Cosmo hadn't heard from Wanda and his anxiety ramped up. It was only due to Jorgen's heavy influence that the green haired faerie hadn't flown into a frenzy and dashed into the house. Or attempted to, at any rate. The Council was correct in that there were barricades to reach the house, although at this point, Cosmo was beyond caring. He was almost beyond sanity. That foul creature had visited his wife again and his lower body was aflame. He kept expecting to see sparkling fairy blood on his black pants.

Jorgen, whose usual tactics involved storming the castle, was at a loss. Cosmo didn't understand how they could possibly wait for reinforcements. Rain lashed the windows and thunder boomed. Lighting flashed. Cosmo was losing what little control he had over his magic. And the Fairy Council was sitting on their asses doing nothing.

((Wanda!)) he cried, though there'd been no response. ((Wanda, Wanda, Wanda!))

Her agony scorched him and, for once, he wished he were dead if only because it meant that Wanda would stop suffering. He felt her sobs and cried for her. Timmy and Chloe were miserable and Wanda was miserable for them, more for them than herself. That was his wife. He wished he could be so altruistic while languishing in pain.

They had arrived at the house, but there was no possible entrance. Cosmo had tried repeatedly to poof in, only to be rebuffed. He was electrocuted each time, as if that were much of a deterrent. Jorgen grew tired of his pathetic attempts to gain access and placed him in a little rubber ball, which Cosmo raced along like a hamster.

"If we cannot gain access this way, then we will have to wait for the Fairy Council to enter," Jorgen sighed. "They are more powerful than we are."

Cosmo cried out, but the ball muffled his words. He couldn't wait. Didn't Jorgen understand that Wanda's pain was driving him insane? Not to mention how concerned he was about Timmy and Chloe. He raged, pounding his fists against the ball. Jorgen sighed again, scooping him up and poofed back to Fairy World. Once there, he placed Cosmo in a hamster cage and locked him inside.

"You will be safest there while I attempt to expedite their decision," Jorgen informed him.

Cosmo could feel his sanity fracturing under the onslaught. Wanda's feelings and agony were too much for his flimsy mind to contain. He had never been a bulwark of strength even at the best of times. He was terrified of what would become of him if he couldn't hang on, especially if Wanda needed him.

His grip was slipping, and he descended, spiraling down into the mental abyss waiting for him.

The door hadn't unlocked. She'd waited for thirty minutes and listened to her godson sob while her heart broke for him. Then that mysterious stranger had whisked her away again and she was torn between her agony and that of her godchildren's. Her nether regions were on fire, fairy blood soaked the bed, and she had turned her head to the side to conceal her sobs. They wracked her body and she felt her hopes for Cosmo rescuing them diminish into nothing. Cosmo wasn't going to come. Even if he could somehow penetrate their defenses, why would he? After everything he'd said and done lately, he didn't care enough about her to save her. If she imagined otherwise, she was deluding herself.

Normally, when she was in pain, she used magic to whisk it away. That was no longer a recourse available to her. She huddled in a ball around her torn privates and wept, in so much pain that she could barely think straight. Her lovers, both past and present, had never been so forceful as to tear her vaginal wall. This one had, as well as hitting her so hard that she could have sworn he'd left handprints.

The anti-faerie, for she assumed it could only be an anti-faerie who was this nefarious, had stolen her blanket away. She had only the bottom sheet, soaked in blood, if she wanted modesty. The only reason she could see for modesty would be to talk to her godchildren and she could barely muster the energy to lift her head. Chloe and Timmy were likewise ruined. She would have endured this a hundred times to prevent her godchildren from suffering.

Footsteps sounded in the hall outside her room and she choked on a sob. Unable to suppress them or to speak, she waited for the door to open. It had to be either Lorenzo or Azalea. Timmy had been locked in, the last that she'd checked, and Chloe bond to the bed.

"Wanda?"

She turned her head weakly toward Timmy's voice. Her godson was bleeding, blood running down his leg and along his thighs. She was too weak to cover herself, but his gaze didn't stray from her face. Whatever he saw there must've been awful, because he winced, stepping back. Like Chloe, every movement he made pained him.

