Author's Note: This won't make sense if you haven't read the first. Go read it.

The Other Saga Part Two: Reawakening

Chapter One: Return to Reality

For days, The Other wandered around in a daze, names and places seemingly drifting into his mind from nowhere. He couldn't articulate who he was, how he came to be, or why the names "Cosmo and Wanda", and "Tootie" filled him with such fury. Nor could he explain why things levitated when he slept or even something simple like where he was.

This was all to change very soon.

Tootie slept poorly. Filled with visions of people she knew yet were so different, her dreams were random assortments of images with one single string that bound them together. A key and The Other.

Timmy Turner, on the other hand, slept rather well despite the frequent interruptions of a terrified Tootie running to his bed. Finally, he had to coax Cosmo and Wanda out of slumber to magically lock the door. Too sleepy to care any more, he slipped back asleep, remembering nothing of her dreams. Perhaps he should have paid a bit more attention.

Vicky couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning, she flopped about on her hard mattress until she gave up. Resting her eyes on the ceiling, she relived The Other's brutal rape over and over again. Another sleepless night, another night with his face in her dreams.

Cal detested working in the nighttime. Not only did it distance him from his godchild, he missed the slumber. Still, somehow, money was needed to pay for their mortgages and such since counterfeiting was illegal (and one couldn't wish away mortgages, it was against Da Rules). They could magic it down to a buck a year but they required that revenue.

As a human in his janitorial suit, Cal leaned against the wooden mop, his long brown hair drooping over his eyes. If only he could sleep…

Safe in their tree house, Cosmo and Wanda slept in each others' arms, nestled together in that cozy little knit known only for lovers. At last, they could sleep soundly and securely without fear of Timmy awakening them in the night (only once tonight!). Also, this privacy led to some other pleasant developments since a kid within a foot of their bed severely dampened any romantic mood.

This might have been all nice and dandy were it not for the fact Wanda was haunted by nightmares, visions of other tactics The Other might have taken. Unlike Vicky, she hadn't been violated, but his sneering face was there all the same. Images of Timmy shot in the head and Cosmo brutally beaten, whipped through her mind like a snake.

Pressing her face into Cosmo's bare chest, she prayed to whoever might be listening for an end to this uncertainty. Whatever storm might be brewing, it was preferable to know it instead of fearing it ignorantly. Even with Cosmo's arms wrapped firmly about her waist, she was not consoled. Some men were strong, hers was not.

Memories of his past bravery only served to remind her of the imbalance of their intellect. If indeed The Other plotted revenge, she and Cosmo would be one of the top on his list, if not the top. And, if something were to happen to her; Cosmo, her godchild, and Tootie would be in dire straits indeed. She shuddered to think of a plan to overtake The Other if constructed by Cosmo.

It was going to be a long night…

Morning dawned bright and early for all animals and humans. Dogs barked, begging to frolic in the sun. Cats clawed at the doors and mewed their desires much to the disgust of their disgruntled owners. A single rooster on Timmy Turner's chimney crowed softly and promptly fell asleep again.

Timmy Turner held an arm up over his head, trying in vain to obscure the sun's rays. Squinting, he waited for the red spots to vanish and for his vision to be restored. Somebody had left his curtains open. In an instant, he recalled who.

"Tootie!" Timmy muttered. The night's events flooded back, including an extremely paranoid Tootie who was fearful The Other would rush into the tree house and murder Cosmo and Wanda while they slept. Not to say that her theories were unsubstantiated, they were just a little absurd for three in the morning. Or maybe his brain just refused to function, and anything sounded absurd for three in the morning.

Pink and green faerie dust precluded Cosmo and Wanda's arrival, informing Timmy that his fairy godparents had not been assassinated in their sleep. They were perfectly fine, ignoring the bags under Wanda's eyes. True, it would have been bizarre if he awoke and found them absent. Still, even if they were missing, it didn't mean they were dead, just perhaps sleeping in for once. He refused to let Tootie's paranoia infect him.

"Hey, Timmy!" Cosmo called with a huge grin.

"You're in a good mood," Timmy said, grinning as well. Grins were infectious and, in this house, short lived.

Wanda did not share in their sentiment. On the contrary, her mouth was pulled in a tight frown. Arms folded, she stared at them. Timmy felt sweat trickle down his neck. The last time Wanda looked at him like that, he'd done something horribly wrong. The trouble was, he couldn't for the life of him remember what.

