"Wait...wait, you home is...huh?"

"No, seriously...what do you really do?"

"Uh...I...I gotta go now and...um..."

Dates gone wrong, ex-boyfriends and former crushes; she could see glimpses of them all flashing before her. Some were teenagers, some young men, some just middle school crushes, but they all shared one thing in common. In every unpleasant memory that played out before her, not a single one was handling certain revelations about her personal life very well.

"You live where? Sorry, I don't think I heard you right at first, and…wait, really?"

"I...just don't think it's going to work out anymore..."

"Meet up again? Well I'd love to, but...uh, I got a thing..."

What was this? Every single bad date, every memory of every break up were all cycling by around her. In a blink of an eye it was high school again, and she found herself searching in vain for a prom date. Then without warning she's skipped several years forward, going on date after date, sitting in restaurant after restaurant, repeating the same all-too-familiar end.

"Well that was…uh, nice, but...I think I gotta get going now..."

"A...a kid? Wait...and he's how old? How did you...where did you say you're from again?"

"So you...um...well, that's...'interesting', I guess...uh..."

"Hahaha! No, no way you're...wait, a family picture? Okay, let me see that...oh...oh my God!"

Suddenly she was at a small Thai place uptown. The young man seated across from her was laughing uproariously at the small photo she had taken from her wallet.

"Hahahaha! Oh man, what...what is this? You don't just work with them, you...you live with those? Hahaha! Look at that one! Oh God, that one almost looks like a little old lady...what? HA! No, no way she's not one of the friends, there's just no way that...your grandma? Seriously? How can you tell her apart from anyone else there?"

She knew what was going to follow, and like clockwork this particularly dreadful night out was happening all over again. She could feel the rage rapidly surge through every ounce of her body. Suddenly, her date wasn't laughing anymore. Suddenly, his mirth was rapidly petering off into frightened silence as she stood upright, with emerald eyes blazing brightly as she balled her fingers tightly.

"Oh, you think that's all funny, huh? It's all just a big pile of laughs to you,, hmm?"

"I...I...no, wait, I didn't mean...c'mon Frankie, you can't be serious-"

"That is IT! It looks like-"

"...the only action you're getting tonight is a fist to the kisser!" the caretaker snarled furiously as she snapped awake.

Like a loaded spring, her hand shot straight up into the empty air with a ferocious strength that probably would've loosened a few teeth had someone's face there.A moment later, reality quickly caught up with her and with a gasp of relief the riled young woman let her arm flop back across her chest.

Well that had hardly been pleasant. Definitely, there was nothing like a parade of bad memories to make sure that even her dreams were no refuge from her daily woes. If nothing else could go right, then couldn't she at least get a good night's-

Wait.

Something was definitely...off. Still not dully awake, she rubbed her eyes with a drowsy groan. For starters, what was up with her bed? It definitely didn't feel the same, and...no, no, first of all, what was wrong with her pillow? One thing was for sure, it definitely didn't feel like the usual feather-filled cushion that would rest beneath her. Tonight, it felt more like her head was resting atop a couple of bony sticks, or like she was resting on someone's oddly proportioned la-

"F-Frankie? Uh...sorry, but...what was that?" the owner of the lap she was lying in loomed into the view. Having just been rudely awoken not more than a minute before by a tightly clenched fist flying just inches away from his face, Wilt understandably was quite rattled. However, ever the dearly loyal friend, he quickly went to work trying to forget his own initial fright as he now began fussing over the young woman.

Frankie was now fully awake, and already feeling like she was going to be drowned by the crushing wave of embarrassment fast washing over her. As she let out a loud groan, her cheeks lit up with a crimson blush so vibrant that her face almost matched her hair. By now everything was flooding back to her, if a bit too late. She remembered now; she hadn't gone to bed. She had just changed into an old shirt and sweatpants before settling down for a late movie with Wilt and...and...

Oh, great.

"...Pal?" Frankie whimpered as she reached out and felt about. Last she remembered, her charge had been leaning up against her as they watched It Came from Planet Snarzak.

She then looked up, and confirmed her worst fears. There at the far end of the sofa huddled a badly, badly spooked child, with eyes bugging almost to the size of saucers as his little heart thudded like mad against his ribcage. Like most children would in his situation, Mac was having a bit of trouble dealing with the fact that his guardian had burst awake shouting like an utter lunatic.

For a few moments, the room was blanketed in a painfully awkward silence, save for the murmur of the TV nearby. Now sitting up, Frankie looked to her baffled imaginary friend, and then to her half-terrified charge. Finally, not having a single clue about what else to do, she glanced up at the nearest clock, clapped her hands together and planted on the fattest, perkiest smile that she could muster in the midst of her raging embarrassment.