"I know I'm being stupid, but Cosmo's gonna come, right?" he asked.

"I don't know, sport," she said and turned her head, unable to look him in the eye. Her hair was out of its customary bun and pink curls, soaked with sweat and blood, stuck to her head.

Timmy crept closer to her and she wished he'd go away. She didn't want him to see her like this; moreover, she didn't want to see him as he was. It reminded her that she'd failed him, him and Chloe.

"I didn't know fairy blood sparkled," he whispered.

"It takes a lot to really hurt us, hun," she replied. Timmy stopped, standing beside her. He touched her shoulder and she shuddered, fighting a whimper. Her whole body ached, but her groin was the worst.

"I wish we were out of here!" he said.

"I don't have a wand," she reminded him gently. "If I had a working wand, we'd never be in this mess."

Timmy sat gingerly beside her; he tried to find an area of the bed clear from blood. In the end, he opted to sit on her pillow, which was sprinkled with blood but not soaked. She had a bizarre thought about what would happen if human blood mingled with fairy blood, but couldn't follow it to its conclusion. It hurt too much to concentrate.

"Cosmo will definitely be back, won't he?" he asked, and he was pleading now.

She wasn't sure what he wanted her to tell him. He seemed desperate to believe Cosmo might rescue them, perhaps because Cosmo was their only hope. Poof was far away at Spellementary and Sparky had disappeared somewhere in the stratosphere. There was no one else.

If Cosmo had retrieved Jorgen, could Jorgen have got help? Would he have?

And what was the point of letting her godchildren visit her? So they could all see how wretched they were together? She sighed, closing her eyes again. Timmy was stroking her hair and she leaned into his touch. It was the only conciliatory touch she'd had in the last few hours. Chloe had held her, true, but it wasn't quite the same. Plus, she'd known Timmy longer.

"Somebody will be here," Timmy said insistently. She didn't know how he could manage to sit still. The pain had to be excruciating, unless that was dried blood and Lorenzo was healing him before he took him. Wanda shuddered, reaching for her godson.

She let the pain carry her away for a while. Timmy was still talking, but it sounded like nonsense. The second presence in her mind, Cosmo, was absent, as it had been since they'd been captured. It was odd, to feel like herself yet have a massive block in her mind. For so many years, she'd been herself with Cosmo, two entities entwined.

She was still crying, she realized, and could taste the tears. She didn't remember crying like this in front of Timmy before. Wrenching her eyes open, she stared at her godson, who looked alarmed. His eyebrows were raised and his hands trembled.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted. "I didn't mean for us to get captured!"

"It wasn't your fault, sport," she replied and heard the weariness in her voice. "Don't blame yourself."

"I wish Crocker had caught us instead," he said bitterly.

Wanda laughed humorlessly. "I wish that too."

Someone knocked at the door and Wanda flinched. Timmy jumped to his feet. Lorenzo entered, grinning maliciously. Timmy recoiled, scrambling over Wanda in his desperation to escape Lorenzo. Lorenzo chuckled at Timmy's distress and then gazed at Wanda. His gaze raked her and although she knew she was naked and bleeding, she felt violated in more ways than one with his eyes upon her. She fought to cover herself, knowing that he was seeing something more than just her battered body.

"Azalea promised me a treat, but I didn't think I'd see this," Lorenzo purred. "Why don't you describe your pain, frach? Get detailed. I want to hear your exquisite torture."

Wanda spat in Lorenzo's direction. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"While you aren't my type, not in that arena, I have to admit that I love your being coated in your own blood. It's been quite a while since I've seen a version of you so battered. I should take a picture."

"Leave her alone," Timmy protested. His voice was weak, as if afraid to draw attention to himself by protecting her but unable to stop.

"Oh, Timmy, I'm not done with you yet," Lorenzo crooned, his eyes alight with malice. "Your time will come."

"What is your problem?" Timmy demanded. "Why do you have to hurt everyone?"

