Part Two
Ripples
Chapter One: The Exile
She had no name she wished to tell the stranger. After a while, no one had asked, either. There was something cold and haunting in her pink eyes, yet oddly familiar. When a semblance of her name had started on their lips, she glowered and then vanished quickly. She was dead to the world.
She hugged her cloak tightly and wended through the crowded streets. Despite an Overlooking spell and the size of the crowd, she felt watched, oppressed. It made no sense. She had transported herself to a remote area, dropped out of normal life and became a non entity. According to Fairy World's documentation, she was dead. And this was how she liked it.
Her father didn't know she'd divorced Cosmo. The only creatures, human or no, that knew were Timmy, Tootie, Cosmo, Anti Wanda, the judge, and Blonda. No one else needed to know. This was her problem and only she could fix it in time. Until that day came, magic and money were her companions.
None addressed her, so a name wasn't necessary. From what she had learned, telling others your name was the first step to having it sullied.
For a moment, she thought she spied Juandissimo and she froze, crouching against a wall and waiting for him to pass. Spell or not, he had a talent for ferreting her out.
Darting out when she thought he wasn't looking, she accidentally knocked into a merchant, who, despite not seeing her, cursed bitterly. Panicking, she prepared to vanish quickly, but a hand on her arm halted her. The spell had worked for everyone except the fairy she was trying to elude. All the bad luck in the world had landed on her doorstep.
"Mi amor?" Juan murmured, snatching her wand out of her fingers.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken," Wanda whispered. I'm no one's love.
He brushed aside her drawn down hood, revealing her lined face and weary eyes. His eyes sought hers, but she glanced away. All she wanted was to be left alone. Couldn't he see that? Why did he have to act like he cared?
"Wanda…" he breathed, caressing her cheek. She stiffened. She couldn't flee, not with him holding her wand. Still, there was always running. She remembered running with Cosmo...no...bad thoughts...
"Give me back my wand," she ordered, clenching her eyes shut. She wanted to crash into him and let him give her the affection and, at the same time, she wanted to shove him far away so he could never use her like everyone else did.
"No."
He pocketed it and his as well.
She shuddered, enraged, but, before she could express it, it faded away. She was too tired to be angry. Let him do whatever he wanted, no matter what. When he was done, she'd go back to her old life, staring out the window and waiting for her miserable existence to end.
"Fine," Wanda said quietly. "Don't give it back."
Juandissimo stared and the hand on her cheek froze in mid stroke.
"No, not fine," Juandissimo snapped. "Show me your spirit, mi amor. Show me that you haven't become this."
"I just want to get home. As far as Fairy World is concerned, I'm dead anyway," Wanda said, gazing in the direction of her tiny house. Maybe he'd stop if she looked pathetic enough. After all, she wasn't the fairy he'd fallen in love with. She wasn't a fairy anyone could love.
"No!" he barked and, grabbing her shoulders, he shook her head enough for her teeth to rattle. "You are not dead! You are alive and you shall live!"
"Let go of me," she growled, placing her hands on top of his arms and shoving him away.
"Not until you cease this charade," Juandissimo replied and Wanda glared. She was furious with him...and she didn't know quite why.
"It isn't a charade!" she retorted and the roots of her hair burned. "Give me back my wand!"
"Tell me who did this to you!" Juan snapped back and, in his pocket, a wand dangled. Seeing her chance, she dove at it. Juandissimo pushed her away, knocking her off balance. The wand fell out and he crushed it beneath the heel of his foot. The star ground against the stone and sparks flew. They sputtered and died a moment later.
"It was the buffoon, was it not? Do not defend him!" Juan hissed. A few passerby gawked, since, with Wanda's Overlooking spell, Juandissimo appeared to be arguing with the air.
"It was..." she trailed off and swallowed hard. A lump formed in her throat.
She willed herself not to cry in front of him. Crying was bad enough, but in front of him, unforgivable.
"He has hurt you," Juan remarked, enveloping her in a hug that took her breath away.
"No. We just, we just decided that it was best to spend some time apart..." she lied and, judging by the livid expression on his face, not very well, either. She trembled and balled her fists. If only for the wand beneath his foot...
"You are lying and protecting him, the moron that broke your heart," Juan growled, massaging her back. She jumped and glanced again toward her small house. She needed the wand...and escape...
"I, I'm not protecting him," Wanda lied again and he pulled out the remaining wand. The familiar whoosh of fairy transport yanked them both forward and she blinked, surprised Juandissimo knew exactly where she lived.
The small house was bare, save for Cosmo's picture on her night table. The white walls were bleak, complimenting her mood, and a small cot pushed against the far wall was equally unadorned.
Juandissimo growled and Wanda pivoted, noticing the Latino fairy's gaze. Shimmering heat filled the room; it set her hair on end and echoed within her. Within seconds, the photograph and its frame had been burned to a crisp. Juandissimo hadn't even used his wand.
