Author's Note: Well, it's been a long ride...and now it's over. I promise you I will work on "Even in Death", my other Foster's story, and of course there will always be little one-shots for 30 Kisses.
Foster's Home is not mine.
Chapter Twenty Three: Final Battle
Twilight, sunset on what might be the last day they lived. The significance was not lost on "Foster's Fighters", the brave crusaders vowing to cross through the city and arrive at Berry's doorstep. Among them stood Mac, fidgeting in his bulletproof vest; Madame Foster, sharp and determined in this decisive hour; Goo, speaking little and glaring suspiciously, doubtlessly expecting them to 'wimp out'; and, last but not least, Frankie and Mr. Herriman, throwing away the shackles of disguise, concealment, and any other taboo to embrace openly and share a passionate, heartfelt kiss. The only imaginary of the pack, he would have stood out like a sore thumb were it not for the transformer turning him into a human. Bad enough that Madame Foster led the troops, but worse if she was seen with him in his normal guise. Frankie, too, insisted, though the scars carried over.
Mac nervously ran his fingers through his hair and turned to the smallest member of their party and oldest, Madame Foster. She nodded curtly and, wordlessly, they proceeded out. Silence descended like a blanket; each dwelled in thoughts as they passed through the rioting city. Not even the occasional scream broke it.
Before them loomed DIE HQ, the place where dreams smashed to pieces and many a friend and human met their execution. Mac pushed the gilded doors and, to his astonishment, they gave way into the lobby. What was once a magnificent display of ornate gold, marble, and bright lights was now thrown into darkness. Scuffles amongst members, for whatever reason, ensured they somewhat safely crossed to the elevator. Mr. Herriman kept looking behind him nervously, like his perpetrators would break forth from the foray to finish him off. Frankie, kissing his cheek, guided him inside with the others.
Once there, Mac pressed the button Bloo informed him led to the proper floor. He leaned against the railing and stared unseeingly, grateful that at least this lift had power. Goo, expression unreadable, filed inside and shut her eyes. Next came Madame Foster, minus her cane but moving swiftly and adroitly nonetheless; perhaps the upcoming confrontation lent her strength. Lastly were Frankie and Herriman, the latter wrapped an arm around her waist. Madame Foster turned her head to peer at them, but if their closeness disturbed her, she said nothing. Like the rest of the excursion, the slow rise to the top passed in complete silence. The loudest sounds were their breaths and, in each one's ears, the pounding of their hearts.
Mac knew if Bloo was here, he'd crack a weak sexual joke about 'going up together'. He stared at the floor rather than behold Frankie and Herriman. They were no longer in an embrace, but, somehow, that upset him more. He glanced up once to throw a sharp look their way and then, again, dropped his gaze. The elevator chimed every floor they never entered. To everyone whose nerves were close to the breaking point thanks to anxiety, that particular bell made them want to rip it out of the mechanism and smash it to smithereens. What was the point of announcing the fourteenth floor when they wanted another? Stupid elevator. Stupid mechanism. Stupid DIE and stupid Berry.
After an eternity, the bell finally pronounced their destination and Mac, Goo, Madame Foster, Frankie, and Mr. Herriman marched out. Bloo, hands trembling so badly he barely upheld the automatic rifle he'd been given, ordered them into Berry's office. His azure eyes swept the group and rested longest on Mac. Whatever silent communication passed between them remained secret, but a blush tinted Bloo's rather pale cheeks. Berry opened her doors at Bloo's unwilling behest and they steeled themselves accordingly.
