Author's Note: I swear I did not intend to wait this long to update this fanfic. I had the urge today, so I wrote it. Also, I wanted to throw Chloe in here. She's there…if you squint. And no, Cosmo and Wanda are not her fairies.
Also, I have to give Blue credit because the whole idea of Vicky going after Timmy in that specific manner was derived from his Raven Tootie idea.
Chapter Fourteen: Two Years Later…
It felt like it'd been two years since she'd stepped foot inside a classroom. Deborvak was healing, but their relationship remained fractured. He'd told her everything he could about his life in Tyrocka and what it entailed, but she wasn't sure she was ready to forgive him just yet. She still wanted to know what Vicky had done that was so bad it merited Cosmo, Wanda, and Jorgen being on high alert. No one would tell her.
When she took her place in the back, she glowered at Deborvak, disguised as a pencil.
"You're not keeping anything else from me, are you?" she warned.
"Tootie, my love, I don't have the strength to," he said. "I'm here for you full time from now on. No more tricks, no more deferring to my mistress, nothing."
She huffed and looked at Magdalene, disguised as a notebook. Magdalene looked uneasy too, albeit for a different reason. She didn't have time to scrutinize her relative's expression, however, because a new face strolled in. She blinked, wondering whether Crocker had accidentally gone into the wrong classroom and switched out with someone.
"Hello," the man said. He had brown hair, mud-colored eyes that were almost black, and she thought she distinguished a faint crown above his head. When she looked closer, however, she spied nothing. He was tall, lithe, and when he smiled, it crinkled his eyes. The aura he projected was kind and confident, much different from Mr. Crocker.
Timmy, slumped in the front, straightened up to take notice.
"Hello," the man said. "My name is Mr. Schade and I will be your new teacher. Mr. Crocker has suffered an unfortunate bout of, shall we say…unpleasant circumstances and will not be returning."
The students cheered so loudly it was deafening. Tootie winced. Timmy's cries had risen above the rest. She wasn't cheering, however. For all she knew, this man was an imposter like Doombringer and might bring about their downfall. She wasn't getting her hopes up.
Mr. Schade's eyes roved the classroom and settled upon Tootie. She flushed and inclined her head. The teacher smiled back and then, without launching into a tirade about fairies, he commenced with the lesson. This was the fastest any teacher she'd encountered had started class; there were no complaints about grades or inappropriate behavior. She ought to have been relieved, but she was apprehensive instead. Things were going too well.
Nathaniel knew Magdalene, even in disguise. Perhaps he ought to say especially in disguise. She sat upon Tootie's desk as a notebook and knowing he was feet away from her quickened his heartbeat. He longed to seize her and hold her in his arms. She was supposed to divine his identity, yet he yearned to scream it out and end the suspense.
How could she not know him? How could she look upon his face and not feel the connection? Cupid had restored their Bond, but it would require additional consummation before it was fully in effect. However, the compulsion had to be there. He found himself thinking her name constantly, to the point where it nearly escaped his lips. How long was he expected to keep up this pretense?
Perhaps he could speak with Tootie during lunch and construct an excuse as to why he had to see her work? He had sensed Deborvak too, but he didn't care one whit about him. If he could just touch Magdalene, she'd know it was him. She had to. She had to recognize him. They were meant to be. Cupid himself had said they were soulmates.
Although Nathaniel had never taught a class before, he had garnered a lot of knowledge through watching TV and reading copious amounts of books. Stuck in that damn small house for centuries, he'd had little else to occupy his time. It was why he was buff, brimming with knowledge, and been bored out of his ever-loving skull. It was hard to deal with isolation when your only companions were the guards tasked with keeping you penned in.
Speaking with children, even if they weren't on his intellectual level, was a godsend. They offered new ideas, albeit not always correct, and they beat speaking to taciturn guards or himself. It ought to have outweighed anything else, but his gaze tracked again and again to Magdalene. He wasn't going to last very long at this rate.
He watched the clock inch forward until it was nearly lunch time. Timmy had fallen asleep, but Nathaniel let him be. The boy had shadows under his eyes and Nathaniel felt certain there was trouble at home. Perhaps he would speak with him later too, to discern what was wrong and see whether there was anything he could to do help. Then again, Timmy had fairies. He might be interfering if he spoke to their godson.
