Disclaimer: FOP is not mine. It will never be mine. Lorenzo, Sophie, and the ideas within TOS are mine…especially Lorenzo. (frowns) You steal Lorenzo, you're in deep shit. At any rate, thanks to everyone who reviewed, please keep up, and enjoy!

Chapter Twelve: I'm Begging You to Fly this For Me

Darkness pressed in and permeated his very soul. Every breath Lorenzo DeMedici took stole another. He wasn't certain if he'd died or he was dying. Wherever he was, the living never spent a great deal of time. The air was noxious and like inhaling poison. He gagged and clutched his chest. Had Wanda sent him to die here?

Darkness shoved his eyeballs back into their sockets. It encapsulated his being and if he stayed here much longer, he'd never drag it back. The longer he stayed, the less he became. Fear poured down and choked him like the false air. What if the punishment for trying to seduce Timmy was eternity here?

But Wanda wouldn't damn him like that, would she? Sure, she'd been furious and flung him into the wall, but that wasn't like she loathed him. His trying to kill her and convincing Timmy to do the act for him were in the past. She couldn't bear a grudge that large, could she? Wasn't that why she'd revived him in the first place?

Then again, he'd broken the one major rule she'd instated. He'd let his hormones get the better of him. He'd let his hands roam Timmy and even now, he wished he'd gotten further. Blinking and achieving nothing in the futile notion, he realized he would have done it all over again, but only when he wouldn't have been caught. He still hadn't learned his lesson and he still wanted Timmy for himself.

A phantom flitted across his vision and he exhaled sharply, immediately fixating on it. There was life here? Wait, no, it couldn't be life. This place expelled the living, he was certain of that. Then who had passed him by? Who else was here?

Sighing heavily, he resigned himself to the long haul. Wanda would return for him, but in the meanwhile, he ought to contemplate an excuse. His hormones had betrayed him, so his mind had to take up the slack. Ah, things were much easier when he was training Timmy to kill Cosmo and Wanda and the boy was under his roof. Then he needn't bother to explain himself to anyone. Cosmo and Wanda had been too afraid to strike out.

Green? Hmm? It wasn't as though he actually saw it, but he felt the essence of green. Only one creature possessed it in excess and he flushed. He had no idea what the properties of this world were, but if telepathy worked here or any semblance of it, he might catch what he'd done with Wanda. Right now, he wasn't certain whether that was a bad thing or good.

True, in this world, he might have the leeway to destroy Cosmo's essence and therefore, his body. That'd eliminate his competition and ensure he only had to face one fairy in the future. Wanda wasn't nearly as powerful without Cosmo.

However, conversely, he had a sneaking suspicion Wanda might be upset if Cosmo died. Moreover, if she figured out it was he who led to the rest of his soul being destroyed, she might not be pleased. There might be only one fairy left, but she had magic and he had none to his knowledge. He could find himself in a very ugly situation once Wanda was done ripping him apart for destroying Cosmo.

Maybe if he bided his time and restrained himself, Cosmo would pass without incident. Maybe he hadn't enough humanity left to notice him. Maybe Danny Phantom will appear in Dimmsdale, because Cosmo stopped dead upon his sight. The green magnified and flared, a blinding contrast from the absolute darkness of before. Other creatures drifted by, but their strength was nothing compared to Cosmo's.

Flickering in that green aura enveloping the translucent body was pink and he thought he recognized it- whatever part Wanda had lost thanks to Juandissimo. If Wanda simply used her magic to locate that, she'd find Cosmo. Right now, he sincerely hoped she failed. Cosmo might've been here long enough to lose himself, but this part of Wanda was clearly made of stronger stuff. If they'd fused together, this was horrid indeed.

"Well, well, Lorenzo DeMedici, what mess have you landed yourself in now?" the Wanda particle addressed, her form overlapping Cosmo's. "I can only assume you have continued antagonizing the rest of me. What was it this time?"

"What is it usually?" Cosmo replied, his normal humor present. "I'd know if he offed you…so maybe he's accidentally offed himself. That'd solve a lot of problems."

