A/N: Had this idea the other day, and I figured I could adapt it into a oneshot. Sort of an alternate and extended ending to the episode 'The Odd Couple', where Vicky is significantly more affected by the breakup between her and Ricky. I'd call it a 'What-If', but I'm not a huge fan of that term, and it'll make my associate really salty.
"Well... I guess that could've gone... Worse..." Timmy collapsed backward onto his bed, letting out a tired-sounding sigh as he landed with a muffled thump, his eyes listlessly staring up at the deep blue ceiling of his bedroom.
Just an hour before, his babysitter, Vicky; had told him he was to clean the kitchen in its entirety, with the threat that if he didn't, she'd find something far worse for him to do. Now, to be fair, this wasn't particularly unusual. The sixteen year old girl generally forced him to clean something whenever she came over, but this time... It was different. There was a certain fire in her eyes that just didn't sit well with the brunet. It had been quite some time since Vicky had glared at him so angrily, with such malice, that it made his blood run cold. Had he not already known why she was so angry, he might've simply been under the assumption that she really did hate him with every fiber of her being.
But it wasn't hate... Or, it wasn't hate for him, anyway. Her real target was undoubtedly her boy- Ex-boyfriend, Ricky. Who had, just a few minutes before Vicky forced Timmy to clean the kitchen; dumped the red-head on the spot for his new soon-to-be wife, Dolores Day-Crocker, a supposedly rich, beautiful young woman whose money and assumed good looks had caused him to fall head over heels in love almost instantly.
Of course, what the unfortunate male teen didn't know was the fact that people on dating sites tended to lie. A lot. Dolores Day-Crocker was far from young, could only be called beautiful by a very small handful of people(those who were either blind, or her son, Denzel), and, while rich; tended to spend a great deal of her money on blood transfusions and prune juice, likely because she was a hypochondriac. Or insane. Possibly both.
Needless to say, Vicky did not take this sudden assassination of her relationship with her new boyfriend, by her new boyfriend, well. After she came to realize that she had no hope of catching up with the limousine that was carting the male red-head off to the nearest drive-thru chapel, she'd taken the course of action that anyone who knew what the girl was really like assumed she would: Blame Timmy, and torture Timmy. Oddly enough, this was one of the few times where it could be said that she was entirely justified in doing so, though she obviously didn't know this was the case.
At the time, his wish for Ricky had seemed like a sound one. With a boyfriend to devote her time to, the ten year old had hoped that his babysitter would in turn lighten up to some degree. After all, how could she possibly find time to torture him and force him to do chores if she was preoccupied with a boyfriend? Unfortunately for the brunet, what he hadn't counted on was Ricky being even worse than Vicky. The sixteen year old boy seemed to relish torturing him just as much, if not more than Vicky did. With Vicky and Ricky working in tandem like they were, his home life had gone from unpleasant to a literal constant nightmare, one he desperately wanted to wake up from.
With this in mind, he'd tried simply wishing the boy away, but with Cosmo and Wanda's magic being powerless against true love, this plan failed. The next one had been slightly more successful, as careful digging on his part revealed that the red-haired male didn't love Vicky at all, he was simply using her to get her money. Once he'd learned this, Timmy again tried wishing Ricky away, only to learn that Vicky, oblivious to how she was being used; really did love the greasy, shallow thief. The third attempt, which involved the previously mentioned internet dating site and a one Dolores Day-Crocker, actually managed to work, and Ricky was now more than likely tied to a bed in a cheap hotel's honeymoon suite somewhere.
So with that, he was right back where he started. His one and only babysitter Vicky, who he at the very least knew what to expect from, unlike the slightly more morally bankrupt Ricky.
"Rrgh...! So why do I feel... Bad?" What currently still troubled the teen was the look his babysitter had given him. There was hate there for sure, but... Something else too. An emotion he was sure Vicky was physically incapable of expressing... Hurt.
Poof!
