Author's Note/Disclaimer: Okay, sorry for the way, way long delay with this. I honestly didn't start writing it until a week ago. I promise to be better with this, considering there are probably a couple chapters left and then wow, TOS and soulfulsin are finished. Jeez.

Fairly Oddparents does not belong to me. It belongs to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon.

Chapter Fourteen: Hanging by a Thread

(Marseilles)

The wind whistled through a wall crack; its frigidity chilled her to the bone. However, the creature nestled on her lap slept soundly, supernaturally so. The only indication he slept, rather than died, was the steady rise and fall of his chest. Lamentably, its movement, at first strong, grew weaker and she swallowed hard, painfully aware how little time she truly had. Regardless, she shivered, unable to quell the fear running rampant in this place and the memories it invoked. Yet if she failed to combat the past, she would lose her future with him.

Swallowing hard, she clenched her eyes shut as though this simple action might dispel the nightmares. Closing them, however, only brought them back in full force. If she turned her head in one direction, she felt Juandissimo's hands shoving off her shirt, her pants, and any other article of clothing. If she turned in another, she felt him forcing his way inside her with all the passion and ruthlessness of a wild beast. Tears streamed down her face, but she obstinately wiped them away. The only creature capable of helping her now was herself and she had to face her past, not run away squealing like a petrified dog, its tail between its legs.

The one thing she truly needed, above anything else, was a chance to face him once more and assert her power over him. Yet how could she accomplish this when his murderer lay unconscious? In the void, she'd come face to face with that part of herself she'd lost months ago, but it stood to reason other creatures might reside there as well. If she could draw forth Juandissimo as she recalled him, machoness and personality intact, she might be able to accomplish what she set out, locate her beloved Cosmo, and battle Remy/Eschcolex. The tasks before her daunted her, but she had no choice in the matter. It was either that or lose him for good and live her life wracked with guilt over the fact it was her fault.

How indeed did a creature find its way into the void without dying first? Part of her was tethered there, still completely sane and present. Perhaps if she tugged on it, she might be drawn into the world herself. Unfortunately, that also left the very real possibility of, without an anchor in this world, floating adrift. She shuddered, clutching Cosmo all the tighter. The prospect hardly appealed to her.

Then again, if it meant a continued existence with Cosmo…

"No!"

The cry was such a violent imposition on her thoughts, she leapt to her feet to locate the source. Cosmo dropped onto the bed and rolled onto his side, still utterly oblivious to the world. Wand in hand, she scrutinized all aspects of the room to ascertain its origin. Other than the wind's comments, nothing spoke. She panted, chest heaving, already unnerved. That voice sounded so familiar, almost like Cosmo…

"You can't leave them."

Again, the voice, but now, a small drop in her magic levels as well. Whoever beckoned, it drew upon her as its prime energy source. Only one creature was bonded tightly enough to her to accomplish this task and she gulped, brandishing her wand. Sparks flew warningly, landing on the sheets and setting them ablaze. Swiftly, she pounded and the flames died out. The eerie, disembodied voice continued, sending shivers down her spine. Her arm hairs stood on end.

"Call Sophie to you."

"Cosmo?" she cried, rubbing her upper arms. Oh, please don't tell me I'm going insane. That's the last thing I need right now. Well, that and Juandissimo reappearing, but I guess I'm going to have to contend with that nasty reality soon enough.

No answer, but the wind rattled the branches against the window fiercely. Magic ensured no wind actually entered through the open stone windows, but the cracks in the wall overrode it. Shuddering once more, she laid her head upon Cosmo's chest to make sure he was in fact sans a soul. A trickle heartbeat reached her ears, definitely not the result of his being strong enough to speak. Then where was the voice coming from?

Mentally, she ticked off who it couldn't be. Neither of her godchildren were here and even Timmy wouldn't be cruel enough to play this type of trick. The transistor might be capable of producing an oddity like that, but Tootie had it and was no longer in this realm anyway. Lorenzo had no magic, at least, none so powerful, and he too was back in Dimmsdale. Mark and Vicky were completely unaware of the matter, which left only Remy and his demon friend. Part of her longed badly to discover it was a cruel prank, but the other wished just as badly it was really him reaching out to her.