"Oh, no," Wanda replied, drifting away and wincing when her body lost substance. The further she drifted from Cosmo, the less she became. Pain contorted her translucent face and, reluctantly, she returned to his side. This part of Wanda was clearly dependent on Cosmo.

Maybe that's why it's here and not back with her. Juandissimo ripped it from her when he made her forget him…and now that he's here, she's bound to him, he reflected. It certainly made sense. Wanda scarcely had enough substance to materialize outside Cosmo's aura, much less exist on her own. This part not only represented her compassion, but her tie to him as well. If he destroyed Cosmo, he'd be destroying part of Wanda.

"He is alive. Not terribly brilliant, but alive," she continued. Lorenzo shivered, perturbed by the fact her words came out of nowhere to him. Only when she moved away from Cosmo could he see anything other than the pink aura. It was unsettling.

Temper stole any patience from him and he glared at the two. Who were they to condemn him when they were stuck here? At least he was sentient. They weren't whole, they were the parts stolen away. They were nothing.

"Just tell me how to get out of here," Lorenzo retorted, folding his arms across his chest. Only by their dim light could he see them. Another surge of annoyance flared up and he glared, gritting his teeth. The sooner he escaped, the better. And he would make Wanda pay for sending him here. What was he, a misbehaving child? Honestly.

"What are you talking about?" Wanda replied, voice dangerously soft. "I don't know what you did to place yourself here, but there is no escape, Lorenzo DeMedici. Welcome to the abyss."

(The treehouse, 10:00 p.m. PST)

Wanda slumped against the side of her bed and heaved a tremendous sigh. Timmy sat across from her and folded his arms across his chest much like his counterpart was doing. Sophie opened the spell book yet again and leafed through its pages. No one had the slightest idea where to go from here and Wanda had exhausted herself sending The Other away. Now all she longed to do was sleep and forget, but neither opportunity presented itself.

Dizziness rocked her and she shut her eyes briefly in the hopes it would vanish. It did not. Without Cosmo, her magic level was low, but without good sleep and constant stress, plus her impromptu banishing, she was downright exhausted. In fact, she was so tired, she failed to recognize why she was able to send a being to that world in the first place. It wasn't because she was a fairy and knew more magic than anyone else in the house- it was because part of her was already there. And if part of her was there, then…

Yet try as she might, the answer evaded her. Rising unsteadily to her feet, she cast about for her wand, found nothing, and attempted to scramble up onto the bed. Unfortunately, she misjudged her weariness, because no sooner had she snatched the bed sheets than she pitched backward. Only Timmy rushing to her aid stopped her from hitting her head on the floor.

"You're going to sleep," he said firmly, cradling her. His neck bones rested against her oversensitive wings and she shivered. One of these days, if it meant hoisting a crane and pouring food down his throat, she'd put a little fat on those bones. That was, when the world returned to semi normalcy and Cosmo lay beside her. That day might never come.

"I'm not tired," she lied, but a yawn proved otherwise. Reluctant and indignant her godson had to cater to her, she scowled as he lay her down and then tucked her in. It wasn't long until sleep overtook her…but what an unusual dream…

Wanda's fingers swept the series of books on Lorenzo's shelf, but none spoke to her. She floated at the topmost level, her head inches away from the ceiling. She'd never been up this high in his library and never again. There was no point in it. She hadn't found a single useful tome.

A window displayed the stars, twinkling and dimming. The moon barely shone, like it too was dying. Her heart quickened and her breath shortened. She knew what it was to die, if only inwardly. She knew what it was to lose a part of herself she valued highly. Hanging her head, she admitted it would never return. She would never be as compassionate or as joyful as before, not after all this.

No lights illuminated the covers; only her wand provided a steady light. Abruptly, it sputtered and slumped in her hand. The stars twinkled into oblivion, a cloak swept the room, and she floated in darkness. Not normal darkness, but one so absolute to pervade her very soul. She held out her useless wand and breathed shallowly, terrified of who might be waiting for her. In Lorenzo's mansion, one never knew.