The boy's ears perked up at the sound, soon followed by low footsteps to his right, and culminating with a pink cat hopping onto Timmy's chest and making itself comfortable as it laid down, staring into his eyes as he in turn looked up at it. "Gonna guess from that growl that something's wrong, right Timmy?" The cat tilted its head a little as it spoke in his fairy godmother's voice.
"Isn't there always something wrong?" Timmy sighed, then let his head drop back down onto his bed with a low 'thump' and closed his eyes.
"Good thing Wanda and I can grant your every wish!" A small, green mouse peeked it's head over cat-Wanda's, speaking in the voice of the boy's fairy godfather as it waved a tiny magic wand back and forth.
"I wish I knew why I feel bad..." The brunet muttered through pouted lips, not even realizing he'd made the wish until Cosmo's wand began to spark with magical power. There was another low 'poof' as the boy's wish was granted, and a small spark shot off the wand, colliding with his forehead harmlessly.
"Honey, I don't think Timmy actually meant for us to grant that one..." Wanda glanced up at her husband, now sitting atop her head; and spoke in an uncertain tone.
"Obviously he must've, Wanda! Why else would he say 'I wish I knew why I felt bad'? Clearly something that happened today is really bothering him, and as Timmy's godparents, it's our job to help him figure it out!" Cosmo replied happily, crossing his tiny arms over his chest and nodding as he finished.
"Well humans, much like us, occasionally say things they don't necessarily mean, and 'I wish' is one of the more commonly used beginnings of a sentence. Timmy was probably just thinking out loud, and happened to word those thoughts in such a way that it sounded like he was making a wish, while in reality-"
"But it's not even my fault that Ricky is... Just like Vicky..." Timmy facepalmed with both hands, realizing he very much was to blame for Ricky's demeanor, along with the sixteen year old's dumping of Vicky, and as such, the aforementioned red-head's foul mood. "Darn it! Why can't I make mistakes and not feel bad for making them?!"
"Probably because deep down, you're a good person." His fairy godparents spoke simultaneously, both shrugging their shoulders to the extent that their animal forms would allow.
"Timmy-" Wanda began. "You're only ten, so I understand that it might be hard to fully realize the effects your actions, and by extension, your wishes; can have on other people, but having Cosmo and myself in your life means that you've got quite a bit of power at your disposal through us. The issue with that, of course, is that one needs to be responsible with power, as actions have consequences... Honey, at some point, you're going to have to start taking responsibility for the wishes you make." Wanda finished in a somber tone, somewhat regretting that, as the voice of reason between her husband and their godchild, there were times where she had little choice but to derail Timmy's fun.
"She's right Timmy, with great fairy godparents comes great responsibility!" Cosmo spoke in his usual air-headed tone, nodding in agreement with his wife.
"Can't I just wish to not feel bad? This is Vicky we're talking about, I'm sure she'll get over it... Eventually..." Despite his attempt at reassurance, Timmy barely believed his own words, the way his babysitter's eyes had looked still haunting him.
"You sure about that, Timmy? Remember, we couldn't poof Ricky away because Vicky was in love with him. A fairy's magic can't interfere with true love, but there's nothing stopping us from breaking up assumed love, or even crushes, if the wish is worded properly. I'm not saying you didn't do both yourself-and her-a favor by finally getting rid of that brat, but whatever Vicky did feel for Ricky, that was real." Wanda at last poofed herself back into her fairy form, then quickly did the same to Cosmo, generally something she did when she wanted to get the seriousness of her point across to Timmy. "Yes, you could wish to not feel bad, but you can't undo the heartache that Vicky is feeling, and one way or another, that feeling of regret for what you did is going to come back to bother you again as well."
"Urgh...!" The brunet sat up in bed, then crossed his arms and scrunched up his face in a combination of annoyance and anger toward his own selfish actions. "So then what am I supposed to do? I certainly can't apologize to Vicky and explain that I wished her up a boyfriend so she'd stop torturing me! That'd just cause me to lose the two of you!"
"Well you could-" Wanda began, only to be cut off by Timmy as he interrupted her.
