Disclaimer: You'd be astounded to learn I really don't own FOP. Just try to imagine Fairly Oddparents if I owned it. Er, never mind. It'd probably be rated R...

Chapter Fourteen: Bewitched, Bewildered, and Bothered

The life and times of Lorenzo DeMedici, a troubling patient at best. At the moment, the lovely and charming Lorenzo sat at his desk and glared at a picture of the fairies who ruined his life and the love of his life, Timmy Turner. Gorgeous, delightful Lorenzo sighed and bid the aching in his guts to subside.

((Gorgeous? Who's narrating this?)) Wanda cut in on his introspection and he jumped, startled.

((What the hell? I'm angsting here!))

((Not any more you aren't. You told Timmy you loved him?))

Darkly, he sent back, ((Was it on CNN? I told them to catch my good side. Where are my royalties, dammit?))

((You sound like a spoiled brat.))

((You sound like a dead fairy, bitch.))

((Hurts, doesn't it?)) Wanda replied. She, of course, had disregarded his last comment.

((Shut up bitch, or I'll kill you.)) Lorenzo snapped back and mentally attacked her. She withdrew and he sighed again, a soft little moan of displeasure.

Hmm. Nice narration. At any rate, that stupid bitch should stay the hell out of my thoughts if she doesn't want to die sooner than she already is, he thought and his eyes slid to a picture of Vicky he'd hoarded in one of his midnight rendezvous. Yet there is something in the house worth speaking to.

He hated this reliance on others, this inability to stand on his own. Yet the idea of loving his enemy was so foreign, so completely unfathomable that he might as well seek guidance.

And who better than Icky Vicky (no longer actively upholding the former)? Even with her previous façade of cruelty, surely she knew what it was to love alone. Besides, Adult Swim was on and InuYasha was getting good, or so he'd gathered from the thirteen year old insomniacs.

Closing his eyes, he focused his energy and thoughts, directing them towards the Turner's residence. If he didn't do this right and let his emotions dominate his magic, he'd end up halfway there and halfway here. Well, no doubt Tootie would get a laugh out of it.

The basement was dark and lit by a solitary, flashing glow. Curled up on the couch, blankets about her body, was Vicky herself, nursing the remote. She seemed virtually oblivious to her surroundings and his settling down beside her went unnoticed.

"Good morning. I presume you call it that, being closer to the a.m. than to the night," The Other crooned, stood, and grabbed her about the waist roughly.

Vicky opened her mouth to scream but he placed a knife to her throat and she whimpered instead. He could feel her fear and it filled him. Timmy hadn't been afraid of him for so long he nearly forgot what it was like to instill it.

"I don't think it'll matter if you miss this," he cast about for a name and came up with one, much to his chagrin, "Kagome. Besides, I think you need to give me my proper reception. How do you do, Lorenzo?"

Vicky's expression was loathsome and he lapped it up. With every cell in her body, she hated him. The delicious hatred, juxtaposed by trepidation, completed him. To think he'd considered suffering this alone. She, in her abhorrence, could help him better than someone on his good side.

Gritting her teeth, she repeated it and every muscle in her body tightened. His right hand, previously resting on the couch, slid to her breast and kneaded it. Now he could truly feel the waves of revulsion rolling off of her.

"What is it the insipid people on 7th Heaven say? Oh, yes. 'I need help'."

Yes, you do. Why don't you go fuck yourself and leave me alone? Better yet, why don't you die? It'll do us all a favor!

"Why the hell would you want me? You have Timmy!" Vicky snapped back and he inherently flinched. So he was afraid of his sire now? Well, Wanda had told about the confession (she and Tootie were no longer on speaking terms again), but what a wimp! For a guy who thrived on being conceived of as evil, he certainly didn't act like it. He was acting like a scared little boy, heh.

"Tsk, tsk. I see you don't learn your lessons well," Lorenzo retorted, recovering. The blade pressed lightly into her chin and it bled. "How about another try? Say anything so incredibly stupid to me again and I'll press it every so slightly deeper in, moving down to your jugular vein.

"Come now. Don't be so cruel, love," he chortled and toyed with her nipple. She wanted to gag, but mostly, she wanted him the hell out of her basement. Damn him.

Keeping her tone level, Vicky softly replied, "What do you want with me? You already had your fun." There was a trace of bitterness present in her voice.

"Love, love," The Other drawled and slid his hand around to her back to unfasten her bra. "Fun never ends, especially with you."

"Please…" she whispered, tears blurring her vision. He looked at her in disbelief.

"Manners mean little to me. Do you really think pleading will do anything? I want you, you're mine. Got it?"

Taking a foolish chance, Vicky murmured, "You told Timmy you loved him." Maybe if she changed the subject, he'd stop.