"Cosmo?" she called again and the lightest caress on her face followed. His bangs lifted and fell according to the breeze and when she touched his hand, it was strangely warm. That gave her all the answer she needed.

Shutting her eyes again, she leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth. Her fingers ran through his full green hair once and she fell back on her knees to caress his cheek. Glancing at him once more to make sure nothing bad would happen in the span it took for her to grab Sophie, she cast a magical ward around the castle. Only magic matching her magical signature (and her goddaughter's) could enter.

"I love you…" she whispered and then rushed to embrace him tightly once more. "And I promise you, by all that is sacred, I will return as soon as fairy possible."

(Timmy's house, Sophie's room, 8 p.m. PST)

Sophie perched on her bed and sighed, running her fingers over a well worn copy of another fairy spellbook. Would this one give her the answers she sought? It seemed dubious, honestly. Though its must permeated the room and belied its age, she hardly believed in the fairy tale ending any more. After all, what had fairies brought her but grief and trouble? Yes, she loved her fairy godmother, but magic clearly wrought no miracles. If anything, it ensured a harder life for both humans and fairies.

She sighed, wishing something would leap out at her and she could simply escape. Yet the more her fingers traced the letters, the more she immersed herself in ancient magick (not all of it English) and forced herself to learn French, the more she labored, the less she found. Her heart sunk as she painstakingly placed this book aside into the pile for "maybe". Already quite large, it threatened to overturn with this new addition.

Her entire room was a series of "maybes", "look again", "possibilities". She couldn't bring herself to discard of a single book and deem it unlikely. Truthfully, she had a hard time believing that out of all these tomes, nothing provided an answer. Somewhere, immersed in the French, the nonsense, and the veiled violence, laid her solution. Regardless of what she'd learned from Juandissimo and Wanda, she believed wholeheartedly if magic caused it, magic could fix it. There was just the matter of finding the correct counter spell.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her thin, wavering brown line snap onto a pink one, but thought nothing of it. Right now, her mind, too boggled down with anxiety, hardly noticed at all. She reached for yet another tome, placed it tenderly into her lap, and leaned her head close enough to rub her nose against the page. She was tired, so very tired, of looking fruitlessly. But she told herself, 'it's in the next one, the next one…it's here somewhere. It has to be'.

"Magic can hurt as much as it helps," Wanda murmured, floating over to her side. "It, like the power of words, can inflict far more damage than anyone anticipates. The two can wrench souls apart into oblivion, make them writhe in agony, or pilot them straight into pleasure and ecstasy. Magic and words are only transitory, like human lives are to us. Yet their effects linger on…"

Sophie turned, frowning lightly. Wanda plucked the book from her lap and scanned it, prodding it with her wand. It caught fire and then burned itself out on her carpet. Dismayed, Sophie skittered away as swiftly as the carpet would permit her. She eyed Wanda as though the wand might combust her next. It rested comfortably in her hand, however; dormant.

"Magic, like words, can be used for evil. The wrong word or spell can destroy a person's life or leave them in a depression so deep, they may never recover. Words, when you think about it, have a supernatural power. If Remy hadn't pledged his allegiance to Eschcolex, then his words would have been squandered and his grief over Juandissimo's death insignificant. Because he gave voice to his obsession, it was allowed to continue.

"But words and spells alone cannot be held fully accountable. Indeed, actions and emotions play a part. If I hadn't let Juandissimo's actions hold such sway over my emotions and I hadn't let Timmy's words affect them as well, I wouldn't be here in the first place.

"I know this might sound like a lot of psychobabble to you, but that was a fancy way of disguising my real request. Sophie, I need you. I'm going after Cosmo's soul in the void and in order to do that, I have to combat the parts of myself that I lost thanks to Juandissimo. I have to face what happened to me and live with it. I can't do that yet and because of that, I may lose Cosmo forever."

