Update 2007: Oh my god! I'm back! And I'm typing up chapter two! And I've finally stopped messing around with the summary and I've decided what's going to happen for definate, sorted out all the pairings and everything with Meltedfluff and what she wants to do, and I'm going to be posting again now! Sorry for the looooooong wait - and thanks for all the kind reviews!
Author: Anti-FairyLove (that's my old username) and MeltedFluff
A/N: Meltedfluff thought of the storyline and I typed it up. So really it's most of meltedfluff's work.
Pairings: AntiCosmo/Timmy, AntiCosmo/Wanda, Cosmo/Wanda, Holiday slashes (April Fool/Cupid, April Fool/Easter Bunny + mix of both lol etc)
Story Notes: When I first wrote this I didn't know what Mr and Mrs Turner's names were, so I had to call them Kerry and Stevon as they seemed to fit best of all. However I'm also thinking of Alice for Mrs Turner - so what do you think?
Warnings: Homosexuality, MEGA MEGA FLUFF, mild violence, swearing (poss)
FULL Summary (Updated): Timmy's whole life is starting to fall apart. His parents are getting a divorce, there's a social worker on their backs, and he's worrying about admitting that he's gay. His parents can offer him no reassurance however, being busy with work and other things, and Vicky is always there to babysit him and to make his life even more miserable than ever. And as if that's not enough, Cosmo and Wanda are expecting their first baby and will have less time for him!
And then something happens...
After the entire of Fairy World is put into terror from a dark spirit that's on the move, Anti-Cosmo has to stay with them for a while for safety and Timmy's mistrust of him soon turns to pity as he realises that he's having a rough time of it too. He's just lost his wife and the baby that they were expecting, and is still in shock at the moment. If the others can't lift his spirit a little, he might start to fade away, and Wanda's motherly side shows a great deal when he needs nursing back to full health...
.-.-."Excuse me, Mrs Turner?"
The young woman was dressed smartly, with a dark blue skirt and jacket and she held a black cell phone in one hand. There was a strong look of business about her, and her eyes seemed to take in every inch of the Turner's home, from the log fireplace to the staircase and even down to the smallest detail in the pictures on the wall.
It was no surprise when she eyed Timmy rather distastefully, for she was a woman of great distaste in everything, and especially children. Loud, messy creatures, she called them, and when her husband had suggested starting a family, she had not heard of it. The word had been 'no' and that had been the end of it.
"You are Mrs Turner, aren't you?" she continued, readjusting the bag that hung from her shoulder, and walking into the living room without being offered permission. Her cell phone found it's way back into her bag again, and she strode over the middle of the room, her long slender legs strutting elegantly.
"Yes, yes I am," Kerry answered. Half answer, half question. Yes I am the wife of Stevon Turner; yes what is it that you want?
The woman had come a day early in fact, not that Timmy knew anything about her coming at all of course, and a rather flustered Mrs Turner was now trying to shoo him upstairs. She had been planning to tell him all about it when things had blown over, and she and her husband had had a chance to talk it through like adults. Only that time had never come.
Now the woman was here, and if Timmy didn't get upstairs soon, he would hear exactly what she didn't want him to hear. Firstly, it would upset him greatly. She knew that despite their frequent abscences he loved them to no end, and some major upheavel like this would only bring pain to their son. And secondly, she wanted to tell him in her own way. This woman seemed rather intimidating, and she didn't like the way that she was looking at Timmy.
'Elaine' as her name happened to be, narrowed her violet eyes, and continued to stare the child down. Filth. How could these people let a child wander freely about the house like that? She tutted and shook her head. Commoners.
"We have matters to discuss," she told Mrs Turner, her voice bitter and sly, as it always was, "as I'm sure that you are aware of."
"Yes, yes, hold on one second," she called, still trying to get her son to go upstairs.
"Mum, is everything alright?" Timmy asked, a little concerned. Just lately, everything seemed to be going wrong, and he was worried about what the circumstances might be at the moment. Loud arguments and fighting, broken dishes, nights when his father had staggered in drunk and his mother had been crying.
There had even been a social worker round because one of the neighbours had sworn blind that he had been in some sort of trouble because of the violence between his parents. One night, the cops had been called out because they had been causing a disturbance, and Timmy had almost been taken away there and then for his own safety, and that had been what had triggered the first social worker to call.
"Yes, everything's fine sweety," she lied. "It's just something work related, alright? Go upstairs and have fun on your, err.. computer."
She waited until he had disappeared upstairs, and had gone into his room, before turning back to the other woman and going to discuss their 'business'. For Timmy though, it was just another thing to worry about, and he couldn't get rid of the image in his head of the smartly dressed woman smirking unpleasantly at him, as though to say 'I know something, that you don't.'
He spent about five minutes slumped against his bedroom door, desperately listening for sound from downstairs. Any minute now, something would crop up. Any minute now, the shouting would begin. There would be something thrown, and then the shouting would get even louder. The police would be called and he would be taken away forever with a social worker. He would never see his parents again... Never...
God. He was imagining things. At every slight creak or movement, his eardrums would jump and his heart would race. His father wasn't even home yet, let alone arguing with his mother. A chair was being drawn back from the dining room, and his right ear twitched and thumped. Someone was coming. Someone was coming upstairs. There were footsteps on the landing now, and they were coming closer and closer.
His heart began to race even more, as the dreadful memories of the arguments filled up his mind. Screams of his parents and the sound of the smashing of a dish completely filled his brain. It was a hallucination, that's all it was... but a pretty strong one, and he remembered the night when they had both completely lost it and.. His heart raced even faster. He felt the broken bottle collide into him and..
Timmy dived onto the bed and hid underneath the duvet, tears falling down his cheeks. He just wanted everything to be the way it had been before... His parents coming home for weekends and spending the day with him. School being alright and having his parents come together to the parents evenings, instead of just one or the other, and being able to look forward to the holidays that he would have with them. But now, his main fear was just staying alive. Just staying alive when one of them, or both, got really drunk and violent...
He heard his bedroom door open, and fear completely surrounded him again. Where were Cosmo and Wanda? They weren't in their goldfish bowl, and he was all on his own...And then, the deadly words were spoken. Words that were just too upsetting and fatal and pretty 'final' for him to bear...
"Timmy, we're getting a divorce."