Just as she suspected, it was foolish but not in vain. The knife went deeper, slicing off a layer of skin, but he pulled back. She caught a flicker of pain in his eyes before he turned away from her, both gasping for breath.

"Yes," The Other said flatly. "I did."

"Why?" Vicky grabbed a roll of cotton and held it to the wound to staunch the flow. Fortunately, the first aid supplies were across the room, distancing her from him.

He banged his head against what he thought was the cushion but really was the springs. "I feel like I have a fucking hangover. I don't know why I told him I love him, bitch!"

Vicky smirked, her fingers coiled around an emergency alert for Cosmo and Wanda. In the event The Other ever took another late night stroll and chanced to meet her, she could be somewhat saved. (She was naïve, give her a break. None of the three involved were too ecstatic to discuss when he'd overwhelmed them).

To himself, Lorenzo continued. "I guess because I do. I wish I knew why. I wish I knew why he makes my stomach do somersaults or why I want him all to him myself. But what good is wishful thinking?"

Her lips in a line, she swiftly pressed the red button (weren't they always red?) and waited. Lorenzo was still prattling on, oblivious.

"I wish…" Lorenzo whispered and fainted. At the very same instant, Cosmo and Wanda appeared and took in the scene before them. Vicky was pale and shaking but Lorenzo, on the other hand, looked half dead.

"He's been starving Timmy," Wanda murmured, making sure he was really out. "And taking his energy. Timmy doesn't have enough for himself, much less for a parasite."

"He's been starving Timmy? That's terrible!" Cosmo exclaimed. In the shock of hearing this, he'd forgotten Timmy was being deprived because he was training to murder him.

"Can I go?" Vicky squeaked and they turned to look at her. "I really don't want to be in the same room as him. I don't care what you do with him, just put him in a cabinet or something. He…"

"Of course, sport. Tootie's still awake. The poor girl has insomnia," Wanda said, wondering just what they were to do with The Other.

"Looking at that book," Vicky muttered in disgust and fled up the stairs.

Cosmo and Wanda exchanged glances. If The Other was in such poor shape, it couldn't bode well for Timmy. Could they risk visiting him? The barriers had to be down, what with The Other here.

"Gary…stop protecting him…" Lorenzo mumbled. "You're still there…"

Oh, yeah, Gary. We forgot about him. I guess he must have run up against him.

Aloud, Wanda said nothing. She hoisted The Other up and deposited him in a locker she'd conjured. White, translucent magical ropes wrapped around him and a gag positioned itself in his mouth. Once this was done, she wiped her brow and sighed.

((What are we going to do with Gary? You did lock the door to Timmy's mind, didn't you?))

((Uh, I think so.))

((Which means you didn't.))

((Aw, he won't get out!))

((The Other did.))

Oops.

((That's all you have to say?))

((I want cheese…))

Two evil creatures from Timmy's mind running amuck, wreaking havoc on Dimmsdale. Joy, Wanda thought.

"I wish I knew what I was reading," Tootie muttered, the words swimming before her eyes. "All I see is French."

"Gee, that could be because it is!" Vicky snapped, leaning against Timmy's door frame. Tootie jumped, startled. Okay, so maybe she was up a little late on a school night, and maybe she wasn't supposed to be in Timmy's room, but what gave Vicky the right to eavesdrop?

"What are you doing here?" Tootie asked, guarded. She had to blink to keep her eyes open. "Shouldn't you be watching InuYasha in the basement? I heard it was getting good."

"I'm not in the basement," Vicky hissed, "because The Other is in the basement."

"Oh," Tootie said and blushed. "Sorry."

"Not as sorry as you're going to be, twerpette," Vicky threatened and, in a few paces, snatched the book out of her hands. "What do you think you're doing, practicing magic?"

"I am going to save Timmy," Tootie said defiantly and reached for the book but Vicky held it at arm's length. "He needs me!"

"He needs reality," Vicky retorted. "You have no idea how to use magic."

"I'll learn," Tootie said dangerously.

"Using black magic?" She snapped back and perused the book. "All it looks like to me is a lot of dark spells."

She was right. Even though Vicky barely knew Spanish (a romance language like French that had many similarities in roots) from high school, she didn't need to know French to understand the diagrams. Pictures of people bursting into fire; turning into horrid, scaled monsters; being disemboweled; covered in eyes; genitals where they clearly didn't belong; and painful deaths littered the pages.

"Disgusting!" Vicky cried and dropped it hastily. No wonder it came from Lorenzo's house- it had morbid and revolting written all over it.

"I didn't say it was pretty!" Tootie replied but left the book where it was. Vicky had a point.

