Author's Note: Go get my father! Go, my fan minions, fly! (evil laughter) Anyway, I'm sneaking around his back doing this, because he's being a real prick. I'd give you the details, but this chapter is long already.
Disclaimer: "Cuz I'm one step closer to the edge and I'm about to break" Oh, wait, you wanted me to tell you I don't own FOP, right? And I also don't own that song I'm quoting. :P
Chapter Thirteen: Love Lorne and Loveless
He couldn't stand to look at her for the longest time. Instead, he glared, punching out the wall. Rage filled him to the core- she must wake.
So she did, and he used his wand to pin her to the wall, paralyzing her. She could feel everything but do nothing. Time for a little old-fashioned payback.
"Get the hell away from me," Wanda growled, sending the message to her limbs to move but they were unresponsive. He smirked, slipping his hand down to squeeze and twist her nipple. She cried out in pain.
"I call the shots now." Waving his wand again, he eliminated their clothing. One of his hands, placed on her chest, felt her heartbeat increase. She was terrified but hiding it well.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Wanda snapped, her voice quavering slightly. He had the advantage and she knew it.
"Why, reenacting your night, of course." Then, as hard and as fast as he could, never mind that she wasn't lubricated, he took her. She screamed as he tore into her, both mentally and physically. Not only was he taking her physically, he was deliberately hurting her telepathically.
When he was finished; Wanda, rubbed raw, spat in his face since she had no other recourse. He drew his fist up inside her and punched her. Blood came out on his hand, but, imaging it was Cosmo's, he did it several more times. She no longer had the strength to do anything but whimper.
"Was Cosmo that good?" Juandissimo spat, wiping her saliva off on her. He shook her violently.
"Was he?"
"I hate you..." Wanda whispered, biting back tears. "And if he doesn't kill you, I will myself."
"You and what army?" Juan snorted, leaving her to suffer while he informed Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda of their whereabouts. After all, just in case they changed their mind, he wanted to have them visit and see how he tamed this shrew. Perhaps he'd even replay it.
Finally, once he was gone, Wanda began to cry for the first time in a long time (as her false memories served her). She was helpless and she knew it. She didn't even know where she was, much less how to get Cosmo there.
So, in a last ditch effort, she called his name in telepathy and passed out, bleeding still.
((Cosmo...please...rescue me...))
(Timmy's house, 2:00 a.m. PST)
Sophie was stranded and she knew it. Unfortunately, she also knew now was not the time to call her parents to tell them. After all, not only would it be impossible to explain how she found herself in this situation, she was across the continent.
Gary didn't hang around. His fists were balled; she could tell he badly wanted to punch someone out. Rather than do so, he left.
Lying down on the couch, she ignored the bloodstains and curled up. She had to make the best of this.
Hi, I'm Sophie, Wanda's goddaughter. Only, she has a godson, so I really shouldn't exist. But why do I? Because of Juandissimo?
I wish I understood more of what was going on. Just because I'm a kid doesn't mean I don't grasp complex situations. I could comprehend it, if they gave me a chance.
I wish I were more involved...
Utterly drained, Sophie fell asleep, her dreams full of demons and dark magic, all involving Wanda.
(Vicky's basement, 6:30 a.m. PST)
Vicky paced the small kitchen, her feet pounding on the tiles. Mark had long since given up on coaxing her to stop; she just kept going. Every once in a while, she halted, jerked towards the opposite direction, and continued again. Just watching her made him dizzy.
"I'm going to get Tootie..." Vicky snapped, turning sharply. "How dare she just show up after three months and act like nothing happened? Bitch!"
"Actually, you don't know where she was and if she can in fact tell you," Mark corrected softly, and she glared at him. Not exactly the answer she wanted to hear- he knew she wanted him to side with him, but that jus wasn't possible. He felt for Tootie, looking so terribly morose.
"That's not the point!" Vicky thundered, sauntering up to him, her fists balled. He wondered briefly if she would consider striking him.
Not meeting her eyes, his gaze slid down to her stomach, which was protruding slightly. Hmm...another possible reason for agitation. Had she gotten her period? Perhaps she was late.
((My dearest Vicky, I hate to change the subject, but...when was the last time you menstruated?))
"Huh?" Now it was time for her to stare at him, her mouth slightly ajar. "What are you talking about?"
Bowing his head, he sent sheepishly, ((It's possible you may have missed it for a reason.))
"I didn't miss it!" Vicky snapped. "I'm just abnormally late!" ((Oh, God, what if I'm pregnant?))
((There's a way to find out.)) His eyes met hers but she glanced away. Through their link, he caught agitation and fear. She didn't want to be pregnant, didn't want to start a family. In fact, he rather doubted she liked children at all.
"You...you got me pregnant!" Vicky snapped, completely unjustified. Looking murderous, she dashed into the bathroom to request the medicine cabinet dispel a test. He remained where he was, fingers tapping on the sofa arm.
"Well?" He inquired when she returned, the test balled in her hand. She threw at him, not a good sign. If she could breathe fire, he'd be ashes before she looked twice.
"Well, I'm having one of your freak kids!" She retorted, stomping up to him. He had to dodge a fist aimed at his face.
Mark sat, stunned. Truthfully, he hadn't the foggiest clue how to react, how she wanted him to react and what he really wanted to say. Personally, the idea of her having his child made him delirious with joy, but he kept his mouth shut.
She threw herself on the couch beside and hugged her arms to her chest, already increasing. Anger emanated from her, so strong it was almost palpable. Nothing like getting Vicky pissed off to start your morning.
Smiling, he placed a hand on her shoulder, a hand she threw off forcefully. Okay...
"Don't touch me! You did enough of that already!" Vicky spat, jumping up off the couch and darting to the stairs.
Mark chuckled dryly, partially amused by her reaction. ((Need I remind you who begged whom?))
