Author's Note: I've had the term from hell, as I'm sure you know. Now that school is out, I'll have more time to write. :D

This chapter was written April 19th and edited today, with additions made. I'll try to update on a more regular basis, but, like I've said before, I can't promise anything.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Cold Day In...

The tunnel Timmy descended into with Poof was dark and dank, with an overpowering rotting smell. Poof provided light with his pacifier and Timmy pulled his collar over his nose to stifle the smell. Underneath his feet were stone tile fragments, most reduced to pebbles and impossible to determine any design. The incessant dripping from the ceiling resulted in occasional showers and dust accumulated on his boots. Unable to see the walls, he felt claustrophobic. His heart pounded.

"So, uh…" Timmy attempted to make small talk with a baby. "You're my fairy godbrother."

"Poof," Poof asserted unhappily. Maybe he didn't like being Timmy's godbrother. Or maybe he was just bummed because the ceiling was disturbingly close to their heads. Something flickered in Timmy's edge of sight, and Timmy touched the machete at his hip.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Poof, poof," Poof said, grating on Timmy's nerves. Realizing he wasn't going to get a decent response, he advanced, trembling.

"Hello? Uh, hi? We're not here to ruin your house or whatever it is. We're just trying to get through," Timmy said. Beady bright green eyes stared at them from the darkness. Timmy laughed nervously.

"Cosmo, you idiot!" he said. "What the heck do you think you're doing?"

A scaly something propelled itself at him and snapped its teeth at Timmy's throat. The color drained from his face and certain parts of his body retracted. Its baleful green eyes were darker than Cosmo's and it lacked a crown. Licking its lips terrifyingly close to Timmy's throat, its sharp teeth gleamed off Poof's makeshift light. Heart pounding, Timmy drew the only reasonable conclusion. It wasn't Cosmo. It was an alligator. And it was crushing him.

"Poof, poof!" Poof smacked the alligator with his rattle and the alligator glanced at him briefly, a minor annoyance. Then it turned back to Timmy and licked its lips again. Timmy whimpered.

Maybe…maybe this was some sort of test. Surely Doombringer didn't want him to be alligator meat before he did whatever it was she wanted him to do.

"Okay, now would be a really good time to explain what the heck is going on!" he cried. Ahead, there was a steady drip of water and the noxious smell of something rotting. Cosmo and Wanda didn't show up to bail him out. Timmy squirmed, as best he could with the alligator rapidly squeezing the breath out of his lungs. He reached for his machete and couldn't angle it right; the alligator whirled, laying its tail across Timmy's body and its legs on his arms and legs.

At times like these, Cosmo and Wanda would appear and make everything better. Poof was floating there, close to useless, and Timmy thought their names frantically. The alligator leaned on Timmy's chest and stole his breath. He shivered uncontrollably, suppressing the urge to whimper because it wouldn't get through anyway.

His head spun. His attention span, always short, wasn't helping him when it was hard to think. Black spots appeared before his eyes and he saw Poof shoot a magical beam at the alligator. It bounced off his hide and broke a stalactite on the ceiling. Timmy heard it crash into the floor. Hysterical laughter burned his throat. Thanks, Poof. He felt a lot better knowing he had his back.

Summoning what little strength he had left, he dug around for his knife, which miraculously appeared in his hands. He shoved upward, with what felt like a paltry effort, and the machete cut through the alligator as if he were melted butter. The alligator's insides parted like he had cut plastic and Poof gave an appreciative 'ooh'.

The world spun and Poof shifted back and forth in the air. The black spots in Timmy's vision prohibited him from telling what it was. Beneath his body, the world trembled and Timmy hoped it was an aftereffect of nerves and not a sign things were about to get worse. He had enough of things getting worse. Who the hell sent a boy to save the world without his godparents? And with a baby helper? Against a…what it was.

The air burned entering his lungs and he shuddered. Curling onto his side, he waited for everything to return to normal. Something bounced him and he clenched his eyes shut. Determination to ignore the weirdness worked in other situations, didn't it? Not necessarily in magical ones, but…bounce. BOUNCE. Whatever it was seemed insistent he not ignore it.

"You're in my house," a nasty voice growled. "You're in my house and you killed my pet. And I want to know what you intend to do about it."

Reluctantly, Timmy rolled over and opened his eyes. He looked up…and up. The figure standing over him brushed the top of the ceiling with his long, shaggy brown hair. His eyes were deep brown and currently part of an expression suiting a homicidal murderer. His hair and his beard flowed, concealing his mouth and most of his face aside from those unpleasant eyes. He wore a long sleeved tree trunk brown shirt with several stains Timmy sincerely hoped weren't blood on his breast pocket. The shirt met green pants, cut off at the bottom, and then his gaze was drawn to the axe in the man's hand. Poof jumped in front of Timmy.

