Welcome, one and all to my first ever Danny Phantom/Fairly Oddparents Crossover! My name is JustAnotherFan15, but you can call me JAF! Everyone else does, so you can too! Please do, JustAnotherFan15 is a bit of a mouthful otherwise.
This is, also, my second attempt at returning to writin' after a year break of personal reasons. If you really want to know, because yer noisy or honestly concerned or, if 'ya already know who I am and haven't seen it yet, there if a quick explanation on my profile.
But enough of that serious-personal stuff! Yer all here for the story! Well, its more like the prologue of a story I want to continue, but we'll see. Movin' on!
So, you probably noticed the summary, and yer here to either pelt me with tomatoes for what I'm doin' to Timmy, or to read the story. If it's the second, well then — on to the Summary! If its the first... *runs away*
Summery: Everyone knew that the Turners were idiots, it wasn't hard to figure that out. What no one expected, though, was that they were completely incapable of raising their own child to such a degree. With his parents taken in for Child Neglect and suspected Abuse, Timmy is taken in by his distant relatives in Amity Park. AU. No fairies.
Well, that was depressing. It'll get better though, I promise! It might take awhile, though... I really want to get into the characters heads a bit, and show a side or two not normally seen. If I continue that is, which I hope to do, but y'all noticed the 'complete' status. If it continues, I'll change that.
But enough of my yappin'! Onward to the story!
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom nor the Fairly Oddparents. I merely own my own thoughts, imagination, and ideas. Thank you for understanding.
Prologue: Shocking Revelations
It had been a shock to find out.
The Turner parents were idiots, no one could deny that. But they were surprisingly good parents... So everyone believed.
Nothing really stood out at first, in fact, it took nearly five years for even the neighbors, the Dinklebergs, to notice.
"It was a shock," Mr. Dinkleberg told the officer in charge of the case. "I knew Turner might have been a few apples short of a bushel, but I didn't think..."
No one did, that was the problem. Either the Turners weren't as stupid as everyone thought... or no one honestly noticed. And that was what really scared people. That no one could realize such terrible things could be happening so close to them, and they would never even know.
And they wouldn't have, if it wasn't for one fateful day when Mrs. Dinkleberg noticed that the Turner's front door was left open.
Normally, she wouldn't have thought much of this, but she remembered that the Turners had left early last week for a two-week vacation despite Timmy still having school. Concerned, Mrs. Dinkleberg had called the police and entered the house, though the operator had told her not to.
At first, everything seemed normal, and Mrs. Dinkleberg wondered if the Turners had simply forgotten to lock their door properly (it wouldn't have been the first time), when she heard something move around upstairs.
"I thought it might have been an animal," Mrs. Dinkleberg explained later, blowing her nose and drying her eyes. "It was so quiet, and light. I even thought I might have imagined it. But I didn't, and I'm glad I went up those stairs. Though I'm shocked we never realized..."
She had gone up the stairs, wondering if she had imagined the sound of light, almost nonexistent, footsteps or if a raccoon had gotten into the house. As she was wondering if she should also call animal control, the sound of sirens started up in the distance, slowly getting closer.
There's the police, she thought, I should probably leave before they get here... what was that? She jerked back in surprise as something went thud! down the hall.
Now, Mrs. Dinkleberg didn't know the layout of the house, or exactly how many rooms there even were, but she knew enough to realize that the noise came from the Turners' son's room. She knew this because Timmy's room was located in the top-right corner of the house, with a view of both the back and front yard (though no one was really sure how that was possible, given the small size of his room).
Concerned, and maybe just a little bit frightened, Mrs. Dinkleberg approached the closed door. It was probably just a raccoon, she quietly reassured herself. Nothing to be afraid of.
She quietly opened the door and looked inside. What she found made her gasp and throw her hands to her face in shock.
The squad car dispatched to answer her call arrived less then three minutes later. The two officers stepped out of the car and glanced around, wondering if it might have been a prank call.
That thought vanished when Mrs. Dinkleberg rushed out of the house, shouting for help and for someone to "Call an ambulance! Quickly! He needs a doctor!"
The female officer stayed outside with Mrs. Dinkleberg, trying to calm the middle-aged woman down as her partner hurried into the house, gun drawn.
