Nothing much, just managed to write this in two or three days. Just another one-shot in my ongoing series where Mac lives at Foster's and Frankie's his "big sister" / legal guardian (if you wanna know why, gotta read my first fic, "More Than My Friend")
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Foster's home for imaginary friends.
A fight? Me? In a fight? Me? ME?
The hideous thought raced through his mind repeatedly. Groaning loudly, Mac buried his face in his hands, the bitter truth becoming increasingly difficult for him to swallow with every second more that he struggled to comprehend it. Seated in a cold, rock-hard metal folding chair outside the principal's office, the eight-year-old furiously mused over the same jarring question over and over in his mind.
How could I have been so stupid?
The agonizing shame of his situation burned deep within his heart. Indeed, how could he have been so utterly foolish? Him, of all children, who most of the time wouldn't even dare trod on a caterpillar? How in the world did he even allow himself to get mixed up with the likes of some no-good punk who wouldn't-
Emitting another frustrated groan, Mac slumped dejectedly in his seat. Dwelling on the recent past didn't do him much good now, the damage had already been done. That much was already clear, a blaring fact Mac was reminded of again and again with every outraged roar that reverberated loudly from within the principal's office.
"…I still can't believe it! It took two school aids to pry them apart, and even when that was done, it still took us a half-hour to completely calm your boy down!" One austere voice boomed out, rumbling so loudly it was as if some vengeful god of ancient times was in there instead of a mere mortal school principal, bringing his almighty wrath down hard upon some poor miscreant. Every time the bellowing reached a higher pitch in the speaker's fury, Mac couldn't but help but shudder violently in fright.
"Honestly, this is an elementary school, not some God-forsaken prison colony where rowdy hooligans can simply brawl with one another as they please! I will not allow fighting of any sort in my school! Do you hear me? None! And your charge's stunt today is no exception to the rules! Is that clear?"
"Yeah but-" another voice, soft and feminine, tried to speak up in protest. However, it was immediately cut off in just a matter of moments as the harsh reprimand continued, once again forcing Mac to cower instinctively in his seat.
"However miss, fortunately, up until this point he has been quite the model student. So, since this is his first major transgression, we shall let him off with just an admonition. I've already given him a long talk about his infraction, plus a stern warning against any other such behavior. However, that will do for now. But remember, if we have any more of these incidents, then I will be forced to come down as hard as the rules permit me to! Do you understand me, ma'am?"
"…Yes." The other speaker murmured with a weary sigh. "Thank you for calling me down"
As soon as the office door opened, Mac instinctively cringed in his seat as an extremely haggard twenty-two-year-old redheaded woman plodded out, lurching along like a wounded soldier returning from the horrors of the battlefield.
"F-Frankie?" he inquired cautiously in a soft whisper, beads of sweat starting to drip down his forehead in his ever-increasing anxiety. "Frankie, I-"
Upon spotting him, Frances "Frankie" Foster's immediately went through a radical transformation, the agonized weariness vanishing within a moment to be replaced by a stern, stonefaced look. Whether it was expressing disappointment, rage, or austerity, it was difficult to tell, but at least one thing was blatantly clear. Frankie obviously was not pleased with what was going on.
"A fight?" she demanded flatly as she arms folded her arms across her chest, her voice thick with vehemence. Immediately Mac whimpered and cowered in his chair, wishing desperately that wasn't about to be on the receiving end of the redhead's infamous temper.
"A fight?" she repeated coldly, her mouth curling into an ugly scowl. "You got in trouble because you actually got into a fight today?"
At first, the acidity in her voice only further added to the fright of the young child, the look on her face causing his little heart to beat a mile a minute. However, as soon as he recalled to earlier that day, vividly remembering the cruel injustice he had witnessed, the bitter rage he had felt, and the unbridled furor he had unleashed, Mac suddenly found himself surging with a burst of anger-fueled self-confidence.