"And I know I can't just wish to not feel bad, but I don't like feeling this way in the first place! If she wasn't so evil all the time, I wouldn't have to make wishes like bringing Ricky here in the first place!" The ten year old shouted, running his right hand through his hair and knocking his pink hat off his head. "Even if I could explain the whole situation, I'm still the one who- Who caused it..." Timmy finished in a sorrowful tone and sighed heavily. "If she doesn't already hate me, she definitely will if I tell her I showed Ricky that dating site and basically convinced him to dump her..."
"Then don't." Wanda stated matter-of-factly, shrugging her shoulders.
"Huh? Then how am I supposed to-"
"You don't have to tell her that you're the one who brought Ricky here, nor that you had a hand in him breaking up with her. You may think Vicky is just your evil babysitter, but it might surprise you to know that there are very few people in this, and many other worlds, who are inherently evil. Think about those times when Trixie rejected you, or when Francis bullied you. It hurt, didn't it?" The pinkette asked as her green-haired counterpart seemed to drift off into his own little world, making faces at himself in the reflection of their fishbowl.
"Well yeah, but Trixie turning me down... It kinda makes my chest hurt a little. Francis... Just tends to make wherever he hits me hurt... Where exactly are we going with this, Wanda?" Timmy shot his godmother a look of confusion.
"See Sweetie, those two feelings of pain, emotional and physical; both can-and have-made you lash out at your friends, your parents, and even Cosmo and I. Pain can make you do mean, horrible things, even if you don't mean them; just in an effort to try to force you to forget about the memories of those painful things."
"Okay...?" The ten year old nodded in understanding, but still raised an eyebrow at the pink-haired fairy. "I know I've... Lost my temper a few times... Heck, that's probably why I wished for Ricky in the first place, because I was mad about how Vicky treats me..." Again, Timmy felt a twinge of pain in his chest, not unlike the feeling he got when Trixie shot him down, yet it was somehow... Different, as well.
"So with that in mind, think about Vicky for a sec. Her relationship with her own family is strained at best, she has few, if any friends; and finally, there's one other thing you have that she lacks..." Reaching over to Cosmo, Wanda pulled him over to float next to her. "If you were in Vicky's shoes, no godparents, and the person you thought you loved just dumped you like you were yesterday's trash, would you have reacted differently than she did?"
"Yea- Well... Maybe not- No, I guess... Ugh! I don't know!" Timmy again dropped backward onto his bed with an annoyed huff, arms splayed out at his sides. "Are you trying to make me feel bad, Wanda? 'Cuz I already do, really don't need your help in that department..." The boy's voice dropped to a mutter as he finished, hoping to avoid prolonging his godmother's lecture.
"Well then why not go downstairs and see if Vicky's alright? She may not be your favorite person to be around, but I'm willing to bet that she could use a friend right about now, even if she'd probably never admit it."
Timmy looked up in shock, not due to the implications of the words themselves, but rather at the fact that it had been Cosmo, not Wanda, who'd said them. "Are you... Feeling alright Cosmo?"
"Well I'm certainly not feeling all-left, Timmy!" The green-haired fairy chuckled. "Every now and then I have a moment of clarity-Ooh! A dust kitty!" Cosmo cut off his own sentence and dove under his godchild's bed, leaving Timmy and Wanda to gaze in wonderment at where the fairy had been just a moment before.
Shaking her head at her husband's odd, yet not unexpected behavior, Wanda turned her attention back toward Timmy. "At any rate, Cosmo's right. If you were telling the truth all those times you told me you'd hoped you and Vicky could be friends back when you first met her, now's the time." She began to sink downward, eventually coming to a stop just a few inches off the ground so she could look under Timmy's bed. "I know I obviously can't make you go down there and talk to her, but... I think you might be the only person who can, Timmy."
With that, the pinkette fairy followed after her husband and disappeared under Timmy's bed, leaving him alone with his thoughts. "Th-That's coercive! ...I think..." With a groan, the ten year old sat up straight, then hopped off his bed and pulled the door to his room back open.