"Go to sleep," her sister snarled and kicked the book into Timmy's video game system. "You have school tomorrow and it's one a.m."

"I-"

"And I'll stay here…" Vicky whispered. "Away from The Other…"

Tootie looked up at her and gauged her reaction. Bad? Yes. The Other had to have tried to hurt her again (which was rather obvious given the cotton roll clutched to her throat). But it must have been more serious than the throat wound.

Eyes averted, Tootie slid out of his bed and slowly, sadly, walked to her room. (However, she was careful to sneak the book under the folds of her skirt). Disused to staying up late, she fell asleep in mid-step. Vicky caught her and carted her off to bed.

Slipping in beside her, she wrapped her arms around her sister and wished she could sleep.

They found him staring, mouth agape, at the ceiling. A trickle of drool slid down his cheek and Cosmo, always one to jump to conclusions, thought he was brain dead. Wanda said nothing but privately agreed.

His face was pale white, almost the same level of pallor as his parents. Skin hung on his bones and his breath was ragged. Eyes bloodshot, they surmised he was not only being deprived of food but also sleep.

"I wish…Mom and Dad…" Timmy whispered, rasping.

He's dying. Oh, my poor Timmy! Wanda thought and rushed to his side, clasping his hand. It didn't bother her he hadn't called for them. Naturally, when children were sick, they wanted their parents and who was she but a surrogate?

"He won't kill anyone in that condition, that's for damn sure," Cosmo muttered and floated above his godchild. Unlike Wanda, he didn't dare to touch him.

"Except maybe himself," Wanda murmured back and wiped his forehead, slick with sweat.

"Mom…Dad…miss you…Cosmo 'n Wanda…Lorenzo said…wrong…"

They exchanged troubled looks and Wanda's right hand, gripping his tightly, squeezed it. This had to be his subconscious speaking through dreams, but why did his speech mannerisms resemble Gary's instead of his own? Something peculiar was happening.

"Not cool…Tim-Tim can't die…not on my terms…he's mine. Lorenzo…back off…things'll get nasty if you don't…"

There was no doubt left. Gary, for some mysterious reason, was attempting to prolong Timmy's life. Why had it taken so long for him to surface (especially considering Cosmo had left the door open more than two years ago)? More importantly, why was he saving Timmy?

"Cos…Wan…(Gary's nicknames for them, she remembered)…I wish…food…"

"Done," Wanda said, slightly hesitant. "What happened to Timmy?"

A giant banquet appeared to the left of Timmy's bed and Timmy/Gary flipped over on his stomach; his eyes widened as he took in the sheer amount of food in the feast. Food, finally he could eat! No more starvation, no more hunger pains, and no more weakness. Food!

Wanda pulled it back, astonished at the hunger in his eyes. With that look, he could not only consume the meal, but the plates, the cloth, and even the table itself. She knew if someone had gone for this duration without a suitable diet, they would be unable to hold it down.

Cosmo, who snatched a fried chicken wing and was currently breaking it down into its fundamental element, the bone, froze and stared. What do you think you're doing? He's hungry!

((If he eats a great deal,)) Wanda said, explaining it as simply as she could. ((He'll only throw it back up. His stomach shrank and it won't hold much.))

((Stomachs shrink?))

((Yes,)) Wanda replied, slightly exasperated.

((I didn't know that!))

"Wan…Wanda, what are you doing? How long have you been there?" He lunged for a drumstick but fell off the bed and onto the carpet. He propped himself up on his elbows and glared at the bottom of the table as if it was the reason for missing.

"Mmm, good," Cosmo said, enraptured and ignoring the melodrama.

Deciding to take a page of Cosmo's book, Wanda ignored the testosterone and handed her godson a yogurt. Being of a liquid constitution, his stomach could perhaps digest it easier; at least, this was the theory. Whether it worked in practice was, as usual, a different matter altogether.

"Yogurt?" Timmy said suspiciously and sniffed at the lid, attempting to detect poison.

You're trying to kill us. We're not trying to kill you. "Yes," Wanda said stiffly, "it's yogurt. It's not poisoned and it's the only thing you really should be eating right now."

"You call this," Timmy snapped, holding the container at arm's length as though it was a bomb, "food?"

"Yeah, it's liquid food," Cosmo grinned.

Losing his temper, Timmy retorted to both the stupidity and Wanda, whom he considered beneath him, "I want real food, bitch, not this crap."

He then flung it into the wall, where, luckily, it remained whole and salvageable. Wonderful, he was having a temper tantrum. Perhaps it came with the territory of staying in a spoiled, conceited, worthless, anti-fairy's house.