"It wasn't fair!" he protested angrily, leaping from his chair to attempt and take a stand for himself. "H-he…he just wouldn't leave Goo alone, Frankie! I swear! All recess, h-he just kept following us around the playground, a-and calling her nasty names! W-we really tried to ignore him, honest! I never meant to…well, b-but when he finally pushed her down, h-he…he wouldn't just l-let her g-g-get back up, a-a-and…a-and…."
Unfortunately, the bout of self-assuredness that had been flowing so freely through him just moments before proved to be only a short-lived phenomenon. Whatever conviction he felt to defend his innocence rapidly shriveled up into nothing as the child helplessly wilted under the caretaker's harsh, unblinking stare. Without even forcing her to say a word, the eight-year-old's retelling of his tale of woe dwindled off into nothing but a chaotic mess of unintelligible stammering, until finally Mac forced himself to clam up, assuming his feeble attempt was as useful as arguing with a stone wall.
"So that's when you actually tackled him to the ground, as your principal described it?" Frankie inquired stoically, her expression not revealing a hint of emotion.
"I-" Mac tried to speak up for himself, but all he managed to conjure up was a hoarse squeak.
"That's when you two actually began to fight? That's when a few teachers had to pull you apart? That's why I was called down so I could be yelled at for fifteen minutes straight?" The young woman bombarded him with a hail of questions, effectively demolishing what confidence Mac possessed.
"Huh?" she grunted in demand, a fierce twinkle glittering noticeably in her eyes.
This time, the child didn't even bother to respond, abashed beyond speech. Hanging his head in mortified shame, he chose instead to stare blankly at the floor rather than make eye contact with he assumed was an unimaginably infuriated guardian under the guise of a stonefaced twenty-two-year-old.
"I….I'm sorry, Frankie…" he choked out a barely-audible whisper, hurriedly wiping away a stray tear that tried to squeeze free from his eyeball. Frankie continued her glowering, never moving a muscle, and never peeling her eyes off the miscreant for a moment.
"What was his name? Who was this "he" that you kept talking about?" she demanded flatly, glaring at him so coldly Mac thought his blood was going to freeze in his veins. As he became momentarily paralyzed in dumb terror, the girl closed her eyes momentarily to emanate a low, aggravated groan.
"His name, Mac. The boy you got into the fight with, what was his name?" she inquired once more, this time revealing a hint of impatience in her voice.
"Uh…N-Nick S-S-Stevenson." The child managed to utter in a barely audible whisper, finally motivated to talk by his fear of unleashing the full brunt of the rage he knew all-too-well the girl was capable of.
For a few moments Frankie continued to glare at him unblinkingly, so bitterly stonefaced it was as if she was ready to transform into the austere Mr. Herriman any second. Looking up into her eyes, Mac immediately took a hard gulp and cringed pitifully as her frighteningly accusing stare pierced him straight to the heart. Never before in his life had he felt such shame, and the child fervently wished he could just vanish into thin air, not caring where he went as long as it was far away from this silent agony.
Finally, Frankie relented, the bitter accusation draining from her face to give way to an expression revealing nothing but tormented weariness. As she emitted a long, pained sigh, Mac quickly suppressed a low whine as fresh pangs of guilt jabbed viciously at him from within.
Without saying a word, Frankie turned around, took a deep breath, and began to plod down the winding school hallway, silently motioning for the eight-year-old to follow her. Mac quietly followed at her heels, hands tucked inside his pockets and head hanging in shame.
True, besides demanding the facts of the misdemeanor he had committed, she hadn't said anything else. There had been no scolding, no yelling, not even a single cluck of disapproval or any classic display of the famed Foster temper whatsoever. Considering what she was capable of, he should've considered himself extremely lucky.
The eight-year-old sniffled as he brushed back a few stray tears threatening to try and spill from his eyes, remorse for all that he had done burning away from within with the strength of an industrial furnace.
Nevertheless, her reaction had struck him as gently as a log to the stomach.
"…So she did what?" Goo inquired anxiously, arms wrapped about her knees as she rocked back and forth in unbridled anticipation. Mac glanced up into her expectant gaze briefly before letting a weary sigh escape his lips.
"Nothing." He murmured in somber reply.
