Fifth chapter of the mullet!fic....
...and at this point I should really be thinking of naming this thing. Maybe Bob. Fred? I've always been fond of Alejandro. But enough about that, you probably don't care!
Thanks go out again to lakidaa. Some scenes were originally RP/chat and general silliness with her. So direct any coffeepot love in her direction, that was her idea. (You'll know it when you see it.)
Next chapter, I promise to post the picture of Zombie Max.
CHAPTERS: { Prologue }{ Chapter One }{ Chapter Two }{ Chapter Three }{ Chapter Four }{ Chapter Five }{ Chapter Six }{ Chapter Seven }{ Epilogue }
<-{ previous story: The Redemption of Booster Gold } { next story: Midst Of Rough Earthliness }->
~5th Chapter
Ted quickly got over the possible-imminent-kiss-from-best-friend surprise and moved straight into suddenly-unconscious-best-friend surprise, staggering a little as he found himself supporting Booster's full weight. Making a snappy and logical decision, he decided to consult someone who had been around Booster recently for longer than he had.
And Zombie Max was just out of the question.
Head thrown back, Ted bellowed, "JUNIOR!"
There was a thump from upstairs, then the pounding of rapid footsteps, followed closely by the basement door banging open and the clunk of stairs being taken many at a time. The whole process took well under a minute and soon the boy was staring down at him from the stairs, eyes wide as he took in the scene. "Is he dead?"
Ted opened his mouth to snap a reply, but stopped when he took a look at Junior's face; he was genuinely worried that Booster might have suddenly dropped dead for no apparent reason.
"No." Ted sighed, shifting the man in his arms to grip him under the armpits. "He's just unconscious." He grunted slightly as he dragged Booster over to the cot he had woken up on earlier and dumped him on it. Once he had the man situated comfortably, Ted straightened and turned to face the boy. "Let's talk."
-----
Booster groaned softly as he regained consciousness. He felt slightly hungover. Hungover in the sense that his head was pounding and he had the vague feeling that he'd done something stupid. But something had been resolved, he thought, and Ted was--
"Waaakey wakey, Booster buddy."
...sitting next to him with an expectant look on his face, Booster found as he cracked open his eyes. Over Ted's shoulder, Booster could see Junior nervously glancing between the two, fidgeting guiltily.
"Oh good, you're awake," Ted said casually.
"Um." said Booster.
"Junior's been telling me all about what a great job you've been doing taking care of yourself," Ted continued, voice stern and sarcastic in equal parts.
"Uh?"
"One of his fondest memories is of cold corn. Cold. Corn, Booster." Ted was frowning. Behind him, Booster could see Junior open his mouth to say something, then reconsider mid-inhalation and close his mouth again. "What's the last thing you ate?"
Booster cast his mind back for a moment before settling on the memory of Junior's grin over a box of-- "Raisins."
Glancing over his shoulder, Ted asked, "When was that, kiddo?"
Junior shot Booster an apologetic look before answering, "Yesterday."
Closing his eyes again, Booster muttered without any real conviction, "Traitor snitch."
Ted swatted at Booster's hair. Then he frowned and poked at it. Curiosity apparently satisfied, he took a deep breath and clapped his hands, plastering on an enthusiastic smile. "So it's settled -- we're going out to get supplies. It'll be...a...nice...family...outing." A muscle in his face twitched as he forced the words out.
Junior's face lit up, eyes widening with excitement. "Cool! Can we get more corn?"
Ted's gaze swung back around from Junior to Booster and he frowned at the man. Booster grimaced and practiced being One With The Cot.
-----
Preparing for the outing took longer than Ted had expected. As with most superheroes, he and Booster were old hands at getting into and out of their costumes in a hurry. Since his closet had remained relatively untouched by the various damage done to the house, Ted was able to change easily enough, and Booster traded his black hoodie for one of Ted's shirts, jackets, and (at Ted's insistence) a hat.
The problem was Junior.
While he had figured out where the nonperishables were stored easily enough, gotten the TV working, been tinkering with a robot, and taking care of some of the more basic maintenance around the house...he hadn't figured out much in the way of personal hygiene. His hair had yet to see a comb, ever. The water hadn't been shut off yet, but he hadn't used it for anything but drinking.
