Chapter 45: Panic Attack
— Wanda's POV—
Even before her eyes were fully opened, she was immediately engulfed in a sense of unease. A wave of nausea crashed over her, leaving her feeling sicker than she had ever felt before. Her stomach twisted into tight knots, her head throbbed relentlessly, and an unpleasant taste lingered at the back of her throat. As she slowly opened her eyes, a grimace formed on her face, accompanied by a shaky breath, as the surge of nausea intensified. The dimly lit recovery room greeted her, although she had no recollection of how she ended up there. Her memories abruptly ceased during the Mardi-gras party. Whimpering, she rolled onto her stomach and sought solace by burying her head under the pillow. Each attempt to recall fragmented memories sent sharp jolts of pain searing through her brain.
"Is this what a hangover feels like?" she wondered aloud, her voice filled with discomfort. It seemed unjust that all the most enjoyable things in life came with negative consequences: delicious food and weight gain, staying up late and the resulting exhaustion, dancing all night and the ensuing sore feet, laughing too hard and the accompanying stomach cramps, even a sunny day at the beach and the painful sunburn.
She rolled over once more, relieved that the curtains were drawn, casting the room into near darkness despite the time of day. The curtains were remarkably thin, and yet, likely because of magic, able to block out all light; even though before the light had filtered through them naturally. Perhaps the magic in them was responding to her need for dimness now; she had a feeling that exposing herself to too much brightness right now would leave her feeling 10x worst then she already did.
Silence enveloped the space, broken only by the soft sounds emanating from the other side of the bed. A soft, relaxed and rhythmic breathing that was soothing to the ears, like a purring of kitten. Timmy lay wrapped up in blankets, positioned much farther away from her than he usually slept. Worried, she searched her hazy memories as best she could, but could not recall any arguments or disagreements breaking out between them.
"Unless…." She recalled how her father's breath always reeked after a night of revelry. She cupped her hand over her mouth and breathed, scrunching her face in response to the unmistakable odor. It became clear why he had distanced himself. "Whew…that's just downright foul! No wonder he kept such a distance between us."
She looked over at where he laid on the other side of the bed. He was curled up, wrapped in his blankets like a little sushi roll. He had such a peaceful, gentle expression on his face; unlike her, he would likely wake up feeling refreshed. She, on the other hand, felt as if she had been dragged across mountains by a team of dragons while she slept.
"I reckon I need some mouthwash…and maybe a little aspirin too." She whimpered, her voice barely audible as she struggled to maintain her balance. The room spun around her, making it impossible to move forward without stumbling. With great effort, she reluctantly gave up on the idea of floating and began shuffling towards the bathroom.
Her gaze involuntarily fell upon her reflection in the large mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. The sight appalled her. Her face was drawn and pale, and her cheeks and nose were as red as apples, dark bags hung heavily under her eyes.
"Lawsy, I've got bigger bags under my eyes than my Nana does…" She attempted to pat down her disheveled hair, which had somehow returned to its usual swirl hairstyle. It then dawned on her that she was dressed in her night-robe, although she had no recollection of getting ready for bed. Everything was one giant blur; all she could remember was that she had lots of fun….music, entertainment and lots of free food and drinks….
Well, she was paying for it now
Opening the medicine cabinet, she located the aspirin. However, as she turned on the faucet to take them, a wave of nausea surged through her body. Doubled over the toilet, she tried to vomit, hoping it would relieve some of the sickness she felt, but she only managed to expel a few drops of bile. The sickening sensation slid back down her throat, leaving a burning sensation in her nose and eyes.
She stumbled back from the toilet, feeling weak and disoriented. The pounding headache intensified, throbbing behind her temples like a relentless drumbeat. Her mouth felt dry and tasted of regret, as if every sip of alcohol was now taunting her.
She dragged herself to the sink, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to shake off the dizziness. But the water seemed to mock her, its refreshing touch doing little to alleviate the queasiness that continued to churn in her stomach.