"I wouldn't have done it if I had realized what would happen!" Vicky shot back, glaring daggers at him.
Biting back a smile, he replied, "Didn't you have health class? Put the condom on the banana and all that?" ((Human birth control and its many deficiencies.))
"I did, but this is completely different!"
Softly, he replied, "For three months, we've had unprotected sex almost every day. It was bound to happen."
"That's easy for you to say! You aren't pregnant!"
Thank the Lord. "I have no intentions of abandoning you, my dearest Vicky. I left my world, ostracized and exiled, to spend my life with you. I had eventually planned to have children, but sooner is better than later, I suppose."
"I didn't want to have children! I hate them, with their neediness and-"
"You didn't have a very happy childhood, did you?"
"That's besides the point! I..."
"You can get an abortion if you wish," Mark said dully. "It doesn't matter to me."
((It matters the world to you if I do, doesn't it?))
((I cannot lie here. (sigh) Even if it's selfish, I always dreamed of starting a family with you.))
From her he sensed an almost overwhelming terror- she no longer hated children, she feared them. Perhaps she'd never hated them, but feared their happiness. Therefore, she made them as miserable as humanly possible, so she didn't have to face their exuberance while she herself could not attain it.
"I'm going to go talk to Tootie," Vicky murmured. And place the blame solely and sorely on her. If she had been around, none of this would be happening.
He nodded, privately deeming this a bad idea. The poor child had enough to deal with without her sister adding to her troubles. But if he agitated Vicky too much, there was a chance she could miscarry, even at such an early stage. He'd best not risk it.
Yanking the door open and slamming it shut once she was on the ground floor, Vicky pretty nearly breathed fire. Icky Vicky on the rampage, children be advised.
(Tootie's room, 7:00 a.m. PST)
Tootie's eyes were shut tightly, but, somehow, she could still see the horror unfolding before her. Inexplicably, a version of The Other resembling Trixie had gotten a hold of Timmy. Not just any Timmy, either, but her Timmy.
She grinned and slid her hands down his front. He gazed at her, caught between remorse and a sick sense of revenge. Truly, he was getting back at her for abandoning him. If she couldn't love him, a sluttier version of Trixie could.
"What are you going to do to him?" Tootie whispered, breath caught in her throat. Beside her were Cal and Daniela, both shaking their heads at her. What had she done wrong to merit this? Why did it seem as though she was coming in media res?
"Everything you should have done with him while you were off gallivanting around," The Other purred, straddling him as he sat on the chair. She rubbed herself against him.
"That isn't fair!" Tootie cried, pleading Timmy with her eyes to fend her off. She was afraid to make a move, terrified Timmy would agree with her and proceed to have sex in front of her.
"But it's what happened, isn't it?" Timmy shot back, grinning lazily as The Other, Katrina, slid her hands under his shirt and stroked his chest.
"No!" Tootie screamed, leaping at Katrina with the transistor. She changed before her into Lorelei, kneeling before the image of Vicky. The transistor converted into the bronze sword, imbedding itself in her stomach.
Timmy separated from Lorelei, but it wasn't only him this time. It was him, the two other versions, and everyone else she'd encountered. They all massed together, pointing their fingers at her. It was her fault, all her fault.
"No...stop...I didn't mean to kill her!" She cried, retreating. Her Timmy led the group, his wrists bleeding and his face contorting.
"You didn't mean to kill her...but you meant to kill me!" He charged, pressing his bloody wrists against her whip marks. The blood pooled, meshed, and formed a figure- Jorgen Von Strangle.
"You broke the rules! You slept with another Timmy!"
"No, no, I'm a virgin, I'm a virgin...I'm a virgin!"
"No, no," Tootie moaned, tossing and turning. Cal, floating incognito beside her, sighed. He couldn't do anything for her, as much as he'd like to. And any time anyone had done anything for her, it wasn't permanent.
((You have to wake up)), Cal murmured, extending his arm out to smooth her hair back and wipe the beads of sweat off her forehead. His hand passed through.
"I need Timmy..." Tootie whimpered, rousing. Daniela appeared beside him, resting her head on his shoulders. He wrapped an arm around her and smoothed her hair.
((I know. But, unfortunately, you're going to have to make do on your own. You'll be stronger for it.)) Cal replied, indicating she grab the transistor so he could gain some sort of physical form.
"What if I don't want to be stronger?" Tootie snapped, on the verge of tears again. "What if I just want to stay here? What if I want to tell Fairy World to go fuck themselves-"
Daniela chuckled dryly. ((What if you did that and Jorgen made your life worse than it already is? What if he made it so you couldn't go home at all?))
"Might be better off that way than having Timmy act like such a dick to me..." She whispered, hand on her stomach. It felt oddly better, but only a tinge so. Bandages were there, but how was beyond her.
((You'd better get ready for school. Today's your last day here for a while)), Cal said softly.
"Fine," Tootie spat, surprised by her venom. "I won't miss it, either!"
((Oh, dear)), Daniela sent privately to Cal. (Telepathy worked on this level, so Cal's goddaughter couldn't hear them).
((I thought this would be a short vacation, but it seems to have been more of an ordeal for than her missions.))
There was a knock at the door and Tootie jumped, startled. She gazed at the two translucent fairies floating beside, wondering what they could possibly converse about. Whatever it was, it probably didn't concern her.
Speaking of concern, no one had cared enough to visit her last night. Sure, there were dreams saying contrary, but did she really believe them? Timmy didn't care, and as for Gary? She doubted it.
Gazing at her knapsack, Tootie thought she saw a piece of paper sticking out. She bit her lip, wondering what it was and whether it was worth the effort to retrieve it. What the heck was it, anyway?
However, before she rose, Vicky burst into the room, holding up a test and throwing in her face. Tootie shuddered, wiping off her face (one of those urine tests). What a great way to start a morning, with your sister's urine soaked pregnancy test in your face. Wonderful.
