Disclaimer: I don't own it. I don't own anything except my baby, Lorenzo. Oh, and Sophie, who isn't in this chapter…

Chapter Five: In Heat

Tootie was soaked from head to toe. Moreover, she could see, as the rain began to taper off, a figure sitting, also soaked, on the doorstep. Her heart sank into the depths of her stomach. Great, just what she needed, another version of Vicky, this one her own, to pester her.

Swallowing hard, she gently shoved Gary away before slowly approaching the step. He gave her a look that said quite plainly he wouldn't be treated in this manner, but she shoved him again, this time into a puddle, and he glowered at her before leaving. How dare she treat him like this!

If looks could kill, this one would send her spiraling into an early grave, but she ignored it. Besides which, she didn't want him to see the possible beating she might have at the hands of her 'beloved' sister. She knew she wouldn't be able to escape unscathed, but she wished to slink away afterwards.

Vicky was indeed pounding a fist into her hand, her pregnancy evident as her stomach was quite swollen. Then again, this was nothing compared to how haggard her face was nor how exhausted she appeared. Were she not capable of great acts of violence, Tootie would pity her.

Mark was nowhere to be seen, presumably in some place dry. She immediately envied him, safe from Vicky's wrath for the moment and probably nursing his wounds. Then again, he probably got the brunt of her rage since he was around her the most. Part of her wished she'd never come back.

After all, if she hadn't come back, she wouldn't have to contend with her rage nor the fact that Timmy obviously hated her right now. If he didn't, he wouldn't have even thought of suicide, because just the notion of him dying on her tore her up inside. Tears sprung to her face again and, in the light of the fading rain, Vicky saw them clearly.

Damn it, she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry, though. All the walk over here that was what she did. She couldn't stop crying, like a leaky faucet.

She hadn't felt the tug at her mind, so she knew at least he hadn't gone through with it. Unbidden, recollections of the What-If Spell struck her and she swallowed hard, recalling what it'd been like to see herself commit suicide in front of him. She hoped to whomever was listening he wasn't waiting just to reenact that part.

After all, she'd been through, she wasn't sure she could stand it if something happened to him. Even if he hated her, even if he was suicidal, she needed him so badly. Right now, she was certain she'd do anything he asked of her, if only it meant keeping him alive.

Timmy… Tootie whimpered in thoughtspeak, aware that Vicky had risen from the steps and was now approaching her, pounding a fist into her palm. She wasn't sure he could hear her, but, if he could, maybe he'd tell her something good for a change. Not that she was asking for a lot, but an apology and an 'I love you' would suffice.

"Where the hell were you?" Vicky burst out, slamming Tootie to the ground before she had time to react. Stunned, she skidded into the driveway and banged her head against the pavement. Even if weeds had begun to grow, it still hurt like a bitch.

A thousand replies came to her head, but, then, she remembered what Jorgen had told her. Only one human and one fairy could learn of her escapades, no one else. If she told Vicky, then she couldn't tell Timmy. And, simply put, that wasn't an option.

More than anything, he had to know the truth of why she was there. If she could tell him everything, share with him her memories and then use the transistor to verify them, he'd love her again. He'd hold her in his arms and tell her that she need never return to those horrid places, that if they wanted her to fight, they'd have to go through him first. Even though she was hardly a damsel in distress, it'd be nice to have them yell at him for a change.

Plus, then she could finally relax. No more tensions, no more thoughts of what to do or say so Timmy wouldn't react badly. Everything would be sheer bliss…and she would have the only person she ever wanted to kiss away her fears.

Therefore, there was no way in a frozen hell she'd ever tell Vicky where she was. She could beat the living shit out of her, but she wouldn't say a word. The truth was reserved for Timmy and Timmy only. Besides, she could always tell Vicky later, if she was allowed to. She wasn't the most important person in her life, anyway.

The sky opened up and another downpour commenced, causing Tootie to choke as water poured into her mouth. Rain soaked her to the bone, or so it felt, and she wanted nothing more than for this ordeal to be over so she could find him. Vicky could shove her around all she wanted (within reason), but, when she had her fun, then she'd be free to leave.

"Answer me, you little whore!" Vicky roared and, in a second, Tootie recalled Katrina.

