Disclaimer: Not mine.
Chapter Eight: Unpleasant Discovery
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. Smiling bitterly, Wanda reflected their situation mostly closely resembled the latter. Given the three situations she'd to diffuse plus her own, she honestly could locate no silver lining. Before her loomed clouds, thundering ominously and threatening to drown her. However, as long as she maintained coolness and tried to shove her personal feelings to the back burner, she thought she'd be all right. She'd done this before; she could do it again. Emotions only bogged her down.
However, the problem was that the idea was great, but it only appeared to work in theory. For no matter how much she declared her independence from her sorrow, she had yet to leave the treehouse. Instead, her fingers stroked Cosmo's cold, clammy face and he lay in her lap. Every once in a while, he would choke, seeking the soul evading him, then she'd feel a mental tug, like his heart strained to beat. In that instant, her own heart would halt for a moment. He couldn't leave her…he wouldn't dare…
How long had she remained here to placate herself with lies? In the end, did time really matter? She might have been here minutes, hours, or days. All she recalled was stroking his hair and face and occasionally kissing his cheeks. Nothing brought him back nor gave her comfort, yet she continued. She really couldn't think of anything else for she had no idea how to restore him.
Outside, the sun clung tentatively to the lingering moments of daylight and pink, red, and orange streaked across the sky. If Wanda had glanced up, she might have enjoyed the view and thought, for a split second, of anything other than her predicament. But her body and mind were mired in the past and everything that had happened to them. Could they receive no respite? Already, she ached for a sleep as deep as Cosmo's where they could finally be together, but the possibility was remote. Besides, she was needed and for that duration, nothing else could be considered.
For a split second, she swore she heard Cosmo whimper and she sat up straighter, clutching him tighter. However, when she scanned their bond, nothing arose. It hadn't been him, but if it wasn't him, then who on earth could it have been? Was someone spying on them?
"You came to all of us because you thought we needed you, but now I think you need us more," Timmy called, standing on a rung. His cerulean eyes took in her fingers, which she had to force to stop stroking Cosmo's locks, and then, (she noted guilty) the clock, at least five hours past the time she'd come in. She had spent hours stroking his face.
Weakly, ignoring her longing for him, she forced herself to turn in his direction and gaze defiantly back. Behind her back, she gripped her wand between trembling fingers and wished for strength. If she figured out a way to trick him or steer the conversation away, she might get enough time to sneak away. She just had to play her cards right.
"How are you and Tootie?" she replied evenly, levitating above the bed when she discovered her hands possessed minds of their own and snaked forward. She couldn't help it- seeing him like this made her think, if only subconsciously, he might be dead or die soon.
Striding purposefully into their room, his piercing stare told her difficulty lay ahead if she tried to connive her way out. While Timmy indeed had a short attention span, he'd come here to discuss her; his attentiveness conflicted him in the past, but she was now technically his mother. Hence, when he worried about her, he worried a lot. And, with a guilt pang, she realized her actions in the past few hours might merit it. No stable creature would spend hours caressing their comatose spouse's hair and whispering to him (and dully, she recalled that too).
No, she told herself sternly, she wasn't unhinged. She was just a little stressed out, all things considered. It was nothing for Timmy to be alarmed about and if it were, she could handle it. He had other people to be concerned with.
"How are you and Cosmo?" he shot back, sitting on her bed and examining his godfather. Her heartbeat quickened and, without thinking, she descended to hover, wand out, protectively over him.
Stunned, Timmy stared at her and gently pushed her wand arm down. Silence passed while she registered what she'd pointed at him and he registered that if he didn't speak up, she might blast him, regardless of the fact he was her godson. Worry shimmered in his eyes- she might have shared her feelings with him but that felt so long ago and it clearly hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped. Particularly if she'd just spent five hours pretending he merely had a fever in their treehouse.
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, dropping her weapon quickly and glancing furtively around for solace. Everything exposed her to the elements and Timmy himself felt the most formidable. When it came to talking about herself and sensations deeper than superficial ones, she usually found herself at a loss for words. His sympathetic glance caused heat to spread across her cheeks speedily. He cared…and she had to get out of here. Suddenly, the room was entirely too confining and she too agitated.
