Sleep was no refuge, nor had she expected it to be. If she was fortunate, sleep was dreamless and murky. When she was less fortunate, sleep contained her waking life's nightmares. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Juandissimo since The Don had swept him from her arms. While she might not have normally bemoaned his disappearance, Juandissimo was the only hope she'd had in the interminable past. Days blended or perhaps elongated. She no longer knew how much time had passed, only that she was trapped in an unending hell.

Faeries were immortal, but that didn't mean they couldn't die. It just took a great deal more to kill a faerie than, say, a human. Forbidden refuge from disassociation, Wanda imagined either killing herself or her assailant in increasingly creative ways. She still couldn't believe her father hadn't located her yet. She clung to that stubbornly, knowing that he would never forsake her.

Sunlight pierced her room and she twisted weakly, startled to discover a window had materialized in her dark room. It appeared above her bed and illuminated her condition in stark colors. Sparkling blood caught the sun's rays, and someone growled. The sudden light, after so long in the dark, blinded her and she hissed, curling up to defend herself.

"I'm going to kill him."

Wanda's heart stuttered, and she blinked away the red spots. It took a good five minutes for her vision to settle. She wasn't permitted enough time for her vision to fully adjust, however. A bubble covered her right before the wall vanished behind her. Magic healed her, and clothes covered her frame.

"I'll kill him, bring him back, and then kill him again," the male voice growled. Wanda pinched herself and it hurt, which eliminated any thought that she was dreaming. Her dreams hadn't been that hopeful, regardless.

"Daddy?" she rasped. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Daddy? Is that really you?"

Big Daddy hugged her so tightly that she gasped and struggled. He released her far enough so she could breathe, but only that far. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and he smoothed them away.

"I'm gonna kill the motherfucker who did this to you," he vowed. "My baby girl."

Wanda shuddered, waiting for The Don to materialize and rip Big Daddy away from her like he had Juandissimo. Yet he didn't appear. Was he waiting for a cue? He couldn't let her go without a fight. Or…had he done this for a certain amount of time to send Big Daddy a lesson? Had she suffered long enough?

Big Daddy stroked her hair and raised his wand. Before they vanished, something hard and stone struck her in the back. Juandissimo's statue. She gasped, and they reappeared, Juandissimo back in the flesh, in Big Daddy's house. Once there, she collapsed in a heap onto the floor and burst into sobs. She hadn't meant to. She didn't want to show such weakness, particularly not in front of Juandissimo, but she couldn't stop herself.

Big Daddy was saying something, but she couldn't hear him over her crying. Vision blurry with tears, she sensed someone approach and she hissed, reaching for the wand she didn't have. Pink and brown blurred together, along with blonde and black, and she scurried backward.

"Wanda, it's us!"

She knew that voice. More importantly, she had failed the owner of that voice. Unable to breathe, she cried harder, knowing she needed to stop but incapable of it. Someone touched her, and she yelped, backing away. She sensed rather than saw Timmy exchange a glance with Chloe. At present, she had no way of seeing them.

"You don't know what happened to her while she was gone," Chloe whispered. "She could be traumatized."

"It's still us!" he huffed. "It's not like we're the ones who hurt her or kept her prisoner!"

Wanda's sobs abated, stunned by Timmy's callousness, though she didn't know why she was. She wasn't sure she was herself enough to pull it together. Her mind was a fractured thing, all jagged pieces and broken parts. Tentative, she reached out for Cosmo and, while it was easier to sense him, nothing she picked out made much sense.

Harsh laughter burned her throat. She didn't know why she was surprised by this either.

"Wow…did she go off the deep end?" Timmy asked.

"Don't speak to my daughter like that," Big Daddy snarled. "Capiche?"

Timmy must've nodded, and she wiped at her face. Gradually, her vision returned, and Big Daddy vanished in a cloud of faerie dust. The last she saw of him was him clutching a note and looking livid. She wished she had the strength to deal with that. Right now, it looked like handling her godchildren would require all of her power.