Patty cake, patty cake, baker's man. Bake me a whore as fast as you can…

Tootie reared up, roaring in anger. Vicky became Victoria, Loreto's right-hand girl. Other than the fact Vicky clearly didn't have any magical powers, she could be a clone. More anger surged through her and her heartbeat raced.

A very dangerous look crept into Tootie's eyes then, and, were Vicky not under the influence of yet another mood swing, she'd back away. Murder displayed itself prominently- Tootie had never quenched her thirst for vengeance in that world. Loreto, instead, had managed to beat her senseless. If she recalled right, after what Cal told her, that version of Wanda had saved the day while she lay unconscious.

Before her, she saw only versions of The Other that she had fought and, with anger surging through her veins and rendering her inebriated, she attacked. Limbs flailed everywhere, but it was nothing to the furious words being uttered under her breath. What was on earth was going on? When had Tootie gone insane?

Not only that, but if she persisted, she'd give her a miscarriage. She'd better think of something, and quick. (Not to mention she still wanted to kick her ass for disappearing on her).

A small, brown rod stuck out of Tootie's pocket and, as she lunged, Vicky snatched it. In her hands, it became a wand, rendering Tootie confused long enough for her to strike. Hmm, she didn't know humans could use magic. Oh, well, another problem for another day.

Taking advantage of her newly disorientated state, she slammed hard into her, shoving her against the garage door and, then, punched her in the face. Tootie cried out, reaching for the transistor, but Vicky held it, and, surprisingly, it pinned her to the door. Well, whatever this little device was, it sure was handy.

Rage filled her sister as she struggled against the magic of the transistor, but she couldn't budge an inch. It converted to a baton in Vicky's hands, all the while still pinning her to the door. She swallowed hard, aware of just how dire her straits were right now.

Tootie? Timmy sent and his message caught her off guard. Sorrow, mingled with regret, laced his telepathy.

What on earth could he be regretting, though? Was he lamenting her return? Or, no, the obvious answer was- someone had stopped him. Whoever it was, she thanked them from the bottom of her heart, yet she sincerely doubted Timmy felt the same.

As though coming back from a mission mentally and physically exhausted wasn't bad enough, now she had to contend with him. If what she'd seen before was correct, she'd soon be wishing she hadn't mouthed off to Jorgen and could just spend the rest of her life on various missions. After all, at least there, nothing was permanent and, if she didn't like the situation, she need only spend a day in that universe. Here, the torment was never-ending.

Speaking of never-ending, when had Vicky become so cruel? Well, yes, she'd always been cruel, but today, it seemed she'd taken things up a notch. Despite the fact that her entire front was soaked from the recent downpour, she made no effort to go inside and change and instead decided to spend her time berating her. As though it was her fault Jorgen had appointed her to be Fairy World's bitch.

Why had he chosen her, over all others? What was so special about her? Or did he just find it amusing to play around with some random kid's emotions and then shove them into places they didn't belong? How about wreak some havoc on their relationships and then turn them into a monster? Sure, that sounded like fun.

Anger blazed in her eyes, but she sincerely doubted Vicky noticed. Although she continued to lunge at her, her thoughts continually shifted to one area- Jorgen. No matter how you sliced it, he was using her. How dare he!

Cal called her a missionary, but missionaries got paid. So far, the only thing she'd received was isolation from her boyfriend, hatred from her sister, and a general feeling of being unwanted. Where was her payoff for putting her life and her relationships on the line? Where was her payoff for losing her childhood like that? What right did he have to thrust her into a situation where she had utterly no idea how to handle herself and yet, he didn't care? Who the hell decided it was all right to just shove children into a battle arena?

That's all she was, when it came down to it, a child. All she wanted to do was relax and play around, like the kid she'd been oh-so long ago. Yet, this chance had been denied her, simply because Jorgen had to fuck around with her life. The more she thought about it, the more she hated him.

Like a boiling pot, the anger bubbled and steamed within her. Vicky might have disliked her for 'abandoning her and leaving her to her own devices', but the resentment within Tootie was so strong, it was nearly palpable. In fact, if she bit her lip, the blood racing through it, in her mind, was so hot, it nearly burned. How long had she harbored such hatred? She had no idea, but it was time to fight back.