He supposed he ought to have grown bitter and resentful after being cooped up for so long. He wasn't. Then again, he wasn't Crocker, whom he'd had the misfortune of encountering in the parking lot. There was a seriously deranged fruit loop.
At last, the lunch bell rang and Nathaniel waited for the children to exit before moving toward the door.
"One second," he called. "Tootie DeLisle, may I speak with you a minute?"
"Ooh, busted," Deborvak, her pencil, whispered. Magdalene rolled her eyes. Even the small gesture was enough to make Nathaniel's heart skip a beat. He was acting like a lovestruck teenager.
Timmy shot Tootie an unreadable glance as he skipped out of the room. Nathaniel waited until they had all left. Thanks to the manual Jorgen had lent him about teaching, Nathaniel didn't close the door, although he wished he could have. All and sundry could have heard him talk about fairies, but then again, that was par for the course in this school.
"What is it?" she asked, shuffling from one foot to another.
"You didn't seem to be paying attention today," he told her. "Is everything okay? May I see your notebook?"
"Why do you need to see my notebook?" Tootie asked, suspicious. "And everything's fine. You don't need to worry."
That was a lot of hostility for such a small child. Nathaniel's heart went out to her. He could recall being the same animosity at his age. Someone was abusing her at home. No one had that much pent-up rage without something at home being the culprit.
"Maybe you ought to be asking about Timmy," Tootie continued. "He was sleeping."
"I didn't ask about Timmy," he said, not taking offense. "I asked about you."
"I'm fine," she repeated. "Can I go eat lunch now?"
Damn, he needed to be cleverer than this. He was within inches of touching Magdalene and Tootie had thwarted him. The temptation to touch was too strong and he brushed his fingertips against the notebook. Tootie jerked her arm back, putting Magdalene out of reach, and Nathaniel had to bite down hard enough to produce blood to keep from pursuing his former godmother.
"Can I go?" she pressed and he nodded, watching her trod off. He collapsed into his chair and sighed, propping his head on his hands. There'd been a spark when he'd touched the notebook—had she experienced it too? Or was he delusional in addition to lonely?
He glanced over at the papers he'd collected prior to the bell ringing. While his stomach gnawed at him, he thought it best not to join the others in the lunch room. What would he have in common with them? Sure, they might have seen the same TV shows, but he was practically a social pariah. That he'd managed to spend half the morning without any major screw-ups was due partly to Crocker's calamitous teaching. Compared to Crocker, he was a miracle worker.
Pink fairy dust rained down on his desk and he spun to discover a pink haired fairy with matching eyes, a yellow shirt, and black pants studying him. She looked familiar—had she befriended Magdalene prior to the trial and then repudiated her like most of Fairy World? No matter. Jorgen had befitted Nathaniel with faerie glamour. It was unlikely she would recognize him, especially if she hadn't seen him grow up.
"May I help you?" he inquired.
"I know who you are," she murmured.
"Then you have me at a disadvantage," he replied.
"Nathaniel," she said and her tone was grave. It was the first time someone other than Jorgen had used his name in centuries and he shivered.
"Jorgen may have forbidden you to reveal yourself to Magdalene, but he told us all about you," she said. She scanned him up and down and he had a feeling she was subjecting him to an unknown test. Had he passed?
"I hope I'm up to your standards, then."
"I used to be friends with your godmother before she vanished," she said and shook her head. "Cupid's declaration threw everyone for a loop, especially Jorgen."
Hearing Jorgen's name twice in one minute was not good for his temper. He gulped, shoving it back with difficulty. It was an effort to maintain his calm composure. This faerie, whoever she was, didn't deserve his ire. It was Jorgen he reserved his rancor for.
"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."
She frowned. "My husband and I are on guard against your many times descendent. I'm not going to give that information out until I know I can trust you."
"Fair enough," he said. "Perhaps you ought to be getting back to your godson?"
Inclining her head, she vanished in another fairy dust cloud. Nathaniel sighed, brushing the dust away. Magdalene used to produce lavender dust when she poofed from one place to another. It was odd how everything about Magdalene remained so vivid, even after all these years. It was the only part of his life he cared to remember.
His life, as it was, didn't consider of many pleasant experiences. His father had beat him and Magdalene had brought him salvation. Then, all too soon, Jorgen had wrenched it away from him and he'd been bereft.