Her disheveled reflection stared back at her accusingly. She had succumbed to the allure of having letting loose and partied like she had never done before. It had been so much fun, and after all her stress, hadn't she earned a good time? Surely one little slip up after thousands of years of pristine behavior did not deserve to be punished so severely.
She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing, but the memories of the night flashed before her like a chaotic slideshow. The music blaring in her ears, the laughter and cheers, the carefree abandon that had momentarily consumed her. It had all seemed so exhilarating at the time, but now it felt like a heavy weight dragging her down….and yet she found herself unable to regret her actions.
It had just been so much fun….
She almost had to force herself to swallow the aspirin, hoping they would provide some relief.
She stood there, leaning against the sink, taking in a few deep breaths as she tried to will the medication to work faster. A part of her was sorely tempted to return to bed, but another part of her protested she couldn't possibly allow Timmy to see her this way.
'Shoot, who cares if he sees me lookin' all ragged? Ain't like he's gonna think any less of me for it.' One voice in her head brushed off the concern and insisted she go lay back down, whilst another voice harshly scolded her. 'Timmy looks up to me, and he depends on me. I cannot possibly let him see me this way.'
She stood there, feeling torn, like there were two of her inside of her head, playing tug-o-war, but finally the later won. She brushed her teeth and gargled with mouthwash, even though it worsened her upset stomach. Hoping it would restore some vigor to her, she decided to take a bath.
She examined the dial on the side of it; it had different settings that could fill the bath with different herbal soaks, oils and minerals. It was indispensable in helping Timmy feel better after his treatments. There was a dial with settings for "Cramps", "sprains" "Sleepy" "Stress" "Sore" and the one labeled 'First Treatment', but unfortunately, nothing for hangovers. There was a small touch screen to the side of the dial that allowed for customizing ones bath blend, but it had so many options that it would take hours to scroll through them all, and she did not know anything more about plants than what she thought smelt nice to know what would help her condition best.
"Somethin' for a hangover…oh, lookie here, there's a search button…" She fiddled with the touchscreen, wondering faintly about such a modern, technical feature; she doubted Fey actually used computers—she was sure everything that appeared electronic in this world was in reality powered by magic.
Regardless of the true nature of the touch screen, it functioned just as a normal program would and a bath blend suggestion came up. She did not bother to read all the ingredients; she just wanted to bathe, and hopefully recover at least half of her dignity before Timmy woke up.
The tub magically filled; the bathwater swirled and shimmered, shifting from clear to a soft minty green. Wisps of steam rose, carrying the refreshing scent of peppermint and ginger with delicate hints of lavender and elderflower.
Tiny bubbles floated to the surface, releasing the essence of cucumber and aloe vera that gently cooled her skin as she sank into the warm water. The bath had a subtle effervescence, almost like sparkling water, easing the tension in her muscles with every ripple. Willow bark extract mingled in, turning the water silky as the pain in her temples slowly subsided. The faint bitterness of dandelion root lingered in the air, grounding her senses and clearing away the lingering fog in her mind.
With each breath, she felt the tightness in her chest unravel, and as the soothing warmth surrounded her, the ache in her head melted away like ice in the sun. By the time she leaned back to close her eyes, the world had steadied, and the exhaustion weighing her down had begun to lift.
"Ah, this here's so relaxin'. I'm just gonna close my eyes for a spell and take a little rest…" One voice inside her head though as she let her shoulders sink below the water, while another voice insisted she sit up straight and open her eyes, warning her 'Your going to fall asleep if you do that!' The voices battled against each other again, but this time the former was victorious and she released a relaxed sigh, and resting her head on the back of the tub, closed her eyes.
— Timmy Pov—
Knock, knock, knock…
The sound echoed through the room, stirring him from his peaceful slumber. He groaned, feeling the weight of his eyelids as he struggled to open them. The rapping continued, persistent and unwavering, pulling him further into consciousness.
With a pang of annoyance over the constant knocking at the door, he glanced around the room, searching for Wanda. But she was nowhere to be found. Figuring she had gone to tend to his Heart-soul or get fresh air in the garden, he wasn't alarmed, but concern did flicker within him as he realized the absence of her usual note on the bedside table, where she would always leave him a message if she wasn't in the main room.