No one should be allowed to push her around, least of all her shitty, pregnant sister. She'd taken her abuse for long enough without saying a word, but she simply couldn't take it anymore. There was a time and a place for everything, but Tootie wasn't that little girl that she loved to screw over royally. If she thought she was just a pushover, then she was greatly mistaken- Tootie was a force to be reckoned with.

And so was the transistor, she realized suddenly. Vicky tossed it back and forth between her hands, its form shifting at first into the scythe she'd used to murder Lorelei, then the whip Loreto had used on her, and, finally, a representation of Katrina. Before she could reformulate her anger, her rage against the system that had used her and abused her, Vicky struck.

First, the whip tore into her frame and, once again, she felt the white hot pain, like being branded with an iron, tear into her abdomen. Vicky showed no mercy, merely smirking as Tootie attempted to flee her attack. The whip caught her wherever Vicky deigned, including her hands, the side of her face, and, if she hadn't ducked, it would have broken her neck. That particular near miss stole the breath from her lungs.

The transistor transformed into the scythe, but Vicky discarded it as soon as it appeared. Were she to kill Tootie, she'd prefer it was by accident and not intentional. For the meanwhile, she'd pretend she still had some affection for the girl (which she did, it was just buried under resentment and scapegoating her for everything).

Swiftly, the transistor transformed into a baton that Vicky raised against her sister. Tootie, fortunately, had the common sense to duck and quickly move out of the way, this time jumping up to try to retrieve her weapon. Although she was growing (as most adolescents begin to), she still came up short against her sister. With a sweeping motion, Vicky caught her in mid-jump and flung her against the garage door.

However, if she thought that would deter her, she was far from correct. Fury shone in her eyes and she'd no sooner landed then launched a counter attack, kicking under Vicky's feet and attempting to knock her down. Vicky jumped up, narrowing avoiding her strike.

Nonetheless, jumping, in her state, was not a great idea and she groaned, clutching her stomach. Despite her resentment, queasiness now claimed her and she glowered at her sister; her fingers wrapped about the transistor, transforming into a net that paralyzed Tootie to the door. Struggling did no good, as it appeared to be a variation on the Chinese finger trap.

Tootie, bereft of any other action, spat in her face. She had the unsettling feeling as though something she didn't wish to discuss would suddenly come flying out and wanted to, therefore, avoid any entanglements. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Mark approaching and she hoped, through some sheer stroke of luck, that Vicky would be detained long enough for Tootie to get some vengeance.

"Now, where were you?" Vicky snapped coolly, eyes narrowed in anger. She had yet to wipe off the saliva from her right cheek, a fact that made her smirk. It continued to drip down her face, yet she pretended as though it didn't exist.

No answer issued forth from her, not being of a stupidity to voice what she could only tell one human and one fairy, and so, seizing upon her innermost thoughts, a shockwave ensued. Tootie bit back a cry of pain; this time as what felt like the equivalent of a hundred volts zipped through her body. She had no doubt that as the answers grew less to Vicky's satisfaction, she'd be in more pain. How fit for Vicky to use such methods, but she wouldn't learn anything. Not if she had anything to do with it.

"It's none of your damn business," Tootie hissed, unable to do much other than leer and spit again. Once again, Vicky ignored it. Surely she knew how angry she was making her, but, in all likelihood, she didn't give a damn.

Unfortunately, this was nowhere near sufficient and she bit back another howl as a more painful shockwave shook her. Think of anything, anywhere but this, that was the ticket. Just pretending that Vicky wasn't there would do wonders, wouldn't it?

"I think it is," Vicky hissed, shoving against her. The ironic thing was she couldn't put herself face to face because her abdomen had swollen. Still, the leer she gave her was far from mildly hostile. Tootie supposed the viciousness burning in her eyes had to make do for the little she could do physically to her without harming herself in the aftermath.

Tootie soon discovered that, at the end of a long day, she had little control over her mouth. Even though Vicky temporarily wielded all the power in this situation, she was just too sick of everything and everyone else to really give a damn what happened to her. As far as she was concerned, everyone could just go to Hell in a hand basket.

"I think you need to fuck off, bitch," Tootie growled, struggling again only to have the net give off triple the normal amount. Grand, now she saw stars, but that didn't mean she was going to submit to this type of torture. Perhaps she'd have the good fortune to pass out before Vicky got any answers out of her.