"You were threatening me…" Timmy whispered, half to himself. Swallowing hard, she cast the bedspread an anxious look. At least it wasn't querying her and it didn't balk at having a wand pointed at its chest. She hadn't meant to intimidate him, honestly…
"You came at a bad time," she explained weakly, steeling herself for a quick exit. If she had to abandon her wand and resort to dark magic, she would. Right now, solace could be found in the dark arts. Darkness soothed the soul.
Tentatively, he reached out to cradle her and she cringed. In many ways, this said more unintentionally than she'd cared to admit. By shoving him away again, she returned to her former path of thought- she was better off alone. Sure, he intended no harm, but how could she tell? He wanted to break down the fortress around her and she'd put it up to keep him out. In five minutes, no more, she would return to the kitchen and prepare dinner, thus avoiding any unpleasant conversation. Acting the normal, human mother would prevent complications and she'd serve her purpose at the moment.
"You've changed," he accused and not for the first time. "And I don't mean because you're stressed out over Cosmo. Since you came back from Juandissimo, you're completely different."
"No, no, I'm not," she lied and flashed him a feeble, entirely false smile he failed to return. Why couldn't they speak of his troubles with Tootie? If he was happy, maybe he'd be less inclined to notice her own misery. He'd be too self absorbed to notice. It was worth a shot, wasn't it? So was everything else. Four more minutes…
"You're imagining things, sport." Yet her eyes continued to focus on her pink and green bedspread.
Sighing, exasperated, she spotted a look in his eyes she did not like one bit. He was thinking of another way to approach this, to attack her. If his hand weren't pressing down on her wand, she might flee then and there. She swallowed hard, gathering her energy to teleport.
"Wanda, what's really bothering you? I can help," he murmured, drawing her into his lap before she could protest. Once there, his hands snaked around her midsection and stole her wand away. The abruptness took her breath away and ruptured her concentration. Goddamn him.
Next to them, breathing only because it was an automatic function, lay Cosmo and her eyes brimmed over with tears. Timmy's eyes followed hers and, in response, he clutched her tightly. She wished he wouldn't because it made it all the harder to swallow the lump in her throat. Wave after wave of powerful urges to break down and tell him everything consumed her- she had to escape before her mouth acted of its own accord.
Cautiously, he, rocking her back and forth like a child, smoothed her curls. When had their roles reversed? Why was she letting him treat her like this? Moreover, why did she find it strangely comforting? Why wasn't she fighting him?
"Tell me," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. She shuddered, swallowing hard and clamping her eyes shut. Releasing herself would be like succumbing to temptation and, despite the desire; she thought it'd be better if she kept her mouth shut. Why was it so difficult, though? Why was the idea of unlocking the dam for the flood gates so desirous?
Shaking her head obstinately, she was unaware of the footsteps on the tree's bark until a raven haired girl poked her head above. When her violet eyes fell upon Cosmo, she gasped sharply, apparently unaware of his state. Whatever thoughts passed through her mind quickened her resolve, for she adroitly scrambled up and faced them. Pity shone in her eyes, ones Wanda found she could not gaze too deeply in.
"Wanda…" Tootie breathed, sitting next to Timmy, gazing between his estranged girlfriend to his godparents. Offering her a weak smile she did not return, she finally tore her eyes from her somber pink ones and stared openly at Cosmo. Her scrutiny took in everything, from his pallor to his bare back (containing only the stems of wings Remy had callously ripped off) and finally, to his shallow breathing, only alive because he possessed a sliver of a soul. When she finished, her gaze returned to Wanda and she placed a hand on the pink fairy's shoulder.
Swallowing hard, she concentrated her energy on escaping. Why had they teamed up on her? Were they planning it? Why couldn't they leave her alone?