Peeking his head out into the hallway, the brunet looked to the right, toward his parents' bedroom and the bathroom, then to the left, where the stairs were. He could see the faint light from the TV in the living room shining on the wall, but other than that, the house was fairly dark, due to it being a little after six, and the sun beginning to set. Dark, and... Quiet. Aside from the low sounds of what he assumed was a commercial coming from the TV in the living room, the house was silent, almost uncomfortably so.
Exhaling nervously, Timmy slipped out of his room, making sure not to shut the door completely, and hesitantly tiptoed over to the stairway, pausing at the top. "Darn it- I got away! Vicky let me go already! Why am I-... Rrgh..." He whispered to himself harshly, animatedly swinging his arms about and quietly pacing at the top of the stairs. "Maybe if I'm lucky, she'll only almost kill me..." Resigning himself to his fate, the brunet silently descended the stairs, pausing on each step to see if his modest weight made it creak. As he came to the halfway point, Timmy glanced to his right, into the living room, finding that it, like the rest of the house, was dark. The curtains had been drawn, the door separating the living room and kitchen was shut, and none of the lights were on.
A few more agonizingly slow steps, and his feet touched down onto the living room floor at last. A cautious, slow look around the room revealed that, aside from the gloomy darkness, intermittently broken by a bright flash from the TV; it wasn't any different from the living room he was so used to. Everything was right where it was supposed to be, none of the furniture was displaced, nothing appeared to be broken, the blanket-shrouded figure was still on the couch-
Wait.
"Vicky?" Timmy tried to speak, only for his voice to fail him, causing him to simply mouth the girl's name silently.
Sitting on the couch, much as the brunet could tell, anyway; was his babysitter, wrapped from head to toe in a thick comforter, with a small opening for her face, giving her the appearance of wearing some sort of large, hooded robe. One that allowed just a small lock of her fiery red hair to poke out. And whether it was because the blanket's position impeded her vision, or if she was merely too engrossed in the movie she was watching, it seemed the red-head had yet to notice her charge standing mere feet away.
"Vi-" Timmy opened his mouth again, this time successfully finding his voice, only to be interrupted and caught off guard by a loud and congested-sounding sniffle that emanated from the blanket-hood's opening. Shortly after falling silent, the figure he assumed to be his babysitter shifted under the blanket, bringing her arm up to presumably wipe at her nose.
Remembering that the older girl hadn't shown any signs of being sick less than an hour earlier, Timmy raised an intrigued eyebrow at the sight before him, almost unwilling to believe that he was really seeing it. "She-She's... Crying?" He mentally questioned, his own thoughts sounding foreign in his mind.
Might this person on his couch not be Vicky after all? He knew Wanda had been at least... Partially right. The red-head probably wasn't inherently evil, but she certainly embraced the attitude of someone who was, that was unquestionable. And yet... A wholly evil person would have done far worse to him by now, wouldn't they have? Ricky certainly had no qualms about making him miserable, even going so far as to try and backhand Timmy, though he'd been quick enough to duck the attack and run upstairs to his room.
Even Vicky, bad as Timmy believed her to be, had never tried to hit him... But actually crying? Could she really have cared about Ricky that much? Or at the very least, thought she did?
The brunet looked over his shoulder, back toward the stairs he'd just descended, and seriously considered sneaking back up them and returning to his room. He felt more than just regret for breaking the two evil red-heads up now, he felt genuine sorrow for the hand he played in actually hurting Vicky.
And seeing her like this? Sniffling in the dark like a lost, lonely little girl? ...It felt wrong. Vicky always seemed to have this unflinching, confident air about her, like nothing could really scare her, hurt her, or ever make her appear... Like she did now. Alone, sad... Maybe even weak. Suddenly, Timmy found himself mentally wishing that he could have yesterday's Vicky back, when, despite her mistreatment of him; she was at least happy.