Vicky growled herself, more out of frustration than anything else, and punched Tootie through the net (which was only solid on her side), in the abdomen, already tender from another whip mark she herself had dealt. Pain filled her, yet she strove not to cry out, not to make a sound. Giving her the satisfaction of knowing she hurt her would only make the pain worse, not better. Not to mention the stigma of letting her sister win would only increase with time.

"Don't ever talk to me like that," She snarled, grabbing a pigtail and yanking it as hard as she could. Her eyes watered, yet she cried not. Vicky didn't deserve to know how much she was hurting her, didn't deserve anything.

"Make me stop," Tootie replied, only it was more of a whimper. She cursed herself mentally, hating that she'd stooped to this level. Even so, everything ached. God, what a bitch.

"I'm going to ask you one more time then I'm going to make you scream. How do you think your precious Timmy will feel, already suicidal, when he hears you cry out? He can't protect you, so why not just let him wallow in misery? I'm sure he already does," Vicky spat, grabbing both of her pigtails and yanking so hard, Tootie cried out involuntarily. As soon as she did, she slapped her hard across the face, leaving red prints, and then the net zapped her again.

"Leave Timmy out of this!" She screamed, tears springing to her eyes. Again, she saw Mark, but he hung back. Why on earth wasn't he stopping her? Didn't he care?

Then, again, out of the corner of her eye, movement in the window above her. Timmy was watching her…he had heard her scream out. Great, just great. He'd probably find some way to twist it into her fault. Like she'd brought it upon herself to make Vicky torture her.

"Not unless you tell me where you went," Vicky hissed, taking out a pair of scissors from her pocket and holding it precariously close to her hair. Fine, let her cut it, she didn't care. Just so long as she cut it and then gave up, shoving her to the side in light of her pregnancy or whatever. She didn't care.

Tootie, what's going on? Timmy sent, worry mingled with anger. Of course, everyone was angry with her. Everyone hated her. Fine, let them hate her, she didn't need them, she didn't need anyone.

I'd tell you, but then you'd find some way to twist it into a nasty remark about how I obviously deserve this and that I'm a bitch. Oh, and that I don't care about that, I just abandoned you, and if I want to make you happy, I should just drop dead. Isn't that what you want to hear?

Cautiously, she felt Timmy respond. That's how I thought you felt about me…other than the bitch thing.

The jury's still out on that one, Tootie spat, surprising herself with her venom. However, try as she might to say she hated him or that she wished the worst things in the world would happen to him, she could not. Telepathy meant, no matter how furious you were with a person, you couldn't lie straight to their faces. Telling him she hated him was a lie…but one she wished to tell him badly right now. End the pain, become apathetic again.

I…I heard you cry. Are you okay? He asked gingerly, and, almost as though he were probing her, she felt him stroke her mind. It was probably the only way he knew how to mentally massage her, but it was really weird and she didn't much like it.

Unable to find some way to reply negatively, she found herself asking a question that was not entirely a lie. Wow, she'd never realized how hard it was to argue with someone you discovered was your soul mate in telepathy. It was damn near impossible.

Do you care? She sent instead, accidentally sending him the awkwardness that came with that question as well. Meanwhile, much to her anger, Tootie wasn't responding to Vicky's threats. She was far too busy to entertain her stupid sister, anyway.

Instantly, with a calmness that took her breath away, he replied immediately, Yes.

It was this and Vicky's next move, actually. As the transistor released her and she slid down to the pavement, it converted to a truth telling machine; cords seized upon her and prevented her movement. The one thing she had to say- Vicky certainly did like her paralyzed. When she got movement back, boy, was she in for it…

"I'm going to ask you one more time," She hissed, pressing a manicured nail on the red button (weren't they always red buttons?) that operated the machine. Tootie eyed her sister warily, yet knew nothing short of the apocalypse could rob her of her secret.

"Where were you?" Vicky screamed, slamming her hand down on the button. Fully prepared to lie, say anything that wasn't the truth, Tootie was therefore stunned by what tumbled out of her mouth.

"I was on a mission for Fairy World! They're sending me to stop all the versions of The Other that crop up. I don't want to do it, but he forced me there, using Cal as bait.