Gently, Timmy cupped Wanda's head up and forced her to peer into his cerulean eyes. This she did, flinching slightly. Unequivocal pity and remorse shone; she yearned to shift her gaze, but he held steadfast. Her wand, she noted unhappily, remained too far away to fetch and she found her concentration beginning to slip. All she could focus on were his eyes boring into hers.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tootie tenderly lifted Cosmo up (Wanda bit back a possessive, inexplicable growl) and, after musing for a moment, indicated Timmy rise so she could tuck him in. Despite the pallor of his face and his shallow breathing, she clearly thought he resembled one asleep. The nagging notion in her mind, that he would be forever asleep all too soon, fought its way to the surface, but she swallowed it back. There was no need to worry her godson and his estranged lover now. Besides, admitting that might release the floodgates. The last thing she needed right now was to admit everything that bothered her. If she pretended none of it existed, she'd be all right and she could cope.
Timmy rose, still clutching Wanda, swiveling her head around to gaze at her husband. Tears struggled to release, but she, once again, swallowed hard. Perhaps with him as a distraction, they wouldn't notice. She wouldn't bet on it, but she could always hope. If both found themselves distracted, an escape might be plausible.
Finishing, she turned to the pink fairy, eyes swollen with previously shed tears. Timmy cradled her to his chest, like a father would an infant, and he sat back down again, Tootie joining him. There was an awed silence for a moment, one lasting far too short, and then both started in again. How long would the barricade continue before they cracked it down? How long until she could leave their piercing questioning?
"You don't have to tell us anything, if you don't want to," Tootie murmured softly and, although she hardly spotted it, the brown haired boy cast her a shrewd look. Relieved, the thought never occurred to her that she might be using reverse psychology and luring her into a false sense of security. In his arms, she relaxed slightly. Maybe they wanted her advice instead. That she could give out freely, without having to worry about discussing Cosmo.
Sighing heavily, she gently disentangled herself from her godson and sat between the two humans. Both offered her weak smiles she failed to return. Distantly, though she ignored it, the thought arose that maybe they were here because they cared about her and worried, just as she did them. Maybe they weren't here because they wanted to crack her shell but because they thought she'd be happier just explaining to them. As quickly as the idea sprang to mind, she squashed it down. She didn't want to be comforted; she wanted to be left alone.
"We could talk about anything, like that odd mirror on the landing by the stairs that wasn't there a few months ago…" Tootie said softly, wondering herself what was up with that thing. From what she recalled, it suddenly appeared and no one had been able to get any reflection out. All anyone saw when they peered in was darkness.
"How would you know if it wasn't there a few months ago? You've been gone-" Timmy retorted, glowering at her. Wanda restrained from sighing again, for it looked like another argument brewed. While their attention was no longer focused on her, it vexed her they would begin so soon after she'd tried to help. Sophie was lamentably right- there really was entirely too much sexual tension between them.
"That isn't the point!" Tootie exploded, jumping up and folding her arms across her chest. She fixed him a cold look.
"Then what is?" he retorted, springing forth like someone had stabbed him in the rear. Wanda, for the moment, sat forgotten.
"The point is that we're arguing over nothing and I don't remember that mirror! Do you?" she hissed, her purple eyes narrowed to slits. Wanda definitely spotted the family resemblance; whenever one member got this heated, their stances were similar. Timmy had better watch his step, because he was batting in the dragon's lair and the odds were stacked against him.
"We were arguing over…" he trailed off, remembering himself the mirror's sudden manifestation. As a matter of fact, it'd appeared within the day he'd murdered Lorenzo. Something fishy was going on. There was the chance the two events were not related, but with fairies, coincidences rarely occurred. Someone had done something.
In unison, they turned back to the pink fairy, flushed. She'd promised Lorenzo she'd keep his secret, especially because outing him would mean outing herself. Not to mention Timmy was hardly stable and she really didn't want to set him off. Maybe she could distract them from that…but then that meant telling them what she'd hoped they'd get distracted from. Perhaps she held too many secrets.
"Wanda," Timmy said suddenly, "where did that mirror come from?"