"Do you know what this?" Vicky hissed, leaning precariously close to her face. Tootie backed up into the wall, feeling the teapot rage rising. God, no, it was too early in the day.
"Something I neither want to see nor deal with?" Tootie murmured, accidentally slamming her head into the wall. Ow...
"This happened because you were gone!" She hissed, brandishing the test and shaking it and her. Tootie grabbed her sister's wrist, trying to pull her off.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, global warming happened because I was gone!" Tootie retorted, blinking and squeezing her wrist, trying to get her to let go.
"No, you don't understand. You got me pregnant!"
"I think your sex education left something to be desired. Girls can't get girls pregnant and boys can't get boys pregnant, no matter what people say online. Besides which, I have no interest in you that way, since that's gay incest-"
"Don't be a smartass," Vicky growled, her nose a mere three inches away. "I wasn't being literal, you idiot!"
"Look, I've had a really bad day yesterday and today is my last day here, so would you mind not sprouting insanity?!"
"Shut up! This isn't insanity- if you hadn't left me and Mark alone, none of this would have happened. We wouldn't have gotten close enough to have sex and then I wouldn't be pregnant with a kid I don't want!"
"First, that isn't my problem. Second, it would have happened anyway, because you're attracted to him and he sleeps not five feet away from you! You'd have to be heartless and hormoneless to evade him!
"Besides which," Tootie continued, growling, "if you'd used protection, then you could have been as slutty as you wanted and it wouldn't have happened. Don't pin this shit on me, I have enough to deal with."
Drawing back her hand, she slapped her and she hit the wall again. Dammit, I gotta stop leaving myself open for those. What the hell is her problem? I'm sorry she's pregnant, but she has no right to blame me! I didn't knock her up, Mark did. If she wants to yell at someone, she should yell at him.
"Don't you dare call me a slut after the way you act around Timmy. If it were possible, you would have been with him when you were ten-"
Dangerously, Tootie replied, "Don't talk about things you don't understand. Timmy's been treating me like shit since I got home and your calling me a slut makes you no better than Lorenzo, does it?"
"You little bitch! How dare you bring him up in front of me!"
"Well, you clearly got over it, because you slept with Mark. And if I'm a bitch, it's nothing compared to you. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to spend the rest of my day without being abjectly miserable-"
"You're not going anywhere!" Grabbing her arm, she wrenched it behind her back. Tootie yelped in pain and kicked her in the stomach.
A scuffle ensued, a very confusing one in which the wound reopened yet again in her stomach and she clawed her sister's face. They lay, spent, atop each other. Vicky's arm lay loosely atop her sister, somewhat hugging her to her.
"You're going to give me a miscarriage..." The redhead murmured, shoving her into the wall again and standing.
All she could do was gaze at her, jaw slack, as she left the room and the blame sorely on her. Another problem to deal with....wonderful.
Badly shaken, Tootie rose unsteadily to her feet as she clutched her stomach. Cal and Daniela appeared beside her, the latter almost out of his mind with anxiety. He longed to tell her Timmy had been here last night, it wasn't just a dream, but something held him back. Nagging was the suspicion that Timmy thought it a reverie too and he really didn't want to get her hopes up.
Cursing, she haphazardly tossed a few garments into a knapsack as well as a picture of them. She paused, cradling the photo to her chest. Tears streamed down her face and she shook her head fiercely to clear her eyes.
"It looks like you're packing," Timmy said and she spun around. Sometime between Vicky leaving and the location of the picture, he'd snuck in. Her heart raced, recalling the dream with such verisimilitude.
"I...I have to leave by sunset," she murmured, cramming the transistor, currently dormant as a long, murky brown rod, into the bag. It hadn't occurred to her that, by reacting like this, she was avoiding the problem, but, in a way, she was. She was fleeing him and his anger, his resentment. She was escaping to the underworld.
"So this was just a one night stand? 'I'll just stop here long enough so he'll know I'm still alive and I won't even stay to try to pick up the pieces'. Is that it?" Timmy spat, narrowing the space between them.
"No! I..." I don't want to stay here. If he cared about me like I thought, he would be begging me to stay, instead of condemning me.
"You what? You're shunning me, don't deny it! What, I'm not good enough for you? Or are you still afraid I'm going to kill you?"
"Wha-What?" In the duration that passed, she'd entirely forgotten. It was so long ago and buried under so much, it seemed like it belonged to a past life.
"That's not it! I...I have things I have to do, things I'm not proud of and, with all my heart, I wish I didn't need to do, but I have to leave by sundown to do them. I know to you it might seem like I'm running away, but I have no choice in the matter. I'm a foot soldier for a government that could clearly care less.
"I wish I could stay to work things out, but it seems as though our relationship has fallen into disrepair. No matter what I do or say (or write), nothing seems to make an impact on you. I've told you as much as I can, as much as I'm allowed to tell you, and it's not enough. And, because of this, you're unfairly judging me and further ruining what could have been a good day home.
"Don't even lie to me and say that's not true. I should have known from the moment that I saw your face how wrong it was to return here. Nothing's changed; you still hate me, albeit for different reasons than before.
"And don't tell me Lorenzo this, Lorenzo that. You got over Lorenzo just like Vicky did, so stop bitching and moaning like you're the victim here. There's nothing wrong with you..." And everything wrong with me.
"You're right," Timmy spat, surprising her. "There nothing's wrong with me, it's you.
"You had to go and leave me, you had to act as though it was no big deal, you had to keep secrets from me, and now you have to run away. It's all about you."
"I'm not running away, dammit! Why the hell do you have to be so stubborn? I told you why I'm leaving, I told you as much as I could, but you still keep complaining! Why don't you cherish the little time we have instead of acting like a baby?"