Turning his attention back to the sixteen year old sitting at the far-end of the couch, the buck-toothed boy's eyes darted back and forth between her, and the television, waiting for it to darken during a lull in the unknown movie's action scenes. "Oh I'm so gonna regret this..." Timmy whispered to himself just as one of the previously mentioned scenes darkened the living room, and he quietly snuck a few steps closer to his babysitter, stopping right by the arm of the couch he was closest to. Just as he did, however; the floorboards beneath him creaked in protest.
In response, the hooded figure instantly turned her head toward the noise, briefly glancing to the left and right in the direction it had come from, before lowering her gaze downward, the gaping blackness of the hood's interior meeting Timmy's ocean-blue eyes. "T-Twerp?"
The voice, though hoarse from disuse and shaking with what the boy could only assume was misery; was still unmistakeably that of his babysitter, Vicky. And while he still couldn't quite make out her face, there was no doubt in his mind that she'd been crying. A lot.
"Erm... H-Hey Vicky..." Timmy raised his hand in the air, opening it and splaying his fingers out in an awkward wave.
"...What do you want?" The red-head spat out venomously, her surprise at the boy's presence giving way to anger at the boy's presence. He was not supposed to see her like this. A literal wreck, curled up on the couch and crying her eyes out like... Like some little girl! "Didn't I tell you to go upstairs and stay there, Twerp?"
"You did, but..." Timmy shrank back a little at his babysitter's hostile tone, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "H-How um... How are you doing?"
"How am I- Kid, what the Hell do you want?!" She yelled at him, throwing the hood formed by the blanket off her head, revealing just how much of a mess she currently was. Aside from her red hair sticking up in random places due to the static from the blanket, her cheeks were red and stained with tear streaks, her nose was a similar color, likely from her wiping at it so many times, and her eyes, while still a bit wet with tears; were bloodshot. And glaring right at Timmy. "When I told you stay upstairs, was I somehow not clear?!" She gritted her teeth as she finished, quickly wiping away a stray tear as it slipped down her cheek. "Maybe the way I look will clue you in! I want. To be left. Alone." Vicky wiped at her eyes again, this time more roughly as she felt that familiar prickling at their corners. "...Or did you really just come down here so you could see how miserable I am? You wanted to see your evil babysitter cry? Is that it?!" She nearly shrieked at the boy as she finished, making her voice crack, and Timmy visibly flinch at her verbal assault.
"N-No! I only-" The brunet sighed, quickly realizing he had an uphill battle ahead of him. "I came down because... Because I wanted to... To make sure you're okay...?" He took a single, cautious step forward, moving past the arm of the couch so he was next to the cushion; his thought process being that, if he could at least make it onto the couch and sit down, then Vicky might let him make some sad attempt to... "What did Wanda call it? Be 'there' for her?" Even then, he had a feeling it would be a longshot at best.
Yet, to Timmy's surprise, Vicky's infuriated expression softened by the slightest amount, becoming more indifferent than angry. "Tch, like you really care how I'm doing. If you're gonna lie to my face, you could at least try to make it convincing." She turned away from him, opting to try and once again become lost in the movie she was watching. "Fess up Twerp, the only reason you came down here is because you want to try and get on my good side while I'm feeling like shit, right? Well here's a tip: I don't have a good side, so just lea-" The girl bit her tongue at the last second, cutting her sentence short. "Why? Why don't I want him to leave now?!" She glanced at the boy out of the corner of her eye, taking another moment to wonder what exactly it was that he wanted.
"That's- It isn't all of it..." Timmy replied sheepishly, letting his gaze drift off his babysitter and over to the TV in an attempt to figure out what she was watching. "And... If I didn't care, why would I have asked in the first place?"
"Like I said, damage control. You're either trying to apologize for doing something wrong, or you're trying to kiss up to me because I just got dumped." The red-head answered coldly, facing straight ahead at the TV, though she continued to watch Timmy out of the corner of her eye.