Summoning his strength, he attempted to sit up, only to be met with unexpected resistance. Every movement felt like a Herculean effort, leaving him light-headed and disoriented. Determined, he mustered the strength to stand, but his weakened body betrayed him, causing him to collapse back onto the bed with a yelp.
As the knocking momentarily ceased, a voice drifted through the door belonging to Nova. His gentle tone carried concern and a hint of urgency.
"Timmy, did you just let out a cry? Should you be feeling under the weather, then please, do remain in bed. All I ask is that you kindly provide me with authorization to access the premises so that I may see to your wellbeing. As per the contractual regulations, entry without the consent of the occupants is not permitted. If you are too ill to converse, then just willing permission for my access within your head is enough."
"Grandpa…" He smiled, feeling relieved; and he had so much he wanted to say to him, to thank him for such a wonderful party and for being so nice to them. He knew Wanda would probably not want him to allow Nova into the room when she wasn't around, but after he did so many nice things for them, he just couldn't tell him no. "Ok, you can come in!"
"Oh, what a good boy you are." Nova smiled at him as he opened the door, and he blinked, surprised seeing that he was in the company of the Tooth Fairy.
"Hi, Timmy!" She greeted him sweetly. "How are you doing, little fella?"
He almost replied 'I'm good!' out of habit, but he was anything but, and from the way her expression changed as she took the time to look at him, he had the feeling that even if he insisted he felt well, that neither of them would believe it.
"Actually, I'm really weak…." He told them honestly and before he even finished speaking the sentence, Nova was hovering over to his side, checking his pulse and his eyes.
He had deposited a tiny basket on the bed with a little critter inside; the same species as one of the Companion friends Nova had given to him to play with in the Snuggle & Cuddle room. It looked hurt, though….what happened to it? Before he could ask about it though, Nova had already begun speaking; his voice filled with care and remorse.
"Oh, you pitiable child! Please accept my profound apologies for encroaching on your crucial sleep. Feel free to return to your slumber without feeling obligated to stay awake. First, however, could you kindly furnish me with the present whereabouts of Wanda? Our purpose for being here is to provide assistance for a minor issue she is dealing with.
"I don't know." He admitted as Nova quickly went about tucking him back into bed and propping his head up with pillows for extra support so he could sit up and converse with them easily without expending any extra energy. "I just woke up. Usually she leaves a note, but she must have forgot…"
"How unlike her."
"Well, considering she's Linking, her sense of responsibility may have gotten swapped around."
"Linking?" He asked, a sense of worry creeping up on him. "Is—is Wanda alright?"
"Oh, don't fret child, it's a minor issue that can occur when a fairy or Anti-fairy stays for a prolonged time in Fey world; it's temporary and doesn't last for all that long, and it's duration can be drastically shortened with a little treatment."
"That's correct, Timmy," said the Tooth Fairy as she settled beside him on the bed, carefully sweeping his bangs from his eyes. Her touch was cautious, almost tentative, as though she feared causing him pain by mere contact. This filled him with a sense of melancholy, realizing that he appeared so delicate and frail that the mere act of touching him had compelled her to do so with the utmost gentleness. She smiled; a smile with more pity in it than care and spoke to him in a tone that was much like her touch; cautiously gentle.
"You see, since Fairies and Anti-Fairies can become Fey if they reunite as a single being, when one half stays in Fey world too long, it tricks the mind into thinking they are unifying when they are not."
"It can be perceived as a form of psychogenic disorder, I suppose." Nova's add on, did not help him make any sense of it as he tried to puzzle out the implications of what he was being told.
All throughout the entirety of their Mardi-gras party, Wanda had kept speaking with a southern accent. He had thought she was just being playful….
"So…her personality got swapped around with Anti-Wanda? But…that can't be right. She was her usual self towards me and Anti-Wanda…well, she's kinda doesn't like me, 'cause I'm always stopping her husband from taking over Fairy World."