When Ted explained to the boy that it was probably a bad idea to go out in a shirt that threatened to fall off both shoulders simultaneously and novelty boxers that could easily be considered a public indecency, Booster muttered something suspicious about lime green shoes and dominant genes.
The problem was solved easily enough, though. Junior had enough sense to figure things out once handed soap and shampoo and pointed toward the shower. Combing was a bit more difficult, but with the crazy things kids did to their hair, Ted and Booster didn't think anyone would really notice. They found a shirt for him that was slightly stretchy so the openings for the head and arms were smaller to begin with, and managed to belt up a pair of shorts around his narrow waist. Ted instructed him to keep his jacket at least partially zipped up to hide the makeshift wardrobe, just in case some well-meaning neighbor tried to report him for child abuse and revealed that not only was he supposed to be dead, but he also wasn't supposed to have any children.
With that all handled, they set out for the store.
Three minutes later they returned to the house to use the bathroom.
"You should have gone before we left, Booster!" Ted shouted after him.
-----
The term "culture shock" describes feelings of anxiety, disorientation, and confusion felt by an individual when they come into contact with a new social environment.
Ted had been to the store before. Many times throughout his life, in fact. It was not, technically speaking, a new social environment for him.
Despite that, he was feeling a degree of culture shock. The smudged but shiny linoleum, the overhead fluorescent lighting, the constant buzz of chatter and motion, the filtered and regulated air, and the soft, easily forgettable overlay of piped-in music. It was all a far cry from cement and scorched carpet, intermittent natural and electrical light, eerie silence broken only by the sporadic sounds from Booster and Junior, air whistling irregularly through gaping holes in the house's structure, even the soft, occasional shuffle of Zombie Max in his closet. It was amazing how quickly he had gotten used to the insular existence. And if he was feeling disoriented....
Glancing to either side, he realized for the first time that Booster and Junior had moved progressively closer to him as they got closer to the store. Now that they were in the store, Ted's personal space had shrunk so much that any sudden movements on his part would probably result in one or both of his entourage plastered to his side.
Ted put his arms around the shoulders of Booster and Junior, stifling a laugh as they both jumped in surprise. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Okay, troops, what do we need?"
"Corn." Junior said immediately. After a second's thought he added, "Raisins."
Turning to Booster, Ted asked, "Does the voice of experience have anything to add?"
"Nothing that'll spoil," Booster said, leaning into him.
Ted frowned. "Why? What's wrong with my fridge?"
"I think rats got in it."
"...How could rats get in my fridge?" Ted asked, bewildered.
Equally bewildered, and a little embarrassed, Booster just shrugged.
"Nevermind," Ted sighed, hanging his head. It was fast becoming obvious that in order to get anything done he would have to cultivate a well-crafted state of denial. Everything normal here! No formerly dead superheroes, no sir! We're all sane, here!
"To the produce department!" Ted declared, dropping his arms from around Booster and Junior to point in the correct direction. That said, he marched off in the direction of fresh green things, firmly wrapping denial around himself in a protective layer.
-----
Ted was comparing the prices of two cans of soup that, to his untrained eye, looked exactly the same when he felt something suddenly impact with his side and grab him around the middle. Surprised, he jumped, let out a very unmanly yelp, and almost dropped the can of soup he was holding.
When he looked down, he found Junior...hugging him. Hugging him and looking up at him worriedly.
"Um," said Ted as the boy let go.
"Was that right?" Junior asked quietly. "I saw--And you said we were family, so...." He trailed off, looking uncertain.
Something inside Ted hurt just a little, looking down at the boy's earnest expression. "Yeah," he said softly, setting a hand on Junior's shoulder and pulling him close again. "It is. And...we are."
Junior beamed up at him, then leaned his head against Ted's side and let out a contented sigh.
They stood like that for a few moments, Junior leaning in and Ted just letting his hand rest on the boy's shoulder, before Junior looked up again and grinned, with what Ted suddenly suspected were Booster's shiny future teeth. "I'm gonna go find Booster now," he announced.
Ted grinned back, the same grin but with different teeth, and ruffled the boy's hair. "And give him a big hug?"