How cruel was it to dangle freedom and love in front of him and then keep it out of arm's reach? Didn't Jorgen have a heart? Had he loved and lost too and that was why he was taking it out on Nathaniel? Or was he treating him like a lab rat only fit for experiments?
He ought to be grading papers, but he couldn't concentrate. Burying his face in his hands, he ran his fingers through his hair. If he closed his eyes, he saw Magdalene, but that was no different than it had been for centuries. She'd been the only bright point in his life.
His last wish, which he recalled with stark clarity, was that he'd be turned into a faerie so Jorgen could never separate them. The first part had worked out. The second part, however, had backfired so tremendously Nathaniel had difficulty trusting anything Fairy World's leader said ever again. Why was he abiding by Jorgen's rules, anyway? He'd done so for eight hundred years and to what end? He was no happier now than he'd been before. It was only degrees of misery.
Fear had held him back before. He feared Jorgen's wrath, but, really, hadn't the bully done everything in his power to destroy him? The worst he could do now was to shove him back into his cage and forbid him contact with Magdalene. Or put him in Abracatraz.
Steeling himself, he abandoned his work for the moment and strode out of the classroom. He would contrive a way to speak to Magdalene, even if it meant revealing himself. He wouldn't be bound by Jorgen's arcane laws any longer.
If only he could convince himself that his heart pounding and shaking knees meant nothing and he'd be perfectly fine to pursue her without retribution on Jorgen's part.
He didn't think he'd be so lucky. Did he fear Jorgen's punishment more than the chance to reconcile with her?
There was an annoying new blonde girl trying to make friends near the popular kids, but Timmy paid her no attention. He thought her name might've been something with a "C". Whatever. He stared, uninterested, at his meager lunch. It'd been days since he'd had a decent appetite. Wanda nudged him; he didn't know where she'd gone before and he wasn't sure he cared. His godparents had been disappearing and reappearing since Vicky had attacked him.
"Sport, eat something," Wanda cajoled. She was disguised as a milk carton beside Cosmo. Poof was at Spellementary School, leaving him alone with his godparents as it'd been for years.
"Why?" he grumbled. He stared at his unappetizing sludge and pushed it away. "What's the point?"
"You could wish for something better," Cosmo suggested. "Anything you want, we'll poof it up!"
"I'm not hungry," he muttered.
"Sweetie, you need to eat something," Wanda murmured. "Anything. Even if it's just a few bites. You'll get sick if you don't eat."
"Hi!" The annoying girl piped up and Timmy glanced at her.
"I wish you'd go away," he snapped and, before she had a chance to add anything else, she was whisked across the lunchroom. Disconcerted, she started back toward him and Timmy wished her elsewhere again. He'd keep doing it, too, until she got the hint.
Brooding, he looked at his friends. They'd been talking without him and he hadn't paid attention to their conversation. As far as he was concerned, it was all meaningless, just like his lunch. He couldn't remember the last full meal he'd eaten. Only Cosmo and Wanda kept him from collapsing and he felt vaguely bad for abusing their magic like this, when they'd fought so hard to keep Vicky from attacking him.
"That wasn't very nice," Wanda chastised. Timmy huffed and looked in the girl's direction. She was pretty, he supposed. He still didn't care. The nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach grew and he hugged himself. How could Wanda convince him to eat when even the thought made him nauseated?
"Why can't I just wish Vicky away too?" he whispered.
"Well…" she hesitated, knowing she was about to impart bad news. Cosmo glanced at his wife and she replied in that low buzzing sound they had. Telepathy. That was it. Timmy might've been more inclined to care if he weren't so sick.
"Hey, Timmy, you don't look so good," Chester said. "Maybe you should go to the nurse."
"Yeah, right, the nurse," he agreed. When he stood, his legs quaked and he stumbled from the table. On the way out of the cafeteria, he dumped the tray, including his fairies, into the garbage. They resurfaced, discarding trash and rubbish and turning into his backpack and notebook. He wished he could say he felt safer with them there. Vicky's spectre still lurked over him.
He stopped halfway to his locker and, panting, collapsed onto the floor. Burying his face in his hands, he slammed his head against some random locker.
"Do you want to go home?" Wanda murmured.
"Why can't you send Vicky away?" he snapped. "You did so before."
