Chapter Six: A Case of the "B"s
Tootie's heart clenched painfully and she scrutinized Timmy, breathing shallowly but perhaps still conscious, and in a state of undress. The Other had gotten his pants off, but not his underwear, and his hand clenched. Beside him, Wanda and Cosmo were crushed under a cardboard box Tootie removed and Wanda sighed, relaxing atop her husband. Tootie stepped back, feeling something slick and sticky under her shoe. Cosmo's blood oozed from the cut and she thought she might be sick.
However, her first priority would always remain Timmy, and she turned around in the incredibly small space, made smaller by the three occupants, to kneel at his side. Wanda edged back, holding Cosmo as if daring Tootie to take him from her.
"Timmy!" Tootie cried and stroked his clammy cheeks. He moaned and Tootie noticed the scrunchie's faint weight on her head vanish. Cal appeared in his normal form and used his wand to elevate Cosmo and Wanda off the floor, to allow Tootie more room. Tootie, meanwhile, ran her fingers through Timmy's scalp to see if he had any matching bruises. He didn't. She wrapped her arms around him protectively, mirroring Wanda, and looked up at Cal.
Calente shut his eyes and his wand glowed. Wanda opened hers and looked ruffled. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"I appreciate what you're doing, but I'm fine," she said. "Worry about Cosmo."
"I will once I've verified you haven't hurt yourself," Cal replied. Wanda hissed.
"Cosmo first, then me," she said. Cal disregarded her and used his wand to heal her. He frowned, contemplatively.
"Did you know you've been mildly poisoned?" he inquired and cast a disparaging look at the vines which had decayed onto the floor. Tootie hadn't noticed, but her skirt brushed them. They carried with them the distinct odor of death, prompting her to gag. One wave of Cal's wand and they disappeared too. Wanda stared at the floor with her lower lip curled.
"I was aware, yes," she said. She snatched her wand and proceeded to attempt to provide an antidote, but he steadied her hand.
"I should examine you and Cosmo in a wider area, perhaps the tree house," he said. "For the moment, I believe Timmy is of greater importance. He doesn't possess healing magic like we do."
He turned to his goddaughter, who had her arms so tightly around Timmy only death would remove them.
"Tootie, you have to move so I can examine him," Cal said, remarkably patient.
"No," she said and felt tears rising to the surface. "Cal...I tried...why won't he listen to me? I warned him..."
"I can't help him if you insist on using him as a life preserver," he said and poked her with his wand.
"Sorry." Arms wrapped about herself, Tootie scooted over and Wanda descended, Cosmo in her arms.
"It's not your fault," Wanda said quietly.
"Exactly. You know Timmy hasn't been listening to you all summer, why should he start now?" Cal said and conjured up a stethoscope. He moved it around Timmy's chest and Tootie willed herself to calm down, but her breaths came quicker and quicker instead. She had no idea what The Other had done to Timmy, or why he felt so fragile in their bond. Wanda laid a hand on her shoulder and Tootie's mind ran wild with possibilities. What if The Other had found a way to harm Timmy without ultimately harming himself? What if this was part of his new plot?
"Sweetie, you have to breathe," Wanda reminded her.
"He'll be all right," Cal finally said after what felt like eternity. "He's suffering from an energy deficit, caused by too little sleep and compounded by The Other taking his energy. After he gets a good rest, he'll recover."
Tootie nodded and Cal stared.
"I need a wish."
"Oh, right," she said, chagrined. "I wish Timmy were safe at home..." Lowering her voice, she added, "And his parents were dust in the wind."
"Sorry. Didn't catch that last part."
She blushed. "Nothing, it was nothing. Just send him home."
Cal inclined his head, and, in a flash, the three faeries and human boy left. Tootie turned, heart heavy, and slipped in Cosmo's blood. Wincing, she used a shelf to pull herself up. Cosmo's blood was wet on her skirt and she eased open the door.
Standing outside, Chester and A.J. stared back at her and she smiled weakly.
"Uh, hey..." she said.
"I know I'm not an expert on everything Timmy," AJ started, "but I'm starting to think something very strange is going on."
"Why is that blood sparkling?" Chester said, pointing to her skirt. She grimaced.
"I'll tell you what I can," she promised.
Vicky was bored. Normally, when she was bored, she'd try to find a babysitting job, except she didn't want to go out and torture someone. She'd rather stay indoors, where it was safe. Plus, to tell the truth, she was afraid of retribution. She'd thought The Other was a kindred spirit, and he'd taken advantage of her. What if all the children she'd taken advantage of ganged up on her and hurt her?
