Author's Note: I never intended to focus on Cosmo. I swear it happened out of nowhere.

On time for once, owing to my having less work this week. XD

Please be sure to read and review. Much thanks.

Chapter Twelve: Destruction in Small Doses

Remy stared sullenly at the blank wall in front of him. Doombringer had set a single objective before him, one that was impossible without magic or another human being, materials, and planning. In his current state, he couldn't bribe the wall, wish it away, or hire a crew to knock it down. Doombringer wanted him to will it down, to use the magic she claimed swirled in his veins to either knock a hole in it, create a tunnel, or develop an escape vent. She asked the impossible. A human couldn't perform magic. He needed Juandissimo and he'd told her, except she wouldn't hear it.

The wall before him was white, at least ten feet high, and had no holes in it. It remained obstinately whole, as if mocking him. Remy glared at it. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could blame Turner for this. He hated Turner. He'd love to punch him in the face and use him to create the tunnel. Unfortunately, while the hatred was satisfying, it wasn't helping him escape.

If he had fairy magic bubbling through his veins, it'd be purple, like Juandissimo. Thinking about his fairy made his heart ache and he gritted his teeth. He never felt like Juandissimo was a father in any respect, which only made matters worse. Juandissimo would blast the wall and they'd be on their merry way. Except, he hadn't seen Juan since they'd captured him and he had no wand at his disposal. Everyone knew fairies needed wands to do magic. Why hadn't she left him one?

The wall was white. He was starting to hate white more than Turner. It was white, it was whole, and nothing was happening to it. What could she expect from him? He hadn't been around Juandissimo like Timmy had been around Cosmo and Wanda. Whatever minimal supernatural influence Juandissimo had given him, assuming it was real, wasn't going to do anything.

And assuming he did manage to escape this room? There would only be another one beyond it with another test. Hunger gnawed at him and it was an unfamiliar feeling, a burning in the back of the throat and his stomach turning over unhappily. He'd never been hungry before. He'd never been this miserable before, either. Hugging himself, he glared at the wall. When he escaped here, he'd hire someone to knock down every single wall in this place.

Narrowing his eyes, he pictured himself with heat vision. He'd sear through the wall and watch it smolder, slowly working down the way until he created a large enough hole. Unfortunately, with heat vision, he'd have to work on it layer by layer. He snorted, imagining turning the heat vision on Doombringer and watching her scream. His lips twisted…and then he frowned. But hurting her wouldn't bring back Juandissimo and Juandissimo was the only thing in his life he actually cared about.

Shutting his eyes, he imagined Juandissimo safe and secure behind the hole he hadn't yet created. The ache joined his hunger pains and he opened his eyes. He felt too miserable to picture anything and he rubbed his fingers together. Little purple sparks shot off the fingertips and he jumped. He hadn't been around Juandissimo; there was no reason for him to have fairy dust on him. Was this what Doombringer was talking about?

She could have given him a hint about how he was supposed to summon the magic he didn't have. He pictured punching the wall again, this time with inflated fists, and a crater appeared at his level. Startled, he stared at it and his bones hurt, like he was applying an iron to them to flatten them. The cause and effect were so fast, he gawked. The crater remained, as did the physical sensation.

It wasn't a particularly large crater- it had indented perhaps four inches. Remy didn't know what to make of it. He hadn't known he could do it in the first place and now that he had, how was he supposed to deepen it? Especially if doing it had hurt him.

He wasn't used to thinking about things. He had people who did it for him or, in lieu of that, he did what was easiest. Already thinking this long had hurt his brain. There promised to be more in store, too. Gritting his teeth, he scrutinized his surroundings.

He was hungry. He wouldn't eat until he created the tunnel. It was time to hurt his brain some more.

Cosmo slithered on his belly toward the back. Something hinted it'd be easier to succumb to the dark magic and allow it to seize him, control him, and then he'd reach his wand. Cosmo, who normally caved to any sort of pressure, wasn't tempted. Dark magic terrified any light, decent fairy, and he already knew he didn't want to see what prolonged exposure did. Ignoring the nudges and the wordless insinuations, he edged forward and stared at the wands at the end of the hall. They were so far. He had almost no strength left.

Maybe if he changed one more time…

No, Cosmo.

His lips twitched. How could his mental Wanda tell him no, when she wasn't here? He was doing this for her and Timmy. Surely, she'd understand?

And so would the black magic swirling around him. He shuddered and pressed onward. His stomach felt raw and scraped and he wished the portraits in the halls were sentient and capable of carrying him. So little was possible without his wand and he dragged himself forward, wishing for it with every fiber of his being. Why had they designed the castle corridors so damn long?

He looked up and he was almost halfway there. His muscles cried out and the darkness pressed in upon him. It promised he'd only have to give in this once, and it'd let him have the wands. And then it'd leave him alone. There was absolutely nothing suspicious about the offering. Of course, it said this without words, only presenting it with feelings and implications. Cosmo quivered and gulped, inching forward and brushing against an intangible cloud he saw with his mind's eye. One little sacrifice. All he had to do was let it in once more and he could have his wands, and it'd leave him alone.