Once there, she dictated Bloo bind them to the conveniently equipped front wall (to the right of the now hidden screens) and, mute, he performed her orders while keeping them at gunpoint. Now that they were completely inside, they saw the pistol in Berry's hands aimed at his spinal cord. One shot and he'd either be paralyzed…or dead. Mac opened his mouth, either to snap at her or whisper to him, but he tenderly shut it for him and, his back to her, stroked his face. The interplay of emotions contorted his face, but, the struggle showed itself most in his eyes, clouded in pain and regret. He, however, whispered "I'm sorry" to Mr. Herriman, but whether it was for past actions or current, he never elaborated. Grimly, he stepped back and moved away from Mac, where he'd naturally lingered. She directed him towards the windows and her side; Mac had never seen him more miserable in his life.
The curtains in her room rustled, but the window wasn't open. No breezes entered the room, but, were anyone to inspect the very bottom of the curtains, they might have seen yellow sneakers.
"So…" she drawled. "What do we have here?"
Fingering the trigger lovingly, she pressed it against each of their temples in turn. Smiling maliciously, she clapped her hands once, gun between them, and, out of the floor by the windows sprang a set of restraints for Bloo. He protested, but a gag reduced his cries to nonsense. Furiously, he glared at her from his position, bound and gagged on the floor. The metal arms disappeared back into their slots.
"A girl I don't know," she said, frowning lightly. "But I believe I've heard of you. Charisse, is it? Your parents used to call you 'Goo'. Stupid nickname, really. Maybe that was why I killed them. I don't remember."
Every inch of Goo trembled irately and, despite the cold metal binding her, spat in Berry's face. Ochre eyes flashed dangerously and regardless of her captivity, she looked fully capable of ripping her throat out. She kicked against the chains fastening her feet, but a delicate knife along her thigh halted this. Eyes widened, she glared hatefully, but stopped fighting. Berry snickered, drifting onto the next person.
"Don't forget, child, that I hold your life in my hands," she chortled, pausing at Madame Foster. Wizened green eyes calmly met hers and, unlike the others, she made no declamations at her loss of freedom. The unimaginable power in her eyes defied her, even when Berry held her weapon of destruction. She alone feared nothing Berry brought.
"And you forget that death is the only absolute, Berry. Nothing, not supremacy, affluence, or love, lasts forever. Cup it between your hands like water and droplets slip between your fingers, forever lost. You might murder us, but we will be remembered for our generosity, courage, and grit. You will be remembered for the tyrant you are, the lives you've robbed, and the crimes you've committed- if you're remembered at all."
Her words struck Berry like a slap in the face and, unable to counter, she moved on to Mac. She placed the gun to his temple and squeezed the trigger, but not enough to create sufficient pressure to release a bullet. Behind her, Bloo screamed soundlessly, madly wriggling about. Tears streamed down his face and ran unchecked onto his collar. She pivoted to watch like he was an especially entertaining television program. Mac longed to spit at her like Goo, but he lacked the confidence.
Kneeling, she removed the gag and his words became clear. Lovingly, she stroked his temples and ran her fingers through his hair. Bloo stopped sobbing to growl. If anything, his hatred for her ran as deeply as Goo's.
"Leave him alone," he growled. "Don't you dare touch him. Do whatever you want to me…just don't kill him."
She chuckled, cramming the gag back and nearly choking him. Bloo coughed, but, because the gag prevented normal air passage, the phlegm stuck. She strode towards Mac again, but, stopped again thanks to Bloo's unhealthy blue coloration, deep for even him. She sighed, reluctantly removing the gag and letting him cough out his fit. Once he finished, she inspected the rag, grimaced, and shoved it back. She tied to the back of his head lest he try to force it with his tongue.
"You have the right to order me around, Bloo? Since when? I have suffered your stupidity long enough. When you see Mac die by my hands, you will be mine forever. You will have no choice but to pay allegiance and all the dissenters will finally appreciate me. This city shall belong to me, no one else, and no one will stop me. Not you," she said, pointing to Madame Foster.
"Or you," she said, pointing to Goo.
"Or you," she pointed to Frankie. "Which reminds me- I was in the middle of something."