"Well, for one, I didn't do anything wrong. Your stupid boyfriend did." He again looked over at Vicky, noticing the somewhat puffy bags under her eyes in the light given off by the television. "...And two, I'm not kissing up, you just... Look sad."
"Hmph. Yeah, that's one word for how I'm feeling..." Turning her head to make eye contact with the brunet again, Vicky frowned and raised an eyebrow in curiosity at him. "And just what makes you think you can call my ex-boyfriend stupid?"
Despite the annoyed edge in her tone, Timmy didn't shrink back this time. "I think you just answered your own question."
"Huh?" She questioned, the annoyance in her voice fading to fall more in line with her confused expression.
"Ricky dumped you for my teacher's super-old mom." The boy shrugged, mentally hoping he wouldn't strike a nerve by saying the wrong thing. "Sounds pretty stupid to me."
Vicky, briefly taken aback by her charge's statement, made a small noise in her throat that sounded eerily similar to a chuckle. "Suppose that's as close to a compliment as I can expect from you... But honestly, is he the idiot for leaving me, or am I the idiot for falling for him?" She pulled her legs up to her chest, then looped her arms around them and rested her chin on her knees. "I should've known it was too good to be true... When have I ever deserved something like love...?" She muttered into the blanket, giving up on attempting to look strong in front of Timmy. "How could I have been stupid enough to think it was love..."
"...You mind if I sit down?" The brunet dipped his head low to meet Vicky's pink eyes, which only earned him another confused stare, before she promptly looked away, subconsciously still trying to hide her pitiful appearance.
"If you want, I guess... Not like I can really stop you, since you don't want to listen to me..." She continued to watch Timmy as he plopped down on the far side of the couch, then slid backward into the cushion behind him, his feet not quite reaching the floor due to his relatively small stature.
"So." "So?" Both spoke simultaneously, cutting the other off as they did, and reacting in turn, with Vicky rolling her eyes in mild annoyance, while Timmy blushed, then twiddled his thumbs. "You first-" "Go ahead-" Again, they tried to speak, only to pause to let the other speak.
"Hah..." Vicky sighed and shifted about slightly, steadily growing more annoyed with their unintentional game. "We're not gonna get anywhere at this rate, Twerp-"
"Are you doing okay-... Um..." Timmy paused yet again, this time to think over his question. "Do you... Wanna talk about it? It... Might help...?"
"Pfft... What's to talk about? Ricky dumped me for someone he thought was richer and prettier, and if that wasn't enough, he stole most of my money that I saved up from babysitting..." Another stray tear slipped down the red-head's cheek, only to be ignored. She knew that Timmy was aware of her tears; there wasn't much point in hiding them now.
"He did?" The brunet asked in faked surprise, knowing full well that Ricky was a thief, though he wasn't aware that the male teen had stolen as much as Vicky claimed he did. "That's... Jeez, I didn't know he was stealing from you..."
"Well he was. Cleaned out my bank account, the money I had stashed in my room, and even what was in my wallet. Only money he didn't get was the fifty I keep behind my license." Vicky spoke in a bitter tone as she hugged her knees a little closer.
"Isn't... Isn't it better that he's gone then? I mean, if he was lying to you and stealing from you..." Timmy asked, still pretty confused as to why his babysitter was apparently so torn up about Ricky leaving. Even she knew now that he was just using her for her money... "So why does she... Miss him?" "Can't you... I dunno, just ask my parents for more money to babysit me? I'm sure they can afford it... Or... I could-"
"Damnit, Timmy! It isn't about the money!" Vicky snapped at the brunet angrily, glaring daggers into his eyes. "I knew he was partially using me for my money, alright?! It was never about the money..." Her voice cracked as she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears again. "I shouldn't have been so stupid! I thought he... He told me I was pretty, the 'most beautiful girl he'd ever met'. He made me feel... Special. Loved... And it was all just a con! No different than the things I do!" She covered her face with both hands, lightly digging her nails into her skin.
The brunet looked down at his hands as his once strong, proud babysitter broke down into tears, choking back a sob every now and then. He'd always wondered to himself if the girl had a softer side to her, one that wasn't so mean and antagonistic toward him, but...