Cosmo inhaled shakily and the darkness weighed upon his chest, pressing invisible daggers into his heart and lungs. Breathing prompted a faint whimper and the darkness acknowledged it. But it would go away if he acknowledged it and let it help him. Cosmo stared at the wands and then 'saw' the grey cloud. Wanda would tell him this was a bad idea. Wanda wasn't here. He had no one else to depend on. He had no other way of gaining more energy without draining it from Timmy's parents, which was not only against Da Rules, it'd land him in Abracatraz. Plus, he didn't even know how to drain people and turn their energy into magic.

Thinking hurt his brain and the darkness knew this. He bit his lower lip.

"Just this once?" he called and it indicated assent.

Cosmo trembled. This was a bad idea and though he wasn't the brightest bulb in a box of 10-watt bulbs, he knew it. But what choice did he have? On his current energy level, he'd never make it to the wands. He could feel his strength leaving him and his elbows, which had been supporting him so he could slither forward, gave out underneath him. How else was he supposed to push himself forward? By his chin?

((This once.))

It was speaking to him via telepathy. Cosmo stiffened. Anything that could speak inside your mind aside from your soul mate was either evil…or…he didn't know. He lifted his head and an invisible something tilted it this way and that. It withdrew and he swore he saw a smile in his mind.

((You'll do.))

Strength returned and he rose to his feet. Without questioning why the being had accepted something for nothing, he dashed to the wands. Sure, the voice in his head had been a little creepy, but he didn't care right now. He pushed the emergency release button on the captive wands and they landed in his hands. One for him, and one for Wanda. They could get out of Doombringer's clutches and return to the way things were supposed to be. Timmy would make a bunch of dumb wishes and-

His reflection caught him up short. Before, his hair was green with black streaks. Now, it was forest green, black overlying the green, and his normal color was gone. His hair was also longer, brushing his shoulders, and the ends twitched. Whimpering, he looked at his eyes.

The irises weren't remotely green anymore. They were grey bordering on black, making the pupils hard to see, and they had slanted, like cat's eyes, or like the old elves and fairy used to be. Hand trembling, he reached up to touch his ears and brushed aside his hair.

His ears were pointed. The only time they were ever pointed was as a result of a wish; he and Wanda had normal, rounded ears. Only the anti fairies consistently had pointed ears; it was the tainted mark. Cosmo shuddered uncontrollably.

The nameless being within the castle registered its scorn, not with him, but with how easily he'd fallen into its trap. Cosmo's eyes bulged and he waved his wand to cure himself. Nothing happened. The wand didn't respond to him at all; it was as if he had no magic channels for it to use. But that wasn't possible. Even when he'd been a baby, he could use wands.

There were more wands in the bedroom. Maybe these two were busted. He ran into the bedroom and seized them.

The wands on the night table didn't respond either. Panic rose within him and he told himself this was perfectly normal, except he knew it wasn't. He knew something had gone horribly wrong and it was his fault. He hyperventilated. There wasn't a Wanda to fix things, there wasn't even a Timmy to stand by him and offer sarcastic advice.

The being smirked in his mind. ((Trapped, little fairy.))

Cosmo fled, running to the one place where he'd found solitude in the last six months. They had a curios room, where they stuffed objects they'd accumulated over the centuries. In it, he located the Mama Cosma bust, with its baleful glowing eyes. Whenever it saw him, it smiled and he relaxed, his worries temporarily forgotten and his mind clouding. That didn't worry him- he didn't like thinking, so anything offering to keep him from it was welcome.

This time, the bust did nothing. The being picked over his memories, rifling through them like files in a cabinet, and pulled out a few, of which he saw glimpses. The bust's magical aura surrounded it and he realized, belatedly, it matched the mental signature he saw from the being (if it could be rightfully called that and not a personification of the dark magic). The bust was, and always had been, evil.

Something laughed derisively at him.

He tried to remember and the being helped. Every time he'd run to the bust in the past, it'd made him feel better and then…

And then he'd felt more and more distant from Wanda. He'd said or done something to hurt her, and felt a grim satisfaction, as their Bond unraveled. But he'd never connected the two before, and the being had.

The being was definitely more intelligent. He could sense cunning, whatever it actually was, or whatever form it actually took. It might be a demon, come to think of it. He shuddered and stared at the bust. He should break it; maybe then he and Wanda would be back to normal.

((I don't think so, little fairy. This could come in very handy.))

"I don't want it to!" he snapped at the voice. He couldn't use telepathy anymore and he gazed sidelong at the bust. Maybe…

((Your desires are noted….but ultimately, unimportant.))

"What…but…" Cosmo sputtered, staring at the bust and thinking of his conversation last night. He shook the wands until he thought the tops would fall off and nothing happened. His chest constricted and he held the wands protectively in front of him, as if they would protect him. Tears sprang to his eyes and he thought he was probably the most scared he'd ever been. He didn't know what happened to fairies that were corrupted. There hadn't been one like that in thousands of years. The last time one had been corrupted, Jorgen had taken it away and…

The one thing that was supposed to help wasn't working. His heart pounded and he felt lightheaded.

"Go away! Go away!" he said.

((Did you really expect something for nothing?)) The something grinned.

Wanda, curled in a ball to avoid touching the wall and floor more than she had to, experienced a sharp, disconnected headache lancing from temple to temple. It seemed to penetrate through her skull and directly into her brain and she curled tighter, rubbing her temples. If the pain had a name, it'd be "Cosmo", but it didn't make sense, either way, and she wasn't feeling well enough to think about it. Instead, she longed for her wand and her lips quivered.

At nightfall, Doombringer would return for her.