"Yeah!" Junior enthused, bouncing away.
Halfway down the aisle, he abruptly stopped, turned around, and ran back to give Ted another quick hug. "Thanks, Ted!" he chirped, then bounded off again.
"Yeah, you're welcome," Ted murmured, watching him disappear around the corner. Then he turned back to the selection of soups and did his best to wrap himself up in chicken-noodle denial.
-----
Meanwhile, in the nearby home of Noah Kuttler, also known as The Calculator, an argument was taking place. That in and of itself was not unusual. What was unusual was that the argument was taking place between Noah and his coffeemaker.
In his line of work, Noah consumed large amounts of caffeine. Coffee was his lifeblood, and any attempts to keep it from him were naturally met with a great deal of crankiness.
"Cappachino, you oversized tincan!" Noah snapped. "How hard is that? Just make me a damn cappachino!"
"No," the coffeemaker replied, its computerized voice sounding, if anything, petulant.
"I paid good money for you! Make it!! Make anything! Cappachino, coffee, I don't care, as long as it has caffeine!!"
"Nnnnnnno," drawled the coffeemaker. It had obviously not been a coffeemaker for very long, and so was not fully aware of the temperament of a caffeine addict deprived of their fix.
Noah growled something unintelligible, grabbed the coffeemaker in both hands, and suddenly chucked it out the open window. Then he started digging through his kitchen for his old coffeepot, thinking that perhaps there were some things technology couldn't improve.
As the stubborn little coffeemaker that wouldn't flew through the air, it reveled in its new-found freedom.
"Wheee!"
-----
Walking home from the store, one did not expect for metal objects bigger than a breadbox to come hurtling through the air to impact with one's head. So it came as quite a surprise when one did just that to Booster, knocking the hat off his head and nearly knocking him on his backside. Instinctively catching the object as it bounced off his head, Booster frowned, looked up, then looked at the object again. "Coffeemaker from the sky," he muttered, absently rubbing his head. "Huh."
"Sir?" the coffeemaker asked, sounding both surprised and pleased.
Booster nearly dropped the object again. "SKEETS?!"
"I live!" the AI proclaimed.
Booster stared.
This exchange had not gone unnoticed, and Ted and Junior had stopped as well to see what was happening.
Ted stared.
Junior perked up. "Spare parts!"
"Not again!" Skeets mourned.
"No!" Booster snapped sternly, holding the former robot out of reach.
"What the hell?" Ted muttered, feeling a headache coming on.
Junior, abandoning the bag of groceries he had been carrying, stood on his toes trying to reach the coffeemaker, then resorted to little hops. No success. Frowning, he pointed at Ted and said, "This is your stupid genes' fault."
"Not my fault!" Ted snapped, setting his bag of groceries down next to Junior's.
"Actually it is." Booster said smugly, standing up to his full height. "He didn't get the short genes from me."
Ted glowered at him, but before he could say anything, Skeets piped up saying, "Please fix me!"
There was a quiet pause as Ted and Junior looked at each other, then turned identical grins toward Skeets. Booster hugged the coffeemaker close. "I'm almost scared to hand Skeets over to you." Skeets made an alarmed-sounding beep.
"Since when has anything I built crapped out, Booster?" Ted asked defensively.
"...The microwave."
Ted frowned.
"The dishwasher." Booster continued, ignoring Ted's frown. "The ICE machine--"
"Any non-kitchen appliance, thank you!" Ted snapped.
While Skeets muttered predictions of doom and gloom under his nonexistent breath and Booster and Ted were occupied arguing, Junior shimmied up a nearby streetlight and suddenly lunged for the coffeemaker, grabbing it in both hands and landing neatly on his feet. "Gotcha!" he cried triumphantly, then yelled toward Ted, "Run!" as he turned tail and sped off toward home.
"Huh?" Seeing the boy disappearing down the street, Ted scooped up a bag of groceries and sprinted off after him.
"What the hell?" Booster muttered, staring at his empty hands.
Skeets's panicked computerized voice called out, "Save me!"
Booster stared after them. Then he sighed, picked up his own groceries and Junior's, and followed at a steady but quick pace.