"What? Frankie?" the pigtailed girl countered, going bug-eyed in her disbelief. "I don't believe it!"
"Well, better start believin', because that's what happened yesterday." Mac grumbled ruefully, lying back onto the grass with a weary groan.
"So that's it? No yellin'? No screamin'? No goin' to bed without supper?" Goo piped up, shaking her head in incredulity.
"I dunno, she might've done that last one." Mac muttered wearily. "I just went to my room right after we got home anyway."
"So…that's it?" Goo inquired gently.
"Well, I saw her getting breakfast ready in the kitchen for a few seconds, but…yeah, that's it." The eight-year-old replied softly. For a few moments, the pair just passed the time in awkward silence, seated comfortably away under an old oak tree near the edge of the playground while their classmates enjoyed recess.
After a considerably long awkward silence, Goo scooted a little closer to her forlorn friend.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better…" she mumbled with a slight blush, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks at least for sticking up for me yesterday."
Mac glanced up at her, stared blankly into her compassionate eyes for a moment, then managed a weak smile.
"Well, I just-"
"Awww, now isn't that sweet?" someone grunted, shattering the moment.
Upon hearing the low, raspy voice, the two gasped in horror as they glanced up to meet the gaze of the burly fourth grader standing not to far from them. With his slouching walk, sinewy arms, and wild, unkempt black locks, he resembled something close to a rogue gorilla then the nasty child he really was.
"Hey there, kiddies." He laughed malevolently. As Goo instinctively cringed a little in fright upon spotting the familiar terror of the school playground, Mac just glowered furiously at the unnaturally brawny boy.
"Go away, Nick." He spat, obviously in no mood for another brawl. "We're done"
"Aw, what's the matter? Afraid I might get too rough again with your girlfriend, squirt?" Nick tittered merrily, cracking his knuckles. "Although I will admit, I never knew you could throw a punch like that….like my grandma, that is." He said with a spiteful grin, grinning stupidly at his own dumb joke.
Mac gritted his teeth in barely suppressed fury, already doing a poor job of keeping his rage down. He hated dealing with these types – lumbering moronic jerks who enjoyed toying with others purely for the malicious kicks. And by the way the juvenile delinquent was grinning like a shark waiting to strike, it was clear there wasn't going to be any way out of this mess until "someone" managed to get some cruel fun out of his prey.
"Nick, no! Go away!" Goo cried fearfully, hurriedly scrambling away from the rowdy ten-year-old.
"Oh yeah? Make me, freak!" Nick spat. "Or do I hafta remind you again who's who around here?" he chuckled fiendishly, cracking his knuckles as the girl emitted a squeak of terror.
However, upon hearing him slander his friend, Mac could've help but instinctively jump to his feet and rush forward, the anger swiftly rising within him.
"Hey, you can't-OOF!" he grunted in pain as Nick roughly sent him sprawling to the ground with careless ease.
"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Mr. Tough Guy?" the burly kid grunted, flashing Mac a devious grin. "Gonna try and be a hero? I'd have more of a challenge wresting my baby sister than dealing with you again." He laughed maliciously.
The eight-year-old gritted his teeth in frustration, straining his willpower as he struggled to keep himself from smacking his foe square in his ugly mug. He couldn't get in trouble for fighting again, not so soon. But what other options did he have besides taking all the punishment the thug had in store?
As the child broke out into a panicked sweat, Nick emitted a low, throaty chuckle as he slowly advanced forward. Instantly, his prey's mind became a chaotic whirl of thoughts. It was either now or never, he had to think of something fast, or else-
Suddenly, as if sent by divine intervention, a loud cry suddenly shattered the tense moment. Although it was little more than a painfully off-key squeal, to an extraordinarily grateful Mac, it could've been a chorus of angels for all he cared.
"Oh my God! Nicholas Stevenson, is that really you?" the shrill cry echoed throughout the playground, forcing all children present to put a temporary pause and look towards the source of the commotion. Growling in annoyance, the burly child looked up with a grunt.