"Wanda…" a voice called, but she stiffened. Who knew her name? Who was calling her? Who was out there?

"You betrayed me, mi amor," whispered the voice stealing sleep in the night. "You should not have run to that buffoon. I am more than enough to satisfy you."

Wanda shoved her limp wand to protect herself and shuddered deeply. A faint purple aura lit up Juandissimo's face and illuminated the inhumanity. She wanted to cry, but no words came. In fact, her throat closed up entirely. Painful recollections of him forcing himself on her strangled any cognizant thought. Her wings stopped fluttering and she dropped like a stone into the abyss.

"You will not escape me!" he screamed and she began to sob, agonizing wails that ripped through her shut lips and obliterated her vision. He was coming after her…and she couldn't fly, much less defend herself. He was the beast that went bump in the night and she was powerless.

Soft, delicate pink enveloped her and she whimpered, petrified. Who was here now? Was it his crony? Who else went bump in the night? Who else was here to destroy her?

"Do not fret so much, sweetie," a voice eerily familiar whispered and its presence comforted her in its embrace. Juandissimo halted dead, his purple eyes searing her where she floated. He made a rude gesture and she moaned pitifully, crawling further into the embrace. The atmosphere shifted and he floated nearer, grinning cruelly and placing his translucent hands on her shirt. Wanda froze, paralyzed with fear.

"Enough! You have taken enough! You do not have the right to claim her!" the voice thundered, severe and intimidating. Glancing up, she spotted the telltale pink swirl and golden earrings, a gift from Cosmo. This wasn't a random spirit speaking back to him. She shivered, confused. It couldn't be…could it?

Juandissimo smirked, but when she glanced closer, she saw his spirit trembling before this one. He slid his hand under her shirt (Wanda pressed herself into her newfound guardian) and the spirit, snatching her suddenly vivacious wand, blasted him into the netherworld. It then stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth.

"You have lost your way, little one," the voice intoned and, shivering slightly, she looked up to see her own pink eyes staring back at her. The spirit smiled kindly and hugged her tightly. Wanda, nonplussed, let her hands fall by her sides. She didn't entirely understand what was going on.

"But I have missed you, just the same. You must have realized there was an irretrievable part of yourself before, didn't you? Your innocence, your true concern for others…you have lost yourself in the darkness.

"You cannot find Cosmo because you have lost the part tightly bound to him. He is your hikari, your light, and your pain has blinded you to him. You cannot call him back to you until you heal yourself. Otherwise, what use do you have of him? You will push him away when he wants to help…when he lovesyou and wishes you'd smile…"

Wanda swallowed hard, her half soul's words hitting home. Before Remy had stolen him away from her, she'd shoved him away. She hadn't let him in…and now, what was she going to do? Was she doomed to shove him away while she sobbed in the night? Cosmo was more than her husband- he was her soul mate and by denying him, she was denying part of her soul.

No wonder this part remained. She'd never retrieved it and never attempted to ease the ache Juandissimo caused. At least, not to the point where she was happy. She'd shared one intimate moment with Cosmo, but that already felt like another lifetime. Besides, no one was to say she wouldn't hide her pain from him again. The cycle might start again.

"How do you know all this?" Wanda inquired of herself and the spirit smiled faintly. A green glow erupted and Cosmo appeared before her. Terrible, awful yearning quaked her body and she reached out to him. But when she looked further…she saw Juandissimo staring back at her.

"Until you can look at Cosmo and see him as the fairy he is instead of Juandissimo, you will never be yourself again."

(Tootie's room, 12:00 am. PST)

It was midnight but Tootie wasn't tired in the slightest. Gary perched on her bed and watched her like a cat. Every time she glanced at him, he would smirk convincingly. She didn't know why he was here. Moreover, she had no idea why she'd invited him in the first place. Was it revenge against Timmy? Spite?