-----
[ETA of chapter the sixth: partially written, plot mostly figured out]
Thanks go out again to lakidaa. Some scenes were originally RP/chat and general silliness with her. So direct any coffeepot love in her direction, that was her idea. (You'll know it when you see it.)
Next chapter, I promise to post the picture of Zombie Max.
CHAPTERS: { Prologue }{ Chapter One }{ Chapter Two }{ Chapter Three }{ Chapter Four }{ Chapter Five }{ Chapter Six }{ Chapter Seven }{ Epilogue }
<-{ previous story: The Redemption of Booster Gold } { next story: Midst Of Rough Earthliness }->
~5th Chapter
Ted quickly got over the possible-imminent-kiss-from-best-friend surprise and moved straight into suddenly-unconscious-best-friend surprise, staggering a little as he found himself supporting Booster's full weight. Making a snappy and logical decision, he decided to consult someone who had been around Booster recently for longer than he had.
And Zombie Max was just out of the question.
Head thrown back, Ted bellowed, "JUNIOR!"
There was a thump from upstairs, then the pounding of rapid footsteps, followed closely by the basement door banging open and the clunk of stairs being taken many at a time. The whole process took well under a minute and soon the boy was staring down at him from the stairs, eyes wide as he took in the scene. "Is he dead?"
Ted opened his mouth to snap a reply, but stopped when he took a look at Junior's face; he was genuinely worried that Booster might have suddenly dropped dead for no apparent reason.
"No." Ted sighed, shifting the man in his arms to grip him under the armpits. "He's just unconscious." He grunted slightly as he dragged Booster over to the cot he had woken up on earlier and dumped him on it. Once he had the man situated comfortably, Ted straightened and turned to face the boy. "Let's talk."
-----
Booster groaned softly as he regained consciousness. He felt slightly hungover. Hungover in the sense that his head was pounding and he had the vague feeling that he'd done something stupid. But something had been resolved, he thought, and Ted was--
"Waaakey wakey, Booster buddy."
...sitting next to him with an expectant look on his face, Booster found as he cracked open his eyes. Over Ted's shoulder, Booster could see Junior nervously glancing between the two, fidgeting guiltily.
"Oh good, you're awake," Ted said casually.
"Um." said Booster.
"Junior's been telling me all about what a great job you've been doing taking care of yourself," Ted continued, voice stern and sarcastic in equal parts.
"Uh?"
"One of his fondest memories is of cold corn. Cold. Corn, Booster." Ted was frowning. Behind him, Booster could see Junior open his mouth to say something, then reconsider mid-inhalation and close his mouth again. "What's the last thing you ate?"
Booster cast his mind back for a moment before settling on the memory of Junior's grin over a box of-- "Raisins."
Glancing over his shoulder, Ted asked, "When was that, kiddo?"
Junior shot Booster an apologetic look before answering, "Yesterday."
Closing his eyes again, Booster muttered without any real conviction, "Traitor snitch."
Ted swatted at Booster's hair. Then he frowned and poked at it. Curiosity apparently satisfied, he took a deep breath and clapped his hands, plastering on an enthusiastic smile. "So it's settled -- we're going out to get supplies. It'll be...a...nice...family...outing." A muscle in his face twitched as he forced the words out.
Junior's face lit up, eyes widening with excitement. "Cool! Can we get more corn?"
Ted's gaze swung back around from Junior to Booster and he frowned at the man. Booster grimaced and practiced being One With The Cot.
-----
Preparing for the outing took longer than Ted had expected. As with most superheroes, he and Booster were old hands at getting into and out of their costumes in a hurry. Since his closet had remained relatively untouched by the various damage done to the house, Ted was able to change easily enough, and Booster traded his black hoodie for one of Ted's shirts, jackets, and (at Ted's insistence) a hat.
The problem was Junior.
While he had figured out where the nonperishables were stored easily enough, gotten the TV working, been tinkering with a robot, and taking care of some of the more basic maintenance around the house...he hadn't figured out much in the way of personal hygiene. His hair had yet to see a comb, ever. The water hadn't been shut off yet, but he hadn't used it for anything but drinking.
