I hated every single outline I wrote for this chapter, so I wrote this off the dome in one day. Let's see how it pans.

Warm candlelit wall scones, stained windows aglow with the sheen of crescent moon among the ombre sky of bright reds and dark blues, and a grand chandelier of turquoise, blue, purple, and pink crystals glistened colors of natural light into the marble tile floors and white stone walls of the common room. All the godchildren, clustered in groups of four each, faced each other along the gold leather of the sectional couch within the sunken platform centered below the chandelier. Novice godchildren to the left, veteran godchildren to the right. Fraught with boredom yet ambivalent on how to spruce the uneventful atmosphere.

Timmy sat to Tootie's left who had busied herself in her notebook, somewhat surprised that he had any attention span left to observe her current black-ink sketch of a crown and starlike wand. Sitting through a classroom lecture always felt like mental torture, and yet, he could watch Tootie's hands seamlessly guide a pen or whatever tool utilized to her artistic will for hours. He didn't understand why this was so, nor did it seem to bother him enough to do so. Tootie herself didn't seem to mind an audience. At least, as long as it was him.

To Tootie's right, Remy had his back pressed to the cushion with arms coolly crossed. Dull eyes towards Chloe next to him who had been hunched over her stiff lap in her seat, scratching at the sides of her forehead as if she could possibly peel off the lines of worry. She'd been doing that for who knows how long, and he would have minded his business and let her keep doing so had it not grown increasingly peculiar enough to steadily grate at his curiosity.

"…why are you doing that?" his question seemed to jolt a haunted look when she snapped her gaze to him.

"I'm sorry..." she forced her fingers to practice restraint, lowering them to her lap to which they then began to wring together. "I-I'm just worried…"

"…about?"

"My dad." Chloe's inner guilt admitted. "H-He probably thinks I'm missing by now if he hasn't already…" she hung her head, struggling with eye contact. "H-He must be so stressed out, more than he has been. And it's all my fault…"

Meanwhile, the Buxaplentys were probably living it up in their private jet without a care in the world. They wouldn't bother looking for him even if they knew he was missing, and because that wasn't far from reality, Remy kept his assumptions to himself.

With Dwight's head slumped on the right shoulder of his leather jacket, Gary held his arms folded loosely to his torso with one leg crossed. Sitting still as to not disturb his best friend who had drifted off some time ago. With buzzing thoughts consuming his mind, he couldn't help the gaze that lingered upon the young billionaire. Only just meeting him today, he saw something in Remy that he wasn't sure if Timmy and the others could see, or had even noticed. Behind those rings of cool-mint frosted layers of ice, coming off as a type of cold that seemed more so emotionally stunted rather than completely heartless. Almost as if that iciness was a means of survival, something Gary knew all too well.

Playing it cool was his attempt to combat the roiling chaos within. By acting and portraying himself to be more calm and collected than he felt inside, it would sometimes trick his mind into believing that he was normal. Though, maybe that actually made him crazier than he knew he was. He would never be normal no matter how much he pretended to be.

Seated to Gary's left, Molly's fingers absently played with the curls placid against her left thigh. Keeping her fingers delicate as Hazel slept, knees drawn and melanated cheeks stained with dried tears. Somehow, she'd become the first person that Hazel would call upon whenever her broken shell wanted a hug or any form of comfort. It was hella weird as someone who hated close physical contact, yet she never seemed to mind with Hazel. Either Hazel was growing on her, or she was getting soft.

"How would it be your fault?" Timmy inserted himself into the first conversation in what felt like hours. "It's not like you chose to come here."

"But my dad is already going through so much because of me…" Chloe lamented.

"How?" Gary casually inquired, keeping his voice soft to where Dwight stirred but didn't wake. "I mean, like…what'd you do? If you don't mind me askin'…"

Chloe deepened her frown, still wringing her fingers. "…I-I'd rather not say."

"Hmm." Gary leaned his back of his gelled hair against the cushion. "…fair."

"Can't be that bad…" Molly gave her two cents. "You don't look like a kid who causes much trouble."

"…easy for you to say." Chloe raised her frown from the ground, feeling a bit judged. "You don't know me."