"That was before…we knew," she hedged and Timmy huffed, swinging the backpack around so he could eye Cosmo and Wanda. The fairies flinched under his direct gaze. Wanda trembled and then stiffened her resolve.
"Sport, Vicky has magic too," she whispered. "It's weak, because the bloodline has been diluted, but she has it. And there are evil fairies helping to boost it."
"Juandissimo isn't her father too, is he?" he cried, aghast.
"No. This comes from her many times great-grandmother, Magdalene," she informed him. "We didn't want to tell you before because we didn't want to alarm you."
"Yeah, well, I'm alarmed now," he grumbled. He could still feel Vicky's hands on him and the way they'd inched ever downward. Then Cosmo and Wanda screaming, howling as servals and nearly ripping Vicky's throat out. They'd been so vicious that the teenager had run, terrified, back home.
"Why do you think Jorgen is keeping such a close eye on this?" she queried.
"So's Tootie," he complained. "What if she's just like her sister?"
"She isn't," Wanda said, shaking her head.
"How do you know?" he asked, surly. "You don't. Maybe she's just waiting to spring like a cat on a mouse."
"Or like a flea on a rat," Cosmo suggested and Wanda shot him a dirty look. "What? Just saying."
"You're not helping, Cosmo," Timmy muttered.
"We're going to protect you," she reassured him. "No matter what. In the meanwhile, Tootie has her own problems, which should keep her occupied."
Timmy huffed, not reassured by that either. For all he knew, Tootie and Vicky were mounting a counter offensive. Then again, Tootie had never shown that level of animosity toward him before. He shuddered. He'd thought Vicky was homicidal, not…that. His teeth chattered.
"We're going to get to the bottom of this," she swore. "We'll find out who's helping her and stop them. Jorgen will apprehend them and then we'll figure out what to do about Vicky. I promise."
Timmy nodded, but he didn't believe her. He had no desire to move from this spot, either, even if Crocker happened upon him. Maybe he could feign illness and force someone to carry him to the nurse's office. After all, he was already light-headed and his legs wouldn't support him. But oh god, what if Vicky somehow came to pick him up instead of his parents?
"I wish I were at home!" he said and Cosmo and Wanda held up their wands. He reappeared in his bed and shivered, sick to his stomach. Vicky had cornered him in the living room, at least, so his bedroom was a haven. He curled up beneath the blankets and clenched his eyes shut tight.
"If we can't wish Vicky away…what can we do?" he moaned.
"Keep her from getting too close to you, for one."
"Maul her if she tries to touch you?" Cosmo suggested.
Timmy wanted to laugh, wanted to shrug off Cosmo's ridiculousness. He couldn't. Lethargic and pathetic, he hugged his knees and sobbed. Cosmo and Wanda cradled him in their arms and he hated how he felt like such a child, as though he'd been reduced to a cringing toddler. He craved their affection, their warmth and love. And he hated himself for it.
"Just remember that we love you, sport," Wanda whispered.
"And nothing bad is going to happen to you as long as we're around to stop it," Cosmo promised.
"How come my parents don't care that much?" he protested.
His godparents had no answer for him, not that he had expected one. They weren't going to lie to him about this. While he appreciated their not mincing words, it still hurt to know that his fairy godparents cared more for him than his biological parents and he wouldn't even remember Cosmo and Wanda in a few years.
"Do you wanna watch Crash Nebula?" Cosmo asked, changing the subject before it got too awkward.
"I don't know what I want to do."
"Oh, hon…" Wanda said, shaking her head. "Please. Let's do something fun."
"I wish you'd leave me alone," he muttered, not thinking it through first. Cosmo and Wanda vanished, presumably back to the fish bowl, and he was left alone with his thoughts. Unfortunately, for once in his life, his thoughts were the worst companions he could imagine. They mutinied, reminding him repeatedly of Vicky staring down at him. If his godparents hadn't interfered when they had…he shuddered to think of the consequences.
He knew he shouldn't have wished them away, that he needed his godparents by him more than ever. However, Wanda's needling had gotten to him. Why did she always have to do that? Why did she have to hover and care so damn much? Why couldn't she leave well enough alone?
He knew he needed to eat something, but he didn't care. He'd rather starve than think of Vicky on him again. Sniffing, he realized he smelled cake and bacon. That was his favorite combination.
