. Frankie had snapped, but Madame Foster shot up and, much to Herriman's chagrin, confessed the reason behind his reaction. He thought they mocked a real problem. For all his displeasure with the situations Bloo had placed himself in and the rules he'd broken, he cared about him.

In fact, everyone, inside the house and out, sympathized with R.D./Bloo. Though it had initially been Bloo's fault for bringing himself to Kip's attention for years ago, all agreed he hadn't asked for this. Imaginary friends around Foster's spoke cajolingly to Mac, but their words fell on deaf ears. He'd heard them too many times before.

Hugging his knees to his chest, Mac inched his head down and then up to acknowledge her. When he wasn't at Foster's, tuning out sympathy, he was at home, staring at the ceiling and replaying the day in excruciating detail. There were so many things he could have done differently, especially since he knew Kip's capabilities. In fact, there was only one thing he'd done right the whole day- catch Bloo.

The press finally had a story Kip couldn't stop or silence. (Mac didn't doubt he was trying fervently to quiet them). No matter how you sliced it, five hundred thousand people had witnessed R.D. collapse, saw Mac scream "Bloo!" (an "unnamed brown haired fan", the papers dubbed him) and heard his accusations. Teen magazines published articles frantically, overlooking editing for swiftness. So, while the articles were fraught with errors, they contained the bulk of the matter. Editorialists dissected "Teenage Suicide" endlessly, many missing the point entirely. However, at long last, listeners were catching on. There was more than just a pretty face behind R.D. There was a story.

R.D.'s latest hit, released hastily after his reported hospitalization, received more attention than even "Teenage Suicide". The song about unrequited love and insurmountable obstacles often weaseled its way onto the radio or MP3 players. The hunt was on to discover the object of R.D.'s affection and, if possible, either force them to fall for him or R.D. to concede defeat because they offered more. Fans and magazines alike went nuts guessing, jumping from a normal human lover (usually a girl) to a celebrity (Grey Delisle), or an imaginary friend. The last was deemed least likely (though they had no idea R.D. secretly was an imaginary friend). One hit the nail on the head and named "the unknown fan" as his object. It listed numerous reasons, including Bloo's suddenly important whispers to Mac.

As if the twelve year old didn't have enough to worry about- R.D. had vanished from the public eye concert night. Though many assumed he'd been hospitalized, the sad truth was no one actually knew. Mac's nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Kip had to be infuriated and he remembered all too well his treatment when he was merely furious. More than anything, he feared for Bloo's life. If indeed Bloo was suicidal (and all signs pointed to yes), then Kip might harp on it and drive the imaginary friend to kill himself. His chest constricted thinking about it. His imaginary friend could be miles away and there was nothing he could do to prevent his death.

Madame Foster and Mr. Herriman both insisted he'd know if Bloo was on the brink, but Mac wasn't certain. He hadn't known until "Teenage Suicide" his friend's thoughts and even then, he'd had to hear from the horse's mouth to accept it. He spent the vast majority of his time refuting Herriman's obstinate dismissal of his worries. If he hadn't been so fretful himself, he might have seen the rabbit's rather dubious look. Herriman wondered himself whether Mac's bond with Bloo was as his strong as Madame Foster's with him.

Frankie sighed, hugging him. She ruffled his hair affectionately and waited until he commented. Several minutes passed, but the pre-adolescent merely glared at the unhelpful television. Networks boasting of information on R.D.'s whereabouts were wrong every time. He was sick of lies and sick to death of wondering if Bloo was dead or alive.

"I'm sure he's okay…" she murmured, cradling him like a mother would her son.

Kip paced the hospice waiting room agitatedly. Since he figured the paparazzi flocked to every hospital in the tri-state area, he'd flown R.D. to New York City for placement in a hospice. The doctors had to be paid off to admit him, since hospices were generally used for the terminally ill. Kip had muttered under his breath he hoped R.D. died, because then he'd get royalties for the sky-high sales of his memorial CDs. One doctor gave him a rather dirty look and, unfortunately for him, that doctor now presided over his young star. He hadn't told him a damn thing since he'd been admitted.

Strolling up to the intensive care unit, he listened to the dying wails of patients. He ignored them and pounded on the door irately. They would admit him and then, once inside, he might be sorely tempted to wrap the oxygen cord around Bloo's neck. Never before was it necessary to fend off so much bad publicity. The imaginary friend was going to get it.

"Your creator is here to see you," the doctor muttered sarcastically, filing up to the door to shake his head sharply. Thank goodness for safety locks, preventing the most insane family members from barging in unwanted. Otherwise, he might have a situation on his hands.

Wearing a tidy white lab coat, the brown haired doctor smiled genuinely at R.D., who said nothing and hung his head. It'd been this way since he'd been admitted. Nurses pried scarce details about his personal history and he spent his time glaring sullenly at the ceiling. Though he'd never treated rock stars, he had a certain idea of their behavior. R.D. behaved more like someone told he had only six minutes left to live.