"Not cool, Tim-Tim. Cos and Wan have nothin' 'gainst you and you're dissin' them. They're tryin' to rescue you, not kill you," Gary hissed in response. Eyes narrowed unpleasantly, he seethed inwardly at his creator's foolishness.

"Gary?" Cosmo inquired, a block of cheese halfway to his mouth. Blinking in confusion, he beheld Timmy's transformation into the cool, imaginary friend, the one he had accidentally forgotten to banish.

"It's all good. Yo, Cos!" Gary said, smirking.

"So, Timmy's sharing his body again, evidently," Wanda remarked.

"Nah. He's too weak to really protest (much) and The Other's pissing me off. What with all the magic 'round here. I could break out if my ole friend wasn't half dead. And, on that note, could you pass me the yogurt, babe? Thanks."

"Blech, yogurt," Cosmo said, pulling a face. "Health food."

"Yogurt's not cool," Gary agreed, "but Tim's starving, so it'll do." He moved into a sitting position, snatched a metal spoon and dug in.

"What do you mean (and I use your phrasing, not my own) 'pissing me off'?" Wanda asked, grabbing a Macintosh apple.

"He's all possessive and stuff. It's like he can't stop kissin' Tim. Totally creepy," Gary answered, savoring the yogurt (it was peach flavored, his favorite).

She nodded, simply indicating she was listening, but refrained from speaking. Truth be told, she'd an inkling of the extent, but Gary, in all likelihood, knew more than she and Tootie combined. Whose side was he on, anyway?

"Yo, Timmy's all, like, oblivious. He only notices his mom and dad and Trix," Gary continued, putting the yogurt to the side on the mahogany table stand next to his bed.

"Timmy's mine and Lorenzo should back off. Timmy made me first. 'Sides, Timmy will never love him like he loved me…" Gary trailed off, a trace of jealousy apparent.

"You'd think he'd be grateful. Timmy gave him life. That's why I'm savin' him- the least he deserves is a level playin' field. Of course," Gary snorted, "Timmy doesn't know I'm here."

"How long?" Wanda murmured, tentative to break the awe filled silence.

"Since Cos here-" (insert dirty look), "-left the door open. I've been bidin' my time, see? The Other ain't a jem to deal with.

"I could kill Timmy if I wanted to. He's headin' for death at this rate, but it ain't worth it, not in this state. Yo, but I'll keep him from dyin'. Can't promise much else. And I got nothin' against you two, neither. Come 'round again when The Other ain't here. It beats Toot spyin' and gettin' in trouble," Gary said and smiled at the long table. Food, delightful food…

"Er, thanks," Wanda said, staring, her mind processing all he had said.

"Mmm, good grub," Cosmo said through thick slices of Swiss.

((Leave some of that for Timmy!)) Wanda admonished.

"Gary isn't hungry, are you, Gary?" Cosmo replied aloud, rendering Gary quite puzzled. Like the situation where Tootie's wrist had broken, he sensed an undercurrent of communication but its nature was veiled. If these two possessed it as well, it could not be malevolent. However, it made no difference at the moment, so it was best to pay no heed to it until it gained importance.

"I sort of am hungry. Unlike The Other, I need to eat. When Tim came up with me, he made me virtually normal. I can do almost everything a human does with a few exceptions."

"Cool," Cosmo said, still eating much to Wanda's annoyance. She snatched the piece, mostly untouched, from his hand and placed it back on the table.

"Totally."

"When you say 'virtually normal', what exactly do you mean?" Wanda queried, a slight frown twisting her lips.

"He's Gary. He's too cool to be completely normal," Cosmo countered. "You know, Gary, from the room, and the food and-"

The person he was fawning over cut him off. "I have some magical powers. Nothin' too big, but I was given them when Timmy got picked on by Francis. But I have no idea what they are."

Wanda opened her mouth to try to figure out the specifics but a sudden hunch from Cosmo halted her. They were needed elsewhere right now and besides, Gary was fully capable of taking care of himself, or so she hoped.

Tootie. Something, she's got herself mixed up in something she can't control. Ugh, I can't explain. I'll just show you.

In her mind's eye, Tootie whispered ancient French words, spells of a long forgotten era, only phantoms of their former selves. Dangerous though they were if uttered correctly, she had mispronounced nearly every word, increasing the danger. Eddies of a malignant current swirled about her and her slumbering sister. This striking shift from the wrong color to the correct one and back again flickered in and out of her vision, alerting Wanda to the possible ramifications of such drastic misuse. What book had she taken?

"We have to go," Wanda said quickly, blinking to remember where she was. The vision had been so powerful, she'd forgotten her place.

"Yeah, don't eat all the food while we're gone," Cosmo teased.