Swallowing hard, she cast her mind about for a quick, relatively painless lie. Unfortunately, lying was not her strong suit and, with the amount of stress she'd undergone, she couldn't think nearly as clearly as she'd like. What came out sounded too trite for even a five year old to swallow and when she uttered it, they stared, seeing right through. (Why on earth hadn't she thought of something better?)
"I…that was in our palace in Marseilles and it was the only thing I liked. I didn't think Juandissimo would mind, seeing as he's dead and all…" she lied, nearly choking on the late Latino fairy's name. Far too late, she'd realized her explanation made less than no sense. Anyone with half a brain (or less, considering Cosmo) could knock that down in less time than it took to say, "Butch Hartman the hack".
"Why would you want something that reminded you of Juandissimo?" Timmy charged, his gaze piercing through her thin façade. When he spoke his name, she flinched unconsciously, a point Tootie quickly brought up. Damn it all…
"Especially considering whenever anyone says his name around you, you flinch?" Tootie continued, her own eyes too much. Wanda yearned to swing her head, but their stares were far too rapt for her to turn away. She sincerely wished she'd vanished when she had the chance. By now, changing the subject was useless. Both of them had noticed the mirror and doubtlessly wouldn't leave until she explained it satisfactorily.
"That's because it's not Lorenzo's…" Wanda clapped a hand to her mouth and longed to slam her head against something. Damn Freudian slip. Hopefully, they'd overlook it.
"Lorenzo!" Timmy growled, darting to her wall and punching a hole straight through. Beside her, Tootie shuddered. If he could do that to a wall, she hated to imagine what he could do to her.
Why the hell did I say that, anyway? It really had nothing to do with Juandissimo-I must be cracking under stress. And now Timmy's attacking my wall…
"This is from Lorenzo's mansion?" Timmy snapped, breathing hard, through gritted teeth. By now, the hole had grown to about four inches in diameter. For a thirteen year old, he certainly wielded a lot of power, probably due to The Other's training methods.
At least it was from Lorenzo's mansion; it'd been his favorite mirror. The hours before Timmy arrived to murder his anti fairy self, he'd summoned him to her and they'd set off, searching for a suitable place to serve as his "prison". By the time Timmy came, they'd settled on this, but she'd hoped it was far enough out of the way so her godson wouldn't put two and two together. Then again, she hadn't counted on Tootie helping him out. She'd hoped with the shroud there, no one would notice.
A thousand questions assaulted Timmy at once and, judging from the expression on Tootie's face, he'd shared them with her. Grand, another opportunity to double-team her. However, her wand lay a scant few feet away and, if she stretched, she might be able to use it to make a very quick getaway. She didn't relish seeing the expression on her godson's face when he found out not only was his anti fairy not dead, he was alive because of her. No amount of affection would dim that anger.
"Where did that mirror really come from? Lorenzo's mansion? And how come I can't see my reflection like a normal mirror? How come when I fell against it once, I felt something pushing back at me? What are you hiding?" Timmy snapped and, before she could open her mouth and possibly save herself, Tootie picked up.
"Why is it shrouded all the time? Why are you so keen to usher us away from it? Why did it just randomly show up one day?"
Wanda moaned, extending her arm for her wand only to have Timmy snatch it and then, with a threatening look, slam it down on the floor. He hovered his foot threateningly close by. Damn it, too little, too late. Wasn't there any way to save herself? Maybe another distraction, but who? Who would vault up to her treehouse now?
The wheels churned in Timmy's head and the next statement drew all the color from her face. Desperately, she stiffened her wings, ready for flight, and glanced steadily at the open window. Worse come to worst, she'd vault out and hope neither of them fancied grabbing hold. It was the only thought giving her sustenance.
"That mirror showed up the day I beat Lorenzo…and you vanished a few hours before the duel…" He was way too close now. With any more time, he'd figure it out all together. Not to mention Tootie picked up on his train of thought and was puzzling it out herself.
With bated breath, she awaited their final deductions. The world spun around her- even if she miraculously passed out now, they could force the truth out of Lorenzo, supposing they managed to outwit him. A thin smile crossed her face- Timmy hadn't managed to outwit The Other yet. If he thought he stood a chance, he was sadly mistaken. Lorenzo excelled at mind games.
