Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter Twelve: Waking

He slept, a dream like state induced by a sleeping pill Frankie slipped into his drink at lunch. Truthfully, she felt guilty, but Madame Foster promised her that things would work out. And so, hands clasped together, she kept vigil. The instant Bloo awoke, she was to notify Madame Foster and Mr. Herriman. A stray strand of red hair fell in her eyes and she idly tucked it behind her ear. Tonight was going to be a long night.

Swift hopping by the door turned her head and she stared at the soft smile on the imaginary rabbit's face. Glancing around to ensure no one else was around, she smiled back and then glanced back down at Bloo. Matronly, she tucked the sheets around his little body and listened to his breathing. Slow and regular…she hoped she wasn't going to fall asleep too…

Bloo perched on his shoulders as the two humans sat on his father's stoop and scrutinized each car. Red, blue, and green passed by, each as inconsequential as the last. Pink, blue, and green streaked across the sky, as inconsequential as the cars. Somewhere within Townsville's depths, a monster ravage the city and Mac personally found it as inconsequential as the cars' colors that weren't his mothers and the girls' streaks. What impact did they have on his life? None. Then again, what impact did his words have on his father? Probably none as well.

He wanted to hate him, truly he did, but he lacked both the energy and the ruthlessness. Instead, he pitied him and the shell of a man he'd become. His father had done the same thing to him and he hadn't learned from his mistakes. He abandoned his children and what really hurt was that after he left him, he'd probably never see him again. Yes, he wasn't exactly a prime, shining example of humanity's perfection, but he was his father. And, in that selfish little boy way, he longed for his return.

Bloo hadn't said a word since his eruption and for this, Mac was eternally grateful. His presence alone soothed, but he wasn't in the mood for a reprimand from his 'better' half. He had the feeling his words would be callous and enough to fling salt into searing wounds. He wished he hadn't come along and heard everything for it would be so much easier to bury the issue when Bloo was oblivious. He wished he hadn't been stupid enough to rise to Terrence's bait in the first place and run away. He wished he weren't a powerless child and his father a deadbeat who had moved to avoid his sons.

"You're not coming back with me, are you?" he half accused, half snapped. Beneath his billowing bangs, chestnut eyes burned intensely and, were he a Powerpuff Girl, would have scoured the sidewalk. Bloo shivered, immensely disconcerted by the pain in his voice and his tone. He patted his shoulder and nearly toppled off.

"You're just going to vanish for five more years and hope no one goes looking for you, aren't you?" he snapped acidly. "Like you did before. You don't care."

His father rose and stretched, pacing to avoid his son's heated gaze. He glanced once more at the road and then, contemplated. Stormy grey eyes shut; he placed a hand on his chin. Bloo blew him a raspberry he never heard. It seemed he indeed was taking him seriously. At least, Mac hoped so.

"This isn't as easy as you think it is, Mac…" he whispered, watching an old, tattered orange leaf sail past, over their heads and into a garbage can. It was like their relationship- torn and weathered nearly beyond recognition. Its color had faded from a verdant green into the color of leaf death. There was no future for it…and perhaps none for them as well.

"But leaving us was?" he shot back, unable to stop himself. He jumped to his feet; fists balled, and glared daggers. Bloo added a "yeah!" and then pitched headfirst into Mac's arms when he fell off. Only pure reflex caught him, otherwise, he'd have had a nasty collision with the pavement. Mac wasn't focusing on Bloo at all- all his energy and spirit was directed at his father. The anger emanated strongly enough to nearly knock Bloo out of commission.

Defeated, he threw up his hands. "What do you want me to tell you? What do you want me to say? Coming back isn't that easy! I can't just go back to your mother and ask her to let me stay there. I can't simply move away and find a new job like that. The real world doesn't work like that."

"And the real world doesn't have any room for me to have a father, does it?" he whispered, tears brimming. Bloo flung himself out of his arms and shoved his father hard. Whether it was righteous anger for his creator or simply frustration from the situation, it was hard to tell. Balled fists pounded on his lower leg and Bloo shoved as hard as possible. Unfortunately, though the power of imagination was greatly amplified in Mac's world, he was unable to budge him. Things could only progress so far before hitting a wall.

A red VW bug pulled up to the house and its occupants talked before a gangly teenager reluctantly exited. He saw Mac, tried to re-enter, and a steel grip on his arm accompanied by what sounded like a screech of pain, convinced him otherwise. Nonetheless, he refused to glance anywhere but the asphalt as his mother steered him towards them. He whistled innocently and she dug her nails into his arm once more, eliciting another shriek.

Mac's mother dragged Terrence towards the curb and then gestured at Mac. He surveyed Bloo, his mother, father, and brother and then dug in his heels. Anyone who watched him carefully would have drawn back in surprise. A blue glint shone in his eyes not unlike Bloo's. Not the mischievous one, mind you, but the one that said "I've had enough. I'm getting my way now."