"...So who wants a midnight snack?"

The kitchen filled with a minor symphony of clinks and clacks as Wilt rustled through the expansive refrigerator.

"Sorry...sorry..." he apologized obsessively as his spindly arm wormed its way about countless jars, bottles and Tupperware. "Still just trying to find the mayo...I'm sorry...I know it's here somewhere, I just need a couple more seconds to-"

"It's okay." Frankie murmured absentmindedly. As her imaginary friend went about procuring the necessary supplies for sandwich-making, she sat up at the counter, fidgeting about with her ponytail. Were humiliation an acceptable currency anywhere, she probably would have had more than enough to pay off the national debt of several small nations. She tried to calm down, but this more or less a losing battle as her stress continued to weigh heavily over her.

"Frankie?"

She glanced down toward the source of the cautious inquiry. There stood Mac, with a glass of milk clutched in one hand and a box of ginger snaps gripped in the other as he finally broke his silence for the first time since their rough group awakening. With eyes wide with concern, he piped up meekly, "Are you okay?"

She couldn't help but let a weak smile sneak its was across her face as she leaned over and stretched out her arms towards the pajama-clad little one. "C'mere, you."

Mac let her pick him up and plop him atop her lap. As she stroked his head, she let out a dry chuckle. "I think you better count your lucky stars that you're adopted."

"What? Why?" he asked, glancing up and shooting her a bemused look.

"Easy; you only get the Foster name, and don't have to worry about inheriting all the crazy that usually comes with it."

This got a mild chortle out of the boy, but for a few seconds the two lapsed back into silence before Mac finally had enough. Whatever it was, he couldn't pussyfoot around the elephant in the room any longer. "So are you going to tell us what's bugging you?"

"It's...it's nothing much, really." She wasn't even thinking as the half hearted reassurances tumbled out. Barely had her charge finished his question when her brain and mouth immediately clicked again into parental auto pilot. "Don't worry about. I've just been stressing a little about...uh..."

"If you're getting so freaked out, why don't you just talk to Rudy about it?" He suddenly said bluntly, finally calling her out on her flimsy web of white lies. The young woman gawked blankly at the incredibly straightforward child before breaking out in a scowl.

"Okay...you heard a lot more than you let on earlier." She said accusingly.

"Kinda...but..." Mac flinched, but it only took a moment for him to stiffen his resolve. "This is just bothering you so much-"

"Yeah, but for listening in like a little sneak, you've temporarily lost cookie privileges." Without further ado she lowered her head and nipped a ginger snap clean out of his hand.

"Hey!" he piped up indignantly, while she only flashed a mischievous grin as she chewed her stolen snack.

"I'm sorry," Wilt interrupted as he finally joined them, with a freshly made turkey sandwich in hand. "But can someone fill me in on what's going on?"

"I...well, I..." Frankie didn't exactly feel like she was in an ideal situation. Truth be told, she still didn't feel entirely comfortable coming clean with the near-excess of emotion she was battling right now. After all, Kathy did have quite a point earlier; at first glance, it all sounded like she was making an insane fuss out of nearly nothing. It had been rough enough trying to explain everything to her best friend. To put it lightly, she definitely wasn't feeling all too jazzed up about the prospect of talking this over with her imaginary friend and her adopted charge at the same time. Most things she had no trouble sharing, but the wreck that was her dating life? They had to be joking.

"Hey, thanks." She reached out for a sandwich half in an attempt to derail the interrogation. With ease borne out of years of experience, Wilt gave gently batted away her outstretched hand, as if she were no more than a child again.

"I'm sorry," he automatically apologized, but the firmness in his tone, though hardly heavy, was still unmistakable. "But c'mon Frankie, this isn't okay. Whatever's going on, you have to at least try to tell us."

The two bore down on her with stern stares that made it all too clear; either she filled them in, or she wasn't going anywhere, whether she liked it or not. After accepting her fate, she grimaced guiltily, and after taking a few seconds to gather up enough courage, she took a long, deep breath. "Okay...but let me warn you that this probably might not make a lot of sense..."

At first she was only able to force out her anxieties rather reluctantly. However, as the minutes ticked by, she gradually grew more comfortably, and by the end of her summary she was full on spilling her guts.