They vanished and Gary, with a sigh, sank back into the pillow. "Tim-Tim, Cos and Wan are cool. They're showin' you love, why are you doin' this? Makes me wish I had enough power to take on The Other and snap some sense into you."

"'Dissmo? What are you doing?" Remy asked, watching the frowning fairy mix a purple concoction into a beaker holding a pink liquid. Steam ensued.

"I am busy, young one. Go to bed," Juan replied, only half attentive to his godson.

"But I want you to come with me," the towheaded boy whined and ogled the flasks. What on earth could his fairy be doing that was so important? Why were these two colors crucial? And, off to the side, there was an isolated test tube of pure green, what was this?

"Go to bed," Juan snapped and dropped the green flask by accident. Its essence vanished and rejoined the pink's. He swore in Spanish and began his experiment anew. If only Remy weren't leaning over his shoulder and making him nervous!

"All you've done since we've met is work on that," Remy complained, pointing to the various laboratory implements. "I never get to see you."

Sighing, the muscular fairy planted a kiss on his godson's head and resumed his careful calculations. "Soon, I promise. Just wait. I will be there in a minute."

Soon, my Wanda, soon.

A rainbow wave rippled through her body and she shuddered in pleasure. Such power! Now she knew why others sought it. The exhilaration- Tootie could remain in this moment forever as a magical conductor in her own private symphony.

"Tootie!" Vicky, struggling to sit up, screamed. "What the hell are you doing?"

Tootie pivoted and the wave engulfed her. Books flew as though caught in a cyclone and one swooped, narrowly missing her sister. Magic unlocked the window and a strong gust whipped around the room.

Vicky cowered inherently. What the hell has she done this time? I told her! But would she listen, no! Heh, sort of reminds me of myself.

A book swung like a pendulum and knocked Tootie out cold. She would have hit the floor and suffered a mild concussion had Wanda not appeared in the nick of time. Both fairies watched the storm taper and then, finally, vanish all together.

"Is she all right?" Vicky asked, huddled under the sheets. Every once in a while, Tootie's head would jerk violently, giving her elder sister a start. In her humble opinion, she was far from fine.

Cradling her godson's love, Wanda frowned, the half moon illuminating her features. "She's used magic far too powerful and lost control of it. Besides, that particular book was banned."

((Why?)) Cosmo asked.

"Why?" Vicky asked aloud.

((Don't you remember? It killed Jorgen's mother's anti-fairy. She, like Tootie, used a spell she couldn't control.))

((Right…))

((You don't remember at all, do you?))

((Nope!))

Wanda heaved a mental sigh.

Meanwhile, Vicky flipped through the pages again. "I think I know why. This stuff is pretty morbid. (This is why I shouldn't have started looking at it again). It's all in French, too. How are you supposed to know what you're reading?"

Shuddering as the events surrounding the "inexplicable" death replayed in her head for Cosmo's benefit, she placed a still quivering Tootie on the bed and retrieved the text. Conjuring up a plastic bag, she then shoved it unceremoniously inside and sealed the bag. In a case involving "La Morte Verit" ("The Veritable Death", its English title), it was best not to take any risks, slight as they might appear on the surface.

"All the old magic books were in French, supposing if you were serious enough about attempting it, you would first learn the language and know what you were getting yourself into before committing to it. However, as the French fell from favoritism in Fairy World, English replaced it. Casters taught by the "new" French volumes were said to possess malevolence.

"As you can see, the one Tootie stole is rather gruesome. Every one written in French with such," (Wanda swallowed hard), "graphic depictions could only be dark magic smuggled in through the Anti-Fairy and Fairy World border. The house we mistakenly sent The Other to must have been a remnant from the time when not all anti-fairies were strictly fairy-like in appearance (hence The Other's human physique)," Wanda finished.

"I knew she shouldn't have gone to The Other's house!" Vicky snapped.

((Oh, she's not gonna like it when we tell her we let Tootie do it, is she?))

((Hush. We thought she was going to take the Faerie Magic book, which she might have if she had gone to the library instead of checking on Timmy. Hmm. Her wrist is at an odd angle.))

So it was. Whomever had fixed it hadn't done a bang up job on the mend and one bone protruded strangely. It looked, to even the untrained eye, as if someone had broken it then attempted to rectify the situation. But Lorenzo couldn't have done it, he would have boasted of his achievement.

"What spell did she cast, anyway?" Vicky asked, examining her sister's wrist and eliciting groans from the poor girl. Obviously, she was moving something incorrectly, but what it was was beyond her.

"I guess we'll find out. I don't speak French well, myself," Wanda said with a shrug. She cast one last glance at the two and sighed. "I think I'd better play guard duty in case The Other wakes during the night."

"Where did you put him, anyway?" Vicky asked.