"What's the matter, sugarplum?" He floated upside down. "Why's your smile upside down?"

Wanda sighed, sounding every year of her age, well over 10,000 years. "I didn't get any sleep."

From outside, Tootie banged on his door. "Neither did I! Timmy, why's the door locked?"

Weighing his options carefully, Timmy thought this through (and suppressed a groan). On one hand, he didn't want to deal with her this early before he could fully process her actions. On the other hand, Tootie was nothing if not persistent. Had he had a third hand, he would have also added the telepathy feature, combining to make Tootie harder to evade than ever.

((Timmy! How could you lock me out? What did I ever do to you?)) her mental voice whined and he cringed. It was like scraping the inside of his brain. He thought of Cosmo, who would have replied, "You have a brain?" He was too fatigued to be amused, and her mental shrieks were rubbing him the wrong way.

((You have your own room,)) he said, surly. ((Why don't you use it, for once?))

"Maybe you ought to let her in," Wanda said delicately.

"Yeah, she can't possibly strangle you with affection at seven a.m.!" Cosmo added and Wanda gave him a dirty look.

((I saved your life! Let me in!))

((Or what? You'll force your way...)) His thought trailed off. A loud crash shook the room and all three jumped. It sounded like something large and heavy had slammed into Timmy's door. Another loud crash ensued, followed by the door crashing into the wall. Tootie beamed from ear to ear, holding a large tree limb with brown eyes. Cal blinked at them.

Once the door no longer provided a problem, Carl vanished into thin air.

"Hi, Timmy!" Sauntering over to his bed, she plopped down next to him. "Thanks for locking me out!"

Avoiding her eyes, Timmy glanced over at Cosmo and Wanda instead. "Er, why are you up this early?"

"I had some bad dreams," Tootie murmured and cast her gaze at the bed sheets, plain pink (Timmy's parents had selected it for him and he didn't have the heart to discard them). She liked them, they were quirky like him. Too bad he didn't show that side of his nature any more.

Unexpectedly, she burrowed her head into Timmy's chest. "Involving you."

Blushing like a tomato, Timmy looked down at her. "Why are you doing that?"

((Timmy, I really need to talk to you.))

An electric shock ran through him and he jumped. God, he hadn't felt like this since The Other had first taken over his body. Pounding like a jack hammer, his heart beat triple its normal rate. The Other…

Glancing up at him with concern, Tootie sighed. Bags under her eyes as well, she had not a bit of her normal humor or happiness visible. In fact, she appeared to have aged fifty years in one night.

Swallowing hard, she hugged Timmy tightly and drew a deep breath. "I don't know how to tell you this…"

"Tell me what?"

Unbeknown to Tootie, Cosmo and Wanda had exchanged looks. Wanda, shaking her head at Cosmo, put a finger to her lips. Timmy stared at them out of the corner of his eyes, and sensed a conversational undercurrent, but Wanda didn't share and Timmy didn't ask. He hadn't realized just how many little conversations they had he wasn't privy to.

Before vanishing with their traditional poofs, Wanda informed Timmy of their decision, " Breakfast will be on the table." She spared a sidelong glance at Tootie, who was on the edge of hyperventilation.

"I saw your parents in my dreams."

"They're alive?" Timmy inquired hopefully.

"No," Tootie bit her lip so hard she brought forth blood. Timmy stared at her. He had thought his teeth were sharp.

"Timmy, I'm so sorry…" She truly was. Ever since his parent's funeral, all carefully avoided the subject of his parents. It didn't come up much but any passing comment about them would either be met by indifference or Timmy frantically bursting out the room.

"Then why tell me?" Timmy snapped as Tootie's eyes filled with tears. It took him back for a few seconds, to remind him Tootie was overly sensitive and not to berate her. Sometimes, girls were a pain. Wanda didn't cry nearly as often as Tootie. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time Wanda had cried.

"Nothing can bring them back. That isn't the point," she stated.

"I'm kinda hungry," Timmy said and tried to stand but Tootie shoved him back down again. He glared, growing irritated. How dare she push him around like that. Who did she think she was? He barely tolerated his godparents doing it, and they knew far better than him. Tootie was a year younger than him, for God's sake.

"Your parents were ghosts, but they weren't their own people, if that makes any sense. They were playing both sides," she sighed, exasperated. "I don't know how to make it clearer than that."