When Ted explained to the boy that it was probably a bad idea to go out in a shirt that threatened to fall off both shoulders simultaneously and novelty boxers that could easily be considered a public indecency, Booster muttered something suspicious about lime green shoes and dominant genes.
The problem was solved easily enough, though. Junior had enough sense to figure things out once handed soap and shampoo and pointed toward the shower. Combing was a bit more difficult, but with the crazy things kids did to their hair, Ted and Booster didn't think anyone would really notice. They found a shirt for him that was slightly stretchy so the openings for the head and arms were smaller to begin with, and managed to belt up a pair of shorts around his narrow waist. Ted instructed him to keep his jacket at least partially zipped up to hide the makeshift wardrobe, just in case some well-meaning neighbor tried to report him for child abuse and revealed that not only was he supposed to be dead, but he also wasn't supposed to have any children.
With that all handled, they set out for the store.
Three minutes later they returned to the house to use the bathroom.
"You should have gone before we left, Booster!" Ted shouted after him.
-----
The term "culture shock" describes feelings of anxiety, disorientation, and confusion felt by an individual when they come into contact with a new social environment.
Ted had been to the store before. Many times throughout his life, in fact. It was not, technically speaking, a new social environment for him.
Despite that, he was feeling a degree of culture shock. The smudged but shiny linoleum, the overhead fluorescent lighting, the constant buzz of chatter and motion, the filtered and regulated air, and the soft, easily forgettable overlay of piped-in music. It was all a far cry from cement and scorched carpet, intermittent natural and electrical light, eerie silence broken only by the sporadic sounds from Booster and Junior, air whistling irregularly through gaping holes in the house's structure, even the soft, occasional shuffle of Zombie Max in his closet. It was amazing how quickly he had gotten used to the insular existence. And if he was feeling disoriented....
Glancing to either side, he realized for the first time that Booster and Junior had moved progressively closer to him as they got closer to the store. Now that they were in the store, Ted's personal space had shrunk so much that any sudden movements on his part would probably result in one or both of his entourage plastered to his side.
Ted put his arms around the shoulders of Booster and Junior, stifling a laugh as they both jumped in surprise. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Okay, troops, what do we need?"
"Corn." Junior said immediately. After a second's thought he added, "Raisins."
Turning to Booster, Ted asked, "Does the voice of experience have anything to add?"
"Nothing that'll spoil," Booster said, leaning into him.
Ted frowned. "Why? What's wrong with my fridge?"
"I think rats got in it."
"...How could rats get in my fridge?" Ted asked, bewildered.
Equally bewildered, and a little embarrassed, Booster just shrugged.
"Nevermind," Ted sighed, hanging his head. It was fast becoming obvious that in order to get anything done he would have to cultivate a well-crafted state of denial. Everything normal here! No formerly dead superheroes, no sir! We're all sane, here!
"To the produce department!" Ted declared, dropping his arms from around Booster and Junior to point in the correct direction. That said, he marched off in the direction of fresh green things, firmly wrapping denial around himself in a protective layer.
-----
Ted was comparing the prices of two cans of soup that, to his untrained eye, looked exactly the same when he felt something suddenly impact with his side and grab him around the middle. Surprised, he jumped, let out a very unmanly yelp, and almost dropped the can of soup he was holding.
When he looked down, he found Junior...hugging him. Hugging him and looking up at him worriedly.
"Um," said Ted as the boy let go.
"Was that right?" Junior asked quietly. "I saw--And you said we were family, so...." He trailed off, looking uncertain.
Something inside Ted hurt just a little, looking down at the boy's earnest expression. "Yeah," he said softly, setting a hand on Junior's shoulder and pulling him close again. "It is. And...we are."
Junior beamed up at him, then leaned his head against Ted's side and let out a contented sigh.
They stood like that for a few moments, Junior leaning in and Ted just letting his hand rest on the boy's shoulder, before Junior looked up again and grinned, with what Ted suddenly suspected were Booster's shiny future teeth. "I'm gonna go find Booster now," he announced.
Ted grinned back, the same grin but with different teeth, and ruffled the boy's hair. "And give him a big hug?"
"Yeah!" Junior enthused, bouncing away.