Fingering the gun affectionately, she strode over to Frankie and pressed it into her chest. Beside her, Mr. Herriman blanched and Madame Foster's teeth ground fiercely. Mac paled, decidedly queasy. Goo merely glanced away, finding the threat distasteful but not emotionally affecting like the others. She, after all, cared not beyond a menial bond, for her.
"And you, the one who so staunchly defended this rat," she indicated Mr. Herriman and kicked him in the shin. Frankie's eyes narrowed to slits and her hands balled into fists. Berry squeezed the trigger mockingly like she had with Mac, but let it travel further. A millimeter further and a bullet would have lodged itself in her heart. Mr. Herriman, too petrified to even whimper loudly, shuddered.
"I saw you two on the monitors before. You're in love with this beast, aren't you? You're disgusting. He's an imaginary rabbit, for god's sake. But I shouldn't be surprised. You're a Foster. And part of the qualifications or lack thereof of being one is doing cowardly and or bizarre and socially unacceptable acts like fucking rabbits."
Frankie looked like she'd like nothing more than to snap Berry's neck. Like Goo, she spat in her face, but this didn't seem to be enough. Straining against her confines, she snarled menacingly, her face a deep puce. Madame Foster too, looked quite upset, but nowhere near as violently outraged as her descendent. If looks could kill, both Fosters would have assassinated Berry where she stood.
Unable to stop herself, she snapped, "Says the sociopath. Whatever I do with him never harms anyone…everything you touch hurts someone."
Berry's eyes narrowed, blood rushed to her face, but, when it seemed she might attack her for shooting off her mouth, she shook her head and sniggered. Wiping herself off, she focused on the last member of their group and, fingering his transformer belt, slid the dial, rendering him into a rabbit. Scrutinizing his various injuries, she snickered and poised the gun at his head. Frankie whimpered piteously, anger dissipating in place of very real fear. Madame Foster froze, wishing that she could see what was going on beyond her granddaughter.
"Well, well, Frankie Foster, what do you have to say to this?" she crooned, sliding the gun around his fur. The redhead's knuckles whitened and she appeared to be on the verge of tears. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Berry's part, but no matter.
"D-don't," she stammered, whispering it to the floor. "Don't hurt him. Please."
"What would you give me if I oblige you? Will you beg for his life like the dog you are? Will you plead? Will you get on your hands and knees and lick my boots?" she cackled and the curtains rustled again. No one noticed.
Resting the gun in a non-vital place, she squeezed the trigger once the pistol prodded him in the stomach. A single tear slid down Frankie's cheek, but she turned away, ashamed to show how much deeply this disturbed her. The curtains rustled louder and, swearing profusely, Berry yanked the gun away in the nick of time. The bullet's trajectory created a hole in the wall and singed his gloves, but otherwise, barely touched him. Frankie exhaled shakily and Madame Foster shivered, aware thanks to her imaginary friend's input, how close that'd been.
"What the hell is that?" she snapped, but none answered. Scowling, she returned her attention to her prisoners. Mac's eyes linked to Bloo's and vice versa.
Examining the corner suspiciously, she pointed her weapon at each one. Every pair of eyes, except Mac's, glared daggers back. Relishing the hatred, she punched Herriman in the stomach to torture the Fosters and, since she knew Mac wouldn't look at her unless she forced him, pulled out the knife again to run it along the sides of his face and under his chin. The cuts were shallow, but Bloo inaudibly hissed at his creator's attack.
"Now that I have all your undivided attention, I might as well tell each and every one of you how I got here in the first place. Oh, it wasn't easy. After I rejected old lady Foster's 'invitation', I searched for contacts underground, people who had an axe to grind against imaginaries and or humans. At that point, it didn't matter who. Allies were allies.
"I heard from a reputable source someone was starting a group called "Destroy Imagination Everywhere" and claimed an imaginary had been responsible for his child's death. This, as it turns out, was Virginia's father. Anger consumed me- how dare he blame my Ginny's death on me. What a pathetic, stupid human to assume I'd hurt her.