But this wasn't what he'd wanted. He wanted a nicer Vicky, not a broken one. Seeing her like this, he actually felt a brief, physical pain, best compared to a needle in his heart. His right hand moved unconsciously toward his babysitter, just barely hovering over one of her knees, before his common sense kicked in and he stopped his hand, then hesitantly pulled it away, allowing it to settle back on his lap. "I don't know if... It'll really help, but... I'm sorry that Ricky was... Like that. But now that you know what he's like... Isn't it better that he's gone? Now you-"
"How is it better?!" She asked in a loud, anguished tone, uncovering her face and revealing the small streams of tears running down her cheeks. "You think I want to be alone for the rest of my life?! You think I like not having anyone who cares about me like Ric- Like I thought he did?! I can't even talk to anyone about it, because my parents are terrified of me, and Tootie- ...She should hate me..." The red-head again sniffed loudly, then wiped her running nose. "I thought I found the one person who was special, someone who liked me for me; someone I didn't have to... Pretend around... But no. Now I'm alone, again-?" Vicky stopped rather suddenly, feeling a light pressure on her knee, and looked up to find Timmy's bright blue eyes staring back at her, now much closer than they'd been a few moments prior. "What are you-"
Positioned on one hand and his knees just to the girl's left, Timmy quickly glanced away as he felt a mild barely noticeable warm sensation in his cheeks. "I think you- N-Now that Ricky's gone, I mean- You're... Better off without him. He's a jerk, and- Argh... Vicky, I wish... I knew what to say..." As Timmy finished, he heard a low poofing sound echo down from the second floor of the house, though it seemed to go unnoticed by the red-head he shared the couch with. "I... I know you'd probably have just about anyone else, but... I'm here...?" He turned to face the older girl again, meeting her blurry, tear-filled eyes with a small smile.
The red-head stared at him in silence for a few seconds, tilting her head a little as she seriously considered the boy's words, and tried to decipher the look he was giving her. It wasn't one she was accustomed to getting from anyone, let alone Timmy, the Twerp she tortured the most. Her first assumption had been confidence, but that look was familiar; her Twerp had shown plenty of confidence numerous times before today, when he'd tried to stand up to her, thinking the chores she gave him were unfair...
A lightbulb turned on in the girl's mind as she realized what it was, the look he was giving her. Yes, it was somewhat confident, but it was... Hopeful. Enough that the weight on her broken heart felt as though the slightest bit had been lifted off of it.
He was trying to reassure her.
For all the times she'd been cruel to this boy; tortured him, berated him, yelled at him, forced him to clean his own house, even when it didn't need it... Everything she'd done, and he was still big-hearted enough, still kind enough, to be there for her when it felt like no one else was.
She met his shy little smile with her one of her own: A crooked, mildly shaky one that looked as though it would break and turn back into a sorrowful frown in an instant, but a smile nonetheless. "...You are..." Surprising both herself and the brunet, Vicky slid her legs forward and off the couch, and at the same time, grabbed Timmy and pulled him into her lap, then looped her arms around his smaller form, hugging him close as the comforter she was wrapped in covered them both. "Thank you. ...I mean it."
Once he'd gotten over the shock of being hugged by the last person he'd ever expect to get a hug from on the planet, Timmy relaxed, awkwardly looping his right arm around the older girl's torso. "You're... You're welcome..." A dusting of pink, deeper in color than before, covered his cheeks as he felt the girl's chin settle onto the top of his head, which currently rested forehead first against her upper chest, just below her neck.
So maybe this little moment wouldn't mean anything come morning, or even in a few minutes, if he was really unlucky. For now, their checkered past didn't seem to matter. Vicky felt like her heart had been broken, and he was determined to at least try to fix it, he owed her that much.
And there was one more surprising thing Timmy learned about his 'evil' babysitter that day as her arms tightened around him just a little. "Vicky gives really nice hugs."