"And you don't know me." Molly countered. "Yet I bet you took one look at me and automatically labeled me a delinquent."

"Well your delinquent attitude certainly doesn't prove otherwise." Remy defended sourly, and Molly directed a scrunched nose towards him.

"You're lucky Hazel doesn't see what I see."

"Oh yeah? And what's that? A 'pretentious jerk,' as you call it?" Remy challenged. "Yet here you are. Casting judgement. Like a, quote unquote, 'pretentious jerk.'"

"Thin ice, Buxaplenty." Molly's stubborn brow warned, yet Remy's stern jaw showed no inferiority.

"Guys, can you not start this again?" Timmy groaned as Tootie paused in her sketch, wincing. Sensing the tension brewing once more.

"Tell that to Richie Rich over there!" Molly used the hand that was once playing with Hazel's curls to point a finger at Remy who grimaced in response, accidentally rousing Hazel's eyes to blink drowsily.

"Uh, you started this!" Remy disputed with his own pointing finger to Molly's scowl. "All you had to do was keep your useless mouth shut!"

"Fuck you!"

"Yo, cut it out!" Gary's annoyance raised his voice, jolting Dwight from his snooze in a low snort.

"Not my fault he's a dick!" Molly contested as Hazel shifted herself upright, discomfort crossing her face.

"Not my fault she's the biggest hypocrite I've ever met!" Remy insulted as Chloe rubbed the back of crossed arms, her muscles stiffening to the point of quivering.

"Do I hafta put you two in timeout like toddlers?!" Gary threatened as Dwight lifted his glasses to scrub sleepiness from his eyes.

Remy lasered his glare at Gary. "I'm not the issue here!"

"But you're part of the problem!" Timmy inserted, and Remy shot him a venomous look as if he'd been betrayed. "And nobody here wants to deal with you two fighting over nothing!"

"You know what?!" Remy shot to his feet, exercising the common sense to be the bigger person and just walk away. "Screw this…"

"Remy!" Chloe's call for him fell on deaf ears as the young billionaire charged up the two small steps to ground level. Footsteps thundering a subtle echo in the room's acoustics as he passed the double doors lined in green and teal leaves, headed towards the rightwing corridor.

"What the fuck ever…" Molly stormed from the couch much to Hazel's frowning displeasure. Stomping up those same small steps to where furious strides traveled to the corridor on the left, soon disappearing down the hall.

"Welp…never mind." Gary gravely exhaled, he and the remaining godchildren watching the quarrelling kids storm off in their separate ways. "They put themselves in timeout…"

"I-I'll go talk to him…" Chloe stood, feeling obligated to offer. If one of the three who knew Remy best were to attempt to talk Remy down, might as well be her. Tootie hardly spoke, and Timmy was…well…y'know. Timmy.

"I'll come with…" Gary groaned as he too rose from his seat. He'd had enough talkdowns with Molly to know that Molly cools off when she wants to, not because you tell her she should.

"Why? Timmy cocked a baffled brow. "Remy's not your friend."

"And yet you're not moving." Gary coolly disputed, passing his cousin's snubbed huff with little care to acknowledge.

Chloe took a tiny step back as Gary traveled to the small steps, uncertain if she was appreciative of his help or if she was wrong to doubt. However, she decided that it was unproductive to question and followed after Gary as her sandals flapped against the tile towards the rightwing corridor.

Dwight glanced over at Hazel climbing off the couch. Watching her hurried feet ascend up the small steps and race towards the leftwing as he presumed that Hazel was in pursuit of Molly. Not too out of the ordinary. Molly's ill temper would pop a gasket, and Hazel would intervene and try to talk her back down to a level head.

He wondered what good it would do for him to follow in Hazel's footsteps; aside from Gary, Molly was a godchild that he would consider himself somewhat close to. They used to attend Snerd Elementary together where they'd first met as godchildren. What kind of friend would he be if he didn't try?

"…ummmm…" Awkwardness slowly turned to the staring girl and the sulking boy across from him, pointing in the direction where Hazel had run off to. "I'm gonna…go."

Fidgeting with his bowl cut, Dwight cleared his throat before he shuffled off in a light scamper.