"Toot-Toot, I'm not your enemy, you know," Gary murmured, tossing a tennis ball up. It smacked the ceiling and he caught it deftly in his right hand. Up and down, smack, smack, smack. For several moments, she watched its unimpeded progress, and then he rolled over onto his stomach and smiled genuinely at her. The ball rolled onto the floor and ended by the door.

Turning from him, she gazed out the window. Her room was on the same side was Timmy's and she had an unobstructed view of the treehouse. Swallowing hard, she bit back a guilt flood. She ought to be in there with Wanda, but she hadn't desired to stay any longer than absolutely possible with Cosmo. They'd gotten into another argument; one Wanda had tried to halt to no avail. She'd snarled at the two and ran out before she said anything she regretted to the poor pink fairy.

"You can rant to me…" he prodded gently, rising and standing behind her. Their reflections shone in the glass and she swallowed hard again, hoping Wanda was all right. Why did she have to be Timmy's fairy godmother? She'd be a lot more inclined to help without him hanging around.

"Since when do you care what I think? You're always after Timmy," she remarked offhandedly, closing the curtains. Timmy blasted music in his room and she swore. Wordlessly, she darted out the door, slammed it, and yanked open his. Brand New poured out the speakers and she heard "die young and save yourself!" ring throughout the hall.

Timmy felt rather than saw her enter and shut off his speakers so he didn't have to yell over them. However, the tinny sound of "Gunning Down Romance" emanated from Sophie's room. Tootie would laugh if looking at Timmy didn't make her sick to her stomach. She'd had a lot of guilty flashes tonight, her experiences in other worlds among them. How could she have been so stupid? Why had she been that desperate? Why had she wanted him so badly? At least if she'd used restraint, then she wouldn't have broken the rules and betrayed herself.

Sighing heavily, she steeled herself for another argument. Opening her mind to him proved futile. He read her guilt and glared. The guilt she felt was swiftly replaced by resentment and fury. How dare he condemn her! What the hell was his problem? She'd done it because she needed him and he hadn't given a damn. What a surprise, he still didn't.

"Well, I was going to tell you to turn that music down, but I guess it's the only thing keeping your brains from leaking out your ears. That much pressure would shove anything back inside its shell," Tootie snapped, leaning against the doorway. If he was going to be a dick, then she could be a bitch.

"I'm surprised you heard it since you're so busy with Gary," Timmy retorted, folding his arms across his chest and glaring. "How many fucks does that make?"

"None, you little twit," she hissed at the very instant he passed Timmy's door. The color drained from her face in an instant and she slammed the door closed two seconds too late. Timmy's eyes narrowed to slits and he strode across the room to grip her upper arm painfully. However, she did not give him the satisfaction of crying out.

"Slut," Timmy snapped and shoved her out the door. "You lying, dirty slut. Enjoy your time with Gary, because I sure as hell don't want you here."

Fury stole any sensible response and she snarled. Blood thundering in her ears, she slammed the door in his face. He fumbled for the doorknob, but she punched it furiously and stomped off to her room. There was a certain message she'd received a few hours ago and it gave her a perfect excuse never to see him again.

Stars streaked across the sky, much like her tears. Up in a tree house overlooking her godson's lawn and house, a small pink faery hugged herself and swallowed hard, concentrating intensely. In order to combat her demons, she had to face them head-on. In her mind, that meant battling alone.

A terrible ache twisted her stomach and she glanced at Timmy's bedroom. Of all the creatures present, she'd known him the longest, but discussing this with him didn't feel like an option at the moment. Considering he'd almost gotten molested again thanks to her, she sincerely doubted he'd greet her with open arms. She hung her head, sighing heavily. Now that she actually contemplated turning to someone else, she discovered how limited her options were.

Still, what harm would it do to check in on him? She wouldn't have to wake him necessarily. Perhaps seeing him might stem her overwhelming feeling of failure. In the very least, it'd take her mind off Juandissimo and Cosmo for a few seconds. She retrieved her wand and closed her eyes, focusing on poofing into Timmy's room. Since her transgression into darkness, using her wand and light magic to transport herself proved more difficult.