"Did you do what I suggested?" Cosmo inquired, full of excitement at the thought.

"No. He's in a cupboard. Cosmo, what you suggested was illegal! Not to mention traumatizing."

"Aw," Cosmo sighed, snapping his fingers together. "But it sounded so good."

"What did?" Vicky said, frowning. "Huh?"

"Cosmo wanted to launch him, completely naked, over Dimmsdale Junior High's fence during recess."

Vicky giggled (both at the idea and Cosmo, who was pantomiming what would happen if he had gotten his way). "Why not?"

Wanda blushed. "Well, partly because I don't care to see him naked and partly because- Oh, stop that, Cosmo!"

Cosmo froze in mid-wand swing, enacting Crocker's reaction. Images, including one of a screaming nurse, dissipated under Wanda's reproachful glare.

"Well, I guess I'd better go," Wanda poofed herself out and into the basement. It was going to be a long night and an even longer morning. Although she was a more suitable choice than Cosmo to deal with him, she didn't relish the thought. Still, probing him with no defense might prove useful.

"I can't fucking breathe in here!" Lorenzo screamed and glared at his badly lit surroundings. He went to feel a bruise on his temple but found himself at a loss to move his arm. He was bound from head to toe. What the fuck? What happened last night?

"Morning," a female voice said coldly. Through a slot in the cabinet, he spotted pink hair, swirly pink hair. If only he could reach through the slot and strangle her with it!

"Get me the fuck out here, bitch," he spat and slammed against the door. "This isn't fucking funny!"

Wanda laughed and it grated on his nerves. Goddammit, she had the advantage and he hated it. He wanted to scream, to shove himself against the door and slash her to ribbons, but he felt strangely empty, like he had no energy. What was this feeling?

"I disagree. Do you have any idea what you did last night?" Grand, his banal remarks have rubbed off on me.

He couldn't reach his knife, concealed in his pocket, and thus, couldn't pry the door open. At the moment, empty, he was at her mercy. What a horrid situation.

"Fuck off, bitch. I have a school to run and a pink hatted boy to corrupt."

"You really love him, don't you?" Wanda said softly. "That's what Gary thinks."

Inside the cabinet, Lorenzo blanched. She knew about Gary (well, the love part he knew already, so it wasn't as startling). Cornered, he decided to do what he did best, lie and deny.

"You know nothing, frach," Lorenzo spat.

Bristling from the insult (frach was a derogatory term, a slur, for a fairy godmother composed by a troll on the rampage and it really stung), Wanda decided to refrain from shoving her wand down his throat and continued unabashed. She'd get him with her later questions. "But yet you've been starving him."

Taken by surprise, The Other blurted, "Huh?"

"Humans need to eat. You don't give him anything nourishing and you steal his energy. You're killing him."

He should have said something. I would never have done that to him if I knew. "I don't care. He should have known what he was getting himself into. It's not my fault."

Frustrated beyond belief, Wanda ripped the door open and glared. Using her wand, she spun him around (backhanding him for the slur, and, oh, did it feel good) so he couldn't avert his gaze. Keeping him there hadn't been her idea, it had been Vicky's right off the bat. She, apparently, hadn't thought clearly.

"You're acting as his guardian and yet insist it's not your fault?" Wanda snapped and cast a truth spell, a Vrai in old magic terms, on him. She needed answers and he wasn't going to provide them unless forced.

"It might be!" Lorenzo retorted and gasped. "What did you do to me, bitch?"

"Now you can't lie," Wanda replied coolly. "No matter how hard you try. You know about Gary?"

Bitterly, defeated, he responded, "Yes." If she thought she was going to drag more than a few words of truth from him, she was sadly mistaken. No one got the facts from him, no one.

Wanda processed this and the adamant expression. Carefully selecting her next words, she bit her lip and frowned. Although he couldn't lie, he could always remain silent and she didn't have an infinite amount of time to question him and try to trick him into responding. Tootie needed her and Cosmo wasn't the most reliable fairy to take care of her (Vicky was off somewhere, she hadn't told them where she was going).

"You love Timmy," Wanda murmured, trying to stay on his good side but she needn't have bothered. Since her birth as a female (or so The Other's reasoning went), she was condemned due to her gender. There was also a small matter of her not granting him his freedom two years ago.

"Yes! Jesus fucking Christ, we were over this!" Lorenzo shrieked, instantly on guard. Why not whip all his secrets out for the world to see? Fucking frach. Yes, Timmy was his enemy, and, yes, he'd fallen for him. Did she have to rub it in?

"When you're defensive, you tend to curse more," Wanda noted. "Just an idle observation."

"Why the fuck should it concern you?" He retorted, suddenly surly.