"I'm not leaving until Dad agrees we're going to see him again," he snapped, the word "Dad" still unfamiliar on his tongue. Everyone's eyes widened and his mother, releasing Terrence, strode forward to seize him by the arms and hoist him into the car. Suddenly, an odd, invisible weight followed by a pair of arms slapped her away. Heard only by Mac, the weight growled. It bore its teeth as well and continued to push her away until she halted, bewildered. At first, she believed it to be Mac's doing, but when he stood stock still and yet, it persisted…

Bloo, too, was bewildered. Then he glanced at Mac and the reason became clear. When Mac needed him present enough to hug, he was. When Mac really needed him to back him up, he was. He was still invisible, but strong enough to fend them off. Proud, he posed, momentarily losing track of the events around him.

"What on earth?" she murmured, staring blankly. Silence descended upon them- none were quite sure what to say or how, indeed, to say it. Bloo and Mac's expressions mirrored each other, both hardened and determined. Bloo hopped by his side and pointed his finger accusingly at Mac's parents for starting this in the first place. Mac, however, ignored him. His gaze was fixated on his mother and defiance curled his lip.

"You heard me, Mom. I'm not leaving unless Dad does."

The sentence hung in the air like a death warrant. The two adults exchanged an uneasy glance, unconsciously thinking the same thing- how do we tell him no? How can we explain why we can't be together ever again? Why must children entertain false hopes and what are we to them if we break them, smash them against the pavement like so many broken bottles? We strive to protect them and sometimes, we hurt them more than they ever dreamed possible.

"Who says we want him back?" Terrence snapped, striding in between the two. Grey eyes blazed and his fists, already balled, swung back and forth ominously. His whole frame shook with anger. Now was the time to vocalize his objections and boy, was he was going to get it. He'd waited all his life to tell him exactly what he thought of him and it was the perfect opportunity. Screw his kid brother who wasn't smart enough to figure out running away was a stupid idea. Screw his mother who ranted and raved at him. Screw it all…it was all his fault.

"So he can leave us again? So he can treat us like shit-" he began and overrode his mother's "Terrence!"at his curse. He glared at Mac and cracked his knuckles threateningly, but stepped another three paces towards his father. They stood close enough to brawl and in his fondest dreams, he'd do just that. Who was going to stop him? Mac? His mother? Ha. He'd like to see them try.

Pivoting on his heel, he glared at Mac and the invisible figment situated beside him. That brown hair, those eyes and the chin shape were exactly like his father's. He was constantly reminded of his father every time he looked at him. His blood boiled and he gritted his teeth. It was bad enough they had to take him home, much less the possibility of his loser father.

"And youreally think he should come back? Why? What, did your little plea for his attention suddenly remind him of us? You ran away and showed up at his door and suddenly, he gives a damn? I wanted him back for five years and you, you with your stupid optimism, make him change his mind?

"You don't deserve it. You never did. You don't remember having a father in the first place- I do. You don't know what you're missing. How can you miss what you never had?"

He broke off there, thoughts a jumbled mass of ambivalence. Like any child, he wanted his father back and his family to be complete. On the other, he resented his leaving and the possibility of any return being temporary at best. It wasn't fair that Mac could win him over when Terrence had wanted it so badly when he was younger. It wasn't fair that Mac got all the breaks. Then again, he was the hero and what was he but the bumbling villain?

Mac shuffled uneasily, glancing at Bloo and then at the sidewalk. For once in his life, Bloo was at a loss. He glanced at his creator, at Terrence, and then at the two adults, who separated from the group and conversed quietly. He placed an arm on his shoulder, but Mac shrugged it off again. He wasn't certain he wanted comfort.

The moments passed like hours and the loudest noise was their whispers, trailing on the wind like autumn leaves. Occasionally, one would look up, observe them, and then return to the conversation. Waiting was interminable and unbearable, but the situation was too awkward to break the silence and demand an answer. One thing was for certain- the car ride home would be most unpleasant.

Finally, when they thought they would scream in frustration, Mac's mother broke away and offered the two a smile they didn't return. Her grey eyes swept Terrence's, but she reserved judgment at the moment. Later, she would contend with what he'd said. Right now, it was time for the verdict.

"We've come to a decision. Your father's going to try to visit you on every other weekend and if he can manage that-" Her eyes narrowed disbelievingly and she dug her nails into her palm.

"-then we'll see about alternate living arrangements."

Though there was no gavel, it resounded in their heads and hearts. Not quite the victory either anticipated, but it would do for a start. Perhaps things would get better in time…

(dodges rotten tomatoes) I tried to write more, but I didn't like it. So the ending's really up to you, isn't it? Does Mac's father live up to his promise, knowing what we do about him and observing his interaction with Mac? (And of course, Bloo wakes up- that's a given). Will Terrence work out his issues? You figure it out, because this is where we part, faithful readers.

But, hey, if you like my writing so much…(points to Nightmare) Subtle advertising right there.

Oh, and I was going to shut up, but I have one more thing to say about the flame wars that are going (or, hopefully, have ended) between me, Liam288, and a few other authors here. I said something because it was Grand High Idol and Dude13 being flamed and they're friends of mine. Besides, it's not right to tear someone down to push yourself above them. Think what you will about me, I was showing loyalty. And though that loyalty meant I got blasted too, I don't really care. You blast my friends, you blast me too.

And on that note, I leave you. 'Til we meet again…