No, it was safer to be a shut in.
In an attempt to alleviate her boredom, she flicked on the TV. This show looked vaguely familiar. In fact, it looked like something Tootie might watch. She curled up on the couch, grabbed a pillow to hug to her chest, and began to watch. Tootie was the only family she had left, even if she was hopelessly hooked to the twerp to her detriment. She might as well muster up what slim solidarity she had.
Tootie told them everything she could conceivably could. The Other had gone from being Timmy's anti faerie self to an evil teenage relative, Cosmo and Wanda were omitted, and she strung it together in such a fashion that it barely held up under inspection. There was no real way to be coherent about a magical sequence of events without mentioning magic.
"Timmy thinks his parents have returned from the grave, so he's spending all his time talking to them instead of being a normal, functioning member of society," Chester said. "He's abandoning all his friends for the sake of these 'ghosts'."
"Timmy's become delusional and we need to break him out before he really loses it," A.J. surmised.
"Yes," Tootie sighed, leaning against the wall for support. Her mind kept flashing back to Timmy's pale figure, along with Cosmo and Wanda so fragile and beaten down. Not to mention how proud and furious Wanda had been...
"It sounds like we'll have to give him some tough love," Chester said.
"Hmm?" Tootie straightened and started paying a little more attention. "What do you mean?"
"It's obvious Timmy's going to need someone to snap him out of it," A.J. said. "And it sounds like we're the right people for the job."
"How are we going to make Timmy listen to us?" Chester said and indicated Tootie. "He won't listen to her and she lives with him."
"We'll find a way," A.J. said. "The ghosts aren't real, after all. I'm sure after speaking with us, he'll see that."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that..." Tootie muttered.
Timmy awoke to two figures floating above his head. Excited and relieved, he rubbed his eyes and beamed. "Mom! Dad! You came back!"
Then his vision settled and he glared. "Oh. It's you guys."
"Yes," Wanda said coldly. "It's us. Good morning to you too, sport. We weren't sure how long you were going to be asleep."
"Yeah, you were out of it." Cosmo added, his eyes narrowed.
"Where are my parents?" Timmy growled.
"Not here, obviously. Why don't you ask them when they get back from The Other? Hmm?" Wanda snapped.
"Liar!" Timmy screamed. "You're just trying to keep them away from me."
"We are doing no such thing!" Wanda cried. "We would never begrudge you time with your parents if it made you happy. Sweetie, we care about you."
"Bullshit," he snapped. Wanda's jaw dropped.
"Excuse me?" she said.
"You and Cosmo are trying to keep me from my parents and you're just jealous I prefer them over you."
Wanda bristled. "We are not jealous. I hate to say it, but your parents are dead and nothing, not even magic, is going to bring them back. It's time you realized the truth."
"Bitch," Timmy spat.
"How dare you!" she snapped. "We raised you better than that!"
"Did you?" Timmy said dangerously. Cosmo lunged, transforming himself into a rabid dog, and Wanda yanked him back with a magical, invisible leash. He snarled, snapping his teeth at Timmy. Wanda inhaled and exhaled, counting to ten, and disappeared from the room.
"Good riddance," he muttered.
Cosmo was shaking in anger and cursing out everything, slipping into the old faerie language when English failed him. He pivoted in mid air and snarled, frustrated and feeling ineffectual. Wanda watched him; her resentment was fueled by another source.
"You know this isn't him talking," Wanda said quietly. Cosmo disappeared and reappeared in the tree house when Wanda restrained him to keep him from going after Timmy. "He's not doing this on purpose."
Cosmo snorted. "Yeah, right."
"It isn't. Since when has Timmy ever used vulgarity? The Other profanes, not our godson."
Deciding her words would have greater effect through telepathy, Wanda decided to speak more openly. ((Energy is neither created nor lost, merely transferred. Do you know what that is?))
((No.)) His anger fled, replaced by confusion and curiosity. He drifted closer to her and stroked her left wing with the back of his hand. Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned. It was a struggle to restore her previous train of thought.
((It's the Law of Conservation of Energy and it also applies to magic. When The Other acquired Timmy's energy, he transferred his own to Timmy. The Other, unwittingly, is lashing out at us through Timmy.))
((He doesn't need to lash out through Timmy. He beat us on his own.)) Cosmo sulked and Wanda squeezed his hand. He kissed her neck and ran his fingers over her curls.
((Maybe so, but we can still influence him. The Other doesn't like that.))
((So?)) Cosmo nuzzled her cheek and trailed kisses down her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and his hands slipped underneath the cloth. Their lips met for a slow kiss, full of promise.