As quickly as the smile arose, it faded. Timmy might not possess the intellect to combat The Other, but Tootie surely did. Her spell had lured Timmy out of Lorenzo's clutches long enough to bring him to the What-If Spell and with her at his side, they might be able to force the man in the mirror into speaking. They weren't the typical cartoon heroes, either; they'd be bound to recognize his voice. And once they figured that out, only one thing remained- discovering the culprit. She'd sink so deeply, she'd never swim to surface again.
"There was no body in the casket for Lorenzo's funeral…" he whispered, close to figuring it completely out. She had to stop him…
"Because anti fairies-" she began, but she never finished. The last piece slid into place cleanly and the rage filling his body was so incredible, Wanda, frightened, cowered into a corner. Anything she might have added was lost in the eruption.
"He's in the goddamn mirror, isn'the?" he roared, nearly electrocuting himself when he punched another sizeable hole in her poor wall, which, she might add, had done nothing to deserve it.
"I…I don't know what you're talking about," she said faintly, but the damage was done. Murderous blue eyes glinted beneath his narrowed lids and he breathed deeply, struggling against homicidal rage. Tootie retreated as well, pressing herself into the right corner of the room. At this rate, there wouldn't be many corners left.
"LIAR!" he screamed. "You're protecting him! You fucking lied to me!"
In any normal creature, faced with such an upset individual, they might withdraw and leave him alone to cool down. The problem was, Wanda was not a normal creature by any means and she'd reached the end of her tether. Like before, when she'd faced Vicky, an insurmountable rage built within her. Everyone acted like she knew absolutely nothing about them when it was she that kept them together, she that looked after them, she who acted in their best interests. Simply put, she was sick of this shit.
"I protected him because you aren't stable right now, damn it!" Wanda retorted, surprising herself. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd screamed at her godson like this.
"I acted in your best interests!"
"How the fuck is rescuing the bastard that killed my parents and raped me in my best interests? Wanna explain that to me or are you just going to hide it like you do everything else?" he screeched, and, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Tootie attempt to slink off. However, if she thought Timmy was just going to let her go without snapping at her, she was sadly mistaken. Timmy's anger was at everyone, all at once. And frankly, Wanda couldn't care less.
"And you, always running off whenever it's convenient. Do you ever stay to hear someone out, or are you just waiting for the next great lay?" he snarled, grabbing her by the wrist. Affronted, she glowered back, wrenching it out with great effort. Upon closer inspection, he'd given her a black and blue mark.
At once, both females screamed back at him. Anyone passing might have thought they were about to kill each other, which made it quite fortunate no one passed by. It'd be awfully hard to explain (a), what they were arguing about and (b), why they were arguing with a mythological creature. No one really stayed out long near his house anyway; there were many believing it, like Lorenzo's mansion, to be haunted.
"I told you before; I am not a slut, Timmy Turner It was one mistake!" One very, very bad mistake…
"If I'm hiding things from you, it's for a very good reason! Do you think I enjoy having the bastard that you wished up living in our house? Do you think I enjoy living with the fact that Cosmo's soulless because of something I helped create?" Wanda snapped, shivering and rubbing her hands along her goose pimpled arms. Despite the heat (the temperatures were around ninety and climbing) and the light air conditioner making it bearable in the room, she suddenly felt a chill not associated with the weather. However, blood pounding in her head, she didn't think too much about it.
"Are you going to blame me for that too?" Timmy retorted, ignoring Tootie's response for an attack on his pride. Folding his arms across his chest, he glowered.
"Well, if you hadn't been so selfish and thinking everyone has it better than you, maybe this wouldn't have happened! Maybe if you'd thought of someone else for a change, you wouldn't be arguing all the time with Tootie! Maybe if you didn't act in someone else's interests only when it suited you, we wouldn't have this problem!" Wanda snapped, surprised at the words coming out of her mouth. Of course, she meant none of them, but in the heat of the moment, her brain and her voice were disconnected.
