Author's Note: Six years ago, I penned a story called "The Other Saga". A few years ago, I started writing A Lorenzo Christmas because I missed Lorenzo/The Other. It started and stopped because I haven't been obsessed with FOP since 2006. It's been a long time.
I'd like to issue a few warnings. As always, TOS contains graphic violence, trigger warnings for self harm, and pedophilia. It is not recommended for the normal, child friendly FOP fan.
I strongly suggest you read TOS P1 and P2 before reading this, with emphasis on P2 since A Lorenzo Christmas transpires between P2 and P3.
One last thing- this story predates Poof. Due to continuity problems between the current FOP episodes and my established canon, Poof will not appear. Sorry.
A Lorenzo Christmas
Chapter One: Solitude and Dying Embers
The fire beckoned, its dying embers calling to Lorenzo DeMedici as he swirled the remnants of a very good, rather old bottle of wine. Grimacing, he finished the last drop. It might have been excellent wine, but he disliked drinking. It weakened the faculties and darkness knew he needed his wits about him. Besides, intoxication was for the weak. Lorenzo DeMedici was not weak.
He longed for his sire and it was precisely this desire that caused him to grasp the armchair tightly. Placing his wine glass on the coffee table, he stared into the fire. Its hypnotic crackling implored him to remain indoors. 'Why bother with the outside?' it appeared to say. 'It's warm here. You're safe. You won't have to deal with the frach.'
Lorenzo's eyes narrowed at the mere mention of Wanda. Thinking about her induced the strong desire to snap her neck. Oh, he'd come so close to achieving his ultimate objective and depriving Timmy of his faeries for good. How dare Timmy's real parents intercede and rescue their child. How dare they relinquish their afterlife, albeit confined to ghostly forms, in order to restore 'order'.
What was 'order', anyway, but a term designated by the weak at heart? Lorenzo was neither weak nor impetuous. He differed from his precious sire in this regard, too. Timmy had succumbed to his desire for Tootie and permitted love to obliterate his senses. Lorenzo permitted love to extenuate and enunciate his experiences, but not to lay siege to him. He would not capitulate to its desires.
And, despite the growing headache, he poured himself another glass of wine. The false warmth mollified him. He didn't need Timmy. He neither needed nor brooked companionship.
Yet as his fingers grasped the cool edges of the glass and caressed their sides, Lorenzo thought, mind in a haze, that perhaps companionship had its merits. At least, where Timmy was concerned. In terms of Wanda and Cosmo, well, unless those faeries were crammed into his stocking for Christmas or hanging on the ceiling like mistletoe, he had no use for them.
Hmm. Christmas. The holiday curved the anti faerie's lips into a smile. He wondered what Timmy was doing at the moment to celebrate, if anything at all. What did the child have to celebrate? His liberation from Lorenzo? That was a shallow, lucky victory. Lorenzo would not afford him another.
His fingers clutched the thin neck of the wine glass and he sipped. Merry Christmas, Timmy Turner.
Timmy, rather than ask Cosmo and Wanda to help him decorate the tree, had propped himself up using Tootie to pin the star atop. Cosmo and Wanda watched from a safe distance away. Wanda claimed they were supervising, but Timmy was not fooled by such a weak defense. He knew Cosmo loathed him. Or, if not that, distrusted him. In either case, Timmy had a better chance wishing for the moon from a shooting star than receiving even the simplest wish from Cosmo. Ironic, considering they were his faerie godparents, existing here for him.
"Why can't you use a ladder like a normal person?" Tootie teased. She was reserved around him, but far more accepting than either of his surrogate parents. She understood the compulsion to be led astray and the temptation of unleashing inner demons. She had, after all, lived with Vicky. While no one really comprehended what Timmy had gone through, Tootie tried. She did. He had to give her credit. She was doing much better than Cosmo and Wanda, neither of whom attempted much of anything.
Unless you count the nights when I awake and swear arms are around me. Had Wanda deigned to become the absent faerie, a phantom in the night? Was it because of Lorenzo's prior influence? Well, of course. There was no doubt. And Timmy wouldn't force the issue of trust, because he'd done nothing to re-earn it.
"Hello? Earth to Timmy!" Tootie waved a hand in front of his face and Timmy blinked. He smiled weakly, eyes flicking to Cosmo and Wanda. Wanda sat up, reading a book, and Cosmo lay with his head on her lap. She absently stroked his green locks and Cosmo smiled, contented.
"What?" Timmy said, blinking, and regarded her. Cosmo snorted, occupied by nothing and therefore free to condemn Timmy to his heart's content. Timmy bristled and forced himself back to the here and now. If he daydreamed, Cosmo called him on it. If he slipped up once, just once, Cosmo noticed and slammed him down. He hadn't even wanted him to move back into his old house.
"Oh, sorry," Timmy continued. How often had he uttered that word since his return? Yet it never had an impact. Cosmo would turn his head and Wanda's beautiful pink eyes would shimmer like she considered accepting it, but sided with her husband.
"You should be," Cosmo snapped and Wanda sighed. Plucking a bookmark out of her bun where she'd stored it, she marked her place in the book and laid it aside gently.
((Cosmo, please.))
((What?))
((Can't we have a nice, pleasant Christmas without you throwing barbed insults at Timmy every five minutes?))
((Sure, if we can erase Halloween and the months he spent trying to kill us.))
Wanda sighed and Timmy studied her. Naturally, he hadn't been privy to her conversation, but through Cosmo's and Wanda's expressions, he gathered the gist of it. He wasn't utterly hopeless in the brains department. Plus, the way Cosmo insulted him lately, it wasn't hard to detect what was on his mind. One of the few things that reached cognizance.