"Wanda?" he said, at once feeling guilty for his previous thoughts.
"You have to eat something," she said, her voice materializing before the rest of her. "Please, Timmy."
"All right, all right," he said. "Aren't you going to complain that this is full of bad calories and fat and cholesterol?"
"Eat that first and then we'll talk about something more nutritious," she said.
Reluctantly, because he hated when she was right, he took a spoonful and chewed. His vision was swimming from weakness and his godparents had to bolster him upright to prevent him from keeling over. Cosmo had appeared too, helping to support him.
"You don't have to hover, you know," he snapped.
"I'm sorry, did you want to land face first in cake?" Cosmo shot back.
"Sweetie, please. Just eat," she cajoled.
"Don't you two have better things to do than baby me?" he huffed.
"You act like you don't want our help!" Cosmo retorted.
"You two are acting like I can't do anything by myself!"
Wanda bristled. "We are acting like concerned godparents who are trying to get you to eat something before you end up in the hospital. Now eat before I make you."
"Is that a threat?" he snapped.
"Are you going to force me to do it?" she countered.
"Timmy, Wanda, relax," Cosmo said. "Why are we fighting? There's bacon in this cake!"
Casting Cosmo a dirty look, Timmy picked up the utensil again and started eating. This time, Cosmo and Wanda didn't support him and he crashed against his pillows. Fuck. He did need their help. Casting his gaze downward, he gathered the shreds of his dignity.
"I'm sorry…" he mumbled. "I guess I'm weaker than I thought."
"We're not doing this to torture you," she said and then overrode him before he could interject. "We're doing this because we love and care about you and we hate seeing you in pain."
"You think I like being like this?" he replied.
"Of course not," she said.
"You think we like knowing there's a predator on the loose?" Cosmo shot back.
Timmy should have had a smart aleck response for that, but nothing came up. He closed his eyes again. Somehow, he wasn't hungry enough to finish his slice. Wanda stroked his cheek and he bit back a sob.
"I know you're not really angry at us," she soothed. "We're not upset with you either."
"I bet if I told my parents, they wouldn't believe me," he grumbled.
"Yeah, not taking that bet," Cosmo said and Wanda sighed.
"Why don't we focus on what we can control?" she suggested. "And then see how the rest works out later."
Deborvak had Vicky duty tonight. He didn't complain; after his last experience, and considering how thin the ice he was on with Jorgen, he wasn't liable to speak up. Plus…he knew what Vicky had almost done to Timmy. It was in line with what the sorceress had done to him. He had no problems keeping an eye on the bitch.
Magdalene wasn't with him, which was just as well. Deb was feeling taciturn tonight. Right now, Vicky wasn't doing anything productive, just sharpening an axe and looking over at Tootie's confiscated Timmy shrine. He had volunteered for this, to keep Cosmo and Wanda from being on high alert all the time. It was his penance.
He sat as a bird perched upon a tree outside her window. He was anticipating a long, boring night. The tree branch sagged and, to Deb's dissatisfaction, Jorgen Von Strangle appeared as an eagle at the other end.
"You and I need to have a talk," he snapped.
"I did what you said," he replied. "See, look? I'm being a good godparent and obeying orders."
"You did not tell me everything about your position with Empress Utahnastha," he snapped.
Deb winced. Saying her full name was an invitation to summon her here. Of course, she wouldn't condescend to visit a world mostly inhabited by fairies, but the terror remained. He supposed it was somewhat unhealthy to be afraid of his mistress, but she'd also killed his birth mother and driven his father insane…so maybe he had good reason to be.
"There's not much to tell," he hedged.
"Your empress allowed things to reach crisis point before intervening. You could have been killed."
"Since when do you care?" he asked, but the question was without rancor. "I'm doing you a service, yes? Isn't that all that should concern you?"
"You are a fairy under my command," he retorted. "All fairies under my command are my concern."
"Right, but I'm doing you a service," he said. "I'm a cog in a machine."
Jorgen studied him. "Is that how your empress views you?"
He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under the other fairy's scrutiny. To shift the attention, he glanced back at Vicky, who was thumbing through a magazine. Man, this was going to be a long night.
"I am not concerned with your competence just because it reflects badly upon me, puny fairy," Jorgen continued.
Deb said nothing. It seemed safer, somehow, not to reply.
"Why do you hate other fairies?" he asked, changing track.