"Yes, I know Cal's dead, but he appeared to me in a dream and that was the first mission. I had to deal with an evil version of myself and I had to kill her. Her name was Lorelei and she loved your counterpart, but she couldn't take the fact that your counterpart ran to Mark only because she got drunk and tried to rape her.

"I don't know why the missions take so long, but they do. They're only one day to me, but it's the longest day I've ever been through in my life. It's like torture being there, with all these counterparts and all these fucked up universes.

"The one after that had a screwed up version of Crocker that kept all the fairies in cages and used a whip on me to try and stop Cal and his girlfriend Daniela from ruining his control. I don't think I won that one, because I only remember awakening later 'cuz he knocked me out.

"The last one had a version of Trixie and I slept with that version of Timmy…I only did it because I wanted him so badly…I wanted him to understand…"

Here she trailed off, the magic of the transistor pausing as did her sister. Oh, God, she'd really said too much, hadn't she? Now she couldn't tell Timmy anything at all. She'd used up her person on her goddamn sister!

"Oh, shit…" She murmured sadly, tears springing to her eyes. If only she could reach them and wipe them off, but, alas, she could not. And Vicky was making no motion to her, what a surprise. Bitch, she didn't understand the sacrifice she'd just made. There were no other humans she could tell now. Timmy couldn't know…he'd never let her near him again…

She was a slut, marred by her obsessions. All she'd wanted was some genuine affection. If she were stronger, better, she'd never have stooped so low. She was pathetic.

As if he could sense her train of thought, or, at least, a vague concept of it, Timmy shoved her out and the link faded. He hated her, she'd thought as much. She wished it hurt less than it actually did.

Bereft of anything to say, Vicky kicked her hard in the shin and then left silently. There was no need for any more words, anyway. Tootie had screwed herself over.
…
Wanda awoke strangely cold. This was especially peculiar considering what had just happened, but, until she opened her eyes, she supposed that Cosmo had poofed in a fan or something. He'd say something stupid and she'd laugh because she loved him.

He'd shown her just how much he loved her just now…It'd been perfect. With all his heart and soul, he'd given himself to her and her to him. When their bodies met, it was like the divining of the gods. She'd never been closer to heaven.

Yawning slightly, but far from tired, she snuggled closer to him. Nonetheless, the cold sensation continued. She didn't understand it, but her wings shuddered. Normally, wings did not operate without the knowledge of the fairy, but, this time, they expressed an unnatural aversion to something.

This time, she opted to open her eyes. Her fingers coursed over his bare shoulders, but, before she could tousle his hair, a scream tore from her. Cosmo, in all likelihood, appeared not to be breathing. What was more; feeling around his chest told her he had no pulse. Other than the fact she knew quite clearly that if he'd died, she'd have felt the drop from her mind, he looked dead.

"Cosmo!" Wanda cried, turning him over onto his back and trying mouth to mouth.

In the background, out of her eyesight, a boy formerly alive teleported into the room. He took in the sight of Wanda attempting to recover her husband in stride and, when she'd exhausted her breath and was now pushing desperately at his chest, he spoke up. After all, it was only fair to tell her what she was in for.

"A life for a life, Wanda," The child formerly known as Remy Buxaplenty said coolly, stepping up to her and, nonchalantly, without his expressionless face moving in the slightest bit, he touched Cosmo's cold back. Her eyes followed him, her arms gripping him close to herself as though her warmth might revive him. She hadn't the foggiest notion what he was up to, but she was frightened now.

Then, still coldly, inhumanly, he snatched his left wing in his hand and ripped it out of his back. No blood spilled, there was nothing there. No wing replaced itself. A chill hung in the air.

"What have you done?" Wanda whispered, rising to her feet awkwardly and holding the blanket in front to conceal her nudity. She needn't have bothered- even when Remy Buxaplenty was alive, he wasn't interested in the opposite sex. Her modesty was lost on him.

"Although I cannot kill him just yet, I have robbed him of that which will eventually rob him of his life. I have taken his soul," The child formerly known as Remy remarked monotonously, glancing at the wing he held and smashing it to pieces in front of her.

"That is a representation of his life. When all the shards crumble into dust, which they will in a matter of time, he will die. Then, I will finally reap his body and claim my victory over him once and for all. He will pay for murdering my Juandissimo." He spoke coldly, no emotions creeping into his voice at all.