"He's my godchild and, even with all he's been brainwashed into believing by the likes of you, I love him. It's unconditional."

"There's no such thing," he scoffed and wouldn't meet her eyes. He could see the passion in them, the warmth radiating from them. It disgusted him, and, on some weird level, pained him. He could never love Timmy like that, the only love he could offer him was cold and unfeeling. She was this benevolent figure and what was he but a shadowed one, clocked in hatred and vengeance.

"If you love him so much, why do you hurt him?"

"You wouldn't understand." I want him to be perfect. The only way he can be is through trials. If I make him stronger, he wouldn't suffer from imperfection and love.

"Try me." It's not as though you can leap up and run away.

Silence reigned. For a moment, Wanda thought it would remain that way. She was partly right. Lor couldn't verbalize his response, not to her.

"I wish I were at home," he muttered, recalling that, due to being a part of Timmy, his wishes had to be granted.

"One last question and this, you must answer."

Oh, grand. The frach is giving me limitations. What on earth can she subject me to which she hasn't already plagued me with? Goddamn bitch.

"Can Timmy really kill us?" She asked, trembling. Her whole body quaked at the thought.

"Yes."

Seven thirty a.m. and Timmy stretched luxuriously, barely suppressing a scream. He was seeing things, oh, he hoped so. Tootie's face was everywhere.

He shifted and the eyes trailed him. This did it- he'd officially gone insane. Well, perhaps not, perhaps he wasn't the only one who could see her. Perhaps, a small voice dared to ask, his parents could as well.

"Mom? Dad?" Timmy called, wincing. The faces, scowling, shot him a nasty look.

"What is it, honey?" Mrs. Turner asked, troubled with the way her son's eyes darted back and forth as though he were hunted.

"Do you see Tootie everywhere?" Timmy asked, on the verge of a panic attack.

"We don't get out much, being dead and all," Mr. Turner said, floating on the left of his wife.

"That's not what I meant! I mean, everywhere…" Timmy whispered, fearing the faces could eavesdrop. Sure, the idea seemed absurd, but you have to remember he saw about forty versions of his love around the room.

"No," Mrs. Turner said slowly. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I think I need to wash my face to wake up some more, yeah," Timmy said and bolted to the bathroom. If he thought some water would refresh him, he was wrong, for peering out of the medicine cabinet mirror was Tootie, eyes narrowed despairingly.

"My God!" Timmy breathed and fell on the toilet seat, furiously rubbing his eyes. "I'm going crazy!"

Off of every reflective surface was her face, all wearing identical expressions of discontent. While they were mute, their eyes followed him, damning him. He shut his eyes and Tootie appeared on his eyelids.

"Go away…go away…" he whimpered. "Leave me alone!"

She ain't goin' away, Tim-Tim. Why don't you admit it? You've finally cracked. I mean, who really sees their girlfriend everywhere?

She isn't my girlfriend! Trixie is! Get out of my head, Gary, he snarled.

I think you need to deal with a great deal of things that are unpleasant. Speaking of which, perhaps you'd better keep your eyes peeled. You might start seeing things you don't want to.

Mouth agape, his glance glued to the cabinet, Timmy trembled. An ominous feeling rose in his chest and he swallowed hard. By the prickling of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

If he thought he could escape the insanity in school, he was wrong. There was no rest for the weary, no respite for the wicked. Here, there, everywhere, was Tootie's face. He actually dropped his lunch tray on Trixie's head because he saw Tootie glaring back at him.

However, there was, as always at the end of the day, training. If he beat the crap out of something, it would take his mind off of things. Yes, the training was his salvation.

Seven o'clock, well, actually seven-oh-five because he'd taken a slight detour to avoid the glass covered greenhouse. Still, there he was, a sword held firmly in front (Timmy flinched, Tootie's face was on it). "This is our last training session for the day (usually there were two or three, culminating in Timmy's collapse at around twelve). Then, you'll have dinner and I'll, well, never you mind what I do, it's none of your business."

Timmy, a shield on his left arm (he avoided looking at it, fearful of what he might see) and some sort of yellow blade in his right hand (thankfully, this carried no reflection) which acted as a mood indicator, stared at his mentor. His breath was ragged even though no formal training had begun- he'd found himself growing shorter and shorter of breath lately and Tootie's face abound was making him a bit paranoid. Truth be told, these aforementioned two things didn't bother him nearly as much as Lorenzo mentioning food, simply because they never ate.

"Well," The Other snapped after a moment's pause, "are you going to fight or wait until Butch Hartman can draw?"

Timmy lunged (though whether it was for Butch Hartman's, a good friend of his, honor or his own was impossible to determine), a predictable lunge, and The Other veered a little to the left. Propelled by his momentum, the pink hatted boy stumbled and ran smack into the wall. Lorenzo smirked, wishing he had a recorder so he could replay it.