"Not everyone," he refuted. "I hurt you because you belong to me. All iterations of you belong to me. Wanda deserves the pain. All versions of her do. As for Chloe, well, she seems to be Azalea's pet. How could I deny my partner in crime her just desserts?"

"You're sick," he spat. "Get a life."

"I'd rather appropriate yours," he sneered. He casually backhanded Timmy and approached Wanda. Again, his gaze swept her and again, she felt desecrated. She wished so hard that it was painful that she had her wand. Lorenzo and Azalea wouldn't be so blasé if she'd had a way to fight back. As for her mystery visitor…she didn't even want to think about that.

"How did you even find us?" he said, as if by keeping Lorenzo talking, he might prevent further action. As far as stalling was concerned, Wanda thought it might work. She just wished she were in less pain to better appreciate it.

"Timmy, Timmy," he said and shook his head. "Timmy. We are bound, you and me. In another universe, you created me. Ever since then, you forged a link to me that I have followed throughout the worlds. I can always follow you and, with you, Cosmo and Wanda."

His brow furrowed. "Speaking of the idiot, where is he? Did he somehow evade our notice? No matter. No one here has an interest in the buffoon."

He sneered at Wanda. "But it must be terribly crushing to know that your husband will abandon you when you need him. How's that rock-hard marriage working out for you, frach? Would you still say Cosmo loves you after this?"

Wanda wouldn't rise to his bait. She clenched a fist at her side and wrenched her gaze away from him. It didn't matter that he was repeating her insecurities. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing his words hit the mark.

"Come now, Wanda, don't be shy," he chided. "Tell me how much faith you have in the moron now. He emotionally abused you and then left you out to dry. Maybe you should have stuck with Juandissimo after all. He would never have let you get captured and then treated like a cock sleeve."

"Stop it!" Timmy cried, more disturbed by the jeering than she was. "Leave her alone!"

Lorenzo shook his head and ignored her godson. "Or is that all you're good for? Magic and being a good hole?"

Wanda pushed herself into an upright position. It hurt like the dickens and she wanted to thrash Lorenzo, especially for the gleeful look in his eyes.

"So much blood," Lorenzo crooned. "You must be in agony, little faerie."

He leaned forward and Wanda spat in his face. It was all she could do and he backhanded her too. It reignited the pain coursing through her body and she shuddered, fighting a whimper. Lorenzo sneered.

"Come along, Timmy. We're not done with our playdate yet," Lorenzo said.

"Wanda?" Timmy said and shook her shoulder. "Wanda!"

"I'm okay, sport," she lied and it was feeble. She'd never been good at lying and Timmy and Lorenzo knew it. She buried her face in the pillow and suppressed a groan. She wanted to dissolve into sobs again, but didn't dare let herself. Lorenzo would get off on that.

"Is that what you'll tell yourself when the Don returns? That you're fine?"

If her "visitor" was a Mafia Don and her father found out who…he'd tear him to pieces. And it wouldn't be quick, either. Her father would make him suffer for a very long time. The thought pleased her inordinately.

"There won't be enough left of you for your father to retrieve," he sneered. He yanked Timmy off the bed and held up a wand. Wanda rallied her spirits, her remaining strength, and dove for it. She tugged it out of his surprised hand and healed herself, restoring her clothes too.

"Clever," Lorenzo said, but she noticed he was no longer looking so smug. "Do you really think you'll succeed? You'll never escape."

Wanda's eyes narrowed and determination swept through her. She held up the wand again and secreted herself, Timmy, and Chloe away into the basement. It was dark down here and cold and she didn't care. Wielding the wand again, she healed her godchildren and huddled close to them.

"Was Lorenzo right?" Timmy asked. "Are we trapped?"

"We have magic now," she said. "We can fight back."

Chloe latched onto her and whimpered, sounding like she wanted to burst into tears. She stroked her goddaughter's hair. "Sssh, let it out, Chloe."

"I was so worried about you two!" she burst out.

"I was worried about me too," Timmy responded and though she knew he couldn't see it, she glowered at him.

"What? I was!"