On the defensive, fists clenched tightly, looking like he'd like nothing more than to silence her any way he could, he screeched at her. Tendrils of chestnut hair dangled over his eyes, but he made no attempt to smooth them over. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, because he didn't care. All he saw was red.
"And maybe if you'd started admitting you have a problem and you're worried about Cosmo, we wouldn't be here! And I know everything is my fault- why do you think I tried to commit suicide?" Timmy replied coldly, casting a very nasty look.
Whatever words she expected, those clearly weren't it, for any color remaining in her cheeks vanished and she sank low against the cushions of her bed. Tootie, too, paled, stepping forward to touch his shoulder, but he shrugged her off. He hadn't said that to garner pity, he'd said it because it was the truth. They both knew it and in that instant, she felt terribly guilty for starting up with him. Because it wasn't him she was angry with, it was herself. She didn't really blame him for everything…she blamed herself.
"Timmy…" She breathed, suddenly ashamed. "I-I'm sorry…"
"Save it for someone who gives a damn," he retorted, not bothering to climb but jumping straight down. There was a terse moment, but she heard him land safely and softly into the grass. How he managed that she wasn't sure, but Tootie reported lately that he'd flipped her off before darting into the house. She sighed heavily.
Tootie followed wordlessly, not foolish enough to plunge that far down. Wanda was alone again, but she found herself displeased with the outcome, to say the least. Floating over to Cosmo, she began to stroke his locks again and was soon mindlessly lost. At least there, she didn't have to deal with everything at once.
…
Vicky stared blankly, rolling Wanda's words over in her mind. She'd wanted to run upstairs and snap at her, but changed her mind. Instead, she wondered if the pink fairy didn't have something. Even though she hadn't any children herself, she'd raised pretty literally thousands of the year.
Accidentally sipping hot water (she'd forgotten to put tea in), she swore loudly. Why hadn't she waited for it to cool down somewhat? Moreover, where was that damn tea bag? She'd have to watch that when she had kids…
Shrugging, she continued to swear bitterly and run cold water over her tongue. This wasn't going to be fun.
Shaking badly, Timmy Turner nearly tripped running back into the house. This was ironic, considering he'd made the jump so smoothly. Then again, he hadn't been thinking then and he definitely was now. Every thought slowed him down and caused ripples through his body. The concept of Lorenzo still being alive made him sick to his stomach.
Flinging himself through the open front door, he spurted through the living room and nearly tripped again, grabbing the coffee table to prevent himself from falling over it. As it was, his knees knocked into it and he cursed bitterly, screaming Lorenzo's name in the midst. Everything was his fault and he'd be damned if he was going to accept the blame. How could you blame the creator for the creation? That was like saying he was responsible for Gary's actions towards him…even though he was. Damn it.
Regaining his wind, he eyed the table warily before backing away and around, dashing headlong at the stairs. He took them two at a time and this time, truly did fall, smashing his face into the lush carpet. Pain shot through his forehead; he glowered down for a good minute before pushing himself back up again. Extraordinary bad luck, wasn't it? And he bet he knew the culprit.
Rising to his feet, he finally settled on the landing and snatched the shroud. Furiously he pulled, but it refused to budge. As a matter of fact, it felt like someone else pulled back and he waged a game of tug and war. Whoever held fast, they had the advantage of speed and strength. Timmy growled, yanking as hard as he could- when he found his anti fairy, he'd kill him soundly enough so he'd never return again. He'd beat him senseless and then burn him alive, all the while torturing him. Yes, that was a good idea.
Meanwhile, behind the mirror, Lorenzo, hearing him arrive, had resigned himself for the worst. His former apprentice might have had the advantage of an adrenaline rush brought on by fury, but he had patience and more knowledge than he. Timmy couldn't tell for certain what was behind the mirror (if anything at all), whereas Lorenzo knew exactly what lay within and outside it. He knew his enemy better than his opponent.