"Me, acting like a baby?" He snapped back, grabbing her by the elbow. She glared at him, jerking her arm away. A vision of Vicky bending it back flitted through her head and she cringed.
"Yes, you! You, you, you! If I'm leaving, I have a good reason to! And, maybe, just maybe, I don't mind because it means I get to leave you, you, you!"
"If I'm the one acting like a baby, then why are you the one crying?" Snatching her sack, he threw it off the table and onto the floor. The contents spilled, including the transistor.
Touching her face, she knew what he said to be true. Unfortunately, since crying came so natural to her, she barely noticed it at times. Angrily, she rubbed her eyes, red with tears.
"You're such a crybaby!" Glowering, he hissed this at her, practically spitting in her face. She drew back from him, pain evident in her eyes, but it was replaced, becoming cold and emotionless.
More anger than she knew possible filled her, shaking her to the core. She pinned him to the wall, slamming him against it just as her head had done before. Timmy gazed at her, open mouthed.
Pressing her fist into his throat, she growled, "Then maybe I won't waste my tears on you. Maybe there's no real point in crying if no one really gives a damn about me. I mean, my sister came in here just now, all Icky Vicky and blaming me for her pregnancy. You waltz in here and all but blame me for the loss of innocence in humanity.
"I'm sick of being your scapegoat, Timmy Turner. If your life is fucked up, surprise, surprise, that's not my fault. If no one is around to comfort you, well, guess what? That's not my fault either. I didn't take Wanda away, I didn't alienate my friends, I didn't do anything.
"But yet, inexplicably, it becomes my fault. Can you tell me why? Is it because you're such a fucking drama queen that, no matter what I do or don't do, you'll make a scene out of it? Is that it?"
Grinding her fist into his throat, she spat, "Isn't it, Timmy? All your life, you had someone convenient to talk to, to blame things on, to joke around with. You were never alone.
"And now that you are, you can't handle it. So you throw everything you couldn't do, everything you couldn't handle, at the first person you see so they can't handle it either. You overburden them to make yourself feel better.
"Well, I'm not playing your game anymore. The next time I see you, it'll be too soon, because I never, ever want to see you again. In fact, I hope I don't come back at all. I hope I die, so my death can hang over you like a shroud of misery, what you caused me. Then you can blame my grave, if I have one."
Removing her fist, she allowed him to slide down the wall and kicked him in the leg. He cried out in pain, but this was nothing compared to the white-hot throbbing of her stomach and the fury in her heart. She suddenly knew why Vicky used to be angry at the world, for she shared the emotion.
Nothing would please her more than to have the world explode in a fiery ball of chaos, Timmy enveloped in it. She would smirk at his pain, and feel no more of her own. She wouldn't have this weight on her chest, she wouldn't feel the guilt of her recent actions toward him.
I hurt him, I threatened him. I...I'm changing, aren't I? The missions made me cruel and hurtful, but is it unmerited? He's acted just that way to me, so doesn't he deserve it? Is that true or am I just justifying my actions because I have nothing left? I don't know anymore.
Grabbing the transistor, she pivoted, ready to leave. However, Timmy grabbed her arm, yanking her down to him. Both trembled badly.
"Tootie..." He breathed, caressing her cheek. She shut her eyes tightly, shoving him away. Her heart beat like a jackhammer, threatening to burst from her chest. Badly, she wanted him to apologize and kiss her, but she was so angry, she couldn't see straight.
"Don't touch me," she spat, rising. "Don't besmirch me with your lies and false promises." I'm sick of waiting for the impossible. You act like you care for a few seconds, then you just return to being a dick. I'm tired of the hypocrisy. If you don't care, just tell me.
Snatching the transistor, she cast one glance at him before running out of the room, out the door, and out of that realm.
Thrusting inside her, he picks up speed (Wanda's cries spurring him on) until she feels him, shuddering, release deep within her. He grins lazily, exhausted. All she can do is the same, caressing his cheek.
Sliding off, he lies beside her, wrapping his arms around her. She leans into him and the comfort he offers, comfort she sorely needs. When he holds her, she forgets everything Juan has done to her and just feels everything he had to offer.
Juan never finds her. She thinks he gave up looking, or maybe just stopped caring. Whatever it is, she doesn't care. As long as she can lie in Cosmo's arms forever, the world can fade away.
With this, her memories come flooding back to her, cascading in a glorious waterfall of caresses, stupidity, and love. She remembers everything from the past millennia, from the day they got married, to the day they got Timmy. It's like a breath of fresh air after drowning, it's so sweet.
Her hair, her outfit, her heart are now whole, healed as though they were never blemished in the first place. She feels alive for the first time in years, ready to love and be loved. With Cosmo at her side, she can do anything, as long as it doesn't involve Juandissimo in any way, shape, or form.
A cloud descends over her and she gasps as it slowly chokes her. No, this is no cloud, this is her sleeping poison, this is what keeps the dream from becoming reality. It is her prison and, no matter how hard she struggles against it, it suffocates her. She cannot escape him...she never will...he will always haunt her, in her dreams...
(Marseilles, 5:00 p.m. standard time)
"You do this to my hideous wife and yet you still seek us out? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!" Anti Cosmo shrieked, all but spitting his coffee in the muscular, narcissist fairy's face. His wife sat beside him, affectionate. The thought made him gag.
"Since you two are the upholders of the spell weaved around my wife, I thought I might as well tell you our new whereabouts. Boston is far too risky, too many people. We're in the last place people would think to look-" Juan began, sipping his scalding hot beverage cautiously. Better not scald his tongue, he needed it to please the ladies.
"And the last place we'd care to," Anti Cosmo snapped back, tempted to throw his cup in his face. Until you fix my wife, I could really care less about where you keep your 'pet'.
Hurriedly, sensing hostility, Juandissimo plodded onward, "We're in the anti fairy's mansion, Lorenzo DeMedici. For the moment, he's located in Dimmsdale, but this may or may not change. At any rate, I know the buffoon won't seek her out there."