"What's wrong? Ma'am, please, I need you to calm down and tell me what's happened," Officer Mary Facett said calmly. Mrs. Dinkleberg had tears in her eyes, mascara running down her cheeks. "Who needs a doctor?" Mrs. Dinkleberg shook, and just repeated, over and over, "Please, he needs help!"
The radio on Facett's belt crackled to life as her partner, Officer George McDonald, called over the radio to Dispatch.
"Dispatch! Come in Dispatch, we need an ambulance to 2150 Fawn Street. I repeat, an ambulance to 2150 Fawn Street, there is an unconscious boy in the upstairs bedroom, top right!"
Less then twenty minutes later, three more squad cars were at the Turner household and the boy, identified as young Timmy Turner, was in the hospital being diagnosed with emaciation, three bruised ribs, a broken arm, and bruises littering his body both new and old. There was also scarring across his back and cuts along his sides that couldn't be more then two weeks old.
Upon waking up the next day, Lieutenant James Garrison was called in to ask the young boy a few questions. Garrison asked Timmy some standard questions: where were his parents? Why was he in his house alone? When was the last time he had a full meal? Where did he get his injuries? Had his parents done this to him?
Timmy answered his questions, though he hesitated when his injuries came up. His astral blue eyes darted around the hospital room, breath catching slightly. He was clearly very nervous, though whether it was because of the questions, the fact he was in a hospital, or both was uncertain. It was common knowledge that Timmy Turner had a deep fear of hospitals, though no one was sure why (other then the staff of the hospital across town and his babysitter).
"My parents went on a two-week cruise vacation, they left on Monday last week," Timmy told the Lieutenant, "they left me behind so I wouldn't miss any school." Timmy's eyes darted away from the older man as he said this, leading Garrison to believe it was a lie. Timmy snorted when asked when he last ate a full meal. "Mom's cooking could raise the dead, kill them, raise them again, then kill them again. If it doesn't eat you first.
"Naw, they ordered take-out the day before they left and there were some leftovers in the fridge for while they were gone, and I can cook somewhat. Though, there wasn't a whole lot in there this time..." Timmy got quite on the next two questions. "My parents never hit me, if that's what you're asking, Mister."
Garrison wasn't able to get anything else out of the boy about his injuries, so he moved on. He asked what Timmy meant when he said "this time".
"Just that," Timmy replied. "This isn't the first time they've left me at home while they left. Though, they do usually get a babysitter. Don't know why they didn't this time. I guess they forgot?"
The more Timmy talked, the more Garrison started to think that the Turners weren't the best parents. Now, don't get him wrong, Garrison didn't have any children of his own, so he wasn't entirely sure how to raise them; but he was pretty sure that you didn't leave your kid home alone for two weeks with barely enough food for a few days. That was another thing that bothered him, if Timmy had been eating regularly, he wouldn't be in the condition he was in now.
The emaciation was minor, thank goodness, with his ribs and hipbones only just barely showing, but it was clear he hadn't eaten anything in a few days.
Garrison questioned Timmy on his eating habits, and the boy shrugged, looking uncomfortable.
"Like I said, Mom's cooking isn't the best. So if it tries to eat us or runs away, we just call take-out, or go get it. Though, they do forget to take me to the restaurant sometimes. But that's okay, there's always something in the fridge!" Timmy told Garrison, grinning up at him, buck teeth shining.
Garrison was positive that that wasn't normal, though Timmy seemed to think otherwise. Of course he did, though, Garrison thought. That's what he thinks is normal because its how he was raised.
That didn't sit right with Lieutenant James Garrison, and he formally charged the Turners with Child Neglect and Suspected Abuse when they returned two days later. While being handcuffed after arriving in the hospital, the same room Timmy was in, they both protested.
"That's absurd!" Mr. Turner cried as he was shoved against a wall by McDonald. "We would never hurt our son, Terry!"
"Timmy," Timmy corrected boredly, in a tone that suggested this was a normal occurrence.
"That's what I said, Tommy!"
Timmy sighed and turned to Garrison. "Mister Garrison, sir? Why are you arresting my parents? I mean, sure, they're stupid, but they aren't bad."