Halfway down the aisle, he abruptly stopped, turned around, and ran back to give Ted another quick hug. "Thanks, Ted!" he chirped, then bounded off again.
"Yeah, you're welcome," Ted murmured, watching him disappear around the corner. Then he turned back to the selection of soups and did his best to wrap himself up in chicken-noodle denial.
-----
Meanwhile, in the nearby home of Noah Kuttler, also known as The Calculator, an argument was taking place. That in and of itself was not unusual. What was unusual was that the argument was taking place between Noah and his coffeemaker.
In his line of work, Noah consumed large amounts of caffeine. Coffee was his lifeblood, and any attempts to keep it from him were naturally met with a great deal of crankiness.
"Cappachino, you oversized tincan!" Noah snapped. "How hard is that? Just make me a damn cappachino!"
"No," the coffeemaker replied, its computerized voice sounding, if anything, petulant.
"I paid good money for you! Make it!! Make anything! Cappachino, coffee, I don't care, as long as it has caffeine!!"
"Nnnnnnno," drawled the coffeemaker. It had obviously not been a coffeemaker for very long, and so was not fully aware of the temperament of a caffeine addict deprived of their fix.
Noah growled something unintelligible, grabbed the coffeemaker in both hands, and suddenly chucked it out the open window. Then he started digging through his kitchen for his old coffeepot, thinking that perhaps there were some things technology couldn't improve.
As the stubborn little coffeemaker that wouldn't flew through the air, it reveled in its new-found freedom.
"Wheee!"
-----
Walking home from the store, one did not expect for metal objects bigger than a breadbox to come hurtling through the air to impact with one's head. So it came as quite a surprise when one did just that to Booster, knocking the hat off his head and nearly knocking him on his backside. Instinctively catching the object as it bounced off his head, Booster frowned, looked up, then looked at the object again. "Coffeemaker from the sky," he muttered, absently rubbing his head. "Huh."
"Sir?" the coffeemaker asked, sounding both surprised and pleased.
Booster nearly dropped the object again. "SKEETS?!"
"I live!" the AI proclaimed.
Booster stared.
This exchange had not gone unnoticed, and Ted and Junior had stopped as well to see what was happening.
Ted stared.
Junior perked up. "Spare parts!"
"Not again!" Skeets mourned.
"No!" Booster snapped sternly, holding the former robot out of reach.
"What the hell?" Ted muttered, feeling a headache coming on.
Junior, abandoning the bag of groceries he had been carrying, stood on his toes trying to reach the coffeemaker, then resorted to little hops. No success. Frowning, he pointed at Ted and said, "This is your stupid genes' fault."
"Not my fault!" Ted snapped, setting his bag of groceries down next to Junior's.
"Actually it is." Booster said smugly, standing up to his full height. "He didn't get the short genes from me."
Ted glowered at him, but before he could say anything, Skeets piped up saying, "Please fix me!"
There was a quiet pause as Ted and Junior looked at each other, then turned identical grins toward Skeets. Booster hugged the coffeemaker close. "I'm almost scared to hand Skeets over to you." Skeets made an alarmed-sounding beep.
"Since when has anything I built crapped out, Booster?" Ted asked defensively.
"...The microwave."
Ted frowned.
"The dishwasher." Booster continued, ignoring Ted's frown. "The ICE machine--"
"Any non-kitchen appliance, thank you!" Ted snapped.
While Skeets muttered predictions of doom and gloom under his nonexistent breath and Booster and Ted were occupied arguing, Junior shimmied up a nearby streetlight and suddenly lunged for the coffeemaker, grabbing it in both hands and landing neatly on his feet. "Gotcha!" he cried triumphantly, then yelled toward Ted, "Run!" as he turned tail and sped off toward home.
"Huh?" Seeing the boy disappearing down the street, Ted scooped up a bag of groceries and sprinted off after him.
"What the hell?" Booster muttered, staring at his empty hands.
Skeets's panicked computerized voice called out, "Save me!"
Booster stared after them. Then he sighed, picked up his own groceries and Junior's, and followed at a steady but quick pace.
-----
[ETA of chapter the sixth: partially written, plot mostly figured out]