Chloe was sore in places that normally didn't bother her. Ever. However, this time, it didn't bear thinking about. She wanted to stretch, but had no desire to be sore elsewhere too. Grimacing, she cast about for her clothes. Azalea had left her, though Chloe was not naïve enough to believe she'd done so with good intentions. In between Azalea's "bouts", she'd heard Timmy screaming. It had wrenched her heart and made her squirm against Azalea in desperation to free her god-brother from Lorenzo's clutches, to no avail. If anything, Chloe's struggles had turned the faerie woman on more.
If Chloe had been in different circumstances, she might have queried the woman about she was a full-size faerie, about as tall as Jorgen, rather than the same height as Cosmo and Wanda. Now, however, Chloe was not remotely curious. She just wanted her vagina to stop paining. Azalea had broken her hymen and while Chloe knew it would grow back, seeing the blood on the sheets had not been reassuring. Then again, to be fair, nothing about this encounter had been reassuring.
Wincing, she decided against putting on underwear, as she thought she might bleed through it. Walking bowlegged, she made her way out of the darkened bedroom and paused, staring into the bright hallway. Someone had left a door ajar at the end. Chloe frowned, debating whether she ought to investigate. It could be another trap—Azalea had hardly left her there out of the goodness of her heart. Her shriveled, evil heart. Chloe seldom loathed anyone…but her seething hatred for Azalea burned her. She couldn't think of a positive side to this, save that Timmy and Wanda were here too somewhere. And that wasn't a positive spin, not really.
Putting one foot in front of the other, she crab-walked toward the door. Within, she heard pained breathing. She assumed a defensive position and then hissed as it aggravated her injuries. Biting her lip to prevent from crying out, she scuttled until she reached the open door. The light was on and she poked her head around the corner.
At first, she didn't know what she was seeing. Her mind refused to make sense of the image. Sparkling blood covered white sheets and swirly pink hair was bent toward black pants. She saw red, pink, black, and yellow. Then it resolved into an image and she gasped. Though she'd never seen faerie blood before, it didn't take much imagining to realize what this was.
"Wanda?" she asked and her voice quivered. Then, ignoring her soreness, she rushed toward her godmother. "Wanda!"
Wanda lifted her head and groaned. Her pink eyes struggled to focus and she blinked rapidly. Then she recoiled, flinching back against the wall.
"Chloe…" she breathed and shook her head. The motion must've pained her, because she rubbed her temples. "You shouldn't be here, sweetie."
"Neither should you," she said. "I'm busting you out. I'm getting Timmy and we're leaving."
Wanda's smile was humorless. "I doubt it'll be that easy, hun. But I'm open to suggestions."
"Where's your wand?" she asked and searched the room. Aside from the four-poster bed upon which Wanda lay, the room was empty. There wasn't even a nightstand. Chloe ducked under the bed to check for her wand and then yelped. Wanda stroked her hair.
"Ssh…don't do that," she cautioned and then growled. "When I get my hands on Azalea and Lorenzo…"
"What about you?" Chloe asked, seeing nothing, not even a speck of dust. It took her significant effort to straighten up and once she had, pain flared to life again in her midsection and groin. She fought tears and offered Wanda a watery smile.
"Never mind about me. I'm worried about you and Timmy."
With a groan, Chloe collapsed onto the bed beside her godmother. Her head spun and she rolled to avoid a bloody patch. It was still wet. How long ago had Wanda's tormentor left? Or did faerie blood take longer to dry than human blood? She couldn't take her eyes off the stained white spread.
"What did they do to you?" Chloe asked. If she focused on someone else's pain, hers became easier to bear. Besides, she cared more for others than herself. It was easy to lose herself in selflessness. She lifted her head to regard her.
"Why is there all of this…blood? And where's your wand?"
"Lorenzo has my wand."