Once she found herself alone with the only boy she'd ever been fond of, Tootie felt her skin tingle from the flutters in her heart. The tips of her fingers began to chill from the death grip on her black pen, cowering when warmth spread through her cheeks. When she conjured the courage to tilt her gaze in his direction, she noted the hunched shoulders and arms crossed against his chest, blue orbs glaring to the ground with thin lips.

Without knowing for certain, she assumed that Gary's comment must have ticked Timmy off. Should she do something to help? What could she do?

If tensions weren't already high, Timmy would've given Gary a piece of his mind. The heck did he get off saying that crap!? Chloe can go after Remy all she wants, but if Remy was like him in the slightest, he likely wanted to be left alone, especially when really upset. Something Gary obviously wouldn't know because he'd just met the kid!

When Timmy felt a timid tug on his short sleeve, he snapped his gaze to feel something press the side of his thigh, seeing a page of notebook paper relatively blank except for the words are you okay written in black ink. Brow slit in slight confusion, he raised his eyes to the bashful blinks of purple orbs that seemed to anticipate a response, and as he stared at her, he noticed when she held out her pen as if expecting him to use it. Why would she write what she could've just said out loud? Or did she sense that he had no mood to use his words and yet still extended a listening ear in her own way?

Biting at her bait, Timmy accepted the pen and shifted the notebook to where his right hand could write I will be. Are you?

When he held the pen to her, she hesitated to take it back. She didn't intend for any focus to be on her, but the fact that Timmy indulged her at all was enough for her to eventually use her pen to write I wish no one would fight.

Timmy's stomach clenched, remembering the grave mistake of beating Francis within an inch of his life in the cafeteria, in front of Tootie, before his wish rewrote time's reality. He remembered how scared she looked, remembered the terror in her tiny voice. Reading the words I wish no one would fight sparked the flash of events that had solely become his memories, haunting him like a bad dream.

Without going into vivid details, she had opened up to him in the past as to why she and Vicky had missed school to attend court. Dad was a giant crapsicle, yet Timmy couldn't recall a time where Dad had laid a hand on him. Dad (and Mom) punished him with words, not with fists. In fact, Vicky pounded on him way more than his parents gave him a spanking, if at all. Still, he couldn't imagine growing up in an environment like that, 24/7. In a way, it made sense to why she seemed so uneasy just from loud yelling.

Tootie would have no memory of witnessing his act of venging violence, but that lesson had taught Timmy to never show that side of him around her. Giving into that level of violent rage would make him feel like the worst person in the world. And it would only solidify his family constantly comparing him to the literal worst person ever…

Holding out his hand for her to return the pen to him, Timmy let his exasperation huff through his lips as he wrote Me too.

"Why are you so mean to Remy?!" Hazel probed the gothic girl pacing back and forth along the width of the white stone corridor aglow with candle sconces. While Dwight was to her right waiting for the right chance to chime in, Hazel had taken the reigns in trying to talk some sense into the ill-tempered godchild.

"And why are you defending him!?" Molly probed back, continuing to pace. Fearing that if she took the second to stand still, that second would ignite an aggressive explosion that would not be fair to Hazel.

"Remy has never been mean to me!" Hazel defended. "He was always the only person at the country club who was nice!"

"Duh, cuz you have a fairy!" Molly scoffed. "Bet he'd sung a different tune if you didn't!"

"I don't believe that!" Hazel huffed.

"Well, you should!" Molly faced the little girl, balling her knuckles white. "Remember that racist that called you a negro and assumed you were stealing?! He would've done the same exact thing had you not been a godchild!"

Hazel gawked at the harsh memory, the one of many, many harsh memories "…you don't know that."

"And you don't know him like you think you do!"

"Well…to be fair…" Dwight took a small step forward, thinking now could be a good time to insert himself when he sensed the crack in Hazel's resolve. "I don't know Remy either, but…he doesn't strike me as someone who'd pick a fight unprovoked."

Breaths growling in her throat, Molly resumed her pacing. Nails digging so far into her palms that she could have broken skin. "Oh, so now you're defending him!"

"No? But…" Dwight kept his voice calm. "I do think you're a little quick to judge him."

"Oh yeah?" Molly broke from her pacing in a furious loom towards Dwight, stopping inches from his feet. "And what rich asshole have you not met?!"