"Mi amor, I have heard rumors that Cosmo cheated on you with your counterpart."
Wanda shuddered and clenched her eyes shut again. She remembered that all too well.
Another magical jerk brought her from her place near the door and into Juandissimo's arms. The other fairy had positioned himself on her bed; his wand laid on a nearby table. She could sense the magic, even with her eyes closed. Its lure was almost as compelling as Juandissimo's, but she refused to capitulate. She refused to be whatever he envisioned her to be. That fairy was dead now.
But the present would not let the past be. And only one source of information could have done that to her...only one dared betray her...
"Blonda..."
"Si, your sister told me."
Performing a cross between a shake and a nod, she resigned herself to her fate in his arms and gazed up at the ceiling.
Scowling at her, he toyed with her hair and kissed her on the forehead. He might as well have been kissing a wall. Except the wall was whimpering and struggling to conceal it.
"Wanda, you can cry to me," he whispered, but she shook her head. One wand remained, but that was all she needed. The thought never occurred to her that lately, all she did was hit and run.
Tootie stared at the lifeless ball of clay before her. She'd never felt less inspired.
She wished Timmy was in this class and then wished he lived in another state. She'd never gotten over her childhood crush, no matter how much she pretended otherwise. Pretending to hate him was so much easier than 'fessing up to the fact that she'd never have him. With Trixie Tang, Tootie might as well not exist.
Thinking of that, she punched a hole into the clay. A boy sitting next to her gulped and moved away. She was Vicky's little sister after all. No one knew when she might snap. Already, there'd been several close calls. For all they knew, Tootie might go on a murderous rampage and slaughter everything in sight.
Although her mind was on murderous rampage, her hands were not. They sculpted a figure with large eyes, welled with tears, and half open arms, as if afraid to love. Tootie smiled bitterly, unable for some fathomable reason to determine why such a figure had appeared to her subconscious. She felt like she had met this unfortunate soul, but when?
She finished with a flourish, entitling the piece "Tears of a Fairy" and sitting it atop the iron shelves in the back for storage. She had an unsettling sense of deja vu and, while she gathered her things, she fixated on it. She knew this creature. But it had wings. Surely, that was impossible.
Shouldering her bag, she walked straight into her beloved antagonist, Timmy Turner. His eyes were unfocused and he muttered a name. It tugged at her subconscious, but she said nothing about it. Instead, she scowled.
"Maybe if you spent a little more time studying and a little less time chasing Trixie Tang, you'd have better grades," she snapped. "You're sixteen and she still doesn't like you. You're pathetic, twerp."
Timmy lifted his head and stared at her. The instant before he replaced misery with anger, Tootie regretted her words. She hated him for breaking her heart and chasing Trixie. But she knew, deep down, that pushing him away wasn't going to make anyone's life any easier. Unfortunately, her mouth had a different opinion.
"Says the girl that's got the half the male population trailing after her," Timmy retorted. His blue eyes flashed and he strode faster, away from her. She easily kept up the pace and he glared, dispensing another insult for her trouble.
"How many blow jobs did you have to give to accomplish that one?"
Tootie's eyes prickled with hot tears, but she wouldn't let him see that. Instead she kept her head haughtily high and retorted, "All the imaginary ones Trixie never gave you."
"At least she has standards," Timmy hissed. "You'll do anyone with a cock and balls.""I haven't done you," she shot back and her cheeks flushed. Timmy didn't notice.
"That's because I'm not into sluts," he said coolly. She balled her fists and glared blindly, hoping that they'd run into Trixie and she could humiliate him in front of her. That would rob him of another brownie point in her book, supposing he had any in Trixie's book to start with.
"Then how do you explain Trixie?" Tootie said, hands on her hips. Her long raven hair brushed her waist and, beneath her hands, the hem of her black skirt swished slightly.
"She's not a know-it-all, whored-out slut like you with a bitch for a sister," Timmy snapped back. He took a step closer and Tootie noticed vaguely that they were near the principal's office. This couldn't end well.
"Leave Vicky out of this!" she retorted and he scoffed.
"Why? Because you're just like her?" he growled. "You were creepy when you were ten and now you're freaky."
"I am not a freak!" she said, raising her voice. Timmy, unperturbed, matched his level to hers.
"You service more guys than a mechanic does cars, you've inherited the 'bitch' gene, and you're just as creepy now as you were then!" Timmy snapped.
"And you're just as bratty, self centered, cocky, naive, unappreciative, rude, and stupid as you were when you were ten!" Tootie retorted, hands on her hips. By now, their little argument had gathered an audience. Timmy's eyes, however, remained on hers. So did someone else's.
"Enough!" the principal called and pointed to the guilty parties. "My office!
They proceeded to argue in the waiting room and Tootie lost track of their insipid conversation even as she participated in it. They had sunk so low, both of them. She loved him, but what of it now? It made no difference.