She hung her head, abashed, and Sophie gently brushed a curl behind her ear. When she sat like that, she resembled a porcelain figure, albeit one equipped with delicate translucent wings and a shimmering crown. Oddly, she felt protective over her and wished she hadn't been hurt as badly as she'd witnessed, if not worse. Good creatures didn't deserve this type of torture, especially not someone so kind hearted and compassionate. Wanda offered her a feeble smile and then rose swiftly, glancing about to ascertain whether Timmy had discovered she'd returned.

She certainly hoped not. After his rash, inconsiderate comments, she'd rather face a few of her previous godchildren than him. Still, she kept mum about it in front of Sophie. It wasn't any of her business and if it hadn't been for Juandissimo, she'd never have involved her very personal affairs with her godchildren. Then again, Juandissimo had turned her completely topsy-turvy, so she wasn't that surprised.

Sophie cocked her head, wondering what on earth Wanda had mused on, and then decided not to ask. Instead, she rose, eying the ash pile distastefully, and then her piles of pathetic obsession. Wanda needed her help and she came first, not her own selfish desires. Besides, there'd be plenty of time to figure everything out afterwards…if there was an afterwards. She'd no idea what Wanda planned, but it sounded rather dangerous and desperate. And if Juandissimo had taught her anything, it was that desperate creatures and love often ended badly.

"Of course I'll help, Wanda. What do you want me to do?" she murmured, watching her drift up to her level, which wasn't that hard considering there was virtually no difference in height.

Wanda smiled grimly. "Keep me sane…and if it looks like I'm lingering too long, bring me back. Can you do that?"

"I'll try…" she whispered, none too confident. How could she bring her back? And from where? Where was she going that could spell insanity? What on earth was going on? Why did it feel like she only had half the story? Gah! Just because she was nine didn't mean that she deserved to be kept in the dark.

"There is no try. There is only do," Wanda replied, a half smile framing the corners of her lips. She hugged her lightly, held up her wand, and the two were gone before Timmy, Lorenzo, or anyone else realized anything happened.

(Marseilles, 3:23 a.m. approx)

Sophie glanced around wondrously, gaping at the architecture. A beautiful four poster bed, red velvet drapes concealing its entrance, stood in the center of the room. To the right sat a wooden bureau and atop it was a small antique mirror. The wind whistled through the open window, but glass shards clung to its corners. Apparently, someone had broken it, perhaps in a fit of rage. Sophie shuddered- despite the beauty of the room, she sensed great fury lingering and emanating from Wanda.

"You hate this place, don't you?" she murmured, pivoting as Wanda drew back the curtains to reveal Cosmo, breathing shallowly and limp on the sheets. She flew immediately towards his side and pulled a large, blood stained tome. Sophie gulped, unnerved. Nothing good could come from that.

In fact, when she opened it, it shrieked and a large, unpleasant stain covered the front page. It sparkled red as though it had previously circled through a magical user's veins. When Wanda's fingers caressed the contents' page to ascertain the location of her spell, a large paper needle leapt up, pricked her deeply, and then drank deeply of her blood. Sophie's eyes widened and she jumped to break the contact, but Wanda held up her hand to stop her. Helpless, she watched her get woozy and then, at long last, the needle disappeared.

"…requires a blood sacrifice," she whispered, rubbing her temples and swaying slightly. Sophie crawled across the bed and wrapped her arms around her to prevent her from falling facefirst into the sheets. Pink sparkles danced around her index finger and healed the wound, but didn't replace the lost blood. The book seemed content to keep it.

Swallowing hard, she eyed the book and then the fairy wielding it capriciously. Wanda offered her a weak smile she did not return. Her "this is a very bad idea" senses were throbbing. Maybe if she convinced her to choose another tome, any other spell, she might change her mind. Nothing light came out of blood sacrifices and dark magic.

"When you said 'keep me sane' and 'bring me back', what did you mean? Where are you going?" she cried, on the verge of panic. She remembered her fairy godmother under the influence of dark magic and had no desire to repeat the experience. Not only this, but the combination of blood and her words made her wonder if she was going to return alive, never mind unscathed. She didn't want to bear witness to her death.