"Lorenzo and Azalea, not to mention 'the Don'," she said, sneering at the last, "aren't going to let us go without a fight. We'll have to outwit and outfight them."

"But isn't it two wands to one?" Timmy pointed out.

"I'll kill them before I let them touch you two again," she vowed and Chloe cringed, freezing in her arms.

"You wouldn't really kill someone, would you?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"I don't know what I'm capable of right now," she answered honestly. Lorenzo and Azalea brought out her worst tendencies and she longed to tear them to pieces. No one should be able to abuse her godchildren especially given how much pleasure they took out of it. She had failed them and Cosmo had failed her.

"They don't deserve death!" Chloe argued.

"Speak for yourself," Timmy grumbled.

"Wanda, you can't be serious," she pleaded.

"Honey, I love you, I love both of you. But I'm not in a good state of mind right now."

"We'll get out of here and we won't have to hurt anyone," Chloe vowed.

"I'll get you two out," she promised. Beyond that, however, she made no further promises. She would have her revenge. And if someone ended up perishing, then she could hardly be held accountable for her actions. Temporary insanity. Jorgen would understand, wouldn't he?

She could always lie and say it was self-defense, but she was a terrible liar.

"You're not really going to kill anyone, are you?" Timmy asked in a tiny voice. She glanced toward his voice.

"I won't if you don't want me to," she said, though it felt like a huge concession on her part. Then again, it'd be better if she weren't wanted for murder after this.

"There was a lot more blood with you than with us…" Timmy remarked cautiously.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, hoping that would render the subject closed.

"But—" Chloe started and Wanda growled.

"Little faerie and godchildren, where are you?" Azalea crooned and Wanda shuddered. Next to her, Chloe flinched and clung to her godmother. Wanda erected an invisible barrier that muffled all sound near them and rendered them indistinguishable from their surroundings. If she could pilfer Azalea's wand, then she'd have a fighting chance. True, she couldn't use two wands simultaneously, but if she could disarm another opponent, that'd leave her only one left.

"You can't hide from us forever, you know."

She'd have to ambush her. It was the only way she'd get the upper hand. Wanda waited until Azalea's back was turned, omitted herself from the magical barrier, and hit Azalea with a magical attack aimed at her eyes. It was the magical equivalent of shoving someone's eyes inside their head and Azalea screamed, shooting a spell in any random direction. It missed Wanda by a wide margin.

Taking advantage of Azalea's blindness, she followed it up with a shot to her stomach and then clobbered her at the back of the head. It was her fault for using her wand as a flashlight. If she hadn't lit it up as a beacon, Wanda would never have seen her. Stupid, arrogant faerie.

Azalea choked, falling onto her knees, and Wanda used her wand to ensnare the older woman's. It flew through the air and she caught it. It was a shame she couldn't entrust it to her godchildren, although Chloe might be mature enough to handle it. However, she'd seen the end results of godchildren using magic on their own. They'd seldom been pretty.

Something exploded in her ears, the equivalent of a sonic boom. Startled, she looked around. Azalea remained on her knees, though her hands now covered her ears. Wanda waved the wand to dismiss the hearing impairment from herself and her family and watched as Azalea bled sparkling blood onto her hands. That must've been a weapon of some sort.

Jorgen? Did that mean Cosmo had gotten help?

Her heart soared and she admonished herself. She shouldn't get her hopes up. After all, Cosmo had a tendency to run off when things got tough. And maybe Lorenzo was right. Maybe Cosmo didn't love her enough to save her.

But even if he didn't, shouldn't he feel some obligation toward Timmy and Chloe? If not for her, then at least for them he should come. It wrenched her heart to say that, but at least they were young and innocent. They deserved the rescue. She would soldier on alone if she had to.

With another wave, she incapacitated Azalea but stopped short of serious injury, regardless of how much she had wanted to.

The sonic boom sounded again, but this time Wanda was prepared and equipped them with earplugs. The house shook and her teeth chattered. Chloe and Timmy seemed all right, albeit stunned and pale.

"What the heck was that?" Timmy demanded.

"I don't know, sport," she said. "But I hope it's the cavalry."