FHFIF: Thunderstorms

Thunder cracked over head as the rain poured. Conditions were perfect for one of those instant summer storms that conjured itself up in the middle of the night. The eerie clouds hung angrily in the night sky, dark and bloated with rain. Lightning flashed its white light across the clouds, lighting up the sky for a second or two. The bolts were followed by deafening roars of thunder.
Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends sat in the middle of the tempest. Inside, the residents were snuggled contently in their beds as the rain drummed on the windows and old roofs. But, with each rumble of thunder, one particular friend winced and buried himself farther into his covers.
Bloo was lying face down in his bed, covers wrapped tightly around his cylindrical body. The storm outside was almost impossible to drown out, no matter what he did. To make things worse, the old Victorian mansion creaked and moaned against the wind and rain. The sounds echoed throughout the house, cornering Bloo from all angles.
It's hard for anyone to sleep in a new place, and it's even harder when it's storming. This was no exception for Bloo. He hadn't been staying at Fosters for a long time, and was still adjusting to it. The friend sighed inwardly, rolling over and facing the wall. He wished he could will the walls to shut up so he could get some sleep, but that was silly.
Thunder growled loudly throughout the house, startling Bloo. He grumbled, but quickly lost any hostility to something stronger that was welling up inside him. A feeling he didn't like at all. A feeling that made him want to puke his guts out. He shut his eyes, his mind slipping in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, he was back in his old room he shared with Mac, the covers and pillows huddled around him and rain pattering on the apartment roof.
"Bloo?"
Bloo looked up, still clinging to his pillow. "Yeah?"
"Can you sleep?"
Bloo frowned. "Dumb storm," He answered.
Mac climbed down from the top bunk, standing beside Bloo's bunk. "Yeah, I can't sleep either." He hopped onto the bed, sitting on the edge as Bloo sat up. The imaginary friend still had his bed covers wrapped around him, a look of frustration on his face, mixed with a bit of fear. Mac smiled. "You want me to stay down here for a bit?"
"Well," Bloo answered, trying to keep his huge ego in one piece. "If you insist, I guess you can."
Mac stayed on the far end of the bunk, waiting for his friend to fall asleep. The storm wasn't so bad anymore for some reason. Bloo did feel better, now that he wasn't alone.

Bloo woke up again. Whatever had happened had been a dream. The storm still relentlessly shook the house, and Mac was nowhere to be found.
A realization struck the simple friend. Whenever he needed him, Mac was always there. Mac was always at his side when Bloo needed someone to turn to. The two were inseparable.
Bloo had never really experienced loneliness before. He never had the need to feel lonely.
Bloo hopped out of bed, shuffling over to the window. He held a pillow to his body and stared out into the yard. He cowered as another roar of thunder cracked. He hugged the pillow tighter, feeling his heartbeat accelerate against it. Every time he looked out the window, the more he thought of Mac. And the more he thought of Mac, the bigger the lump in his throat grew.
Don't start crying, his pride chided him. That would be so lame of you. So, Mac isn't here, big deal. Get over it, you wuss.
     Bloo sighed, trying to shake off this loneliness. That's right. His head replied. You don't need anyone. You're the awesome-est person in the whole house.
"I'm the awesome-est person in the whole house," Bloo muttered, walking back to his bed.
"Hey, Bloo?"
A voice from under Bloo's bed made him jump a little. "What? Who's there?"
"It's Wilt. Remember? I sleep down here?"
"Oh," Bloo replied. "Oh, yeah."
"I'm sorry, but are you okay?" Wilt asked. "You seem a bit restless."
"Me?" Bloo shook his head. "Pfft, no. I'm fine." He flopped onto his bed. "Juuuust great."
Something told him Wilt wasn't buying it. "Y'know, most of the new friends here go through this. It's hard to sleep without your kid. You aren't alone."
Bloo sat up. "For information, I don't need my kid to sleep. I'm perfectly fine without Mac."
"Mac told us you had trouble with thunderstorms."
"That was a long time ago," Bloo retorted in a harsh whisper. "Storms don't scare me anymore-"
Thunder boomed outside, catching Bloo off guard. He jolted. "S-see? No problem."
Wilt shrugged. "Imaginary friends aren't used to being lonely. It takes a long time for us to get used to not having our kid anymore. The world suddenly becomes a whole lot bigger, and you feel like you'll never belong anywhere ever again. Sometimes you feel like it's your fault," the tall friend sighed. "I know how that feels."
Bloo slipped down to the floor, not looking Wilt in the eyes. It was almost impossible to see the little blue friend wipe his left eye. "My stomach hurts," Bloo muttered.
"Well," Wilt answered, "That'll go away with some sleep. You're welcome to sleep here on the floor with me if that would help."
"Nah," Bloo hauled himself back onto the bed.
Thunder rumbled again. After a minute or two, Bloo reappeared on the floor just outside from under his bed, his head covered by his covers and pillow. He made himself comfortable on the carpet.
Wilt smiled inwardly, going back to sleep.
Just like Ed.

The End.