"You'd be surprised how much I don't care. You truly would," Anti Cosmo spat, wishing he could chug his drink and go. His wife was taking an abnormally long amount of time with her own, acting as though she were drugged. If Juandissimo had done one more thing to her counterpart that affected her, he swore to God, he'd rip off his balls and grind them into his gel.
"But this affects you too," Juan protested, checking his reflection in the spoon. Such a vain fairy...
"No, how you're screwing around with my wife's health affects me," Anti Cosmo growled, watching his wife conk out on the table. He longed to shove her in his face and scream, See? See what your meddling does?
"I don't know what you think you're doing, but playing God should not be left to such a shallow, selfish bastard like yourself. You're injuring my wife because of your actions, she suffers the same as her counterpart. If you don't watch your step and you keep upping the ante, she'll die," He hissed, his hand brushing hers. Only in emergencies did he show her affection.
"You need not worry about that," Juan said with a small smile. "Once Cosmo is dead, she won't seek him out-"
"Once Cosmo is dead?!" Anti Cosmo thundered, slamming his hands down on the table and causing the beverages to spill off. Pity, both missed him. If only that fairy wore a tie, so he could wrap it about his throat!
"Yes, I plan to ensnare him, force him into a duel, and then he'll clearly lose. Once he's gone, Wanda will be mine completely and-"
"You fool! You arrogant son of a bitch!" Anti Cosmo cursed, dashing around the table and pressing his wand into the fairy's throat. His hand tightened its grip on his shirt.
"If you kill Cosmo, I die as well!" Fury raced through him and the wand sent out a few threatening sparks.
"That's not my concern," Juan said, shrugging his shoulders the best he could what with his grip on him. "I only want what's rightfully mine, Wanda. You did not fill your part of the bargain, therefore I do not care what happens to you."
"Then I don't care what happens to you either," Anti Cosmo spat, throwing him aside. Just the touch of such slime disgusted him. He couldn't stand the sight of him.
"If my counterpart's godchild comes to me and asks me for help locating Wanda, I will help him. If you come after me, I will summon him. You can have your battle wherever you wish, but know that now, it doesn't involve just Cosmo, it involves his godson. People will notice if a fairy kills a godchild, particularly one holding the fabric of the universe together."
With those words, Anti Cosmo gathered Anti Wanda in his arms, kissing her softly on her pale pink face, and they departed. They were switching sides, but it was for the same purpose- survival. And the game was far from over.
(Meanwhile, in the study, Lorenzo DeMedici's mansion, 7:33 a.m. PST)
Today is Tuesday, February 26th, 7:33 a.m. and Lorenzo DeMedici will be absent. Please find a substitute principal and continue with your everyday activities while he berates himself. That will be all.
Glaring glumly at the books set in front of him, Lorenzo stretched with a yawn. Today was boring, nothing interesting. He'd given up on hunting down the fools who sought to capture him; they no longer mattered to him. They couldn't get him anyway, what with the anti fairy wards against the place.
The only things that did matter were currently in school and at home, doing whatever it was they did. In Timmy's case, it was probably making his girlfriend cry, and in Vicky's case...it didn't bear to be thought of. The idea of Mark and Vicky made him cringe, as did any children they might have.
Lately, it seemed as though his whole life revolved around two objects, Timmy and Vicky. He couldn't fathom his attraction to either, but he had to try, or go out of his mind. This was not to say he wasn't out of his mind already, but he grew near the point where even he could not accurately predict his actions.
Timmy Turner was a mystery unto himself. He at least could tell when his obsession began, with the deal. The attraction to him was part lust, part genuine affection, and, a part that frightened him to announce, concern. With every passing day, he grew more and more concerned for the boy's welfare. He wanted him to be happy, although he knew his past actions might have rendered him anything but.
This was why he hadn't physically touched him in the past few months. He discovered his reactions and restrained himself ahead of time. If only Timmy knew how very hard this was...but, on some level, he knew he didn't care. Timmy wanted him out of his life, no matter how much Lorenzo wanted to be in it.
Sighing, he glanced over at a picture, the only one he had of Timmy, Cosmo, and Wanda. In a bad mood previously, Lorenzo had altered the picture, turning it into some bizarre massacre of Wanda. Now, though, he changed it back, observing her and contemplating, his elbow on the text he thought might help Timmy find her.
The book he stole could only locate fairies which weren't hidden from fairy view. Wanda was, he could feel the anti fairy spells 'protecting' her, and that was why the book had 'suddenly', saddened, returned. It was now moping on the top shelf somewhere, but he paid it no mind. Timmy had needed it then and there and that was why his magic decided to dwindle enough to allow him to take it.
No, that wasn't the real reason his magic had begun to dwindle.
Timmy's life force was, as he hadn't regained the weight he'd lost since Lorenzo hadn't realized a lack of food could mean starvation and he was too depressed to eat. He sincerely doubted Cosmo was helping matters, if he helped at all at this point. Lorenzo hadn't seen hide nor hair of him recently, not a good sign. Leafing through Timmy's memories told him Cosmo's uselessness without her, and he'd bet anything this was occurring again, now.
If this was so, he understood Timmy's actions towards the whore. He was taking out all his anger and frustration, rightly, on her and further driving her away. Lorenzo bit back a smile, knowing very well that this could only lead to her fleeing the scene. Well, he would have warned him but; (a), he didn't care, (b), he liked Tootie better when she wasn't within this universe, and (c), he wanted Timmy to himself.
Perhaps he ought to amend c. Timmy wasn't the only one he wanted, another troubling aspect of this now love triangle that only involved him and unrequited love. Timmy was the male he loved, but Vicky was the female.
Vicky, the real reason he had been able to garner such power in the
first place. She'd originally given it to him and although he'd long since used it, it had been helpful in the meanwhile. If only those rotten fairies hadn't interceded...