Dwight's furrowed brow blinked, drawing a blank "…um-"

"Exactly!"

Molly didn't give Dwight a chance to even process her reasoning for a rebuttal, spinning away as she bit back screams of frustration. The deepness of her grimace dimpled in Hazel's chin, growing more rattled. Molly's fuse still flickered, and they weren't making any progress.

. . . . . .

"You shouldn't stoop to her level." Chloe tried. Crouched on her knees to the left of Remy planted against the wall, clawing at the sides of his hair with trembling fingers subtle in their irritated tremble.

"And just let her talk any kind of way just by doing literally nothingto her?!" Frustration flared in Remy's nostrils, mint-green narrowed. "I think not!"

"But you're better than that."

"I will not be some pushover!"

"I get it; Molly's rough around the edges." Gary sympathized, kneeled on one knee to Remy's right.

"Understatement of the freaking century!" Remy spat.

"But when you get to know her and she gets to know you, she's cool." Gary reasoned. "New people just ain't her strong suit."

"People period isn't her strong suit!" Remy snapped.

…fair. Gary thought to himself before he spoke aloud "Not to excuse her behavior, but she's been through a lot."

"Hello?! Why do you think every kid here has fairy godparents!?" Remy barked.

"Remy's right." Chloe interjected, Remy scrubbing at the throb brewing in his temples. "That's no excuse for hostility."

"I just said I'm not excusing her behavior." Gary corrected. "I'm just giving a different perspective."

Tugging at a wad of platinum blonde strands, Chloe bit her lip. Holding her tongue from the insult of how garbage that perspective was. Being rude would do nothing but hurt the situation.

"Look…" Gary shifted in his kneel, now directly in front of the fuming blonde. "I know Molly's a very…very bitter pill to swallow. But if you fight fire with fire, what do you get?"

Mint-green scowled into blue. "So I'm just supposed to just grin and bear her crap?!"

"No? Just…" Gary kept his voice calm. "…prove her wrong."

In a quizzical pause, Remy's creased brow squinted in his eyes "…prove her wrong?"

"Yeah." Gary grasped at positive straws. "She's convinced that you're this terrible person, right? Show her you're not."

"…and just how am I supposed to do that?"

. . . . . .

"You guys already have a common interest; fairy godparents!" Dwight grasped at positive straws. "That's already step one!"

"Which I still don't get why he even deserves one!" Molly groused, each pacing stride as restless as the anger surging through her veins.

"…should that matter?"

"Hell yeah, it should! He has the magic of money! The fuck he needs a godparent to get him what he wants when he can just buy it!?"

"Money doesn't buy happiness."

"It doesn't…" Hazel jutted her bottom lip, rubbing the back of her sweater's sleeves. "I would know."

Realization paused Molly's angered strides, finding her glare waning to the lingered gloom in those big brown eyes. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that a kid like Hazel came from an affluent family. Maybe because she was adopted into wealth instead of that wealth coursing through her blood. Or maybe because her white family was sticklers for ostracizing the token black kid at every given chance.

If any rich kid deserved a godparent, Hazel certainly fit that bill. Not some blonde-haired, green-eyed, walking piggybank of privilege!

"Just think about it." Dwight tried. "If he's rich and still has a godparent, wouldn't that make you think that there's something below the surface?"

Squeezing her fists at her sides, Molly diverted her gaze, strained in her features.

"Point is, we all have some kind of pain in our lives." Dwight maintained his distance, noting the slit brow and gritted jaw that would not be wise stepping any closer to. "Remy's pain is just different than yours," he motioned to himself "different from mine," his palm reached to the little girl's bunched shoulder "even different from Hazel's."

Brown orbs glistened of unshed tears, slowly subsiding maddened rage with deep breaths.

Taking this as a sense that she was calmer, Dwight inched forward. "Would you rather be around kids who don't know what true pain is? Who can't even comprehend it?"

Yale-blue sharpened in a narrowed gaze, her anger toned down in her grumble. "He can never understand my pain…"

"But he likely knows what it can feel like."

The corners of her mouth pinched.