"Seleighe," the man scoffed. "I should have known."

"What? What the heck are you talking about?" Timmy temporarily forgot he was at the giant's mercy.

"Bright Court," the troll said and then, because Timmy still gave him a mystified look, added, "Light-blessed. Touched by the faeries of Fairy World."

"Well, duh," he said. What other kinds of faeries were there?

The giant raised his axe and Timmy gulped, abruptly remembering he might be in mortal danger. Poof continued to float over his head and Timmy ignored him. After all, Poof hadn't been much help before. Then again, he didn't know why he had him, anyway. It wasn't like Doombringer had decided to help him out.

If the guy was that upset his pet had split like butter and then disappeared on the spot, why hadn't he said more? What was that thing, anyway? And why did the man need an axe if he had his pet? Well, he didn't have his pet anymore, but…

"I am not of the Bright Court," the troll said and then smiled. He was missing several teeth. "I have no compunctions about killing a child or his faerie friend."

"That's great, dude," Timmy said. "We really didn't mean to kill your whatever it is, and we're really, really sorry. We're trying to find my parents and-"

"I don't care," the troll growled, jarring them.

"If you just let us go, we'll be on our way and we won't bother you ever again," Timmy said. "I promise. I swear on my GPA."

Poof gave him a strange look and Timmy smiled, chagrined. Hey, the giant didn't need to know average in Timmy's world translated into a sea of failure.

"There is something you can do for me," the troll relented and lowered his axe. Timmy and Poof breathed easier.

"Does it involve running really fast and getting away from here?" Timmy said and smiled. Somehow, he sincerely doubted it.

"It's a noble quest," the troll said. "Bring me the head of the clan chief and we will consider your transgression forgotten."

"How do you know I'm not gonna walk out of here and never come back?" Timmy said. The troll smiled and golden ropes materialized. They wrapped around Poof, who tried blasting them with his pacifier to no avail. Then the ropes turned into a net and Poof, looking thoroughly miserable, stared out from underneath a golden butterfly net. Timmy reached for the net to free him and the troll shoved the axe in his face.

"It's been a long time since I tasted a faerie baby," the troll said. Timmy doubted he was joking. His heart pounded painfully in his chest.

"What about a candy bar for Poof?" Timmy suggested and pulled the melted confection out of his pocket. The wrapper was dented in several places and he wasn't sure how old the candy bar was. He wasn't sure Vicky hadn't given it to him and laced it with poison. "Sweet, tooth rotting goodness."

The troll pointed at Poof and smiled. "Sweet, tooth rotting goodness."

Timmy and Poof whimpered. Desperate, Poof grabbed the bottom of the net and it burned his hands. Cradling them to his chest, Poof stared at Timmy with wide purple eyes that begged him for freedom. Somehow, Timmy doubted Cosmo and Wanda, future or present, would take the loss of their son to a faerie eating giant well. And it wasn't like Timmy to leave someone behind, no matter who they were. Well, maybe Vicky…

"How the heck am I supposed to find this clan chief?" Timmy said. He wasn't going to think about beheading him right now. Or what would happen if he delayed for too long and his parents suffered because of it. Then he might get nervous. Or he might already be nervous and be rambling in his head to compensate for it. No pressure, right? Cosmo and Wanda were captured, presumably, and his parents were being…something he didn't want to think about. And now his future godbrother…okay, he wasn't going to panic.

"The clan chief is entertaining guests at the far end of the forest," the troll said. "Go. The longer you stay and dally with me, the sooner he'll know I'm onto him."

"Uh, how the heck is he supposed to know you're onto him when you live underground?" Timmy pointed out. The troll's expression darkened and he advanced, prompting Timmy to retreat.

"He knows," the troll said. "Now get out of my sight."

Casting one final glance upon Poof, who was pretty brave for someone being held hostage, he backed up and then bolted down the hallway. There was no light, so he had to rely on memory to determine which way to go. Thankfully, he hadn't branched off once he got downstairs, so it was a straight line. He had to get this done and the sooner the better.

And the longer he waited…the greater the chance his parents were…

Timmy gulped. He didn't want to complete that sentence.

After a while, her nose was immured to the smells around her. She didn't think she'd ever get the stench out of her clothing, but she planned on burning it anyway. Hopefully, by the time she reached a safe haven and could consider burning them, any opposition would be miles away.

Her boots echoed on the pavement and she ran, uncertain for a while whether the pounding was her feet or pursuit. When finally she couldn't run any longer, she stopped and panted, ears cocked and almost positive there was someone breathing down her neck. There wasn't. Alone in a dripping, oozing underground stink hole, Tootie could finally relax somewhat.