Wanda smiled cryptically but said nothing. Instead, she thumbed through the tome until the pages eddied in an unseen whirlwind and then halted on a particularly gruesome illustration of a fairy's soul being ripped from their still breathing body. The figure stumbled, vomiting blood, until it collapsed and a sinister demon hovered over like the angel of death. In fact, a scythe materialized and slashed the creature open while unearthly wails erupted. Sophie thought she was going to be sick, especially with the accompanying gore.

Certain Wanda was making the mistake of her life, she reached towards the book to snatch it out of her hands and prevent any further catastrophes. The thing snarled, baring fangs out of the spine, and snapped them menacingly at her hand. Blood sparkled on the tips and she realized, stomach lurching, that if the blood sparkled as Wanda's had, then it couldn't be ordinary blood. It had to be fairy blood, which meant other fae had done this in the past. And oh, where was the trash bin when she needed it?

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she murmured, "but you can't come."

Then, clearing her throat, she intoned:

"Les spiriteux du passé, aide moi.

(The spirits of the past, help me).

Je souhaite retrouver mon mari

(I wish to find again my husband)

J'espirite que ma sang marche et il est a ton satisfaction

(I hope that my blood works and is to your satisfaction)

It faut necessite que je trouve…s'il vous plait, entend ma crie.

(It's necessary I find him; please, hear my cry/plea)."

For a split second, Sophie thought nothing had happened and, frankly, relief flooded her. No creepy spells and no possibility of Wanda hurting herself. Sure, it might upset her to discover that one way to locate Cosmo's soul had failed utterly, but at least she wouldn't resort to such obviously black magick. She exhaled slowly, greatly relieved. Why should Wanda use dark magick anyway? It'd made her a horrible creature the last time…

The instant she thanked her lucky stars the spell hadn't worked, a large black ball of energy enveloped Wanda's chest. She gasped, batting at it, and Sophie tried to help, but it sensed her and flung her against the wall. She slumped down, dazed. The next few moments passed like eternity, yet in reality took seconds.

A tainted pink energy tore from her chest and Wanda screamed, writhing in pain. The pink fairy twisted this way and that, but the energy grabbed hold, seizing every tendril and shaking her to drain the last drop. Empty, she was flung against Cosmo and there she lay, agonizingly still. Only the minute lifts and drops of her body indicated life at all. Otherwise, with her pale face and rigid figure, she might have been a corpse. Sophie whimpered, clutching her hands to her mouth.

Unsteadily, she crept towards the bed and cradled Wanda in her lap. A very thin, weak pink sliver trailed from her hands and bound itself to her brown. She understood the implication innately- lifeline. Wanda's essence was on the other end and the further she descended into that world, the tighter the line would become. If she let it snap…then she'd lose Wanda forever. She had to rein her in. She just hoped she was capable of it…

"Good luck, Wanda-san."

Forever faded into the streams of consciousness and death. Simply plunging herself into its depths illuminated her path faintly. Ghosts, phantoms, and figments lurked ahead, their memories returning upon her arrival. The three creatures she sought lay somewhere in this catacomb of eternal night. Part of her relished the void and the other longed to locate Cosmo and hightail it out of here. He was her hikari, her light. Now more than ever, she belonged to the underworld and she needed the sun to drag her aboveground.

"Cosmo?" she called, shivering and running her translucent hands along her arms. A few specters halted, stunned to spot a living creature amongst their ranks. However, their awareness of others had dwindled to nothing thanks to their longevity and they gave her only a fleeting glance. None of them were the creatures she sought.

A brittle wind from nowhere ruffled her hair and then tousled her wings. The breeze, at first only bitterly cold, began to rip and tear into her like a savage beast. She cried out, batting at thin air desperately. Tears streamed freely down her face and she rubbed angrily at her eyes to stop, but the agony of her wings wrenched from her back made her scream. It was like having an arm or a leg yanked by a thousand pound press and then chopped into pieces by an ax.

"You break too easily," a voice whispered. "How can you hope to reclaim him when you are not whole yourself?"

A bizarre pink light enveloped her and in it, she spotted her twinkling fairy blood. Yet it wasn't like any other she'd seen. It reeked of dark magick and when it trickled out of her body, it burned like acid. She shuddered, unable now to stop crying or prevent her cries. Meanwhile, the blood continued to stream and she howled.