"Not her entire personality; just some traits. Like, Wanda would always be responsible enough to leave you a note for her whereabouts, right? But if her high sense of responsibility got swapped Anti-Wanda's zero sense, then that's why there is no note." The Tooth Fairy corrected.
His face flushed, thinking about how much Wanda had drunk during the party; and how she had done a few things she normally wouldn't do—such as mocking his parents and casually bringing his illness up in conversation. He had thought she had just been drunk and letting her tongue slip, but if a couple of her traits had gotten swapped; that would explain it. How could he not have realized it? What had he been thinking, just chalking it all up to her having drank too much? How stupid of him…
Nova smiled lopsidedly. "…She drank far more than I anticipated. When I sensed her personal butler conjuring up such an excess, I had to shut him off. I ought to have known something was amiss."
He shrugged, forcing a smile, in order to hide how miserably he was feeling over his oversight. He should have noticed and did something to help her, rather than just chuckle to himself about Wanda letting loose and partying. "Yeah, it makes sense now; not even a drunk normal Wanda would ever insist I take a sip of that stuff! Heck, a normal Wanda would never even get drunk."
"Oh Yes, Anti-Stella—" Nova took a side glance at the Tooth Fairy, his tone implying that he was adding the Anti to his wife's name because of a complaint she had made. "Gave me a thorough account of Anti-Wanda's lack of self-discipline, and Stella had much to say about the apparently common knowledge that the Fairywinkle and Enchantelune families are well known…" He paused for a moment. "…Connoisseurs of wine. Though she later had to concede to me that Wanda hadn't exhibited any vices in that regard..." He cleared his throat and then spoke with a perfect impression of Mama Cosma. "'At least she is not the excessive bar hopper her floozy of a mother is, but that is all the good I can say of her',"
He giggled at the impersonation, it being amusing enough to chase away a little of the gloom he felt; it was as if Mama Cosma was in the room with them, but even laughing seemed to make him feel worn out. Nova gave his arm a reassuring squeeze as he took notice of his weakening state.
"Please return to slumber and obtain the necessary amount of rest. We will locate Wanda and ensure her proper personality is restored, so that by the time you awaken, she will have returned to her original state."
He would have loved to just close his eyes and go back to bed, but he was now worried about Wanda and knew he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep until he saw her. Nova seemed to read this in his expression and furrowed his brows as he looked around the room curiously.
"I have detected her presence in close proximity, yet it is peculiar that she has not emerged. The only soundproof chamber available is the Snuggle room, and I do not imagine she'd pass time in there, so she ought to know we are here."
The Tooth Fairy sniffed the air and looked towards the bathroom door. "I smell a nice scent; maybe she is in the middle of a bath?"
"There is no doubt that she would be able to hear us from within that place. Nevertheless, I am capable of perceiving the aroma of soap." The concerned expression on Nova's face brought his worry to full anxiety and he called out, his voice coming out a little higher then he had wanted it to.
"Wanda?!"
"Don't worry." The Tooth Fairy gave him a reassuring smile. "She's probably just listening to music; I do it all the time—put in some water proof earbuds and just relax to the soundscape of a tropical rainforest—that or Chip Skylark." She chuckled. "I'll go check on her."
He watched anxiously as she went to the bathroom, gently knocked and not receiving an answer went inside. A few seconds later she cried out and his heart leap; his head grew foggy—his vision blurring; the energy his panic expended being more than his run down body could take. Nova gave his arm a squeeze, stopping him from fainting and he watched, pale, as the Tooth Fairy carried Wanda out, wrapped in a towel.
"She fell asleep in the bath!" The Tooth Fairy explained as she laid Wanda down on the floor and gave her stomach a push, making her cough up a large amount of water; she bolted upright, gasping and sputtering—looking a little like a goldfish that got tossed out of its bowl.
"Well, my stars, what just happened…? I feel like a poor ol' drowned cat, bless my heart." She wheezed, gasping for breath as the Tooth Fairy patted her between the shoulders and offered an explanation.