The sewer system stretched on for what felt like eternity and, after she realized she could walk, she lapsed into thought. Unfortunately, due to the system's length and the situation, she had too much to mull over.

Obviously, she hadn't murdered her sister, but if she hadn't, then who had? Who was to say Vicky was really dead? Vicky was the type of person to fake her own death. Tootie halted. Vicky would love to fake her own death, blame someone else for it, and then take off to do what she really intended. But what could Vicky possibly gain from pretending to be dead?

It had something to do with Timmy, no doubt. Tootie's thoughts always ran to Timmy. But Vicky did plenty of things to Timmy without Tootie there. It had to be something big, something Tootie would freak out over. But what? Tootie didn't think Vicky knew about Cosmo and Wanda, unless, in this weird play of events, she suddenly did. And if she knew about them, she could be counted upon to exploit them.

Tootie's stomach roiled. Pain lanced through her head and she saw, in her mind's eye, Cosmo and Wanda inside a birdcage with Vicky swinging it back and forth.

"They have wings, don't they? Anything with wings can be bought and sold."

Chilled, Tootie shoved the half memory out of her mind. It'd be painful to produce the rest and besides, Tootie had a sinking sensation she knew how it had ended. How it had to have ended. Doombringer's tricks were working, if she had triggered this. And that meant no matter what was really going on, Tootie was still a pawn. And, by that token, so was Timmy.

She wished she had something useful. Seeing hollowed out walls wasn't going to be helpful where she was going. The police would be swarming the block, there'd be no coverage, and everyone would expect an escaped felon to head straight for the crime scene. Plus, Isaac Provanzano, the creepy piece of work, would probably be lurking. She couldn't figure him out- he'd helped and yet sicced the other policemen on her too. She wanted to avoid him if he could.

All of this was assuming Vicky was still alive and Tootie could find out the truth. If Vicky wasn't alive, then, forgive the pun, Tootie was making a grave mistake. Still, she couldn't see any other option. She'd have to do what she could and hope for the best. It wasn't like she had faerie godparents to help her out…anymore. The half memory returned and she shuddered, chilled from within. She could only imagine the ending.

Up ahead was a service ladder and she hastened toward it. Above, the cover was slightly off and scant moonlight filtered through. She smelled fresh air, a relief, and for a moment, she assessed her plan. The police would be everywhere, but they might be asleep on the job. No one noticed all the really weird things Timmy did in Dimmsdale and there was a chance she could get through without being noticed…she hoped. She had to do this, to find out what was really going on, before someone paid for her indecision.

She saw, for a half second, Wanda as a bird squawking as Vicky yanked her out of the birdcage and squeezed her tightly. Tootie swallowed past a lump in her throat and she amended her statement. Before someone she loved paid for her indecision.

Splashing through what she hoped was water, she grabbed onto the rungs and hauled herself up. The rungs were slick, partially rusted, and she caught herself a couple times before she fell back. It was bad enough the smell clung to her clothing and she had probably stepped in something foul. Bathing in it was out of the question.

The part of the rung that wasn't slippery was gritty and she knew she'd need a shower soon. One hand over the other, one foot over the other, and the trip upward took far longer than she liked. Her heart pounded- she thought for an instant she heard boots slapping the pavement, but it was only her harsh, anxious breathing. Before this was over, she'd end up paranoid. Or worse, if she couldn't save Timmy.

For a second, she clung to the top rung and stared at the bright moon overhead. Fresh night air blew over her head and she didn't see any traffic. She vaulted up and over, replacing the cover. This sewer outlet led to an alleyway she didn't recognize, but she had to be in Dimmsdale. For one thing, it was unlikely the sewer went all the way to Brightsburg. For another, if it had, she was screwed.

Brushing herself off, she patted her pocket for the now useless device and looked for an exit. To her right was a dumpster with garbage bags piled beside it and the back exit to a restaurant. There was a small, faded sign above the door and she stepped closer. Il Maestro dead-ended the alley. The outdoor seating arrangements were to her right and there were trees and shrubbery on her left.

She tried to orient herself and realized she was in the south end of town. She'd have to miraculously go across town without anyone noticing her or returning her to custody. The advantage was that it was night. She might be able to make it…she wished she had magic. Was this part of the test? But she was smelly, bloody, and frightened. How was she supposed to turn herself invisible?

She thought about the fantasy novels she had read. Faeries didn't always turn themselves invisible- they bent the gaze away, so that it didn't see anything it didn't expect. It wasn't like she wasn't there, but that people wouldn't see her because they weren't looking for her. She'd blend into the scenery unless someone knocked into her. It was a neat trick, one she'd always envied, and one she wasn't sure she could pull off.