((He might apologize. Thanks for defending my honor, sweetie.))
Cosmo flew her down to the bed and carried her like a precious jewel. He buried his face in her hair and kissed it, then kissed along her cheeks and removed her shirt. Wanda smiled gently back.
((I love you,)) he sent. ((And I always will.))
In his room, Timmy clamped a hand to his mouth and stared at the space where Cosmo and Wanda had occupied. He didn't even know what possessed him to say such a thing. He loved them and he kept driving them away. What was wrong with him?
He could have his parents and them too, just like the old times. He kept thinking of how small Wanda had looked, her fingers brushed against his. She was small and fierce, desperate to protect what was hers. It reminded him of someone else, too. Tootie and Wanda had a lot in common. Tootie would have charged in there armed with a fairy wand if she could have.
Tootie, Cosmo, and Wanda all loved and cared for him. He kept driving the wedge deeper and deeper.
What have I done?
((Just what I wanted you to do.))
((What the? How did you read my thoughts? What are you doing in my head? Get out!))
((You aren't yourself anymore, are you, my love?)) His mental voice was scathing and Timmy balled his fists. He looked out the window, but he'd closed his curtains. The fish bowl, as it had been since a few months ago, remained empty. Cosmo and Wanda never stayed in there now that he'd given them the tree house.
((What are you talking about? I told you to get out of my head!))
((Love thy enemy. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.)) Lorenzo scoffed and Timmy growled.
((I don't want any part of you!))
((It's too late for that. By the way, keep calling Wanda a bitch and I'm sure, in time, she'll see how useless she really is.)) The Other laughed in his mind and withdrew.
Timmy leapt out of bed and rushed to the window. He opened the curtains and stared at the tree house, but they had drawn their curtains. Groaning, he rested against the window. He didn't call them. He was so conflicted. Cosmo and Wanda weren't as good as his real parents, but they loved him almost as much, if not more, than his biological ones. Cosmo and Wanda wanted to prevent him from being happy, from spending time with his parents. And yet...they'd defended him so staunchly, had been so concerned.
He ran his fingers through his hair and longed for simpler times, when his godparents were goldfish, his parents employed Vicky, and he didn't have to worry what anyone really thought. Had he really hurt Wanda? Was The Other right about them? He didn't know, and, the disturbing part was, a small fraction of him didn't want to know, either.
"Hey, missed us, sweetie?" Mrs. Turner called and Timmy ripped himself from the window. He beamed at her and she beamed back.
"Only a whole lot!" Timmy said and ran to his mother, suddenly unsure as to why he was depressed in the first place. So what if he'd hurt Wanda's feelings? Nothing mattered as long as he had his parents.
"Hey, let's play ghost baseball!" his father said. "I'll be the ball."
"You can't be the ball, dear, the bat would pass right through you," his mother objected.
"Oh, yeah, right," he said and laughed. His mother laughed too, and Timmy joined in. Nothing mattered as long as he had his parents.
Vicky was waiting at the table when Tootie got home, a large legal pad in front of her. There was an eerie silence- this was the first time either had laid eyes upon each other in more than a month. Tootie retreated, uncertain to her sister's motives. The last time she'd seen her with a memo pad, it had included a list of chores and black mail procedures.
"Sit," Vicky said in a monotone. Tootie developed goosebumps.
"Why are you here?" Tootie said, distrusting her and putting as much space as she could between the two.
"I want to talk."
"About what? What could possibly concern you?" Tootie spat, her voice laced with venom. She walked past the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Timmy."
Tootie spun around and fixed her sister with a bizarre look. "What did you call him?"
"Timmy, you know, the twerp," Vicky continued to speak in the bland monotone sending shivers down Tootie's spine.
"Why do you want to talk about him?" Tootie said, neutral, crossing her arms over her chest. She descended the stairs and stayed in the living room; she looked in on Vicky.
"Oh, you know, curious whether his other self is out destroying the world like he's ruining relationships," Vicky said. "I bet he's already chased away Cosmo and Wanda and you."
For a while, Tootie just stared at Vicky and she at her. They unconsciously imitated each other, even the same nervous habits. Tootie felt Cal's weight in her hair and was only marginally reassured. Vicky stared holes into her face. Tootie trembled despite herself.
"What do you really want?" Tootie said, suspicious.
"Exactly what I said I did. Why is that so hard to believe?" Vicky snapped.
"Oh, I don't know, because you're Vicky?" Tootie snapped. "Destroyer of dreams, worlds, and possibly planets."