She didn't answer the first question. Chloe scanned her appearance to determine whether there was anything that might give her the faintest hint of what had transpired. Whomever had hurt her must have healed her, but not cleaned the bed. To torment her? To remind her of his or her power? Chloe gritted her teeth.
"Where's Timmy?"
"Somewhere nearby," Wanda groaned. "I heard him. I heard both of you."
The color drained from Chloe's cheeks. Her lower lip quivered and she bit it, determined not to cry. Had that been part of Wanda's torture? Hearing her godchildren scream and being unable to stop it? Where was Cosmo in all of this?
"What about Cosmo?"
Wanda turned her head. "I don't know."
"Maybe he's coming to rescue us?" she suggested. Wanda didn't respond. Clearly, she thought the idea unlikely. Chloe struggled, striving to come up with something that might cheer them both. Stalwart, she straightened back into a standing position and ground her teeth.
"C'mon, I'm breaking you out," she said. "We're getting Timmy and we're getting the heck out of here."
Scooping Wanda up, she headed toward the door. It was difficult to walk encumbered by Wanda and with her groin as it was. She had never realized how such a small area could produce so much pain. It was unbelievable. And if she was miserable, then so were Timmy and Wanda.
"Wanda?" she whispered. "Did they hurt you like they did me and Timmy?"
Again, her godmother refused to answer. With a herculean effort, she staggered out into the hall. It wasn't that Wanda weighed a lot—like all faeries she was weightless. She was bulky, though she'd never repeat that to her. Wanda was about her height, so it was almost like carrying a weightless version of herself through the hall.
She glanced around to determine whether there were other doors she might access. Aside from the one she had exited and the one in which Azalea had trapped her, the other doors were shut. She walked to the one at the far right end and tugged on the doorknob. It was locked. Huffing, she kicked it. The door didn't budge.
Desperate, she tried the other two doors and discovered they were locked too. She rested her forehead against the wall and moaned. Okay, Chloe Carmichael, so the odds appeared stacked against you. That doesn't mean anything. She could totally beat the odds. She was, after all, Chloe Carmichael.
And she was tired, sore, hungry, and morose. She could either return to the room in which Wanda had been tortured, the one in which she had been, or sit in the hall. She was afraid, however, to sit down and put pressure on her privates.
Timmy had to be in one of the three rooms. She knocked on each in turn and didn't receive a response. Pressing her ear to the doors, she heard soft sobbing emanating from one.
"Timmy?" she called.
If he heard her, he gave no response. Sagging, Chloe deposited Wanda gently on the floor and then collapsed to her knees. She had to come up with something. They were depending on her. Perhaps she could deceive their captors and trick them into letting them go.
Or they could wait on Cosmo. Wanda's skepticism about Cosmo's current activities did not lend itself to confidence. Still, maybe there was a chance Cosmo could be en route to rescue them. And if that failed…she'd have to rescue them herself.
The council was in an uproar. Lorenzo shouldn't have been permitted to cross into this reality and Azalea had somehow escaped Abracatraz. Obviously, the two were related. The third accomplice had to have assisted them somehow, if only they could figure out who it was. Cosmo didn't care about any of this. His body burned as though he'd been the one violated, not Wanda, and at the best of times, his attention would have drifted. Right now, there was a snowball's chance in hell that he'd pay the slightest attention to this.
What was the debate about, anyway? There shouldn't even be a debate. They should just get their asses in gear and rescue Wanda, Timmy, and Chloe. Didn't they understand at all? The Bond was making mincemeat of Cosmo's thoughts and overrode any self-control he had left. Jorgen had to hold him back to prevent him from interrupting and, when that failed, gagged and bound him. Cosmo screamed, thrashing against the bonds. Wanda, Wanda, Wanda. All he could feel was her and all he could see in his mind's eye was her. Goddamn it. He howled in misery and when he poofed out of the ropes a minute later, Jorgen replaced them with iron chains. Then titanium.