"He's not my creator," Bloo snapped, folding his arms across his chest and coughing. Five minutes passed before the water Doctor Cal administered settled his lungs and aching throat. He gave him a weak, grateful smile and settled reluctantly back into his pillows. This was the most comfortable he'd been, but also the longest amount of time he had to himself in months. Thoughts of suicide darted through his mind, but, cemented within, were burning desires to see Mac. One last time, if only to say goodbye…

"I'm sure you have parents, right?" he smiled coaxingly, but Bloo turned his head. I have my Mac…Mac…

Bloo shook his head, eyes narrowed at Kip's angry roars. Among them was the threat to kill R.D. if they kept him away any longer. Bloo scoffed- he'd be dead by Kip's hands sooner if they relaxed their rules. For once, rules worked in his favor. They kept the raving lunatic out and the depressed, suicidal imaginary friend in.

Dropping his voice, he knelt close and murmured, "Are you an imaginary friend in disguise?"

Unsure how to answer, spying a cell in the doctor's pocket, he tried to grab it inconspicuously. When that fell through, he offered him a weak smile and sighed. Kip would never let him contact Mac, especially not when Bloo was this vulnerable and no one else had the right to see him. He had to call him now, before the opportunity passed. Yet the fact remained- how on earth was he going to explain all this to the doctor?

"Don't you have your own?" he replied, frowning slightly. Desperation shone in Bloo's eyes and he contemplated stealing it, regardless of how the doctor might react. He had to have it. He had to contact Mac.

"No," he answered honestly. "Kip won't let me have one." Because he knows who I'll call.

"That's unusual," the doctor murmured, thoughtful, handing the device over. "I wonder why."

Eager, misdialing the first time, Bloo punched the numbers in of Foster's and waited for the telltale ring. He crossed his fingers in his other hand and prayed Mac would answer. It was too early for him to be home and if he wasn't there, where else could he be? Bloo's mind traveled in circles, fixated on the ringing phone in his right hand.

"Hello?" a voice answered and Bloo nearly hit "end" in excitement. He jumped (Doctor Cal stared) and grinned from ear to ear. He was there! He really was! Happiness bubbled within him.

"Mac!" Bloo screamed, no doubt deafening the poor doctor, speeding out of the room, and his creator, wincing. A few seconds passed, followed by an 'ow'. Bloo's hand glistened with sweat and his heart fluttered wildly. Outside the room, prowling menacingly, Kip stopped pacing to bang on the doors. No one, thankfully, paid him any mind.

Silence, then, "Bloo? Bloo, where are you?"

Panting, Bloo was painfully aware how limited his minutes were. Kip was bound to bully someone into letting him in and the instant he did, he'd snap the phone in half. Bye-bye Mac, forget talking to him again before he committed suicide. The slim comfort of knowing he'd die within moments of Kip discovering his call consoled him little.

"Bloo?" Mac pressed, jolting Bloo out of his reverie. Glimmers of an idea struck and he bit his lip, considering summoning Kip. He might have a proposition, although it would take cunning to maneuver. He wanted Mac at his side until the end- and when he wanted something this badly, he'd get it no matter what.

Breathing deeply, he told him exactly where he was and everything transpiring in his absence. Mac listened intently, worried by the weariness in his voice. When Bloo brushed him off, he became more concerned. Swallowing hard, Bloo lied miserably, not at all placating him. Mac's anxiety deepened; he saw right through him.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it. If I'd killed myself, I wouldn't be calling, now would I?" he joked weakly.

"THAT ISN'T FUNNY!" Mac roared, scaring the living daylights out of his imaginary friend. He fumbled the phone before rightfully placing it beside his ear. Trembling, he listened to his creator chew him out. He didn't enjoy it in the past and nor now.

"I don't want you thinking of that and don't even joke. If anything happened to you-"

"If anything happened to me, you'd move on. I've been gone for four years, remember? You only cared for the last few months, when you finally figured out I was trying to reach you."

Silence ensued and Mac exhaled sharply. "I'm sorry…but you have to listen. I care about you. I'm the one who caught you, I'm-"

"You caught me? Kip was going on about some stupid guard he had to fire because he didn't let my head hit the floor. You…why would you…?" Flabbergasted, he stared at the phone like it was foreign to him. Why would you save me?

"As much as you don't want to hear this, I really do care about you, Bloo. That's why Frankie and I are devising a plan to free you. But you have to-"

Enraged, practically spitting flames, Kip tore into the room and ripped the cell from Bloo's ear.

"You're talking to him, aren't you?" he screamed, brandishing the phone and shaking it in his upraised fist. Mac's voice continued, tinny and incoherent. He should have realized it was too good to be true. He'd never dared before…and now he knew why.

Forcing calm, struck by an idea, he replied coolly, "I was thinking of killing myself on stage after I tell the world what you've done. I'll be on live television and when my world ends, you'll be arrested. You won't see a single drop of the millions you stole and when you die, you'll rue my name."