"You are tainted by his deeds. How can you hope to share telepathy and white magick with him when you are accustomed to the darkness?"

Then, a sensation she had never experienced- her stomach swelled and she knew inherently she was pregnant. The creature ripped its way out and its claws gnashed what little skin remained. It had the figure of a demon, body twisted and gnarled, sinuous and skeletal, but when it turned to her…it had Juandissimo's face. This time, she was so stunned, she actually couldn't scream at all. She could only stare in dull horror.

"You are no longer solely his. You have broken marriage bonds and the link of telepathy by desecrating it with Juandissimo's actions. How can you unite what has been seared away?"

Then, the blood stopped oozing, her back stopped aching from the loss of her wings, and her stomach healed. She shivered, hugging herself, but she had no arms. Dumbstruck, she stared as the pink light grew closer and slowly developed into a figure she recognized, one she'd seen every day when she glanced into the mirror. It was the one telling her she had to return…and it had her arms, brilliant pink hair and eyes, and sang of the purity she once possessed. When she saw her, she wanted to weep, but no tears would come. She'd cried herself out.

"Not all of these events are your fault, of course, but they have led to the state in which you are, my dear," she said, reaching up to touch her with her own hands and arms. The sensation induced another shiver, but she forced herself to calm. She needed this part of herself because this was the side that fit so perfectly with Cosmo. She might have regained her memories, but she'd lost this. Yet she had no idea how to reclaim it.

"Come with me and help me find him…" she whispered and her replica shook her head, floating aside. Cosmo was behind her, but when she tried to fling herself at him, he faded away. A lump surfaced in her throat, but she thought she was grasping what occurred in this world. Cosmo wasn't hers yet because the her he belonged to wasn't part of the whole. Until she regained her arms, purified her blood and spirit, and cemented herself, she wasn't going to get him back, either.

"You must find Juandissimo and heal yourself before you can aspire to hold Cosmo again. Until you can come to terms with Juandissimo's actions, you will remain adrift. And I cannot help you nor will I rejoin you until I know we are compatible."

The words penetrated deeply and resounded like a gong. Her other half raised her arm and she was flung back into the real world.

(Dimmsdale, CA, Timmy Turner's kitchen, seven p.m. PST)

Lorenzo DeMedici propped his chin up on his palm and stared evenly at his former protégé and sire. Timmy stared determinedly at the wall and idly kicked Gary, who was seated across from him. This was a lovely little dinner party they were having, considering no one had talked in the past hour. Instead, they all looked around and glared, united by one creature that hadn't shown up all day.

"You drove her away," Gary snarled finally, kicking his creator soundly in the leg. Timmy swore and then kicked him back hard in the shin. It was hard to tell which face wore more hatred, Gary's or Timmy's. They were both frozen in snarls and grimaces.

"That's a rather odd way to say you hate someone, by playing footsie," Lorenzo said idly. "Though I suppose when I see you two screwing around upstairs, I perhaps can write it off as sexual tension?"

Timmy stared blankly, at first too stunned to respond. He opened his mouth, shut it, and then glanced at Gary. The imaginary boy's eyes were narrowed to slits and he grabbed the salt shakers as if tempted to cram them down someone's throat to prove he didn't lust after any boy. Naturally, Timmy continued to stare blankly and Lorenzo chuckled, amused.

"Ah, Timmy, Timmy, Timmy. Why didn't you tell me you liked greased up imaginary friends who speak poor English? I could have improvised," Lorenzo said, grinning cattily.

"But I suppose that would be like masturbation, would it not? He is part of your imagination, after all. Tsk, tsk, smart enough to wish for an imaginary friend but not nearly intelligent enough to figure out which end of the sword is up."

The wheels in Timmy's mind finally churned and he snatched the butter knife off the table. Furious, he brandished it at his throat and growled. Gary rolled his eyes, intrigued but not surprised. He rested his elbows on the table and decided to watch. Hey, there was nothing good on TV anyway. Might as well watch his creator and another disaster from his head go at it.