Garrison looked over at Timmy, the boy looking both confused and a little scared. That was to be expected, though, he was watching his parents get arrested right in front of him. Garrison knelt down next to Timmy's bed, and put on the best smile he could given the circumstances.
"Timmy," he said calmly, ignoring the two protesting Turners being shown the door. "Do you have any other family that you can stay with?" he knew he was avoiding the question, but he wanted to keep Timmy calm and answer the question before he dropped the bomb.
Timmy frowned and fiddled with the blanket thoughtfully. "My Pappy and Aunt Gertrude are both in assisted living homes, and Grandpa and Grandma are as well. But I think I remember Dad talking about a distant cousin once when I was little. Uhh, Jack... Fenton, I think? Why? What's going on?" the answer seemed to hit a moment later, and astral colored eyes widened. "You're sending me away, aren't you? You're taking me from Mom and Dad! Why?"
Garrison couldn't lie to him now, not that he had been going to. Timmy deserved to know. Though he did make a mental note to look into Mr. Turner's family to see if there was a 'Jack Fenton' somewhere in there.
"From what we can see, they aren't capable to raise a child, you, safely," Garrison told him bluntly. Might as well get it over with. Timmy stared at him, then turned his head to the door, where they could still hear the protesting shouts of the two elder Turners.
"But... okay, maybe they aren't the best, but they aren't the worst! They love me and take care of me! Maybe not in the most con-con-conventional way, but they do!" Timmy protested. Garrison sighed. This was why he hated cases like this.
"Maybe, but we can't take the chance that they might leave you again, and not leave you any food or without supervision. If something were to happen, then they would be charge with more then Child Neglect and Suspected Abuse," Garrison told him. He wasn't good at sugarcoating things, and he got the feeling that Timmy wouldn't appreciate it.
Timmy watched the door for a few more minutes, until the voices of his parents were out of earshot. He took a deep breath and slowly turned his head back to the Lieutenant. His astral blue eyes were wet, but no tears fell.
It would happen, though, probably after the Lieutenant had left. Timmy was very good at keeping things hidden when he wanted to. It was because of that learned skill that it took so long for anyone to realize or notice. He'd had to convince his friends, Chester and AJ not to tell anyone, and though they agreed not to say anything, he knew they didn't like it.
Garrison waited, watching the barely-ten-year-old gather his thoughts. He wondered what was going through the boy's head, and wondered how his life to this point would effect his view of the world. He had no doubt that the boy's thought-process was probably a bit screwed, that was made clear during the questioning, but how much? That was the real question.
"Are you going to send me to Dad's cousin?" Timmy asked, breaking Garrison out of his thoughts.
"We'll see," Garrison said. First he had to find out if there was a Jack Fenton in the family, and if there was, if they he would be willing to take Timmy in.
Timmy nodded slowly before letting his eyes stray to the window. He was tired —very tired— all of a sudden.
Garrison noticed the boy's eyes start to close and decided that was enough for the day. He quietly got up and left the room, stopping only once before leaving to look back on the boy, now fast asleep.
He looked even smaller, Garrison noticed, laying there. He was already small for his age, lack of nutrition he was sure, and the though the Pediatric Ward was less white then the rest of the Hospital, it still seemed to engulf the child.
Garrison left, just as silent tears started to fall from the boy's closed eyes. He wasn't asleep just yet.
And we're done!
So, what did you think? I've read a lot of Danny Phantom/Fairly Oddparents Crossovers, but I never really found one with this idea. So I decided to write my own!
Also, if you can help me with better genres, please let me know, I'm still gettin' back into the swing of things, and a bit paranoid that's I'm labeling my story wrong, thanks!
Now, onto the questions!
Does Mr. Turner have a cousin named Jack Fenton? What will happen to the Turners? Will Timmy meet his mysterious distant cousins? Will they take him in? Will we ever find out where Timmy got his injuries? Will he ever see Chester and AJ again?
Find out in the (hopefully) next chapter! (If I ever write it...) *fingers crossed *
Well, like it? Hate it? Not yer cup of coffee? Leave a review if you want! I'm not picky!
Hey, that rhymed!
Welp, until next time my fine, furry friends! -JAF logging out!