"So I, still maneuvering in that secret human guise my creator gave me, worked my way onto his good side. I did him a few 'favors' and then, slit his throat in his sleep. I gained control of his minions and, through them, certain other accomplishments, like bribing the law enforcement to stay away from this town and surrounding cities. It wasn't easy, but thanks to a steady flow of 'blood money', I keep inquiries and tourism out.
"I required my new members to build me a high rise and then, there you come in again, old lady Foster. The instant I settle down in my new office and call out to my members to bring me new recruits, I ascertain a vast majority are nowhere to be found. After months, I discover you and your compatriots have stolen my transformer's prototype and planted yourselves beyond my grasp, underground.
"But never mind all that now. I can kill you now and I will. It's been far too long," she hissed, licking her lips. The curtains shifted once more and a figure approached, gun in hand and standing behind her. Berry placed the knife into its holster on her transformer belt, held her gun to Madame Foster's temple, and squeezed. A loud gunshot deafened and one female slumped over, dead. But it wasn't Madame Foster- it was Berry. Grinning cruelly, Bendy lorded over his new achievement and turned towards Bloo. It was party time.
Striding forward, he undid the ties, ripped the gag out of his mouth, and forced him to his feet at gunpoint. Bewildered, the others exchanged glances, though they couldn't help the shudder. Berry, at least, they knew slightly. This new introduction was completely foreign indefinable. He held the gun to Bloo's chest, shoved him forward, and told him to start running.
"Berry gave you all the chances in the world. Well, Berry's not here now. Come on, whiz imaginary, escape death," he said, smirking. "I'll give you a one minute head start before I blow your brains out."
Bloo needed no further goading. Staggering slightly, he bounded out of the office doors and down the stairs, his footsteps echoing on the metal. Mac, sweat pouring down his face, screamed his imaginary friend's name as Bendy tore after him. He pounded his fists, kicked stubbornly, but only dug the iron into his wrists and ankles.
In the stairwell, anyone loitering around scampered. They had no idea what transpired, yet the ominous sight of an obvious infidel holding a gun and facing Berry's pet told them in no uncertain terms to avoid them. Bloo knew the odds were against him, but they had always been against him. True, Bendy was an unknown element, and he was armed, whereas Bloo was not. But Bloo laughed in the face of danger...perhaps a little too much.
Seemingly thinking the same thing, Bendy said, "Your luck is about to run out."
He squeezed the trigger and Bloo jumped, missing the bullet by a hair. His manacles clanged and crashed, grabbing the banister to prevent falling to his death. Bendy grinned, stepped forward, and began prying Bloo's fingers off the banister, one by one. Bloo checked to see if his feet were firmly on a step and head butted Bendy in the stomach. The move faltered Bendy just enough for Bloo to ascend to the next stair...and then Bendy pointed the gun in Bloo's face again.
Distantly, like a hammer striking the edge of a thick building, Mac pressed against their link. Bloo ignored him.
"One shot and DIE's pet dies with its head. Hah, hah. Dies," Bendy said, cackling. Bloo stared at him. This guy was a little whacko.
Bloo assessed his options and did something very stupid and unpredictable. He flipped over, knocking his legs into Bendy's legs, and slammed his head into the stairs. Groaning, he looked up to see Bendy still had the gun, but he wasn't on his feet anymore. Was this good or bad? Bloo didn't know.
Bendy shot again and, again, Bloo ducked his head. This one had hit his ear and it bled profusely.
"Damn it, why are you so hard to kill?" Bendy hissed.
Hmm. He had escaped a straitjacket and a locked cell with Mac's assistance. Maybe if he grabbed it again now, he'd be able to fight his way out of this one. Concentrating, he tugged Mac's strength along inside of him, but his creator didn't understand what was happening. This left them with an open link between the two, but no further increase in power. Damn it.