"...And I know, I know, I know." She groaned. "I know that everything's going just fine right now, but that's why I'm a little freaked out. Now everything just feels too good, at least with whatever the heck he's not telling me. And I know Rudy's nothing perfect, but this is hands-down the best relationship I have ever been in. I want this to continue, and I know we agreed to be fully honest with each other from the start, but I know he's keeping this thing from me, and I have no idea what, but I feel like whatever it is it's just going to cause the whole thing to just crash and burn like everything else, and-"

Now the words had been spilling out so quickly, she had left herself a bit winded by talking. In mid-sentence she suddenly came to a screeching half to gulp down a couple needed breaths. As she recovered, a mild blush lit up her cheeks.

"Okay, sorry, but...you guys get it right? Something isn't right, and...well, I just don't know what to do."

Now a little emotionally drained from her outpour, she rested her head in her hand with a deep sigh. Immediately Wilt reached out and began to pat her shoulder with a gangly hand, as a frown of deep concern stretched across the length of his face. For the lanky figment, this was an all too familiar story, and brought back more than enough memories of late nights spent trying to console the heartbroken girl after many a breakup or terrible date.

Mac meanwhile also wanted to comfort her. However, the boy seemed to be a little bit frustrated than anything, and for a bit just stared up curiously at his guardian as his expression contorted with utter bafflement.

"Um...okay..." he said softly. "But...have you tried talking to Rudy about any of this yet?"

"Just wait a few more years, pal, and then you'll get to see that this stuff isn't so simple." she replied as she ruffled his hair a bit. "Until you, you don't really get it."

"Oh, c'mon! I think maybe if you just sat down and-"

"Mac, trust me, I'd like to...but...I also don't..." she finished lamely. This hour of the night was not the best time to try to appropriately describe the complex intricacies of relationships. Then again though, this was a topic that was never easy to handle, regardless of the time of day

"That doesn't make any sense." He complained, frowning disapprovingly at the poor explanation.

Frankie huffed. The heavens only knew how much she loved him, but they also knew that sometimes, he could be frustratingly stubborn. Granted, maybe it was just a sign that he was really starting to take after his guardian. Unfortunately, as of now she was definitely more annoyed than proud as she answered back snappily.

"Okay, you want the truth? Fine! Here it comes, then. First of all, if I'm right, then I have to deal with...I don't even know what, all I know is that considering my luck, then it's not going to be a blessing for my love life."

"But what if it's just nothing?" Mac prodded further. "What then?"

"Then if you ask me...chances are I still don't win out." She answered gloomily. "If it's nothing, then there's a good chance I'll have just pushed the whole thing towards the tipping point."

"Tipping what?" Wilt gently pried.

"C'mon, guys." She started to explain with a heavy sigh. "Let's face it, of all the ways to describe me, 'normal' is not one of them. What if I am wrong? Then what's to say that this won't be when I finally push Rudy past whatever ungodly high crazy tolerance he has? 'Oh hey honey, you know how I'm your semi-insane girlfriend who is practically half-imaginary friend herself by now? Well, surprise! I'm also paranoid, too! Now gimme a kiss!'"

"...Ew." Mac couldn't help but automatically stick out his tongue in disgust. As a child, the mental image of his guardian puckering up for a wet smooch definitely was not his cup of tea.

"Okay, too far." She apologetically retreated. "But you get where I'm going with this, right?"

"Yeah, but you're not going to know any of that if you don't try." The child in her lap continued to press doggedly, hardly deterred.

"I know, I know!" she argued back. "But...look...I don't really know what's going to happen, so I don't...now I really I don't know what to do. I could try to find out what's going on, and find out something is wrong with the one good relationship I have, because when do these things ever work out well for me? But then I could also just ruin the one good relationship I've ever had. I want to to just be honest and have a regular talk with him...and maybe that's what most people could do. But after what's passed for 'the usual' for my boyfriend history for the past several years, I don't...I really don't think I even could..."

"Frankie..." Mac moaned pleadingly, as his patience was slowly ground down.

"Put yourself in my shoes, and you try and see just how easy it is to 'just ask' about these things. I mean, I'm sure that there are nuns out there who have a better track record of dating than I do."

As the young woman debated with her adopted charge, Wilt nervously drummed his fingers upon a table, straining his mind to come up with a different strategy. Furiously he dug through the recesses of his mind until suddenly, it felt like he had struck gold.

"Frankie!" he half-shouted in his excitement, forcing the other two to involuntarily wince with a start. As they immediately switched their attention, Wilt cringed and continued, "Sorry...it's just...Frankie, remember when you were learning to ride your bike?"

"Excuse me?" the puzzled redhead replied, not exactly sure what to make of this turn in the discussion

"Yeah, of course you do! I helped you, remember?" her beanpole of an imaginary friend went on eagerly. "You were seven years old. You kept begging me to help you learn, and then finally when we went to try it, you suddenly got really scared. Remember?"