"What the-AUGH!" he roared, rapidly transforming from imposing bully to frightened little boy in less than a moment, eyes bulging so much they doubled in size and jaw dropping like a stone as "someone" in particular caught his eye.
Of course, when Mac looked up in the direction of his savior, he too shared an extremely similar reaction, gasping in shock as he finally laid his gaze upon a very, very familiar face.
Or, to be more specific, a very certain twenty-two-year-old imaginary friend caretaker.
"Oh, it is you!" Frankie squealed gleefully, doing a little dance of joy from where she stood on the sidewalk. Mac drew in another sharp intake of breath, hurriedly rubbing his eyes to make sure this wasn't some bizarre illusion. Alas, his vision was not deceiving him, for there stood the imaginary friend caretaker herself, clad in shorts, T-shirt, and sweatband, suggesting she had been in the middle of a jog.
But when on earth did Frankie pick up running?
But even more strangely, why had his tormentor suddenly gone so pale and silent he resembled a statue?
Even more oddly then that, why was Frankie staring directly into Nick's eyes?
"Oh honey, it's so good to see you again!" Frankie laughed, suddenly lunging forward at a steady jog. "Just look at how much you've grown! I almost didn't recognize you! C'mere!"
"AAA!" the boy grunted and hurriedly tried to back off from the charging young woman. "Wait, wait, Frankie, no! No!"
Mac went slack jawed upon hearing his guardian's name uttered from the boy's lips. How on earth did he know-
"Aw, what's the matter? Too old to give your old babysitter a hug?" Frankie chuckled, drawing ever nearer towards her quarry. Before Nick had a chance to protest, the air was squeezed from his lungs as Frankie expertly scooped him up into her arms and lifted him clear off the ground, encompassing him in a crushing bear hug.
"AUGH!" the child cried, struggling wildly against the girl's iron grip. "Frankie, no! Put me down! Put me down! Wait, wha-EWW! NO! ACKPTH! HEY! QUIT IT! GROSS! GROSS! GROOOOSSSSSSSSS!" he wailed as the twenty-two-year old showered him with a hail of mushy kisses, much to his displeasure and to the benefit of the small crowd that had gathered.
"Awww, now what's wrong, sweetie-pie?" Frankie cooed sweetly, reapplying her tenaciously loving embrace. "First too big for a hug, now too much of a man for a little kiss? Ha!" she laughed uproariously. "What happened to sweet little boy I just to watch at least once a week?"
The burly child only redoubled his efforts to free himself, struggling with every ounce of energy he possessed to break loose.
"Mmpf! Argh! Frankie, puh-LEEZE, just lemme go-"
"Why, it used to be that you wouldn't go to sleep until you got your good-night kiss!" Frankie laughed merrily, a queer look adorning her features as she happily reminisced.
At this Nick put an abrupt halt to his epic struggle, becoming as pale as a bed sheet as soon as the girl carelessly recollected the peculiar fact.
"Y-you d-did n-n-not just say…." The alpha male of the playground tried to protest in a demanding tone of voice, but all he could manage was a hoarse whisper, eyes bulging in horror. Frankie only plastered a goofy grin on her face as she continued.
"Oh c'mon, you remember!" she giggled. "Why, I couldn't get you to shut your eyes for a second unless we did that whole little bedtime spiel of yours! I had to make sure both your nightlights were working…"
"Both?" A third-grade spectator mused out loud, and immediately audible sniggers could be heard.
"…Had to make sure you were all tucked in with Bo-Bo…aw, you still have him don't you? You and that stuffed kitty would go everywhere together…" the redhead continued to recall rather loudly, happily taking a stroll down memory lane. Meanwhile, at the public revelation about his beloved plaything, the boy in her arms continued to grow paler with every passing moment, suddenly looking so white and sickly it was as if any more and he would go completely translucent.
"Bo-Bo?" he whimpered softly, while the audible snickers slowly began to escalate into barely suppressed giggled from the gathered children around them.