"My parents would never hurt me!" Especially not now. If they did return, I'm sure they'd be so happy to see me again they wouldn't leave my side much less put me in harm's way.

Tootie snorted derisively. "What about when your father tried to protect you from Francis and threw you into his car hood? Or how about when your parents discovered Vicky 'playing dungeon' and you could have been killed and they were more upset about their tape?"

"I get it. Don't worry," Timmy muttered. "I'll watch out." Irritation rose again. Not only was she telling him what to do, she was telling him to avoid his parents and the second chance they offered. Who the hell did she think she was? Having a second chance at his parents was a thin hope bubble he hadn't dared to entertain until just now.

Frustrated, he pried her off of him and left the room. His door hung off its hinge and he sneered at it, stomping down the stairs. Cosmo and Wanda hadn't finished breakfast yet, which meant, for some unfathomable reason, they were making it the human way. He hoped Wanda didn't burn it. From everything Cosmo told her, she was horrible at human cooking.

Were his parents around as ghosts? Why hadn't they sought him out yet? Were Cosmo and Wanda in the way? Jorgen had told him Cosmo and Wanda were his acting legal guardians, but that wouldn't have anything to do with it, would it? Cosmo and Wanda shouldn't have to hide from ghosts.

That was assuming, of course, that Tootie's dream meant anything. He didn't have any hint it did. But, considering what had happened in the last few months, stranger things had taken place.

The Other grinned maliciously at his newly redecorated room. In terms of size, it was rather large for a single occupant. Pressed against the farthest wall was a large black four poster, with its curtains drawn accordingly. A few feet away from it, pressed up against the wall, was a large desk containing a state of the art desktop computer he had pilfered, a printer, pictures of Cosmo, Wanda, Tootie, and Timmy with corresponding 'x's over the faces, and a notebook. Inside the desk, he had all the office supplies he could snatch, and small tools of the trade. The desk ended a foot before the door, which marked the beginning of the left side of the room. He also had a number of books on shelves above the desk. The books contained old faerie magick, along with some anti faerie magick he had discovered in the last couple nights. He had heard rumors of an Anti Fairy World being built and a grin spread across his face. He couldn't wait.

Behind him, he had painted the dock windows black. He had a small heater, should he need it, another set of bookshelves, currently empty, and a dresser. Like the bookshelves, the dresser remained mostly empty. Overhead, he had a chandelier with sparkling black diamonds dangling from it. Three out of the four bulbs were lit. He'd have preferred candles, but electricity was more constant. It was facile to send power to the building, too, without alerting anyone. No one noticed someone siphoning off power if its sources were scattered.

Open in his lap was an old, brown, musty magic book (the edges of the pages were peeling) for raising the dead. He had retrieved it from the library which had a surprising amount of black magic literature. Since his mansion was actually compiled of an assortment of other houses, it probably had derived from a necromancer. He had no idea where all his room had come from, and, at the moment, he didn't care. There didn't seem to be an appalling amount of goodness pervading, so he wouldn't worry.

The house seemed undetectable to Fairy World, or perhaps they were ignoring him. He didn't care. Whatever the case, faeries were ignoring him and he was free to run this realm.

Coalescing into their insubstantial form, Mr. and Mrs. Turner floated in front of him. Remarkably, they didn't recognize him as the fast food attendant who had added enough propane to their gas tank, along with combustibles, to send them to an early grave. At the moment, they wore vacant expressions, but this was no measure of intellect. For all he knew, they had always looked this dense.

Never mind the witticisms. He had work to do.

"Hello, Mrs. and Mr. Turner," Lorenzo said, inclining his head. "It's good to see you again."

"Again?" Mr. Turner inquired. "Where did we go?"

"All I remember is darkness, followed by a bright light, and then we were here," Mrs. Turner said, staring at her husband. "I can see right through you."

"Hey, I can see through you too," Mr. Turner said. "Cool! I float now!"

"I'm glad you're amused," Lorenzo drawled. "Now, we have business to attend to."

"Ooh, does it involve walking through walls? I've always wanted to do that!" Mr. Turner exclaimed.

"It involves Timmy," The Other said and rolled his eyes.

"Ooh, Timmy! How is he?" Mrs. Turner asked. "It feels like forever since we've seen him."

"Oh, he's fine," The Other said and grinned from ear to ear. "You'll be seeing him very soon."