"Shh, it's ok, she's fine." Nova cradled him, gently stroking his back. He hadn't realized how badly his body had begun trembling until he felt the uncontrollable shudders as his breathing turned shallow. When the Tooth Fairy carried Wanda's limp form out of the bathroom, something inside him snapped. His vision blurred, his chest tightening like a vise as a wave of cold terror surged through him. The tears came, hot and fast, and with them, a sharp, gnawing panic that twisted his insides into knots.
Wanda, still coughing and sputtering up water, barely registered her surroundings until she noticed his state. Her eyes widened in alarm, and despite her own lingering distress, she immediately rushed to him, cupping his face in her still-cold hands.
Nova quickly looked away, snapping his fingers to poof Wanda out of her loosening towel and into her night robe. But she didn't seem to notice. Her attention was solely on him, her eyes brimming with worry.
"Oh, sugar, what's the matter? Why are you cryin'? You feelin' poorly? Are you hurtin', darlin'?" She continued to speak with a Southern accent, not the hillbilly variety that Anti-Wanda adopted, but rather in the manner of a refined Southern belle. Nevertheless, he preferred her usual voice, though he was truly just relieved that she was well enough to talk at all!
"I was—so scared! I thought you drowned…" The words rushed out between gasps for air. His chest felt tight, his breaths jagged and uneven. Tears kept spilling over, not just for the fear he felt now, but for everything he'd bottled up. This happened every time…and he hated it! The tears came so easily, and once he started, he couldn't stop; it all poured out, flooding him with an overwhelming mix of sadness, fear, and helplessness.
Cosmo would sometimes roll his eyes when this happened, muttering, "Here we go again," but Wanda—Wanda never did that. She was always patient, always willing to greet his tears with gentle reassurances and warm hugs, yet seeing her worry so deeply over him only made him feel worse.
"Oh, Pumpkin!" Wanda's voice was laced with desperation as she wiped at his tears with a handkerchief she poofed up. "Shh, shh, it's alright, I'm here. Mommy's here." But her reassurances made him cry harder. The more he tried to get the words out, the more they tangled in his throat, the hiccupping sobs breaking up his speech.
"If I… hic … ever lost you… I dunno what I'd do… I'd be all alone…" He hated how his voice cracked, how he couldn't keep the words inside even though he knew how much it hurt her to hear them. Just like his tears, his thoughts just tumbled out of his mouth with no control.
"Shh, take a deep breath now, that's right Darlin', just focus on breathin', shh…it's ok, you're ok, I'm ok, everything is ok….
His breathing came in sharp, erratic bursts, each one catching painfully in his chest. His heart raced, pounding so hard it made him dizzy, but listening to Wanda's words and feeling her touch helped as he tried to follow her instructions on how to get his breathing under control.
"Oh, precious, I'd never leave you alone." Wanda's eyes softened, and she gently dabbed at his tear-streaked face. "I'm okay, see?" But he shook his head frantically, still focused on the blue tint lingering on her lips from nearly drowning. It was his fault, wasn't?
"Your hurt because of me...you could have died because of me...,all my fault..." he spoke in a broken whisper, his eyes wide with fear. The world felt like it was closing in on him, and every beat of his heart sent a tremor through his body.
Because he had back talked to Vicky and had run too close to the stairs, he had gotten hurt, if he had not got hurt then Wanda would not of had to stay in Fey world so long and would not have begun Linking with Anti-Wanda. If she had not been Linking with her counterpart, she would not of drank too much at the party, and because he had not stopped her, she had fallen asleep in the bathtub.
It was his fault!
Everything was always his fault!
"I'll be fine, I promise," Wanda murmured, though the slight hoarseness in her voice was hard to miss. "Fairies can't drown, even ones like me with enough human in 'em to need oxygen. We just pass out and have a mighty uncomfortable wakin' up, but we can't die from it." Her expression became one of remorse and guilt. "I'm so sorry, sugar—I didn't mean to scare you like that. Mommy's so sorry, baby." She hugged him tightly, pressing kisses to his head as she rocked him gently. Her touch was a lifeline, pulling him back from the spiral of panic.