Unfortunately, she misjudged and landed in Tootie's room. There, realizing this was one place she would not like to be discovered, she hid amongst her books. Tootie was ranting about her godson and cramming materials into a bag. Two phantom fairies, one she recognized, tried to waylay her. They mentioned something about missions and Jorgen, but Tootie snapped and they fell silent. Casting one last glance over the room, she shouldered her burden, shut the door, and vanished into the night.

Sighing heavily, aware she'd been privy to something important, she finally located the correct room. Timmy stared up at the ceiling dully and turned sharply in her direction. His blue eyes, illuminated by the moon shining through his open window, glared hatefully. Wanda retreated, holding her wand as a weapon in front of her. She should have figured he'd be like this.

"What, your pet isn't here?" he snapped churlishly and she sighed, descending onto his bed. He switched on the Crimson Chin lamp (for a few seconds, she thought he might strike her with it) and spotted her tear streaked face. As furious as he was for Lorenzo, he was more worried than angry at the moment. The guarded look left his face, replaced by concern. She sighed, wondering whether the transition was good or not.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, leaning over and scooping her up into his arms. Wanda swallowed hard, ignoring the role reversal and its peculiarity. Instead, she shut her eyes and allowed the simple comfort of his embrace to flood her senses. For a while, she said nothing and nestled in his arms. He might be all skin and bones, but he was her skin and bones.

Opening her eyes reluctantly to peer into his face, his cerulean eyes standing out amidst his skeletal visage, she sighed heavily. The plain lie would not suffice any more. Besides, she'd wanted this. She'd come here to talk, not to deny herself. Until she released everything, she'd have nothing.

"No…I'm not."

They were three simple words (four if you didn't count the contraction as one), but they lifted a tremendous burden. To admit aloud she wasn't as satisfied as she led on was a step in the right direction. Not everything was all right in this fairy tale. And that somehow pleased her to say. I'm not okay, I promise…

Awkwardly, disused to this sudden role reversal, Timmy murmured, "Do you-do you wanna talk?"

Truthfully, she had no idea where to start. She felt secure enough here, but now that she opened her mouth, her mind was curiously blank. Bewildered, she cast her mind about for a topic of discourse related to what she wanted and then sighed, grasping her wand tightly. Discussing these things with Cosmo had been somewhat easier because they were mentally bound. Timmy shared that with Tootie, but not her. Still, since she was the reason for it, she ought to be able to invoke a mind room session.

"I mean, it's all right if you don't want to," he said quickly, stroking her hair. She bit her lip, praying her trust wasn't misplaced. Though she'd gradually begun to trust him again since the Lorenzo mishap, letting him into her mind room was a huge step. What if he attacked there? She might not live to tell the tale.

"I-I want to show you something," she murmured, clutching her wand to her chest. "But if I do, you have to promise me that whatever you see you won't tell anyone. And you can't…you can't use it against me. This is very personal…and very painful. I need to be able to trust you…"

Timmy leaned forward, catching the urgency in her words. Her pink eyes revealed her desperation and vulnerability. He nodded, but she shook her head. Nods were meaningless. She wanted his word.

"I promise I won't hurt you."

Petrified, her whole body trembling, she seized her wand in one hand and his hand in the other. Concentrating on her mind room with every fiber of her being, she directed them safely to it. A metaphysical yank tore their conscious representations (Timmy cried out, surprised) from their bodies and situated them in her mind. The amount of magic needed astounded her, perhaps because she'd never done this before without leaning on Cosmo. Well, hopefully she'd recover quickly because otherwise, they were stuck unconscious until she could muster enough to send them back.

She sighed, wishing her room looked like it did beforehand. Instead of the floral pink decorating, everything was black. Everywhere they turned, varying shades met them. Timmy reluctantly sat on a couch and his eyes examined every inch of the place. Once in a while, a bit of pink, Cosmo's portrait, and the fire would intrude upon the darkness and depressing aspects, but they were fighting a losing battle. Timmy glanced at her, floating motionlessly and staring into the fire, hypnotized. It crackled like always, but it too carried a hint of the darkness in her soul.