She stared at the dumpster behind her and frowned. How the hell did someone become 'one with the dumpster'? Shutting her eyes, she imagined she was no one worth noticing. In fantasy novels, sometimes that person would end up in brown clothing, with brown eyes and brown hair, and a plain face. Palms sweating, she imagined herself as an orderly. Her sister had served as a candy striper in a hospital (god help them) and she could picture it well enough.

When she opened her eyes, she didn't see any difference. Disappointed, she walked onto the main street. The streetlights were on and there weren't many people milling about. The moon's position in the sky suggested eleven p.m., but she wasn't certain. Before now, she hadn't spent much time caring where the sun and moon were and what that meant.

She stuck to the shadows and listened for people. Most businesses were closed and there was no reason for people to linger. Presumably, it was a weeknight and this explained the empty streets, but Tootie couldn't be certain. There was something off about the whole situation. Whatever it was, it wasn't important right now. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and thinking about what she might have to expect when she encountered Vicky.

The problem was she couldn't quite think of what Vicky might do that she wouldn't do in front of Tootie. She had come close to killing Timmy several times and showed no remorse. How could Tootie prevent her from hurting Timmy? She was smaller, she didn't have Timmy's backbone, and Vicky generally got her way.

One foot in front of the other. She had magic, but she didn't know its limits or what she could really do. And she had no real plan, aside from "stop Vicky". That wasn't going to win her any awards.

Timmy's idiom came to mind- "What could possibly go wrong?"

She almost smiled. Her poor, naïve Timmy. What was Vicky doing to him?

After hours of camping out, something finally happened. A half-breed, disguised as a rabbit, hopped near the barrier. Jorgen seized it and squeezed until it shrieked. Finally, something he expected to happen did and, for a moment, he savored the puny mixed blood's fear. It was so nice to be feared instead of powerless.

"Jorgen!" the half-breed squealed, twisting in his hands to stare at Fairy World's leader. His light brown eyes quivered and he fidgeted, although that might have just been the form he took.

"You will help me get inside," Jorgen growled. "Are we clear?"

"I…"

"You. Will. Help. Me," Jorgen snarled. "Or you will have my fist hugging your trachea for an uncomfortably long time."

"I don't…" Jorgen released pressure for the rabbit to speak and it gulped down air like it was going out of style.

"I don't know how…" he whimpered.

"Yes, you do," he hissed. The rabbit blinked rapidly, tears brimming to the surface, and Jorgen almost tossed him aside. The cowardice reminded him of Cosmo and it irritated him. The barrier shimmered and Jorgen shoved his way inside upon one of the flickers. Once inside, the barrier reinstated itself and propelled him and the rabbit about ten feet. Jorgen could feel his strength returning.

Smiling coldly, he tossed the rabbit aside. "The first time a half-breed was ever useful for anything."

"She won't…she won't let you get near them…" the half-breed protested.

"Get near who?" Jorgen said. His eyes flashed.

"Cosmo…and Wanda…and Juandissimo…" the half-breed whimpered. "And…and…the others."

"There are others?" Jorgen roared.

The rabbit half-breed was beside himself with fright. He cowered in a ball and trembled. Jorgen was fairly certain he had wet himself. He scoffed. He didn't care what some puny human thought she would do to stop him. Faeries were his jurisdiction and it was his duty to ensure they were protected.

Failing that, it was his job to ensure all of humanity didn't know about faeries. One human was bad enough, but a greedy one was unforgiveable. If she was canny enough to employ half-breeds, she might be onto things best left unsaid.

He'd find out exactly what she was onto, too, and ensure she didn't remember it. There was nothing more dangerous than an information leak, unless it also involved captive faeries. Thankfully, Cosmo was back in Fairy World's custody, but Wanda…Jorgen remembered the meeting they'd had to have the one time she'd resorted to dark magic. If Wanda gave into the darkness, they'd have a real situation on their hands. Jorgen didn't want to think about it…he'd worry about it when it came up.

In the meanwhile, he flexed his fingers and enjoyed the magic flowing through him. If his power hadn't announced his presence, he should try to sneak into the complex.

He sniffed. He smelled anti-faerie. Things were just getting better and better, weren't they?

Timmy Turner had to have something to do with it. If Cosmo and Wanda were involved, Timmy couldn't be far behind.

Wanda wasn't a great tour guide. She kept lapsing into thought, the painful magic jolting her back and keeping her from thinking about she really needed to focus on. Each hallway looked like the other and she couldn't pinpoint where the other faeries might be with her wand. Anti Cosmo was rambling, Anti Wanda was making inane comments and she felt like she might keel over.

But she had to find Timmy and Tootie. It was imperative. As soon as she did that, and located Remy too, she could rest.

And miles to go before I sleep…