Even though parts of her personality had swapped with Anti-Wanda, the way she held him—the way she loved him—remained the same. That familiar warmth, the steadiness of her embrace, was enough to make him feel safe again, even if only a little. Slowly, his gasps became softer, his sobs turning into quiet sniffles. Her voice, soothing and tender, wrapped around him like a lullaby, helping him find his breath.
Gradually, the overwhelming panic gave way to exhaustion. He felt heavy, like the weight of all that fear was pressing down on him until he could hardly keep his eyes open. Still nestled in Wanda's arms, he let himself surrender to the comfort she offered. His tears dried on his cheeks as sleep finally claimed him.
— Tannfe (Tooth Fairy) Pov—
She now understood why Cosmo had said the things he had, when she and Jorgen had gone to pick up the popsicle stick creations though it did not excuse his mockery of his godchild, but she comprehended the sentiment that 'Timmy had become someone else.'
Witnessing Timmy Turner, the mischievous scamp of Fairy World who bravely faced Anti-Fairies, Pixies, Genies, and even the Fairy Council, reduced to such a fragile state was…shocking, depressing and mortifying all at once…it also made her angry, not at Timmy, but at the world in general for dragging him down to such a point.
This was not the typical heightened sensitivity that came with puberty; it was something much more severe. The expression on his face was indescribable—a mix of frenzied desperation, overwhelmed by waves of despair, plunging into a profound core of haunting emptiness. It was an expression she had seen once before….but where?
She had believed Cosmo was exaggerating when he said that Timmy had become so fragile that it felt like treading on eggshells, but now she understood. It seemed that a single misplaced word could completely shatter him, leaving nothing but broken pieces in its wake.
She wondered how much truth was in Cosmo's claims that Wanda's 'coddling' was making things worse? She watched as Wanda soothed the boy who was shaking from head to toe. It struck her how she did not appear alarmed by it, and comforted him with ease, the softness of her voice and her movements made without even a hint of uncertainty made it clear that she had gone through this with him many times now.
She lowered her head, casting her eyes to the floor. Should she tell Jorgen what she had saw? Or would doing so bring even more sadness to Timmy's life? She'd like to believe her husband had learned his lesson after what happened to Julia, but…
Thinking that tragic little girl's name brought back a memory, like a lightening blot to her mind—where she had seen the expression Timmy had made, before—when she had gone to Julia's house to deliver her Tooth money….and to ask why…why she had lost so many of her teeth at once…
"…I don't want Daddy to get hurt for not paying the bad men back, and wisshing for money ithn't allowed, tho I thought I could get thome by leaving lotth of teeth…"
She shuddered as the image of that girl's face entered her mind—the face Timmy made when he cried was the face Little Julia had worn all the time…
She looked at Nova and, by his rapt expression, she realized that he had noticed it too. She sucked in her breath and folded her arms over her midsection, feeling queasy.
"Nova…" She kept her voice low so that Wanda, who was tending to Timmy, would not overhear. "Look…I know he must remind you of Julia, but you know he's n—…."
"You see it too?" He interrupted her, whirling around to stare up at her with wide, astonished eyes. "I thought that perhaps I was just being sentimental and forcing more of a resemblance than there was, but…" His eyes brightened like a child's on Christmas morning. "You also see Julia in him…"
'Shoot….' She gulped as she realized the horrible mistake she had just made; rather than dislodging the idea that Timmy was akin to Julia from his head, she had cemented it.
"His soul being newly born, it is clear that he cannot be her reincarnation, but he does remind one of her. Oh, why Stella hadn't told me of the resemblance, I cannot fathom, but such a gift it is to me to have even a shadow of that child back in my life." He spoke with such a thrill that she found herself too disturbed to say even a word in rebuke.
"Oh, bless his heart…he's finally resting now, ain't he? Poor little darlin'…he's just plum wore out." Wanda spoke, having not heard a word of their conversation since she had been so focused on Timmy. She had laid him down now and had covered him up with the blankets as she wiped his face clean of the tear stains.