"Let the fuck go!" Timmy screeched, nearly being dragged down. Out of the corner of the teenager's eyes, he spotted Sophie, leaving her room to examine the situation. Her mousy brown eyes widened, seeing something he couldn't. Thin lines extended out of the mirror and connected it to him.
Hostility shone in the line and, suddenly fearful, she darted back into her room with a gasp and shut the door. Timmy paid her little mind anyway. He had worse problems, including the anti fairy about to tear the shroud. Hey, wait, tear it? That meant he might be able to see him.
Releasing it, he instead threw it to the ground and stomped down hard. Lorenzo, not realizing this too late, released the shroud right after it tore. For a moment, The Other stared blankly, Timmy's eyes boring into his. Both held their breath, taking in all the ramifications his discovery held. Wanda hadn't lied, even if she hadn't offered the idea freely. Lorenzo really had squirreled himself away.
For a moment, words failed him. Instead, he stared, a swirl of emotions tumbling in his mind. By his thighs, his fists clenched tightly. How would it feel to smash that mirror into a thousand pieces? To reach through and beat Lorenzo to death? To hurt him the way he'd hurt him?
Lorenzo gazed steadily back, gaze full of longing, guilt, and hope. Maybe Timmy had changed since they last met and, if he hadn't, the mirror would shield him. He shuddered to think of Timmy in his murderous rage, gleaming in his eyes now. For once, he was grateful he was imprisoned. Otherwise, he might be dead before he could say his beloved's names.
"You're alive," Timmy spat, more full of awe than anger at the moment. Stunned, he reached out to touch the mirror's surface, but for some odd reason, it had become glass again. Well, perhaps glass like was the best term, because it would not shatter upon impact and shone eerily.
"In a sense, yes…" Lorenzo replied, aware now of the double standards for the mirror. Either only he could reach out from within and no one else could…or Wanda had designed it so Timmy couldn't attack him from within. Whatever the case, he was eternally grateful. A beating at the hands of his apprentice was not something he relished. It was bad enough it had happened once preceding his death at said apprentice's hands.
Insurmountable rage surged; the bile in Timmy's throat rose and he nearly choked on his anger. Narrowing his eyes, he pounded his fist where Lorenzo's face reflected. Like a gong, when he struck it, the surface shimmered and the shock returned upon his hand. Biting back a cry, he nursed his right hand in his left and glared.
"I killed you," Timmy snapped, breathing heavily through his nostrils like a bull about to charge. Both shoulders hunched and Lorenzo winced, recognizing the position- it was the one he usually had before he prepared to take the dummy's heads off in their training. Thank Beelzebub he was protected. Otherwise, he might start praying to the Dark Lords.
"I FUCKING KILLED YOU!" He roared. "I stabbed you through the heart and watched you bleed! I beat you to a bloody pulp! Goddamn you!"
Smiling slightly, he shifted so Timmy could see his whole face. Ah, this was what he'd missed about his apprentice; he had a knack for damning things to a Lord that didn't exist. The last time he'd heard it, he'd burst out laughing and Timmy had stared at him dumbly. It'd taken him a full ten minutes to calm down.
Swallowing hard, still looking very much like he'd love to ram the mirror with his head (and perhaps his horns), he suddenly laughed insanely. Lorenzo stared, recalling trying to teach him the evil cackle hadn't quite worked according to plan. He just didn't have the voice for it. When they finally finished, they'd settled for an odd whine.
"Wanda!" Timmy called, but until she arrived, he wasn't quite sure he was summoning her or...Well, he rather preferred not to think about what happened under that silly pink hat. Though it took her a few minutes to realize, she arrived, dazed. For a moment, she glanced between Lorenzo and Timmy. She didn't quite understand yet.
"Timmy? Did you call me?" She frowned, and then the pieces fell together. The color drained from her face and her gaze shifted frantically from her godson to his creation. When her eyes met Timmy's, she retreated, disliking the gleam. He'd worn that around her last in October...
Oh, shit... Wanda thought, fumbling with her wand. This is just great...I knew I said too much before...
Laughing insanely again, Timmy motioned towards the mirror and smirked.