"What are you two doing here?" she said when she trusted herself to speak again.

"We've been both here and at Mama Cosma's, although she's completely gone off the deep end with Cosmo," Timmy said and then scowled. "Not that there was too far to go."

"Are you okay?" Chloe said in a rush. "I mean, of course you're not 'okay'…but…it was a stupid question."

"I've been better," she said. She smiled weakly at them and something about her expression must've been off, because both children flinched. She stopped.

"I don't suppose either of you has a spare wand lying around, do you?" she asked. While she was far from all right, having a wand on hand would at least minimize her feeling of powerlessness. When they shook their heads, she sighed. She should have known.

"Where's Juandissimo?"

"Your dad took the statue with him," Timmy explained. "You were gone for a month…a whole month with Cosmo in an insane asylum and Poof as our godparent."

"A month?" she exclaimed and then muttered, "It felt like a lot longer."

"What happened to you in that house, was that what you went through…?" Chloe hesitated, afraid she was crossing a barrier. Wanda nodded, throat tight, and the children winced. Wanda glanced away, unable to maintain eye contact for too long. She was worried that whatever her face revealed would be too much. It was hard to force herself back into a mask.

"Are you okay?" Timmy asked, and, unlike Chloe, he didn't rush to clarify or apologize. Something vulnerable shone behind his eyes and her heart broke for him.

She didn't know how to answer him. Yes, she'd known Timmy longer, but it felt too personal to tell him. It was like opening herself up and letting him see how she ticked. She turned away, unable to handle looking at her godchildren for too long. Her throat was tight, and she wished, more than anything, to have a wand. Even if she didn't intend to use magic, she needed the comfort it brought.

"Wanda?" he asked, moving so that he was in her line of sight. She sighed, shutting her eyes and curling into a ball.

She sensed her godchildren exchanging looks again and then they settled on either side of her. Fatigued, she didn't feel like answering him. The whole rescue, if that was what it was and not her mind tormenting her, had drained her. She didn't have the energy to be her normal self and wasn't sure she could find her way to it even if she wanted to. A very large part of her wanted to die, right here and now, and to hell with the consequences.

Someone tapped very gently into her mind, someone she hadn't felt for a month, and she stiffened.

((Wanda?)) Cosmo entreated, and she didn't know what to do. Her first inclination was to shove up a bulwark against him too and hide within herself. That, however, required strength she didn't possess. She let him ramble at her and didn't respond.

"Shit," Timmy said after five minutes had passed and she hadn't answered her godchildren or her husband. "This is worse than I thought."

"She needs therapy," Chloe decided. "Maybe rehabilitation."

She clenched her eyes shut tighter, as if not seeing the humans meant not hearing or sensing them either. Timmy pulled her into his arms and she cringed before relaxing minutely into the familiar embrace. He was stroking her hair, not to soothe her, but rather to calm himself. She was the faerie equivalent of a stuffed animal and insane laughter, which she didn't give voice to this time, burned her throat.

"You're safe," Timmy pressed. "No one's going to hurt you here."

No, even if they weren't, the damage was already done. She remembered the last encounter with The Don, where he'd transformed into a jagged vibrator and scraped her raw inside. He'd ejaculated acid into her and then took her again from behind to repeat the experience. The wand had healed her and restored her clothes, but not her dignity. That was long gone. She could still feel the razor vibrator within her and she bit back a scream.

And then the time before that, when he'd shifted into cement and pounded her so hard that her hips had shattered. She'd been in excruciating pain for half a day before he felt like healing her enough to take her again.

And the time before that, where he'd carved at her insides like a faerie scalpel and ejaculated what felt like the equivalent of rubbing alcohol inside her. The scream fought again to escape, and she shuddered, pushing past Timmy to vomit until she dry-heaved.

"She's trapped in her own mind," a voice she hadn't heard in centuries said and a very delicate touch rolled Wanda over, so she didn't choke on her vomit.

"Magdalene," another familiar voice said and this one she recognized instantly. Jorgen. What was he doing here? Why was everyone getting so invested in her life? A cold compress pressed against her forehead.