Returning to Vicky, through Timmy's memories, he found only resentment, fury, and hatred for her. There were no positive emotions invoked by her and this intrigued him originally. She was the only person, including Francis and Crocker, whom he hated with such utmost revulsion. She was the sole reason for Cosmo and Wanda becoming his godparents, for his parents leaving all the time, and for the many cuts and bruises he acquired while under her care.
When he'd hated Timmy, he'd admired Vicky for her tenacity in torturing the 'twerp'. She always had a new, innovative way in which to make his life a living hell, another trick to try. While her grades in school were sub par, he knew where she got her real talent from, maiming others.
She hadn't any friends, of course. Who would want to be friends with such an egomaniacal bitch? The thought made him smile, remembering a brief scuffle in another world, where Vicky had tried to rule the world or something. He didn't really think she had the ability to do it, and, besides, the future had already altered so much, even the one Timmy had seen wasn't liable to happen.
Vicky was a marvelous specimen, or, rather, she used to be. She used to be the bitchiest bitch in all of Dimmsdale, the one people reverently feared. Such power she commanded, especially over the children. While he hated Mark, he had to admit she did incite such terror in them, truly admirable.
All these actions were past tense now, never to occur again. He knew when he'd raped her, he'd stolen her fire, but, at that point in time, it was sorely needed. If only he'd accounted for the Tootie factor, then the rape wouldn't have gone to waste.
Then again, if he had killed Timmy, he wouldn't be in love with him. A bitter smile rose to his face, wondering what he would be missing if he weren't in love with the pink-hatted buffoon with the bucktooth. Although he hated the women in Timmy's life, he took his opinions from them, not from his friends, a disreputable source. Therefore, he scorned his affection with one hand, but embraced it with the other, knowing it not to be for females.
And yet, there again, he returned to Vicky. She was female and he ought to know. She had that passion, that fire, that anger, rarely seen elsewhere. Whenever she babysat Timmy in the earlier years, his heart would leap while his sire's would plummet to his stomach.
If he were indeed in love with Vicky, that meant he couldn't harm her. However, that almost meant he couldn't caress her, feel her silky skin, taste her, or any of the things that Mark did that filled him with such rage. Merely watching him generated more than he thought possible.
Smirking, he pondered again the idea of an expectant Vicky. He had no doubt that Mark would capable, whereas he wasn't. Possessing no genetic material of his own, since his was weaved through Timmy's and Cosmo and Wanda's (from the initial wish), he had nothing to pass on. Essentially, it was as though he'd a vasectomy.
But that wasn't really the point. Lorenzo neither wanted nor liked children. He found them to be needy, greedy pigs, forever dissatisfied. Fairies just fed into this.
Closing his eyes, Timmy's smell filled his nostrils. God, he missed it when he could just pummel him into oblivion sans the conscience. Dammit, he had to return to hating him again, just to become himself again.
After all, he knew what he was before, when he injured him in every which way, so why not try it again? Duel fever was in the air and it had reached him, all the way up the stairs from the basement, where Wanda slept unnoticed. He'd challenge Timmy to a duel and, if he won (but, bare in mind, he couldn't kill him, only mutilate him horribly), he'd have his sense of self back. Yes, that was what he'd do, a duel.
However, a dreadful thought occurred to him. What if he lost? What if Timmy was either too much for him or he conceded defeat? Although he didn't much fancy the idea, he'd best come up with a recourse just in case.
Timmy had been a good boy, albeit a suicidal one. He deserved some sort of reward and, since he hadn't taken to the physical ones as of late, there was always something valuable to him. He would give him this information and then depart, like a will-o-wisp, far, far away.
Sighing, Lorenzo picked up an astray piece of paper and began to pen what would be the invitation to the duel. He was going to be here a while, merely conjecturing on what to say. The pen began to scratch...
(The school courtyard, 7:50 a.m. PST)
Timmy Turner wondered absently if he'd been this talkative when he was her age. Sophie was like an incessant chattering shadow, never letting up for a second. She commented on everything, from the street signs, to the cars. While he had to admit it must be exciting for her to suddenly visit a new place, he longed for her to either shut up or say something important.
For, after all, his mind was on other things. Why, for instance, just when he'd reached out to her, had Tootie run away? He still craved her, yearned to apologize, at least to justify himself, but no, she had to be high strung like that. God, he hoped she hadn't run off into another world like she seemingly had before. He didn't think he could stand another three months without her.
Finally, they halted in the middle of the yard, the children all abuzz about some great occurrence. A few, desperate to get in the school (for only Lorenzo had the key and he, apparently, was missing), yanked on the doors despondently, but to no avail. They simply would not open.
Sophie, apparently realizing she was both outnumbered and outranked, fell blissfully mum. She clung to him, reminding him forcefully of Tootie at that age. A lump arose in his throat and he swallowed hard, recalling his past cruelty.
However, just when he thought he was going to have a brief respite, she babbled on again. No, this wasn't babbling. This was about Wanda and, loath as he was to admit it, he'd better listen to her. After all, she knew more of the situation than he.
With hand gestures (a few ribald ones, as well, he wondered where she'd learned those), she explained the matter. Naturally, she exonerated Wanda for any wrong-doing, since she understood it quite well. Wanda, she sensed, was a compassionate fairy innately and it was Juandissimo, now jaundiced against her, who had altered her personality so significantly. (Of course, these were her words and not his, she'd to 'dumb down' her speech as to allow Timmy to comprehend her).
Stunned, he sat atop a seesaw, scowling as it barely moved under his weight. Briefly, he mused on how much weight he really had lost and scrutinized his arms, displaying his veins prominently. Perhaps he was eating far too little, when he ate at all.