Every second that his wife and godchildren were there was another second they were in agony. Cosmo fought against his restraints and they held firm. He gave Jorgen an appealing glance, as there was little else he could do. His cries were muffled and inaudible in the chamber. And he couldn't poof anywhere while Jorgen held his wand. The last few times must've been a fluke.
Unfortunately, Jorgen was the Fairy Council's enforcer. He wasn't a member of the Council. After ten minutes had passed by, an eternity by Cosmo's calculations, Jorgen vanished from his side and Cosmo growled, rolling over in midair and trying to undo his gag with his teeth. It just shoved the cotton further into his mouth.
Jorgen reappeared beside the Council and was pulling them aside into an in-depth conversation. Thunder boomed outside and rain lashed the windows. It seldom rained in Fairy World and, with a sigh, Jorgen brought Cosmo to their conference. Wanda might've been able to tell him that, as one of the most powerful faeries in existence, Cosmo had the ability to summon storms without his wand. Wanda wasn't here. Cosmo didn't understand the weather well enough to figure out what had happened.
Even present, their words washed over him. Jorgen was insistent now, punctuating his words by slamming his wand down. Every time he did so, the thunder echoed louder. Cosmo huffed, stymied, and Jorgen eyed him. He could tell he was weighing whether he ought to let him speak or not. In the end, however, he decided against it.
"Timmy Turner is not the most important godchild on Earth," one of the council members argued now. "Nor is his god-sister, Chloe Carmichael."
"The effects of a violated Bond can be catastrophic," Jorgen retorted. "And do you really want Azalea and Lorenzo, when they tire of Timmy and Chloe, to start hunting for more fairy godchildren?"
The council looked uneasy and exchanged glances from beneath their hoods. At least, Cosmo thought that was what they were doing. He couldn't tell.
"We can't just barge in there," another council member argued. "They've barricaded the house. We might activate a trap."
No shit. Cosmo thrashed again and the storm increased in intensity. Let him out, let him out, let him out…Wanda…Timmy and Chloe…
Finally, a member took notice of the storm raging outside and glanced back at Jorgen's captive. He sighed, waving his wand and restoring the weather to its previous sunniness. The cheer grated on Cosmo's nerves and urgency mounted. He couldn't feel what was going on with Wanda, only vague sensations, and he knew that whomever had visited her before had reappeared. Tears burned the corners of his eyes.
"We'll do a preliminary survey and see what is needed and then we'll rescue them," the council leader decided. "We'll give you our assessment in a day or two."
"That might be too late!" Jorgen objected and though Cosmo's reply was muffled, it followed the same lines. Tears streaked his cheeks and that terrible emotion echoed through him again. The Bond was reacting badly, making bile rise in his throat. He wanted to vomit, but there was nowhere for it to go. It lined the inside of his mouth instead.
"That is our final decision," the council decreed in unison and, without another word, thrust Jorgen and Cosmo back to Jorgen's office. Once there, Jorgen eradicated Cosmo's chains and gag. Cosmo fell to the floor and threw up until he was shaking, dry heaving. Jorgen rubbed his back, which was meant to be sympathetic but ended up shoving him face first into his own puddle of sick. Realizing this, Jorgen remedied it, cleaning things up and then turning Cosmo around to face him.
"We will go around the Council," Jorgen announced quietly. "They do not understand the urgency of the matter."
"We're going now?" he replied. That was all he cared about. Well, that and getting that awful taste out of his mouth. He poofed up a breath mint.
"Yes. The longer we wait, the worse it will get."
The lights were off again and Wanda was unaware of who it was, just that they had her magically pinned to the bed and spread eagled. Azalea and Lorenzo had wasted no time in separating her from Chloe and this mysterious faerie had swooped right in to take advantage of her again. Just when she thought she couldn't endure more, she was being forced to. She could barely catch her breath—it felt like the faerie was supernaturally fast and strong. She wanted to curl into a ball around her pain, but it was impossible.