Wanda cringed deeply, her fingers unconsciously stroking Cosmo's locks. Other than the fact she knew him to be still alive, he had all the other signs of rigor mortis. Possessing a sliver of his soul was the only thing keeping him alive right now. He was a near zombie.

"All of his soul is not gone, however," The creature formerly known as Remy spat bitterly. Or, rather, in anyone human, it would have been this way. One had to imagine it; otherwise, one would be shivering uncontrollably such as Wanda.

"It will be mine in time, as soon as you relinquish all hope of his recovery. Until then, I bid you adieu…and hope the sex was enjoyable."

With that, he vanished. Wanda, bereft of any other reaction, merely stared straight ahead, still clutching Cosmo to her like a life preserver.
…
Lorenzo DeMedici paced the lifeless arena of the space behind the mirror. Every once in a while, he'd cast a glance outside, towards the door where he could hear Tootie crying. It wasn't the same type of crying she'd done before, but now a hopeless sort.

Now if he really gave a damn about her, he'd be concerned. However, to the best of his knowledge, Timmy still loved her, and, therefore, he was still jealous. He wanted to be the one for him, no one else.

Sure, he knew that Wanda had told him that he was forbidden to touch him, that doing so would violate their terms of agreement. What harm could one touch do him? All he wanted was to hold him in his arms again…

From the sidelines, he'd seen him and realized he hadn't yet gotten out of depression. Well, that was what he was for, to comfort him. (Nothing had yet sunk in concerning the fact that he'd actually induced it).

Not only this, he was helpless to do anything when Vicky raged against the household. No longer was he prey to any sort of feelings for her, thankfully. Instead, he found his attention drawn to, of course, his beloved Timmy but another.

"Wanda…" Lorenzo breathed, hugging himself for the scant warmth available. He hadn't the foggiest idea, but, suddenly, the pent up aggression and frustration at being unable to place her on either the side of hatred or adoration vanished. What was left in its wake was an inexplicable attraction.

Slamming his head against the surface of the mirror, he sighed. There was little he could do about it, of course. Wanda was out there and here he was, stuck in this hell. If only there was some way to escape his prison.

Gingerly, he pressed his fingertips against the glass and, to his surprise, he felt air beyond it. There was a way out; he just had to find it.

At least he wasn't running short on time. He could stay up all night and figure this out…where was he going but nowhere?
…
Tootie slumped upstairs, her feet dragging. Tears had dried on her face, but the ache in her heart continued. She'd made such a mistake telling Vicky…and now Timmy would never let her in. He'd keep shoving her away and telling her how much he hated her until the end of time.

She didn't even glance in Timmy's room until he called out to her. (The paralysis had ended as soon as Wanda invoked another magical spell). The voice jarred her briefly out of thoughts she'd rather not have and she glanced over at him.

"You aren't going to come and say hello?" He murmured weakly, rising to his feet and walking to his doorway. The shirt Wanda had dressed him in was low cut and her eyes immediately fell to the scars on his chest. They remained glued to there.

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with me," Tootie countered, finding herself murmuring as well. Before she could add anything more, he snatched her hand and kissed it. Butterflies rose in her stomach and a pleasant tingle spread throughout her body.

His eyes took her in hungrily and they stared at each other, suddenly ravenous for any sort of touch. It'd been so long since they'd seen each other, too long. This thought passed through both of their minds before Timmy kissed her hard; she reciprocated, opening her mouth for their tongues to slide over and play. This was what she'd waited so long for…this was heaven…

His hands slid through her hair, releasing them from their pigtails and tenderly caressing the sore spots on her scalp. As he did this, one hand removed itself and he backed her up, lightly pushing her back onto his bed. They continued to make out, only coming up for breath on the rare occasion.

Again, they broke it and Tootie, beaming, looked up at her beloved Timmy. He beamed back at her before kissing her first on the lips and then beginning to suck on her neck. An involuntary moan escaped her, so ecstatic that he was doing this.

Tootie… He moaned in telepathy, whilst his hands ran down her sides and played lightly with the bottom of her vest. Adrenaline ran through her and she wondered if she was going to shove him away…or let him proceed. As much as she despised herself for wanting him this badly, he wanted her just as badly, right? So that made it okay, right?