"Merry Christmas to you too, Cosmo," Timmy muttered and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He stood apart from the tree to admire it and grinned weakly at Tootie. She matched his grin and examined the tree from all angles. Once finished, she flashed him the 'thumbs up' and bounced on the balls of her feet.
"Can almost murderers have a Merry Christmas?" Cosmo replied and Timmy's eyes narrowed. However, Cosmo meant nothing malicious by it. He was merely asking a question. Wanda sighed, exasperated. She wasn't going to force Cosmo to forgive Timmy when she hadn't herself. Forgiveness would take time. Hopefully, Lorenzo wouldn't thrust them into another situation that would rob them of that precious gift.
Hours later, after Lorenzo's fog had descended and claimed him, he distinguished a faint knocking on the door. Not his private library door, mind you, but the front door. Were he in better straits, he would have considered it queer indeed that someone had reached his door at all. The mansion's barriers ought to repel those unwanted and, in terms of general humanity and faerie kind, everyone with the exception of Timmy Turner was unwanted.
Lorenzo straightened in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He knew he ought to investigate the matter and exterminate whoever dared intrude on his solitude. Yet, simultaneously, his limbs and the fire clamored for him to languish. The fire was warm and he was so very weary. He wanted to sleep and escape his failures.
The knocking grew more insistent and Lorenzo's eyes narrowed. Something should be done about his pesky visitors. Unfortunately, he lacked the capacity at the moment to deal with whoever it was in the way to which they were best suited. The alcohol had permeated his brain and clouded his senses.
There should be a spell to rid myself of this wretched after effect... Lorenzo thought and groped for the button amplifying his front door's speakers. Guests were to announce themselves and he would be able to rid himself of them. In theory, the alert system served its former master better, whoever had added it, but right now, with him currently incapacitated, he had no desire to deal with whoever it was face to face.
"Yes? Who do you think you are?" Lorenzo mentally cursed. He'd slurred. Nonetheless, part of him didn't care. His eyelids were so heavy. Let whomever it was wreak havoc...let him sleep...
No!
Lorenzo bolted upright, stunned at the apathy in his prior thoughts. He slapped himself in the face and concentrated. Timmy hadn't completely severed his tie with him; Cosmo and Wanda hadn't taught him how to do that. Through their link, he transferred his inebriation to his sire and placed his hands on his knees. The room cleared and the power his drinks had held dissipated. He was sober again.
Rising to his feet, he crossed the library in several quick, long paces. Opening the door, he swept through the corridors and, in time, would arrive at the front door.
Timmy suddenly stumbled and careened into the floor. Cosmo snickered and Tootie rushed to her beloved's aid. Wanda, meanwhile, hung back and studied Timmy. His blue eyes were glazed over again and she glanced away. She didn't want to believe he was up to his old tricks and communicating with Lorenzo, but Cosmo could be right. Timmy had already tried to kill them once before. As they said, history repeated itself. And Cosmo and Wanda had lived through enough history to know.
"What's wrong?" Tootie demanded and fixed Cosmo a stern look. Cosmo shrugged and twirled his wand. He could help. But he wouldn't. Tootie hissed, shaking her head, and guided Timmy to his feet.
"I dunno," Timmy slurred and leaned against her. He stared not at her, but through her. Tootie shivered.
"I feel like I've been drinking...but I haven't..." At least, this was what he tried to communicate to her. Whether or not it sounded like that once it reached his mouth was another story. His brain and mouth possessed a tenuous connection that twanged like a guitar string. He swayed on his feet again and Tootie clutched him tighter.
"The Other?" Wanda said and Cosmo shot her a dirty look. She shot him one back and cautiously approached Timmy. Timmy retreated and she blinked. Well, that was unexpected. Then again, drinking reduced inhibitions. Even if it had been Lorenzo drinking and not Timmy, if Lorenzo had transferred the effects, then Timmy would be the one suffering.
Timmy nodded in response to Wanda's question and nearly fell again. Tootie grasped him and, gnawing her lip, decided to help him up the stairs and to his room. Cosmo watched, scoffing, and Wanda hesitated. Her split loyalties prevented her from jumping to Timmy's side and her own fear held her back.
"The Other made you drunk?" Tootie said, bewildered. She didn't understand how that could work, but Timmy nodded. He tripped up the stairs and Tootie sighed, cradling him. Her fingers slipped through his chocolate brown hair and she stroked it gently. He turned his head toward her and flashed her a grateful smile.
"How?"
While the two humans traversed the stairs, Cosmo and Wanda floated behind. Wanda paused and then upheld her wand. Timmy and Tootie froze; the raven haired girl spun to glance at Wanda. The pink haired faerie's hand trembled and, under Cosmo's gaze, she quailed, but she spoke regardless.
"I think I know," she spoke quietly. Cosmo cocked an eyebrow at her and she drew a deep breath before continuing.
"The Other and Timmy still share a bond because Timmy sired him," she began tentatively and Tootie nodded curtly, imploring her to continue. Wanda's eyes fell upon Timmy and she swallowed hard. It was so difficult to be in close quarters with him ever since he'd joined Lorenzo's ranks and then departed.
"The Other transferred his energy to Timmy for whatever reason..." she trailed off as the truth dawned on Cosmo and he laughed. Wanda stared, bemused, and he smirked at her.
"The Other got drunk!" he said and Tootie glared at him.
"And now Timmy's paying the price," Tootie snapped and Timmy hiccupped.
"So?" Cosmo's laughter earned him dirty looks from the two females. Wanda sighed, prodding Cosmo with her wand to silence him. He suppressed a few giggles; Tootie rolled her eyes.
"The question is," Wanda said, "how much did The Other drink?"