And yet all her thoughts, beyond the ones pain fueled, went to Timmy and Chloe. She could suffer, so long as her babies didn't. And it seemed they were, regardless. Wanda screamed, wishing she could pummel the male on top of her, steal her wand back, and get them out of here. She was so helpless without her wand. Just as helpless as Timmy and Chloe right now.
When he finished, he left her a bleeding mess on the bed without even the dignity of putting her clothes back on. Wanda shuddered, wishing to crawl into a fetal position, but afraid of adding strain to her groin by doing so. The bed beneath her was slick with blood and even with the lights off, it sparkled. Fairy blood was magical, but she couldn't access its magic. She'd need to be human for that. Harsh laughter burned her throat. All she needed to do was get Timmy or Chloe here and wish themselves free. Look at all that magic wasted.
Her fingers brushed a star tipped object on the bed and her heart leapt before realizing by its heft and composition that it was a training wand. It'd be enough to heal her or restore her clothes. Not both. This was their idea of a joke. "Think every day wish, not Sunday best wish!"
Cosmo's words echoed in her mind and she again wondered where her husband had gone. He couldn't have forsaken them, right? She'd feared to answer Chloe before and see where that conversation led. The Bond must be torturing him too, same as her. Any time she did anything romantic with someone outside of the Bond, it would nauseate her, in addition to whatever else was going on. Wanda had never cheated on Cosmo, of course, but the Bond saw what was happening now as that and was perpetuating the nausea as well as her bodily aches.
Cosmo couldn't hide from that, could he? Would he? He'd fought for her when Crocker had seized control of the world, but what did that mean, really? He'd changed so much since Timmy had first gotten them. She whimpered, deciding to use the wand to heal herself. There had to be something in here she could drape about herself.
The relief from healing herself was immense. Though the Bond still screamed bloody murder in her mind, she could move without agony. It was only in her memories that the faerie had thrust repeatedly into her, though she could still feel it. Shaking her head and swallowing hard, she waved the wand for some light and started pulling out the dresser drawers nearest her.
They were all empty. The only thing Wanda could use to conceal her nudity was the sodden bedsheet. So be it. She ripped it, taking solace in the fact that the whole thing wasn't ruined, though she winced when the cooling blood touched her bare skin.
((Wanda?))
Cosmo's voice in her head jolted her and she looked about as though her husband might be standing before her. He wasn't, though try telling her racing heart that.
((Cosmo?)) she called back, tentative. ((Cosmo, where are you?))
He could hear the desperation in her mental voice. She couldn't help it. Bonds conveyed emotions and right now, she was powerless to withhold anything from him. She trembled, clutching the sheet tighter.
((Wanda? Wanda?))
He couldn't hear her. She could hear him, but they'd blocked her out. Frustrated tears filled her eyes and she bit back a sob. No, no, no, this wasn't fair. Were they intent on torturing her every way possible? From down the hall, Timmy's sobs echoed and she could hear Chloe desperately trying to distract Azalea.
((Cosmo!)) she cried back, knowing it was hopeless. This time, a sob broke out and she pushed her way toward the door. This time, it was locked. She poked at it with her training wand and it opened.
Of course, once out in the hallway, the cries were louder and impossible to escape. Could she unlock the doors here and rescue her godchildren? It seemed unlikely. She sought to recall all she knew about training wands. They had severe limitations, but could be used to poof from place to place. However, if this place wasn't on Earth, but in Fairy World, she'd only be able to move about Fairy World and not return to Earth. She wasn't in sync with Cosmo. It'd be almost impossible to transport Timmy back down, never mind all three of them.
((Wanda, we're coming to get you!))
The sense of Cosmo's mind within hers withdrew and she shuddered, half-wondering if it'd even been him at all or another cruel joke. With an effort, she shuffled down the hall toward Timmy's room and willed the door to unlock. Maybe she'd be lucky and it would.