"She's been through an ordeal," Magdalene responded, heat in her tone. "You don't want to rush her into anything."

"I know, but—"

"No 'buts'!" Magdalene snarled and, distantly, Wanda admired her standing up to Jorgen, considering what Magdalene had been through. "You asked me here because I'm the only other faerie you know who was raped on a regular basis. I'm the closest thing you have to an expert, unless you wanted to call Doctor Rip Studwell and get his arrogant attitude? You don't get to call the shots on this one."

Wanda opened her eyes and saw the pink and brown-haired faerie floating there with her eyes blazing. She thought she'd been in exile. Who had attacked her? Who had dared attack a faerie in exile? A human? But…Wanda's stomach clenched, and she spat up bile.

Jorgen said nothing, and Magdalene waved Timmy and Chloe back.

"Hey," the other female faerie said. "I know you're hurting right now. If you don't want to talk or do anything, that's okay. I don't blame you. If all you can do is hold your broken pieces together, then that's okay too."

Something like gratitude surged through her.

"Thank you," Wanda rasped. Magdalene understood, even if Wanda didn't know how.

"I'll take it from here," Magdalene said and, before Jorgen could voice an objection, she brought Wanda to a comfortable sitting room with leather furniture. She laid Wanda out on the couch and felt Cosmo pushing at her mind. She didn't have the energy yet to confront him.

"Mags, what have you been—" a male voice complained, and a brown-haired man walked into the room. His hair was long and scraggly, barely kept in his braid. He was broad shouldered and muscular and stood about six feet tall. Not a faerie. Wanda straightened up on the couch in confusion.

"Nathaniel," Magdalene said, sounding exasperated. "I told you I had a situation. Go. You're going to make things worse."

Now she knew why that male voice sounded familiar. She bolted upright.

"Nathaniel Bernhardt? You were Magdalene's godchild, the one she went into exile over because she was having inappropriate relations with you…" Wanda blurted.

"That'd be me, yeah," Nathaniel said. "They were consensual, mind you, but try explaining that to the Fairy Council. Bunch of hidebound assholes."

"'Thaniel, please," Magdalene pleaded. "Go. I'll talk to you later."

"You're so mean to me," Nathaniel protested, mock whining. "You see what I have to deal with, Wanda? She's my true love and she just discards me like yesterday's newspaper."

"Don't be silly," Magdalene countered. "No one reads anymore."

Wanda straightened up further on the couch and watched Nathaniel leave the room in the conventional way rather than poofing in and out.

"He's a faerie now, but he always forgets and walks around like a human," Magdalene explained. She sat beside Wanda.

"I assume you don't want to talk to Cosmo, Chloe, or Timmy. Am I right?" she inquired, and Wanda nodded.

"Jorgen thought it might be best for you to recuperate for a while before we decided what to do," she said. She twisted her locks on her finger.

Without looking at her, Magdalene said, "In case you were wondering who it was for me, it was my ex-husband. A human lover I took on Earth to conceal my illegitimate son from Fairy World. He raped me on a weekly basis. I know it's not what you went through, but it's the closest that Jorgen knows about.

"Now," she said and forced a smile. "I'm going to leave you alone for a little while."

"No," Wanda croaked. "I don't want to be left alone."

Then she'd be wondering when The Don would return and take her again.

"And am I right in assuming you don't want to talk?"

Wanda nodded.

"You're going to have to talk about it sometime," she reminded her. "But for now, all right. We'll let it lie. Jorgen and Big Daddy are going to have fun running damage control."

"What about my godchildren?" she blurted. "Are they okay?"

"They're fine," she reassured her. "But I know they'll ask questions you don't want to answer."

She nodded again, grateful to Magdalene for her understanding. Magdalene offered her a weak smile.

"Sitting together in silence," Magdalene said. "I think I can handle that. What about you?"

Wanda couldn't muster a smile in return. She felt empty inside, a cracked shell with all of its yoke dripping out. I am broken, so very, very broken.