"You might not like me, but I'm the only family you've got left!" Vicky countered. "Now, you can moon over Turner all you want, but he's not going to give you the right time of day. Or, you could stick with me, and at least I won't abandon you in favor of two dead people."
Vicky spat at Tootie's feet and stormed down into the basement. Tootie's ears rang and she glanced at the memo pad Vicky had left. Curiosity compelled her closer and she lifted it up. Every character in every show she watched was outlined and every episode numbered, named, and detailed. There was even a section for voice actors/actresses. Vicky had gone all out.
Carting the pad, Tootie braved the elements and started down the basement stairs. Vicky was curled up on the couch watching TV again. The light flickered, providing more illumination than the rest of the basement. Vicky evidently wasn't a big favor of preserving her vision. Tootie walked into a box, swore, and stepped around it.
"What is this?" Tootie inquired, holding up the pad, trying to keep her tone light and casual.
Vicky didn't answer right away. On screen, a cartoon boy with white hair turned transparent and walked through walls. His best friends, a goth girl and an African American boy, stood in front of his locker to conceal the fact their best friend had just turned into a ghost. Tootie recognized it- "Danny Phantom".
"Why are you watching a cartoon?" Tootie sat on the end of the couch and regarded her sister. "You hate cartoons."
"They're not so bad," Vicky said, shrugging. "Hell of a lot better than dealing with the real world."
"Oh..." Tootie didn't know what to say to that. "Why did you make a list of all my favorite shows?"
"Hate is exhausting."
"Huh?"
"You don't realize how much energy it takes until it's gone," Vicky said. The show had gone to commercial, now talking about a kid with a freakishly large head and a predilection for aliens.
"You wanted to get to know me?" Tootie said, changing the subject. Vicky's unemotional responses were unnerving her. This burned out husk couldn't possibly be the sister who had terrorized her for years.
"Why not? It's not like you've got anyone else to talk to. That faerie of yours is never around, and the twerp wouldn't know kindness if it bit him in the ass."
"Why should I trust you? You were the one who burned all my Timmy things and forbade me to speak to him under penalty of torture."
Vicky laughed curtly. "It looks like I was right, wasn't it? And maybe because, unlike the twerp, I won't sic my evil anti faerie on you, even if I had one."
"You really want to get to know me?" Tootie repeated.
"Are you really this dense?" Vicky countered.
"Fine, I'll stay," Tootie said. She was uncomfortable, but perhaps this might have a way of working out, in a really bizarre fashion. And she always had Cal, if she needed him.
The doorbell rang, jarring Tootie and Vicky from their near-trance like state on the couch. Tootie jumped to her feet.
"Oh, sorry," she said. "It's Chester and A.J. I told them to come over."
Vicky nodded and turned back to the screen. Her eyes acquired a glazed look and Tootie wondered if she'd even heard her. The door bell rang again and Tootie hissed, darting up the stairs. Seriously, what happened to patience?
Flinging the door open, she glowered at Timmy's friends, a little out of breath. "Didn't you think I might be busy?"
Chester goggled at the open basement door. "Doesn't Vicky live in that part of the house?"
"It's not like she's evil…"
They stared.
"…anymore. I'll just close that." Tootie strode over and shut it swiftly, sounds of Rudy Tabootie and Penny Sanchez clearly audible. Vicky's certainly becoming eccentric.
"What did you want to talk to me about, anyway?" Tootie said, hand still on the doorknob.
"We were wondering if a confrontation in Timmy's home might be best. He won't have far to run." A.J. pointed out.
Since the one in school went so smoothly. "Even so, what makes you think it'll work?"
"Well, this is where we always hang out. Why not?" Chester said with a happy smile.
"I don't know…"
"We'll find out in a few minutes, won't we?" A.J. said as he and Chester grabbed each of her arms and dragged her up the stairs.
"Wait! This isn't a good idea! Why are you dragging me into this?" Tootie protested every step of the way.
"We aren't doing this for you," A.J. said.
"We're doing it for Timmy," Chester added.
Finally, they arrived at his door, Tootie stepped in front and tried to bar their entrance. "No, listen, you want to rethink this. It's not a good idea, he's-"
A.J. snorted. "Whatever he's doing, it's not half as important as what we're about to talk to him about. Now, leave."
"I won't!"
"You want us to help him, don't you?" Chester said.
"Not here!"
"Oh, honestly!" A.J. snapped and grabbed the doorknob. "Are you behind us or not?"
"I am, but…" Tootie said weakly.
"Then get out of the way!" Chester snapped and both managed to remove the obstacle and open the door.
They staggered back and Tootie covered her mouth, suppressing a gasp. Timmy and his ghastly parents were playing video games.