"I don't know," Bloo countered. "Why are you such a jackass?"
Bendy squeezed the trigger...and nothing happened. Bloo released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and forced himself to sit up. The blood rushed to his head and he groaned, feeling woozy. Meanwhile, Bendy patted the gun, opened the chamber, and swore. There had only been two bullets inside and both had missed.
Frustrated, Bendy threw the gun at Bloo and it smacked him in the face. Bloo groaned, reached out for Mac blindly, and fainted.
Mac fought against his restraints and the whole group blinked when Bendy re-entered the room. He stepped over Berry's body and looted through her desk drawers.
"What are you doing?" Frankie said, nonplussed.
"I can't believe there's no more goddamn ammo in this thing," Bendy snapped. Mac extended his consciousness for Bloo, felt nothing, and quickly thought ahead.
"You know, we might know where there's more ammo," Mac said cunningly. "All you'd have to do is release us and we could lead you to it."
"How would you know where it is if you don't work here?" Bendy countered, hands on his hips. He tapped his foot impatiently.
"I'm Bloo's creator," Mac said. "I know everything he does." This was a bit of a stretch, but he doubted Bendy was entirely sane to begin with. Besides, it had to be better than waiting here for the mad man to dispose of Bloo, or whatever he had planned for them.
Bendy turned his back on them to consider this and Frankie mouthed at Mac 'since when do you know anything Bloo knows?' He shrugged, mouthing back 'it was all I could think of'. She scoffed, glancing at Mr. Herriman. Her green eyes welled with sympathy and she accepted their fate. She would do whatever it took to be released and hopefully, be rid of them.
"I'll let one of you go," Bendy decided. "Only one."
He switched the dial on his belt and transformed into an imaginary friend again. His quick, nimble claws unlocked Mac's restraints and Mac massaged his wrists. He appraised the situation, like Bloo had, and grabbed the gun out of Bendy's hands. He smashed it against his head, watched the imaginary friend fall to the ground, and crossed over him and Berry to the loudspeaker on Berry's desk. His hands slickened with sweat and shook while he activated it.
"Your leader is dead. Her favorite imaginary friend is no longer an issue," Mac said and licked his dry lips. "You are all relieved of duty...and are advised to clear out before the government gets wind of what has happened here."
He picked up a notice indicating blackmail and bribing. "The records here can incriminate each and every one of you. So I'm giving you all an hour to vacate before we call the authorities."
He smiled weakly. "That is all."
He shut off the loudspeaker and hurried outside, then doubled back. Grabbing Bendy by the scuff of his neck, he bound him up where he had been and gagged him. Frankie smiled.
"I'm impressed," she said.
"I'm not," Goo said flatly. "Anyone could have done that. It didn't even take that much upper body strength."
"Well, Master Mac, what do you intend to do now?" Mr. Herriman said.
"See if Bloo's okay, release all of you, and wait for the government officers to show up," Mac said. He crosssed back out, lifted Bloo tenderly, and cradled him on the stairs. Bloo groaned, the back of his head wet with blood.
"Mac, I don't feel so good..." he complained and collapsed again.
"It'll be okay, Bloo," Mac said, stroking his imaginary friend's face. "It'll all be okay soon."
Mac swallowed hard. "I hope."
A year later, the group stood on the grounds of what had lain dormant for decades, Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. Thanks to Goo's quick work, the state police officials had finally be notified and all DIE members captured, with the exception of a few. Though prejudice ran still, most creators and creations came out of hiding and people gradually, hesitantly began imagining new friends. Though there could hardly be called a surplus, Madame Foster believed in time people would have need of this place. That and living underground was no longer needed for survival. Many of the friends had jumped at the chance to live above ground, though Bloo was strangely reserved. Then again, thanks to the whole Berry mess, he'd changed subtly, more cautious and rather protective over his creator.
"Well, imaginary friends, family, and humans alike, welcome home."