"And that has to be why he's here, why any of us are here." Dwight reasoned, Hazel hugging herself behind him. "Because that pain became too great, even with magic…"

. . . . . .

"How could she ever understand me?" Remy griped, his voice that still dripped with agitation now less spiteful than previous. Lowered in his frustrated gaze with one hand clutching his head, absently scrunching at the leg of his black pants with the other. "She'll never know what it's like to be me."

"Just like you'll never know what it's like to be her. And that's okay." Gary leveled, hoping things were finally on the incline. "But at least you can understand that your pain, and her pain, can't be measured as worse or better than the other or anyone else's."

Fully seated to Remy's left with her arms on her knees, Chloe mentally chided herself. She knew Remy longer, yet Gary had done most of the talking. Was she so pathetic that she couldn't talk her own friend down? God, she was so useless. Such a failure…

Remy's shoulders drooped defeatedly. "Then why is she so adamant that I don't deserve my fairy…"

Gary exhaled, dropping his chin "…because she doesn't feel like she deserves hers."

Both Remy and Chloe fixed their gaze to the eldest godchild.

"And honestly…" Gary furrowed with shame "…I dunno if I deserve mine."

Chloe's brow knitted in the middle, her voice dull and distant "…I don't deserve mine, either…" she wiped a threatening tear with the back of her wrist.

"And that's another thing we all have in common." Gary commented, his voice weary. "We think our godparents are too good to us…"

"…i-is that why the Fairy Council brought us here?" there was a subtle tremor in Chloe's voice, blue eyes rimmed with tears. "…they don't think…we deserve our godparents?"

"Then they would've just taken them away." Gary surmised.

"But don't you see?" Chloe sniveled. "They did take them away!"

The atmosphere became heavy, weighed down by mutual guilt hanging in the air. Whether they wanted to accept it or not, Chloe had a point. They're godparents were gone, and the Council was keeping their whereabouts under lock and key. Though, if they'd truly lost their godparents, why were their memories not erased? Why were they not on Earth living the lives they miserable lived before they ever knew godparents existed?

Is that why Vicky's so mean? Timmy continued his written conversation with Tootie. He never would've guessed how easy it was to talk to Tootie, even if in an unconventional way.

Kind of Tootie folded her lips. The conversation that was 'supposed' to primarily revolve around Timmy and his feelings somehow veered towards Tootie and more details about her family's troubled background. She hated this touchy subject; however, he seemed less angry than earlier. In fact, he seemed quite…open with her.

Guess that makes sense Timmy shrugged. Still hate that she has to be mean to me.

Reluctant to respond, Tootie scrunched her brow. Dragging the pen in apprehensive strokes as she wrote She thinks you deserve it.

Puzzled, Timmy raised a brow. Why?

Tootie froze, hesitant to take the pen back from Timmy's offer. Should she be honest and potentially damage the civility they have going? Or should she spare his feelings and knit a fabric of dishonesty into their friendship?

No; this whole time, Timmy had been open with her. Open about the pain he felt from his parents' resentment, about the saving grace of Cosmo and Wanda. He was even open with how he was somewhat excited for a new godbrother or godsister because it could feel like a fresh start in being a better brother. There were still things she knew Timmy was keeping from her, just as she kept some things from him. Nevertheless, this was the most open he'd ever been with her. Especially after Sophia's death…

…so, she should be open with him, too.

Retrieving the pen from Timmy, Tootie swallowed back her trepidation. Her writing was within Timmy's line of view, so he could see the exact words that her handwriting spelled. With each black letter etched into white paper, his heart sank further. Splashing into a bottomless pit once her hand stopped writing, and her sentence was complete…

Because of Sophia.

He slouched against the back cushion, head hanging with a pained grimace. Making Tootie wince before she attempted to rewrite the blow to his spirit.

She thinks that anyone who hurts their own kin like our parents deserves karma, but I told her you didn't. I told her it was an accident and that you didn't mean to hurt Sophia like our parents meant to hurt us.

She could barely finish the word 'us' before she gasped as his hand swiped the pen from her grip. Flipping to a fresh page, he scribbled the words You don't have to explain.I do deserve it. I deserve karma.

The words that slashed paper with ink too slashed at both her empathy and her unsettled concern.

And I deserve to be dead.