Take it off… She sent breathlessly, feeling his hands slide across her bare stomach. No, the scar marks, they were still there. Damn Vicky, she had to ruin everything, didn't she?

Abruptly, he stopped, removing his hands from beneath her vest and his lips from her neck. Fury blazed in his eyes and he slapped her. Tootie gazed up at him; she was completely bewildered.

"Where the hell were you? No, wait, don't answer that. You were out whoring around, weren't you? Off with some other guy who gave you those marks-" He accused, rising from her and regarding her with contempt. God, he'd been kissing her just a half a minute ago. Couldn't he go back to sliding his tongue on her mouth and pulling her top off?

"Vicky gave me these marks!" Tootie retorted, longing to pull him back atop her and start again. Please, Timmy, believe me for just this once…

"Just now! Please, you have to believe me!" She protested, simulcasting it telepathy so he knew she wasn't lying. She seized one of his hands, only he ripped it from her grasp. Never before had she seen such fury on his face.

"Get out," He spat contemptuously. Soundlessly, she rose from his bed and, before leaving, glowered at him from the door.

"I thought, somehow, that this would be different. That you'd finally love me. I was an idiot. You wanna kill yourself so badly, Timmy Turner? You have my blessing!" With that, she slammed the door as hard as she could, right in his face. There was a satisfying crack as it hit his face and, then, silence.
…
To her surprise, she found Gary in her room, perched upon her bed. Considering she thought she'd abandoned him a while ago, this shocked her. So did the next time thing coming out of his mouth.

"Tim-Tim treatin' you bad? I'll get him for you, if you want," Gary murmured, and, pressing her free hair against her neck with his hand, he kissed her softly on the lips.

…
"Are you happy now?" Mark spat, surprising her. Vicky turned to face him, but, instead of feeling sorry for her sister, as he'd hoped, a malicious grin lit her features.

Now that she knew the grisly truth, she could blackmail her with it. It was perfect, simply perfect…

Oblivious to his thoughts, Mark jabbered on for a bit as Vicky plotted. Yes, she'd make her suffer for not being there, for causing her to become pregnant. It was all her fault and, in due time, she'd pay.
…
The shortest chapter in a long time, but I'm happy with it, for the most part. (slaps Timmy on the back of the head) You had Tootie where both of you wanted each other and you screwed that up!

On to reviews!

Moonjava- Er, thank you.

LgacyDX- Well, of course Timmy's messed up. You'd be messed up too if your parents were murdered by someone that raped you and tried to convince you to kill the only people that you cared about and cared about you.

And if Tootie keeps saying things like that, he'll never get out of his depression…

Yeah Loi- TOS is always heart wrenching and thank you…

L.C. Techno- Lol, it's also always depressing as well. It'll end when it ends, far from now, my dear.

SoulPoet- Happy? Positive? You have to be kidding me. Is any way anyone here can be happy in the near future? Jeez…

Northgalus2002- Girl, you haven't reviewed in such a long time…and Tootie has her own problems, which leads to more problems with Timmy. She doesn't mean what she said, of course, but he's hurt her so much already.

Now you hopefully know the answers to some of those questions…as for Timmy, he should if Wanda force feeds him.

I agree with you, that the characters in FOP are vastly different from what TOS has turned them into. And I hadn't know that about Wizard of Oz. Fortunately, this chapter outdid itself with ten reviews.

MisterBlue- Yeah, it did get more reviews for me. And I don't know what to say about the Tootie/Timmy thing. They're both having such troubles right now…

Lil JL- Heh…and thank you for reading all four chapters at once. My friend Cristin-chan once read all of Part One and Two in one sitting (this was before Part Three).

Ahhelga- Yes, it really is a pain in the ass to retype that over and over again. I can't call him Remy, either, because Remy's technically dead.

Um, you're welcome and poor Wanda. Yes, I noticed that Timmy got all the love and I felt bad about that.

vivi314- Everyone else has said this story is addictive, I suppose you concur. And thank you, I appreciate it.

Jentastic- Here, have a Cal plushie. I guess I'm making an exception in your case, since no one else got one…

Thank you for all your generous reviews and please continue to do so! Until we meet again…