Deborvak shrugged. He wasn't going to open up that easily and he knew what Jorgen was trying to do, manipulate him into responding.
"I am not going anywhere, so you must bear with my impressive presence all night. You will talk."
"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shaking his head. "I screwed up. You saw it. Hell, everyone saw it. Utah had to come in guns blazing and rescue me. And then punish me because I should've told her what happened."
"How did she punish you?" he asked in a would-be casual voice.
In response, Deborvak turned his back to him. The sorceress's wounds had healed. The whip and claw marks remained. Utah had ensured that they would not heal, as a physical reminder of how he had failed her.
Jorgen was silent for a long time. Deborvak shrugged.
"She was being merciful, you know," he said. "When I got back with Taharkah and then left her for Utah again, with T being Utah's mortal enemy, Utah beat the crap out of me. That was mercy too. She said she was doing it because she cared about me and I needed to be taught a lesson."
"And this woman…this woman is your mistress?" Jorgen said after what felt like an eternity.
"She took me in," he said. "She showed me how to use my powers. She hits me because she's supposed to, isn't she? Isn't that what people do? I mean, Masha doesn't hit me and I don't hit my daughters, but…"
"Your empress has let you off the 'hook' for your tenure as Tootie's godfather, yes?" Jorgen pressed.
"Yeah. Why?" he said, shrugging. It hurt to shrug, though. He hadn't healed all the way yet.
"I do not want you returning there," he growled. "You will stay in Fairy World, you and your family. You will not return to Tyrocka."
"My family's there!" he protested. "I mean, not just my girls and Masha. My cousin Saphina! And Utah…"
"You will not disobey me," he growled.
It was a measure of how poorly Deborvak felt that he didn't press the issue. He'd find a way around it sooner or later. Utah was not going to let him go that easily. Then again, he could be in Dimmsdale for years if Tootie needed the training.
"You are under my command," he informed him. "And if anything ever reaches anywhere near that crisis point again, you will tell me. You will not play 'hero' and try to fight it on your own. Are we clear, Deborvakovik?"
Deborvak said nothing and found a glowing hot wand in his face.
"Are we clear?" he repeated dangerously.
"Yes," he said quietly. "We're clear."
He thought, after having made his point, that Fairy World's leader might disappear. He did not. Instead, he lingered, staring after Vicky thoughtfully. Deb's thoughts went to Magdalene and how she had repudiated the girl because she didn't match some unknown criteria. It reminded him of his father, who had done the same thing to him. He still wasn't sure what Jorgen had been getting at before.
"Abuse is unacceptable," Jorgen said. "Why do you think we watch over human children? Why do you think we protect them and nurture them?"
He considered a smart aleck answer but didn't give it. Instead, he stared ahead.
"I begged someone once to take me away when I was a kid," Deborvak said quietly. "She and the other fairies in her group turned their backs on me because I'm a half breed. They told me that they couldn't take me with them and anyway, I should be glad to be alive."
He shrugged. "They were traitors, so Utah killed them."
"This has been going on since you were a child?" Jorgen said, alarmed, though Deb couldn't figure out why.
"Yeah. Why do you ask?"
Jorgen muttered something in an arcane language Deborvak couldn't decipher. He disappeared, leaving Deborvak to his own devices, for which the half fairy was grateful. He didn't want more heavy conversation or judging, which was what he suspected had been going on.
Tootie was still upset with him, as was her right. Hell, everyone had a right to be upset with him. He'd kept the truth from them. He'd deserved to be punished. Maybe he'd even deserved what the sorceress had done to him. He couldn't say for certain, because not all of his memories were true there. The sorceress had meddled quite a bit.
"Deborvak?" Tootie called and, startled, he reappeared at her side.
"I saw you with Jorgen," she said.
"Were you staring out the window or something?" he asked, uncomfortable. Man, what was with everyone and the twenty questions tonight?
"Did he tell you what Vicky did?" she pressed.
"I know what she did," he sighed. "You do not want to know."
"I could wish it out of you," she threatened.
"You could," he mused. "But one of us needs to keep an eye on her, in case she strikes again."
"I'll figure it out eventually," she warned.
"I hope you don't," he said. "You're better off not knowing, Tootie."
Then, before she had a chance to respond, he resumed his vigil outside Vicky's window.