Frankie thought hard, and immediately made a face as the memory in question surfaced. "I do... but Wilt-"

"No, just hear me out! You were-"

"Wilt, I get it!" she interrupted. "And I really don't think that I like this metaphor."

"Oh c'mon Frankie." Wilt plastered on an encouraging grin, convinced that he had found a potentially successful tactic. "Remember, you suddenly started to worry that as soon as you'd get up on the bike, then you'd only end up getting hurt? Then you tried to convince me that it wasn't a good idea anymore, and-"

"Not working!" she cut in, but with no success. The lanky figment was absolutely positive he had found the perfect antidote to the situation at hand.

"I'm sorry, but I'm almost done! You kept on telling me again and again that it wasn't going to work, and I just kept encouraging you to at least try it, and finally, even though you were still scared, you got up right on that bike. And then you remember what happened next?"

Frankie started blankly, wide-eyed in disbelief. Then, wordlessly she lifted her left arm, and jabbed a finger at the semi-visible jagged scar that marked her pale skin. For a couple seconds Wilt gawked uncomprehendingly for a moment until realization set full force. Once he finally remembered just how his story came to its unfortunate end, in an instant it looked like someone had just struck him in the gut with a shovel.

"I...I-I...uh..." He stammered not even able to force out his customary flurry of apologies. Again, the trio found themselves cloaked in painfully uncomfortable silent, save for Mac who nervously grabbed another cookie and took a small bite.

Suddenly, Wilt bolted upright, and without so much as a peep he rushed out of the kitchen, leaving the others floundering in bemusement.

"...Okaaaay," Frankie muttered bewilderedly. "Now where is he-"

Before she could finish her sentence the athletic figment had reappeared in a flash, huffing for breath as he carried along a framed photo in hand.

"Sorry! Sorry! Sorrysorrysorry!" He sputtered, having finally found his voice again as he clumsily took a seat and held of the picture of a cheery lunchbox-towing little redhead and her towering, grinning companion. "Okay, okay, so...how about this? Remember, first day of kindergarten? You were also really scared, a-and the whole way I walked you to school, you...you kept telling me you didn't want to go, b-but then you-"

It had spiraled so quickly into utter ridiculousness, Frankie couldn't help but burst out chuckling as she took the picture from the overly-helpful friend's hand and set it aside.

"All right, for the final time, I get it already." She chortled, shaking a little in mirth at the sight the flustered creature cut. "You can cut it out now."

"Sorry...only trying to help." he said ruefully as she pat his hand.

"Guys, it's not like I have no idea what I really should do here." She explained. "Trust me, I definitely do. I just...it's just..."

Frankie slumped in her seat a bit as she wrapped an arm around Mac for comfort. "I feel like if I don't try and do anything, then my relationship might just fall to pieces later on from...whatever it is I don't know about yet. But if I actually talk to Rudy about...then either my mystery blows up in my face sooner than later, or I just end of sabotaging everything for no good reason. There's just so many ways for this to end poorly, and...I'm just..."

She may have been giggling uncontrollably a few minutes before, but her mood had officially taken a turn to the other end of the spectrum. Now, her emerald eyes began to sparkle wetly as the tears started to well up. "...I don't want to do...anything. I'm just so tired of getting hurt."

Frankie sniffled as she bogged down again in anguish. Mac sat there like a lump, feeling absolutely helpless and loathing the fact with a vengeance. His fertile little mind worked furiously as the hideously uncomfortable seconds ticked on by.

He squirmed about in the caretaker's hold until he could reach up a bit and wrap his arms around her slender neck in a gentle hug. Unsure of what else to say, he finally offered, "If you do go and talk to him about it...you don't have to do it by yourself."

His offer was as heartfelt as could be, but he couldn't help but grimace at the unavoidably cheesy way he had to put it. Granted, it may have been better than suggesting nothing. However, while heartwarming solutions like that might work regularly in Disney movies, was hard to say how much good this would do to his emotionally stressed parent now. Tensely he await a response, as Wilt chimed in with an encouraging smile.

"We'll be right there." He declared firmly, all the while gingerly snaking his winding arm around both young woman and child. As Mac meanwhile tightened his own gentle hold, Frankie actually managed to conjure up a weak but still genuine smile. Even though a tear or two trickled down one of her cheeks, she nevertheless let out a chuckle as the three grouped closer together in a tight family huddle. Maybe they were right. After all, if worst came to worst, then at least she wouldn't be completely alone.

"Dating advice from my imaginary friend and my nine-year-old." She said softly with hoarse giggle. "Well how can I possibly lose?"