In the end, they would only bring each other pain and misery if they headed down this path. Her mouth and his attitude had made sure of that.
Big Daddy paced, pink eyes shooting off warning sparks. When that idiot Binky came back, he'd have to have a very violent meeting about making fairies wait, especially over something this important. No one screwed with the Don in Fairy World. He made people's problems disappear...if they knew what it meant.
"That sprite better get here soon," he growled, randomly shooting whatever the sparks in his wand hit. A few fairies ducked for cover and he smirked. They should remember who was boss. And when Binky got back, Big Daddy would deliver that memo personally.
There was nothing left to do but sit here and wait. He had tried eating, but nothing would settle in his stomach. He had tried drinking alcohol to soothe his nerves, but, if the Mafia Don could be so easily placated, there would be less unexplained deaths in Fairy World.
Binky returned, quivering and holding out a note taken from Fairy World's filing system, containing information on the whereabouts of every known fairy in the universe. The last item in the note caught his attention.
"She's dead?" Big Daddy roared, his outrage shattering several vases. "My daughter's dead? I'll kill who's responsible for this!"
Pounding his fist against the floating table, he caused the legs to collapse. His Wanda was dead. He would destroy whomever was responsible for this.
And then what? What would he do? Someone had taken his beautiful Wanda away from him, just like someone had taken his wife from him...
Yet, according to the note, there had been no body. And a mysterious fairy had filed the report. She had been wearing a brown cloak with a pink curl dangling out of the hood. A pink curl...
He scanned the note again and caught something else. Wanda had quit godparenting and separated from Cosmo before 'dying'. That meant Cosmo had had something to do with this. If he had broken Wanda's heart, Big Daddy would have his head on a silver platter.
The fairy with the pink curl dangling out...While pink hair wasn't uncommon amongst fairies, Big Daddy wasn't paranoid for no reason. He knew a cover up when he saw it. He also knew heart break when he read it and if Wanda had gone into hiding because of Cosmo...
Yet, before he tackled the task of beheading Cosmo and placing his trophy atop the mantelpiece, he needed to find a more lethal weapon than what he had on hand. While he did have a great deal of impressive ones, it was always good have variety. A small market place on the outskirts of a particular city ought to do the trick.
Soft sobbing directed his attention away from a magical flamethrower and to a lake, where a fairy sat by herself near the water's edge. She reminded him of someone and he approached cautiously, just in case she happened to be a relative of a hit. Dealing with family members grated on his nerves- they were always so upset. Well, if they loved their kids, they wouldn't let them screw with the mafia. Not that hard a lesson to learn. But they were always complaining about "lack of morals and ethics", to the point where he often killed them if only to shut them up.
The fairy's pink curls poured out of her hood and he halted, breath catching. He sat down beside her, shredding a flower into the water. Tears streamed down her face and she'd stop once in a while to hug herself. He'd never seen such a sad creature in his life. He knew those curls. He knew that sob.
"Wanda," he said sternly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumped before searching for her wand, already in her father's hand. He knew her well enough to tell when she wanted to flee a tough situation. He had to prevent her doing it by any means necessary; she had to know why he was here.
"I'm not-" She started, but then, touching her face, she realized her cloak had not hidden enough and her curls dangled in clear sight.
"Why did you write a false report and pretend you were dead?" Big Daddy said calmly, trying very hard not to lose his temper immediately. The hand on her shoulder increased pressure. If he lost control, he might accidentally break his daughter's shoulder blades, but, that had only happened once.
Wanda attempted to turn away, but the pressure was too great. She gritted her teeth and gazed at her father. There was no fear in those familiar pink eyes. If he had been less enraged, maybe he would have questioned that.
"How badly did that idiot hurt you?" he growled, squeezing her shoulder still harder. She said nothing, though her face contorted with pain. Very faintly, he heard her whimper. Still, a whimper wasn't an answer and again he squeezed, tightening his grip until she cried out.
"Daddy!"
While it hadn't accomplished what he wanted, he had learned enough here to use it elsewhere. He rose to his feet and muttered unkind things about Cosmo. While he couldn't hurt Cosmo while Wanda protected her ex husband, Big Daddy couldn't understand why she'd done so in the first place. Cosmo had clearly done nothing to deserve it.
"I want to know what Cosmo said and did that made you try to erase yourself from Fairy World's memory banks," Big Daddy said and Wanda cringed. He grimaced and, against his better judgment, switched tactics. For his next question, he spoke softly.
"What happened?"
There was silence and she said, as if speaking to herself, "It was nothing...It was all me...I wasn't good enough. I couldn't make him love me."
Big Daddy stared, stunned at his daughter's defeatist attitude. His hand slackened and, during his brief moment of shock, Wanda vanished. Flowers and tears littered the ground. One look at them and he vowed that Cosmo would never live to see another sunset.