Kip halted in his tracks and, on the other side of the phone, Mac listened intently. Bloo was on the verge of outsmarting Kip and he crossed his fingers in his lap. Please let him trick him…just once…bring us closer so I can take Bloo away…

"You want to stop those pesky fans from learning any more, don't you? Why not hire someone to keep me busy so you don't have to worry about anything leaking? Sure, you could kill me, but then you'd have a job hiding my death again. And there'll be people who don't believe you…"

Through gritted teeth, aware this concession might cost him dearly, he snapped, "What do you want?"

"Make Mac my personal assistant."

"Absolutely not!" Kip snarled, fingers itching to cut off his air supply. Bloo noticed, but, smirking, shook his head. His eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Of course…what I could tell them might rival anything I'd say to the millions. Tabloids would offer me real money for any lies I dish out, including a fake fetish for fish. Don't believe me? Go on, try me. I've been sneaking messages to Mac for nearly two years now and you haven't been able to say 'boo'. Would you like to see just how much moolah my words bring at your downfall?"

"You wouldn't dare," Kip snapped, but he paled. Bloo sounded entirely serious.

"Try me." Bloo grinned viciously, enjoying his power. He'd never thought of this before. The adrenaline rush brought him out of his depression long enough to realize Mac hadn't hung up yet. He continued to grin. This was good, very good indeed.

"And how do I know your little friend won't blurt out anything?" he snarled and Bloo's grin wavered. Mac was determined to free Bloo from Kip's clutches and the only way to do that was to expose him to the world. But he needed him at his side…until the final encore…

"He won't," Bloo replied, less confident than he let on. "He won't because he's too worried I'll commit suicide."

Kip snickered hatefully, clearly relishing the thought of him dead. It filled the room and reverberated painfully back, slapping Bloo in the face. His heart panged when he remembered Mac's reaction. It's not funny that I'm considering it…because I'm completely serious…

"If you can ensure he'll let you kill yourself and give me the rest of the money you'll ever earn, you have a deal."

"I'm sure he will." Over my dead body…

"I'll give him three months. If he doesn't let you go through with it, I will."

Replies to reviews!

Rakal- Yes, dark rules. I'd be typing this right now in the dark, but my father always turns on the light and then berates me for ruining my eyes. Darkness soothes.

You've made it abundantly clear you disliked that cliffhanger. Although I wish to make my chapters cliffhangers so people will want the next chapter, I don't intentionally make them excruciating. I just stop where I feel the chapter should end.

Kip said, if I'm not mistaken (and I'm not checking my own words, either), "You care about creatures too much to go through with it. You can't do it." Mac wouldn't deliberately harm another being, regardless of how much they've hurt Bloo. It's just not in his nature.

Since that's about all I have to say, thanks for reviewing.

MisterBlue- I'm not going to bring up the argument I had with you over this review, although it was fueled by an external force. Stupid bloody horny faery/human.

Mac's opportunity will rise again. He's got three months to weasel Bloo out…before Kip kills him. Kip's getting tired of his little star and he wants him gone. Apparently, his rebellion means he's too much of a bother.

Trixie21- Mac's emotions aren't quite as charged as they are in Sunrise, Sunset. Though I doubt he'd hurt anyone willingly in that either, regardless of how they deserve it. Like I said, Mac is not a violent person. That's part of why Terrance picks on him so much.

The reason I skipped over your large paragraph is not because I didn't wish to reveal more of the plot than I had to, but because I felt it pertained too closely to a certain situation. I don't wish to discuss that here, on a public forum. (In other words, I'm trying to be diplomatic). I figured you were indeed in one of your moods.

Moving on…

kcbs- Um, thanks for reading and reviewing. Perhaps this chapter, you can think of something to say for me to reply to.

A. Nonymous- I figured the action happened abruptly and it might have been confusing. Mac himself was confused, which was something I wanted to convey. How could he have Bloo in his arms one second then have him gone the next? It was a whirlwind.

As of this moment, I must confess I'm lazy. I have heard of Deus Ex Machina, but have not researched it. I'm aware it's a plot device, but I cannot tell you anymore, because I simply do not know. I know it was on my ninth grade Honors English final (the first question), but I also know I got that question wrong. (Oddly, that's the only question I remember from that final).

I shan't say anything about Kip revealing himself. That's too much information.

Once again, I confess my ignorance. We never read that story in school, ergo, I've never heard of it. Perhaps when I teach in four years, it'll be a part of the curriculum.

This site loves to remove words and tweak them. For the record, this chapter was perfect until it touched QuickEdit. If there are any errors, it's not my fault.

As long as the songs aren't as bad as the ones from Avenue Q, then I'll see. Heh, Q reminds me of Blooregard Q. Kazoo. I'm utterly obsessed with Foster's.

Er, thanks.

That's it for now. Please continue to read and review, folks. I appreciate your input!

Until we meet again…