"Well, I must say the poor wall smarts a great deal because that was a mighty blow you dealt it," The Other quipped and Timmy spun around.

"I think you should know the wall can't fight back nor is it your fairy godparents. Focus!" Lorenzo hissed. And get your damn sword out of the wall. It's plainly wedged. How embarrassing.

Timmy, belligerent, moved so swiftly The Other couldn't parlay his advance. The blow caught him off guard and reacted instinctively, delivering a nasty uppercut. The younger boy skidded but held his ground.

Oops. Didn't mean to hit him. Oh, never mind. Time for a little magic. Aiming squarely where his protégé stood, Lorenzo pointed and the floor beneath Timmy caved. Fortunately, Timmy leapt to safety and deflected the subsequent energy blast in the form of purple (purple? Wasn't that Tootie's favorite color?) arrows.

"Good, good. I think it's time for the dummies," Lorenzo smirked and Timmy, atop the weaponry, paused.

"Well, where are they?" Timmy asked, looking about for the replicas.

"That's where you come in, darling. Call them." Because they certainly won't come to me if I called them.

"What do you mean?"

"Call them!" Lorenzo barked.

"Who?"

For the love of all things evil and the hatred of all things good. "Cosmo and Wanda, you dolt!" Lorenzo retorted, his patience and good mood wearing thin.

"Oh, yeah, them."

Lorenzo shook the shelf and Timmy tumbled to the floor. He stared up at the anti-fairy in bewilderment. Why had he knocked him off? And just how was he supposed to know Lorenzo was referring to Cosmo and Wanda?

Just a hunch, but I think that's what you're training for!

"Oh, uh, okay. Cosmo and Wanda…" Timmy called, and, after a brief delay, they appeared.

"Why are we here?" Cosmo asked, completely baffled.

"Hmm. We were put on hold and I don't much fancy waiting. Perhaps allowances should be made, however. I doubt your active sex life will last into death," Lorenzo smirked and scooping up Timmy gently, shoved him forward.

Wanda, face as pink as her hair, jumped in surprise. Timmy looked positively feral and she could easily imagine the foam forming in his mouth. She didn't much like the shifting shape in his right hand, either.

"What's the matter, frach? Don't like the 'transistor'? It can alter into any sort of weapon the user desires. I should know, I read the brochure when I stole it from Fairy World's armory."

"You were in Fairy World?" Cosmo said, aghast. (Wanda was far too occupied with the knife to comment).

"Is there an echo in here? No, fool, I went to Retroville to pay Jimmy Neutron a visit. Of course I went to Fairy World!"

Now, I think you're ready to deal with the threat, the cunt. I'll quickly disperse the idiot. Remember, at the moment, the point is not to murder, simply to instill fear. The murder part doesn't come until next week, so don't get ahead of yourself.

Timmy did as he was bidden. The blade, now a fairy wand, stole Wanda's own and cut it into two. She retreated, unarmed. Reasoning was out of the question considering the mad look in his eyes.

"Timmy," Wanda squealed and the blade, converting itself into a metal net lined with spikes, clamped down on her. "You don't want to do this."

"Fat chance, bitch," Timmy spat and the net narrowed, cutting her face and leaving deep gashes. What am I doing? Wanda! My head hurts…

"Timmy!" Wanda pleaded, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "This isn't you! Please…"

He turned from her (the net released its hold slightly) and wiped his face. Tears kept coming. Wanda. Her wand slipped from his grasp and rolled towards her.

Meanwhile, Lorenzo had had an easy win (or so he thought), Cosmo now a heap on the floor. He was just about to celebrate his victory and check on his beloved (the net was only loosely on Wanda now, Timmy losing control of his emotions) when the door to the shed slammed open and Tootie, "Mom", and "Dad" strode in. Cosmo stirred for it had all been an act and snatched his wand, releasing Wanda completely.

"Forget the frach! Get her!" Lorenzo snapped, glowering at Tootie.

Wanda bristled at the insult and glanced towards her godson. He had his face pressed against the wall and his shoulders shook with sobs. If she really strained, she could make out her and Cosmo's names. He was breaking apart at the seams, his conscience finally catching up with him.

"Miss me?" Tootie whispered, walking over to Timmy. She longed to put her arms around him but remained a foot away. "You haven't seen me for a good thirty seconds."

Clenching her wand tightly, Wanda shut her eyes and synchronized with Cosmo. He was ready, Timmy's parents were ready, it was time. "NOW!"

The world went pitch black and Timmy slumped against Tootie. He collapsed before she and she kissed away his tears before she fainted herself.