"Wanda Dear…" Nova approached her, laying a hand on her shoulder. She was sure Wanda would have brushed it off had she been in her normal frame of mind. "Is it common for the young boy to experience panic attacks like this?"
"Well, I'd say them anxiety attacks are a might more common than his panic attacks." It was as if Anti-Wanda's lack of restraint had replaced Wanda's usual caution, leading her, to her dismay, to share the information with Nova more openly than she normally would.
"Aren't panic attacks and anxiety attacks just different names for the same thing?" She asked, feigning confusion, though her real motive was to divert Wanda from revealing further information to Nova, who was likely eager to find a justification to make Timmy another one of his 'saved' children.
Nova looked at her as if she had just asked if the sky was made of blue gelatin, while Wanda managed a weak smile that was just a tad patronizing.
"I used to think so myself 'til Timmy started havin' 'em; you see, with his anxiety attacks, you can usually spot 'em comin', there's always a bit of a build-up…" Wanda sighed, her gaze turning distant as she seemed to recall unpleasant things she'd rather not think about. "You can see all the things that upset him just stack up on top of each other, and you know it's gonna come tumblin' down once it gets too high. But them panic attacks…" She shook her head, her shoulders drooping. ""They just come outta nowhere, and they're so much worse. Sometimes somethin' that wouldn't usually bother him sets it off, and when I ask him 'bout it, he says his head's too foggy to remember why it happened." Wanda lifted her eyes from the floor and turned them back onto Timmy, a smile full of maternal devotion spreading across her face. "But, no matter what kinda attack he's havin', as long as I hold him close and let him know I'm right there, he'll eventually settle down and drift off to sleep…" She gazed at him tenderly, stroking his flushed cheek, blinking back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "I just wish he didn't have to go through so much hurt to find that peace."
"…Poor Timmy…." She murmured because it felt like she ought to say something but she honestly had no idea of what she could even say.
Wanda furrowed her brows, eyeing her up and down curiously, as if only now really realizing she was in the room. "By the way, what brings you here, Tooth Fairy?"
She wasn't unaccustomed to having her title said instead of her name; but she wondered if maybe Wanda simply did not know it; they had never been close. "You can call me by my name. It'll make things easier."
"….." The blank look she got in response confirmed that Wanda did not know what that was; she wouldn't be surprised if 80% of Fairy world was in that camp. "It's Tannfe."
"Ok." Wanda accepted this information with a lackluster response. "And what brings you here? ….Oh, is Jorgen still all turned around from them cuckoo clocks?"
Nova snickered a little, and she clicked her tongue, crossing her arms.
"Yes, he needs some rest, so I came to drop off some presents Poof got for Timmy and there's a card for you as well." She decided to start off with this, rather than try to explain to Wanda that she was Linking, or rather telling a Fairy with a bad case of Linking that they were Linking was the worse thing you could do.
"Aw, ain't that just precious?" Wanda exclaimed, taking the cards Poof had crafted and looking at them with a proud smile. "My little baby boy is just the sweetest thing." She looked fondly over at the slumbering Timmy. "Of course, he's got a wonderful big brother to be learnin' from. Oh, I see that look on your face, and yes, I know Timmy can be a bit of a rascal now and then. But lately, he's been nothing but a sweet little angel…he's just a reflection of what you pour into him."
"What you pour?" She tilted her head to the side, unsure of what she meant.
"Back in the days when the Turners still paid him any mind, he was such a sweet, well-mannered little angel. Then the neglect started, along with all that torment from Vicky—that's when Cosmo and I stepped in. By then he'd grown cynical, used to bein' around folks who only cared 'bout themselves. Naturally, he thought that's how people were supposed to act. It took some work, but I've managed to get him back to his eight-year-old self—just as sweet and kind as ever." Wanda nodded her head. "Timmy's the sort of child whose whole personality will shift to reflect the care he's given."