Wanda...I can't believe all that this girl, Sophie, says about her. I don't know if it's that I can't believe it or I don't want to. I don't want to believe my fairy godmother, the only one who ever trusted me after Lorenzo, and continued to beat into my head the sense of right and wrong, is now so jaded herself that she'd sooner snap at me than hug me.
I guess...I wanted her to be normal, to have someone on my side. I need her more than ever, with Tootie away and Cosmo mentally away. There's no one I can turn to or talk to, no one that really understands.
Sure, there are Chester and A.J., but I can't tell them the reason why Lorenzo molested me, nor do I want them to know about it. I...I blame myself for letting him get so close, and I don't need another reminder of how I screwed up. Damn, bad choice of words.
Is it for selfish of me to want to have a mother who loves me? I mean, I know I wanted my own mother back not a while back, but this is different. Now I have no one, nothing...I just want Wanda back...
It's always like this. There's something I always wanted, something more than anything else in the world, and it's snatched out from under me. First it was my parents, then it was Wanda. Am I not meant to have a mother's love?
I was being unreasonable with her, that must be why I lost her. I can't hold onto anything, no matter how hard I try.
Speaking of try, I should have tried harder with Tootie. I drove her away because I couldn't stop blaming her for things that weren't her fault. I couldn't leave well enough alone, and now she's gone.
I really hope she wasn't serious when she said that she was going to die. I never got to tell her that I loved her...
I didn't even tell last night. All I did was find myself in an argument with Cosmo, leave, and then forget completely about Tootie. For the love of God, I went back to sleep!
Lord, I wish I could find her right now and get on bended knee, do whatever it takes to get her back in my arms. I wish I could redo yesterday, just make it so she didn't leave me...what have I done to her?
I'm so stupid! She came to me, wanting nothing more than to be held, and I acted like a complete dick! Why do I have to drive everyone away? Why?
Grabbing his hair, he yanked it in between his fingers, growling, "What the fuck is wrong with me?!"
Unbidden, an image of Tootie, crying, surfaced. His mental image rushed to envelop her, as he knew he should have, but his memory remained cruel and stand offish. Perhaps, if Tootie had become frigid, it was his fault. No, forget perhaps, it was his fault. He and his stupid mouth.
But is my behavior that much different from Juandissimo's? We both hurt the women we love, only I sincerely doubt Juan loves her as much as he said he did. If he did, why would he tear her from the only happiness she's ever known?
If I really love Tootie, why would I deny her the only happiness she could attain?
Dammit, this is all so circular! No matter what I think, it returns to her, who may never return. At least if I'd been nicer, I could have seen her off and hold her right now.
Wonder if that's why Wanda broke it off with Juandissimo. Was he so cruel to her that she was driven into another man's arms? Will that happen with Tootie?
I wish I'd be nicer to both of them, dammit! I don't even remember my last words to Wanda! All I remember is being angry at Cosmo...
Yet, the memories of what Tootie said to me are still fresh. Lover's spat, that'll be the last thing she'll remember. Nothing else, nothing good, nothing to keep her warm at night.
Didn't Cosmo and Wanda have a fight before she was kidnapped? I can only imagine how horrible that must have been, but the problem is she no longer remembers him and he can't focus on the present. I guess if both were in possession of their faculties, it would matter more.
Releasing his breath, Timmy sighed, hugging his arms to his chest.
I regret everything I do. I regret the deal, I regret taking Wanda and Cosmo for granted, I regret treating Tootie like shit...what the hell is wrong with me, anyway?
At least I'm not as bad as Juandissimo. God, I'd love to get my hands on him and ask him what the hell he was thinking, doing this to Wanda. Doesn't he care about her welfare? Doesn't he love her?
Heh, but the one who has the strongest case against him is Cosmo. If Cosmo's capable of fighting back, I bet he'll really wallop him. Maybe even kill him...
Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Timmy spun around to see Gary glaring at him. Pure fury burned in his eyes, and his fists were clenched. He bet he knew what this was about.
"Well, well, Tim-Tim's here, but where's Toot?" Gary sneered, his eyes narrowed. Timmy narrowed his eyes too, far from pleased. He did not want to deal with this right now.
"Look, Gary," Timmy snapped, "if you want to piss me off, why don't you wait until, I don't know, hell freezes over?"
"Hell did freeze over, Tim-Tim. Tootie went through hell to get here and then she iced over. Imagine that. You ruined her homecoming so thoroughly, she ran away." He hissed, easily his sire to his feet. Vehemently livid would not even being to describe his emotions right now. Every time he saw him, his fervent anger reached a fever pitch. Nothing would please him more than to cram an enormous, jagged object down his throat.
"Tootie ran away because of you. She wanted you to love her and you didn't. You were just your usual selfish self. You-"
"How the hell do you know she went through hell to see me?" Folding his arms across his minute chest, he glowered reproachfully at his imaginary friend turned real.
"She came home with whip marks spreading across her chest to her stomach. (I know, I bandaged her.). Don't b.s. me an' tell me that's fun! You're so wrapped up in your own little world, you're lettin' Toot get hurt!
"And I bet that was startin' to heal until you tore it open again! Do you know how much grief you're causin' her? And I don't care if you're not the one who gave her the original injury, you're just as bad if not worse. You're her 'true love' and you can't see past your own 'pain' to help her.
"I saw her run off. She was mutterin' about you, Tim-Tim, how you called her a crybaby and threatened her. If I wasn't already too late, I'd have stopped her and comforted her.
"That's right, I'd comfort her. Just like I bandaged her, I held her, and I cared for her. Unlike you, standin' around and bitchin'. Guess what, no one cares 'bout you!"
Lowering his head, Timmy offered no resistance, no objective. Instead, as he had before, he permitted him to berate him. He deserved more than a tongue lashing.
Sophie, hanging back, listened intently. With every righteous word, she amassed a greater knowledge of the situation. So Wanda's godson carried some emotional baggage; she wondered what.