"…and time only knows how many times I strained my voice singing all your favorite "lullabies" before I got you on the train to dreamland!" Frankie cooed in a sickeningly cutesy manner, giving him a gentle nuzzle. "I mean, I would remind you every time, "no, we just heard all those songs," and "c'mon, you only finished watching "The Little Mermaid" half an hour ago." Ha, that same movie, every time! And you would be sooooo adorable, trying act all mad and saying that….what was it you said…I could've sworn I remembered, it was just so cute…oh, yeah!" the redhead cried triumphantly with a devious twinkle in her eyes.
"Y-you do?" Nick whispered with a nervous gulp.
"Oh, how could I ever forget? You'd say, "But c'mon Ariel's my favorite Disney princess! You just gotta Frankie, you sound just like her-" The girl acted out in a comically high squeak.
However, if there was more to her imitation, it was hard to tell, for almost instantaneously the entire playground erupted into laughter, unable to believe all that had just been revealed to them. Holding aching sides, practically screaming in mirth, children all around tumbled to the ground like little sacks of bricks in their uncontainable merriment, the mere thought of their most feared enemy as a cuddly toddler simply being too much to handle.
And if that was the state to which practically every student present had been reduced to, then one could only imagine the unfathomable horror of the once fearsome class bully. By this point, Nick's tone at had turned a fine shade of crimson as his former babysitter continued to gently cradle him like a baby. As he stared wide-eyed in total disbelief at the sight of dozens of squealing children before him, whose delight in knowing his dark secrets knew absolutely no bounds, he suddenly felt the strong urge to exit the scene. Suppressing what sounded suspiciously like a scream of terror, the boy burst free from Frankie's arms with one desperate burst of effort and immediately dashed headlong towards the school building, running as fast as his legs could possibly carry him.
"Hey! Hey, where are you going? Nick? Nick! Hey, Nicky! Ni- Oh well!" Frankie muttered to herself with a shrug, reapplying the same goofy smile as she waved at the frantically fleeing child.
"See ya later, I guess! Bye-bye!" she called, right before whirling about and jogged back towards the sidewalk to finish her run.
"Whoa!" Mac yelped in surprise, suddenly being snapped out of his dumb shock as the young woman "accidentally" bumped into him, knocking him back a few paces.
"Oh, jeez!" she cried stumbling a little and looking back over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, kid!"
"Kid?" Mac whispered incredulously, but before he could respond, the young woman just flashed him a wink, a warm grin, and with that she shot off into the distance.
For a few seconds, the eight-year-old just stood there, blankly staring out into nothingness as he furiously tried to contemplate what had just happened, around him all his classmates rolled about on the ground, practically shrieking in laughter. Well, all of them but one, actually.
"M-Mac?" Goo asked gently as she cautiously approached. Gone was her usual carefree grin, as a look of complete befuddlement adorned her features. "Was that…w-was that really…I mean, did we really just see…was that…Frankie?" she struggled to get the words out, stammering horribly in her utter disbelief.
Her friend turned to meet her bewildered gaze, looking so shocked it looked as if his eyes were moments away from bugging clear from his sockets. Taking a deep breath, Mac managed to shrug his shoulders with a low whisper of,
"Your guess is as good as mine, Goo."
"H-hello?" Mac inquired, opening the front door and taking a wary peek inside. "Um, I'm home…"
"Oh, hey pal!" a familiar voice piped up in friendly greeting. Mac glanced about and quickly spotted the lanky redhead caretaker, down on her hands and knees and clad in her usual attire as she diligently scrubbed away at the foyer floor with brush and bucket.
"Uh, hi Frankie…" the eight-year-old murmured softly, watching the industrious caretaker focus on her chore, eyes locked down upon the floor upon a particularly stubborn stain that refused to be scrubbed out of existence.
The pair silently passed the next few moments in this fashion. While the twenty-two-year-old kept her gaze down upon the floor to fixate her attention on her work, the child awkwardly remained in the doorway, fidgeting about nervously as the tense seconds ticked by.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Frankie placed her scrub brush aside, drew up onto her knees, placed her hands upon her hips in a mockingly stern fashion, and faced Mac for the first time since he had arrived.