"Do you know what this is?" he hissed, twisting it this way and that in the light. Lorenzo had to admit, that thing looked positively deadly…to a bug. The knife's edge was so dull; he'd have better luck scratching him with his fingernails than cutting him open with that. Nonetheless, since he knew Timmy was a bit thick, he was going to indulge him and then laugh afterwards. Heaven knew he hadn't had a good laugh at his expense in a long, long time.

"You finally learned your utensils! Bravo, my boy!" he smirked, clapping. "I knew you had it in you. Now, next we're going to learn just what on earth a spork is."

Timmy, taken back, continued to stare. The knife slipped from his hands and clattered to the poor floor that never saw it coming. Aggravated, he dashed madly towards the drawer and yanked everything out in his haste to find a butcher knife. Gary's eyes widened, but he remained seated. This was getting good. The trailers for tonight's episode hadn't nearly given away everything.

Seizing it, he gripped the handle tightly and strode towards him. He raised it to strike when his arm suddenly froze. Behind him, eyes narrowed to slits, floated Wanda. She gave him an incredibly dirty look, rested on the table, and scrutinized everyone. Still fresh from her latest encounter in the void, she was still pale and clammy. Occasionally, she'd shudder deeply and hug herself to ascertain her arms were indeed still attached.

"Timmy Turner! I leave for one day and you're already at each other's throats? Is this Lord of the Flies? Are you three capable of maintaining a relationship without trying to kill each other? Do I have to step in every time? I pop in for five seconds to make sure everyone's all right and I see you with a butcher knife! Why can't you act like a human?" she growled, waving her wand a bit too harshly and sending the knife and him sailing towards the drawer. Lorenzo laughed, imagining him compacting into a knife as well, when she spun around on him too.

"And you! Couldn't you figure out on your own that leaving Timmy alone might be a good idea? Hmm? Or do you enjoy having sharp objects brandished at your throat when you have no magic to defend yourself? Maybe you want to be killed again," she snarled and Gary bolted, in no mood to be her next target. The kitchen door swung back and forth and the sounds of the front door slamming shut echoed through the house. A thin, complacent smile flitted across her face but died quickly.

"Like I want Cosmo to be wrenched away and lose him forever," she snapped, directing this last comment at Timmy, who dropped his gaze and flushed shamefully. "But apparently I do, because I live in this house and like everyone else here, I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Wanda…" Timmy whispered, so faint she had to strain to hear him. "I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you like that. You know I love you."

Wanda said nothing. For all the impact his statement had, he might as well never had said it. Instead, she shut her eyes and grasped her wand tightly. Her knuckles whitened painfully. Staying in the void for a day had drained her more than she thought, but she had no choice. Without Cosmo, her magick levels were depleting much faster than she could renew them.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, reaching out to grab her off the table. She whacked him with her wand and his sleeve caught fire. Panic stricken, he beat at it until Wanda absently minded held up her wand and it crumbled into ashes. Timmy blinked blankly.

"I…I'm going to be gone for a while. I'll come in once in a while to check on you, but that's it. I need…" she glanced around, losing her train of thought. She scanned the kitchen like she'd never seen it before and Timmy's frown deepened. Once again, he reached towards her, but she floated out of range.

Exhaling deeply, she waved her wand once more and cast a spell over Lorenzo to prevent him from harming Timmy in her absence. Another wave procured a device to tell her when they definitely merited her input, one to stop murder from occurring, and one last one to make sure Vicky and Mark never came up unless it was an emergency. Once finished, she glanced at Timmy as if to determine whether he deserved a hug or not.

Ultimately, however, she capitulated that since he wasn't going to see her for weeks at a time and he already longed for Tootie, she might as well do something. She offered him the largest smile she could muster, which turned out to be the slightest upraising of her lips. With that, she nodded curtly at Gary and Lorenzo, held up her wand once more, and vanished into the night.

Months passed, Wanda occasionally popping in to lecture Lorenzo and force him to seek redemption for his actions. She also witnessed the many, many arguments between Timmy, Tootie, and Gary over minute things, but decided, for the most part, to stay out. Meanwhile, she strengthened herself for the battle ahead…