"I have no idea what the fuck your problem is and I don't care. Get over it, shape up or ship out, because just because you're her boyfriend doesn't give you the right to treat her like shit. She could always leave you and I hope she does- you don't deserve her.
"But I do. When she comes back and if you treat you did yesterday, she's mine. Fuck telepathy, you aren't worthy of speakin' in her mind, much less claimin' to love her. I deserve her because I care about her and I can't say the same for you," Gary finished, pounding his shoulder into Timmy's and shoving him backwards.
Mouth agape, dumbfounded, he watched him walk away, hissing, "I'm keepin' an eye on you."
Sophie glanced at both but remained stoic. In her mind, she formed opinions and calculated the situation. Things got a whole lot more interesting...
(Not too far from Wanda's location, 9:45 a.m. PST)
Shutting his eyes, Remy intoned an incantation he'd procured through one of the many missing books in Lorenzo's library. This particular spell was a cakewalk compared to some of the more intricate ones, since it merited little more than a mental image of the ones he wished to summon. Unfortunately, due to Lorenzo's presence, he found his attention span wavering. Lorenzo, despite his malevolence, was so attractive it made him lose focus quickly.
Thoughts circulated through his mind, vengeful thoughts about how to best eliminate the competition. He wondered if Lorenzo's influence was steadily increasing because notions he never would have considered before became fair game. Or, should he say, fairy game.
One thing was for certain, however, he needed Juandissimo. Correction, he craved him. And, if Anti Cosmo and Wanda's spells sufficed to make Wanda love him, then they ought to work for Remy.
"Je regarde pour quelqu'un qui faut trouver
(I look for someone who must be found)
"Trouve ils, aucune matière quoi
(Find them, no matter what)
"Taches faut faire, choses faut accomplier
(Tasks must be done, things must be accomplished)
"Et temps develop petit (And time grows short)
"M'envoye toi!"
(Bring them to me)
In a cloud of pink and dark blue infused with green, Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda appeared, appalled at some great action but what it was he had no idea. Anti Wanda was unconscious and clasped tightly in her husband's arms, face contorted in rage. Hmm, when he'd summoned them, he must have interrupted something, but if he had, what on earth could it have been? Nah, never mind, he didn't particularly care.
Frowning slightly, Anti Cosmo pivoted in mid air to regard Remy. He shivered, sensing a yet to awake cruelty, perhaps even surpassing Lorenzo's. He also gathered, as did his counterpart, who only on occasion received these, a premonition of a hollow body, devoid of a soul. Good Lord, this boy gave him the creeps.
"I need to know where Wanda is," Remy said coldly, jumping right to business. He didn't want to waste time when there were things to do. Besides, pronouncing those French words had taken a while.
"Do you now?" Anti Cosmo retorted, still scrutinizing him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to give him a proper answer. If he did give him a blow off, would he live to tell the tale? He was weary of pissing off the wrong people.
"And I know you know where she is," Remy continued, his eyes narrowed. What was the problem? Why couldn't he just say where she was? God, he hated when people, or, rather, anti fairies, gave him the run around.
"So what if I do?" Anti Cosmo said, arching an eyebrow
"So," Remy growled, "I need to know. Tell me."
Smiling wickedly, Remy's eyes fell upon a particularly difficult and powerful incantation, a sufficient reason for the anti fairy to reveal his information if he'd ever seen one. Even if he couldn't handle it as of yet, Anti Cosmo didn't know that. And he could see his eyes sliding over to the spell as well.
"She's hidden within these walls," Anti Cosmo said. "I can take you to her, if you wish. She's not far from here, beyond a hidden staircase behind the bookcase in this room, down the stairs, and along a long corridor. When you reach the end, there is a room encased in glass. She lies within it, sealed within its walls."
Nodding curtly, he dismissed them, neglecting to examine the doorway. Lorenzo, arms folded, regarded him, the newly acquired information revolving in his mind. Well, well, now he had something to pad the invitation with, didn't he?
But while Lorenzo thought about this, Remy's thoughts were far darker. He knew what must be done now, he must eliminate the competition permanently. Before Cosmo got there, before anyone else did, he'd kill Wanda. Then Juandissimo would be his...forever.
(Timmy's living room, 5:45 p.m. PST)
Timmy hadn't spoken to her when he came home. That was fine by her, since she wanted nothing to do with him anyway. Mark sat on the chair adjacent, keeping blissfully silent. Before Tootie left, she'd left a letter for her to read and Timmy, practically spitting, threw it at her face before disappearing into his room. She unfolded it now, scanning its contents before seriously reading it.
Dear Vicky, (it read)
I bet you're wondering why I was gone for three months. As much as I'd love to tell you (and keep from being slapped around again), I can't. It's not only against the rules I have, I might possibly jeopardize others by revealing that information.
I can tell you this is a mission of the utmost importance. I can also tell you this is also a life or death situation, where I have a good chance of dying. Therefore, if I don't return, you'll know why.
I'm glad for the little time we had together, when you weren't being Icky Vicky on me. I hope you don't get too involved with Mark, though I bet you will anyway. Just don't have too many kids, okay? I'm not sure how far a Yugopotamian education will get you here.
I want to say that I love you, but I can't seem to feel it. And, as you know, I rarely say things I don't mean. So, I guess for now, I don't hate you. I hope that's enough, because that's all I have to offer.
Oh, and if I don't come back, I give you express permission to slap Timmy upside the head for being such a dick. Don't ask, the world in general is safer not knowing.
Forever your 'dorky little sister',
Tootie
Sighing heavily and pressing back tears with the palm of her hand, Vicky glanced out the window and watched the sunset. Little did she know others were watching it too, some lamenting their recent actions, some plotting murder, some engaged, although they did not yet know it, in a duel, and one trapped in a slumber so deep, she might never wake.
So much for the fairy tale life.