"Wanda, what is this place? And why's it so black? It looks like a funeral home," Timmy remarked quietly, feeling like if he spun around, he'd find a coffin. She hesitantly left the fire and glanced at her godson. Like always, mind projections showed whatever the person wished themselves to appear. He wasn't emaciated here, but she knew, without checking a mirror, that she donned all black. It matched the decorum and her mood whenever she came here.

"This? This is my mind room, sweetie. It's where I go to relax…" she trailed off, touching her hair. Timmy stared at it avidly and she conjured up a mirror to spot whatever he was so fascinated with. She was unnerved but not unsurprised to discover her normally bright pink curls had gone completely black. They tumbled freely out of her bun and she shivered herself, seeing the fairy Juandissimo had violated staring back at her. Perhaps this wasn't such a great idea.

"This doesn't look terribly relaxing to me," he replied, still in a hush because this new Wanda terrified him. In a few moments, she might brandish her wand and threaten him, if the past were to repeat. But when he glanced into her eyes, he saw sorrow, not her loathing for all creatures. She was remorseful for the fairy she'd become.

Lowering her gaze, she settled onto a stool beside the couch and shook her head. Carefully, like dealing with a wild animal, he crept closer to her. This was unsettling him and, when she saw it through his eyes, she understood why. She'd come to, well, not embrace, but accept the void surrounding her. She kept it at bay in her waking hours, but when she came here, it resounded throughout. Timmy must've been more convinced by the illusion than I thought…or else he didn't think it went this deep.

"It's not, sport. It's not relaxing to run through my memories only to blame myself every time. It's not relaxing to force myself to believe those lies. It's not relaxing at all to be here, but it's my mind. It's the only place I can truly be alone with my thoughts, whatever good or ill that does me," she explained weakly, folding her arms across her chest.

Timmy scowled, creeping close enough to hold her hand. Though his hand quaked, he cradled it in his own. She gazed at him steadfast and the corners of his lips turned up. In the face of all this, however, he couldn't smile. It was all right; as long as he was brave enough to try comforting her, she didn't care.

"It doesn't seem to be doing you any good at all. I mean, look at this place. It's like you're sinking into a depression just being here."

Tearing her gaze from him, she gazed at the fire instead. How precious fire was, especially here. One wrong move, a sudden gust, and her life essence would vanish in the blink of an eye. Life seemed to be strong, but it was in reality extremely fragile. If Lorenzo had discovered the truth about mind rooms sooner, well, she shuddered to think of what might have become of her. In conscious, waking hours, mind rooms were inaccessible. It required a meditative state and if she were preoccupied in other matters, he could have broken in and destroyed her completely.

Yet minus a Lorenzo, she was doing a rather good job of destroying herself. Look at what she called therapy- torturing herself needlessly over memories that agonized her too much to look away and then laying the blame on the wrong creature. Unfortunately, she hadn't the foggiest notion how to break the cycle. That was where Timmy came in. He had to have some idea…or at least could prevent her from blaming herself again.

"I…I'm going to show you something. It's one of my memories…and it's rather graphic. I can't seem to tell you verbally, so I have to show you. I might react badly, but you have to let it run, okay? Hold me until it's over."

The words sounded strange, but the concept was stranger. He blinked, glancing from her to the newly arrived projector screen. Wordlessly, he swept her up into his arms again and cradled her to his chest. Holding up her wand, she enacted her past and hoped for the best. This was not going to be pleasant.

(Less than a year ago, time indeterminable due to mental blocking)

Wanda shivered, yet the instant she did she cursed herself vehemently. She had no need for warmth or for material objects. Power and glory over her enemies was all she required. An image of Cosmo drifted by and she shivered again, longing to put a name to this ineffable entity. Who was he? Why did he haunt her?

Juandissimo appeared out of nowhere and stroked her face. The movement was chaste, but not for long. In due time, he'd sweep her away from the streets of Marseilles and into their chateau where he would either make sweet love to her…or force it. The latter occurred more than the former and if she had her wand, she'd tear his throat out for trying. All her puny struggling accomplished nothing- it seemed to turn him on instead of repelling him.