"Hm…" Nova cupped his chin, his brows furrowing as mumbled to himself. "RAD or DTD? Perhaps a mingling of both…hm, yes, quite possible…"
She did not understand what either of those terms meant and it was clear that Nova was talking more to himself than to either of them, so she did not ask. To be honest, she was out of her element; she neither knew what to do or say and could only mumble a meaningless, "I see…."
Wanda did not mind though as she smiled indulgently at the sleeping child. "Give him the love, attention and acceptance he needs, and he becomes the most precious little darlin'!" she gushed and then chuckled "Of course, if you take those things away, he'll act like a little terror—can't tell you how close he's come sometimes to drivin' Cosmo and me absolutely nuts. But whether he's an angel or an imp, he's my favorite godchild, and always will be."
"I'm glad Timmy has you." She told her truthfully; honestly, it sounded like a tough situation. She wasn't sure many other godparents would have the patience for it. Then, with the grace of an elephant in a China shop, she picked up the basket of materials she had prepared to 'shock' Wanda's senses and tried to force the subject to the reason why she had come in the first place. "Anyway, we should check you out, make sure everything is alright with you?"
"Tannfe, it would be advisable to escort dear Wanda to a proper examination room. The excessive consumption of alcohol, followed by a prolonged period of oxygen deprivation and the inhalation of soap and water, may have cause her to feel unwell."
"I'm feelin' fine," Wanda reassured with a smile, as she looked at the 'Miss you Mommy' card Poof had made for her.
"My dear, it is important to be prudent and exercise caution." Nova chided. "Ponder the immense grief that would be experienced by both of your sons should you become unwell."
"That is true." Wanda accepted with guilt creeping into her expression. "I gave Timmy such a needless shock…a panic attack was the very last thing his poor, weak little body needed."
"It would be best for treatments to take place away from the dear child who, worn out, needs his rest." Nova clicked his fingers and the bedroom door opened to reveal a hallway. "Take all the time that is necessary for you." He invited warmly. "A multitude of examination rooms are at your disposal, each carefully crafted with its own unique design."
Wanda peered out the door, curiously. "Well, I do declare, there's a whole hundred doors in this hall!"
"Our utmost priority is to provide individuals undergoing treatments with a space that is both comfortable and soothing, so we've made sure to have many options." Nova boasted proudly. "Ah, yes, I nearly forgot to mention, with your increased familiarity in providing the treatments to Timmy, we can now authorize you to administer them in a new setting without any concerns. As you select a room for yourself, please feel free to explore and choose a room that you believe little Timmy will enjoy.
"Alright, thank ya kindly. I'll go on and make sure I'm feelin' right as rain so Timmy won't have a thing to fret about when he wakes up, and I'll find a lovely room for him, too." Wanda agreed readily, making even Nova raise his brows, before he smiled—not at all ashamed to take advantage of Wanda's scrambled personality.
"Nova, don't you—! Wanda, wait, hold up, we can't leave him alone with—!" She dashed out of the room to pull Wanda back inside, but the moment she was outside the room, the door slammed shut. She quickly pulled the door opened, glad it hadn't locked, but—she stared in disbelief; the bedroom she had just left was no longer the room the door opened up to.
The room behind the door had become a vibrantly colorful, whimsical room filled with oversized candy canes, gingerbread furniture with a bed shaped like a giant gumdrop surrounded by plush marshmallow pillows; the room was bathed in a sweet peppermint scent, and a banner hung from the ceiling denoting it as the 'Candy-land Examination Room.'
"Oh, ain't that just precious?" Wanda gushed excitedly, oblivious to the disaster that had just happened.
Timmy was left alone with a Fey, not just any Fey but with Nova, a kidnapper of over 200 children, a kidnapper who currently had his eyes on claiming Timmy as his next 'saved' child.
'I can't believe I let this happen…! Ugh…I really am a bimbo….Jorgen is going to be so disappointed in me…' She thought despairingly and looked apologetically over at Wanda who was wandering the hall gleefully reading the nameplates of each examination room. '…And Wanda, when she gets back to her normal self, she's going to kill me.'