"Well, are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna tell me how your day went?" she demanded, trying to sound stern but failing miserably to stifle the ridiculous smile that swept across her features from ear to ear.
For a few seconds Mac remained where he stood, gawking stupidly at the gleeful caretaker like a deer caught in headlights.
"You…you…y-you…" he struggled fervently to speak, mind working feverishly to comprehend it all at once. Frankie smirked at the befuddled little boy.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again; no one messes with my little brother and gets away with it." she casually announced with a chuckle, flashing him a sly wink.
With this simple declaration, it take Mac almost a full minute to fully comprehend the overwhelming sense of relief that had overtaken him, and even by then he hadn't even felt the tears of joy that had begun to cascade down his face, now adorned with a large, toothy grin.
"Aw, c'mere you." Frankie cooed teasingly as she opened her arms invitingly. The eight-year-old needed no second bidding, and he immediately lunged forward, clasping the girl tightly in a warm hug.
"You sneak! Y-you dirty sneak!" he sobbed happily, nestling his head deep in the crook of her neck. Bursting into laughter at the picture he cut, the young woman eagerly enveloped him into a warm embrace of her own, smiling coyly as she rocked him gently.
"What? Moi? A dirty sneak? Mac Foster, how could you say such a thing?" she replied, wide-eyed in feigned horror. "I prefer the term "veteran babysitter", thank you very much. You should just thank your lucky stars that I had such an extensive child-sitting service."
"I can't believe that you….that you actually….you w-went through all the trouble to…"
Mac tried to force himself to speak in something more than inaudible gibberish, but he finally had to give up the one-sided battle as he was helplessly overcome by tears.
"Oh jeez, pal!" Frankie giggled, stroking his head reassuringly. "Cool it with the waterworks, will ya? C'mon, what's wrong?"
""Y-you just seemed so…s-so angry yesterday." The boy whimpered unhappily, shuddering a little as he recalled the misery he had experience outside the principal's office. "And I…I never thought that'd you…didn't plan that….I thought you were really-"
"Infuriated? Yes. At you? Not a chance." The girl answered flatly, tightening her squeeze on him.
"B-but yesterday at school-"
"I won't lie to you Mac, I was not very happy with the way your teachers handled the whole thing." She declared defiantly with a frown.
"What? But…but I got in a fight…" Mac protested weakly, still not fully convinced of his innocence. Frankie raised an eyebrow in mock bewilderment.
"Oh? So what did you want me to do? Take it all out on you? Would you have preferred it if I had hollered at you until my voice grew hoarse, or grounded you for the next two months?"
"But-" the eight-year-old sniffled in objection.
"Mac, I'll be blunt; you did not do anything wrong yesterday. Was I peeved? You betcha. But that was because I had to get yelled out by some ex-drill sergeant because you tried to stand up for your friend. What, you thought I was gonna get ticked off because you tried to keep some bozo from picking on Goo?"
"Well, I-EW!" Mac squealed in disgust when the girl abruptly interrupted him with a quick sloppy kiss to his forehead. "Yuck, what was that for?"
"What are you talking about, you deserved it!" she only laughed gleefully, reapplying her smile. "Do you have any idea how proud I was when I heard you about what you did?"
The child's jaw dropped a little, dumbstruck by this revelation.
"P-proud? Of me?" He squeaked.
The young woman didn't even need to answer. The beaming smile covering her face and the sparkle in her eyes when she met his gaze told him everything he needed to know. His skin tone now rapidly changing into a fine shade of crimson, the befuddled little boy struggled in vain to save face.
"S-still though…shouldn't you be angry at least a little…you are my guar-"
"Guardian?" she quickly cut him off. "Yeah, but in case you've forgotten, pal, I'm no screechy mother, I'm your big sister." She dutifully reminded him with a chuckle.
"So?" Mac inquired, managing a weak smile. Frankie ruffled his hair affectionately as she flashed him a devious grin.
"Mac, big sisters don't get angry." She whispered coyly. "Big sisters only get even."
The End
That's it for now, but I have another one already in progress.
Thanks for reading, everyone! Reviews and feedback of any sort is always appreciated!