"Did you do this?" He barked again, in a mockery of laughter. "Did you let Lorenzo out to play?"
She tensed, sensing that after he got over sounding unhinged, he might start attacking. She had to choose her words carefully- they'd already paid for her last indiscretion. Still, what to say? What on earth could she say to keep him from trying to tear her apart?
Swallowing hard, speaking with courage she wished she had, she replied, "He wished it. And, to quote a certain ghost on Danny Phantom, 'so you wish it, so it shall be'."
"I don't give a flying fuck what some stupid ghost says on some stupid show by some half assed artist that can't draw for shit. You did this?" He said, still calm but smiling freakily. The eye of the storm...before it blew over and nearly buried her.
"I-I had to, Timmy. He was-is part of you. I have to grant anything he wishes." As she answered, she flew towards the wall. While she wasn't cowardly enough to retreat and let Lorenzo take the brunt of it, she really wanted to. He frightened her, especially because he reminded her of Juandissimo.
"Is that so? So if he wished me dead, then you'd have to grant it?" Snorting in disgust, he punched the air right in front of her and if she hadn't moved, she would have gotten a nasty punch in the face. Maybe he didn't just look deranged, maybe he was right now.
"Y-yes..." Wanda said slowly. "Death wishes haven't been outlawed by Da Rules yet."
"Or if he wished he could rape me repeatedly, then you'd have to grant it, wouldn't you?"
"I-I suppose...I don't know exactly...it's never come up..." She murmured faintly, leaning against the wall for strength. It possessed a fortitude she could only yearn for at the moment. He'd already tried to hit her...and if he couldn't get the true object, she thought with a sinking sensation that she might do.
"But you could grant that, couldn't you? Along with anything else his majesty wishes? So it wouldn't matter if I wished he were dead, because he could just wish he wasn't."
Makes me wonder why he didn't just wish Cosmo and Wanda would kill themselves if he can do all that. Malevolence chimed in with the homicidal rage. Typical villain, overlooking the obvious.
"So no matter what, he always wins, is that it? I'll never be rid of him because he'll keep coming back even if I kill him ten million times?" He snapped, cornering her. Wanda had to put up her wand in self defense to keep him from attempting to hit her again. The proximity gave him a wand burn mark on his face.
From the mirror, oddly silent until just now, Lorenzo replied, "I don't think I'd like to be killed ten million times. I think I'd just throw in the towel around five million."
Ignoring him (although Wanda smiled weakly), he continued. "The only way to get rid of him is to kill myself, isn't it? Otherwise, he'll never stop. In that case, I wish I were de-"
Hearing the argument from her bedroom (Sophie did as well, but she chose not to get involved, undoubtedly a smart choice), Tootie burst out and glowered. Striding up to him, she slapped him so hard, he barely felt the burn mark. Her whole body quivered and although he cowered, she slapped him three more times.
"You kill yourself, Timmy Turner, and I'll kill you ten million times and bring you back. Don't you dare." Tootie snapped and, without another word, stomped back up the stairs. She slammed the door, but her telepathy continued.
((I'm serious. I'll even find a way for me to haunt you alive.))
Stunned, taken aback and head spinning, Timmy lost his train of thought and merely stared blankly for a few seconds. Wanda gazed back with bated breath. Perhaps he might not be angry anymore, but she doubted he'd forget this. As if reinforcing her point, he punched the mirror again and glowered at her.
"I'll never forgive you, Wanda. I'll get you for this."
He too turned on his heel and stomped up the stairs; presumably, he would visit Tootie, but Wanda didn't feel like following. Somehow, she didn't feel welcome. Sighing heavily, she faced Lorenzo. She owed him an apology in the very least.
"Lorenzo, I'm sorry that..." She trailed off, because she realized he didn't need to hear the rest. He already knew. Still, that hardly prevented her from feeling dreadful about it. Damn her mouth.
"Never mind that. Go to Cosmo."
She'd never been more grateful in her life. Floating towards him and hugging him lightly (proving only Timmy couldn't touch him), she vanished into thin air.