"There is no one out there for you, mi amor. We are alone…you are my wife and always will be," he whispered, grabbing her about the waist roughly and allowing his hands to rub her stomach and pelvis. Immediately she froze, gritting her teeth and her eyes narrowing disdainfully. She attempted to attack only to find herself rendered immobile. Pure, unadulterated loathing coursed through her veins and she spat bitterly.

"We have always been like this. Don't you remember?" he continued, sliding his hand beneath her stretch pants. Every muscle in Wanda's body tightened and she worked her jaw, discovering it luckily to be functioning. She might be paralyzed, but her tongue wasn't. He wasn't going to take her without a fight.

"Liar," she spat, her saliva landing on his forehead. "When I find out who Cosmo is, I'm running off with him and putting you six feet under."

Whatever she expected, the reaction was nowhere near as subdued. He roared at the mention of his rival and poofed them up to the chateau where he slammed her hard on the bed. Weightless, she bounced a few times before landing; he flung himself after her with a growl and pinned her motionless arms to the bed. Every cell in his body was alight with malice, jealousy, and a touch of insanity. She stared up at him and saw only madness.

"There is no Cosmo, you fool," he growled, slapping her across the face. Defiance and hatred glittered in her darkened eyes, almost completely black. Whoever Cosmo was, regardless of whether she believed he'd come or not, he offered her a window of hope and a weapon against Juandissimo. The fact she'd recalled his name was an act of defiance, though she knew not why.

"There never was and there never will be, do you understand?" he hissed, ripping off her shirt in one fell swoop. An unpleasant sensation rocked her and nausea gripped her stomach. She had an inkling of what he had in mind- and so she spat on him repeatedly in hopes he'd stop.

"Fool!" he growled again and the scene went black.

Timmy exhaled softly, glancing at the convulsing pink fairy in his arms. She'd shut the memory off, but it continued for her. She wanted to spare him the expense of seeing her brutalized, but he was already shaken enough not to argue. Wracking sobs caused her to bury her head in his chest and wail unabashed. He wasn't sure if it was a reaction to her past or because the nightmare continued for her.

Unnerved and at a loss, he slowly began to stroke her hair and back. It took her a good while to calm down; she wrapped her arms around him and bawled. He rocked her back and forth, unsettled but realizing she needed him more than he needed to be the child in the relationship right now. Fortunately for both of them, the tears abated and she was finally able to spin around and regard him.

Timmy stared back, at a loss. Two prevalent questions surfaced and he eyed her warily. Some pink was seeping back into her clothes and hair. Simply sharing her recollection convalesced her. He only hoped he didn't get nightmares.

"I…I should have picked something less graphic. I'm sorry, sweetie. This is my fault," she whispered, bowing her head. Tears brimmed on her eyelashes and he wiped them away, still feeling awkward but adjusting.

"You don't think anything else is your fault, do you?" he asked before he could stop himself. She blinked up, her large pink eyes reflecting his face. There was a certain beauty in the opalescent orbs mirroring his own and the wisdom beyond their visible years that they held.

"What do you mean?" she murmured, though she knew damn well what he meant. Verbalizing it and thinking it were two different things. He wrapped his arms tighter around her back, chary not to touch her wings.

"Do you blame yourself for, you know…" he whispered and she shuddered.

"Yes," she said simply and sighed heavily. "Sport, before we go on, I should mention that you can't lie in the mind room. That means we have to be brutally honest with each other, no matter how much it might hurt. I understand if you don't want to continue-"

Cupping her chin in his palm and forcing her to look up at him, he said, "I'm not turning back now. And this isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself."

Smiling humorlessly, she replied, "Do you blame yourself for what Lorenzo did?"

He glanced away but that gave her all the response she needed. Extending her fingertips, she brushed his cheek. The motherly comfort returned his focus to her, but he couldn't muster a smile. Unfortunately, nor could she.

"We have our work cut out for us."