Chapter 46: Shock to the senses
—Nova's Pov—
He sat beside the boy's bed, bathed in the golden hues of the late afternoon sun that filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room.
It was not long before the boy's final treatment of the day; of course, he had done as he had in the underwater café and had slowed time down to 1 second against 1 hour, so—while time outside the room counted down steadily towards the next time the painful Magical Filter Cycle had to be performed, inside this room, the boy was safe from it for a while longer as time moved at a snail's pace.
Slowing down time repeatedly throughout the day was admittedly exhausting, yet his magic replenished instantly each time he reversed a spell, leaving him far from drained. For spells that were irreversible, like sustaining the underwater café in pristine condition or the celebration he had just hosted for Wanda and Timmy, a good night's sleep was all he needed to be fully reinvigorated.
He chuckled, recalling Timmy's analogy of a Fey's magical restoration to an unlimited magic cheat code in a video game. The Fey possessed more magic as a race than they could ever utilize; now confined to their own realm, they employed it chiefly for entertainment, excessive indulgences, and leisure activities.
Looking back, the extremes to which they went during the Mana Wars to achieve dominance seem quite ludicrous considering the trivialities they were now employing that power for. It was an affront to the many sacrifices made to secure their overwhelming victory.
"At the very least, I can employ this abundance of magic to offer the child a modicum of solace. Do you not believe that utilizing this power to bring comfort to others would offer consolation to the children who perished in its pursuit?"
He spoke to Clara, who was curled up in the soft wicker basket, her injuries carefully medicated and bandaged. The gentle golden sunlight filtering through the window cast a warm glow on her tiny, injured form.
The solace provided to her differed from his intentions when he smuggled her into the Fey world. He had brought her here believing she'd be adopted as a Kinder and finally have a loving family that would cure her of her fears; he was truly dismayed she had become a Companion instead.
Whilst in the beginning that could be said for all of his saved children who had failed the Trial of the Forest, he had, over time, came to accept their fate; as they were flourishing as Companions and had adapted well to this world, taking to the forest as if they had been born there.
That was not true for Clara and a small percentage of others like her, whose new forms seemed to only stick them in a state of limbo. No longer in their painful circumstances, but still unable to move on from it.
For the most part, the children who failed the Trial of the Forest had done so due to their own shortcomings; ignoring the warnings, wandering off, sneaking just a small 'nibble'—but there were a few he believed who had deserved a second chance.
Clara had been so famished when she arrived that the Fey conducting her trial hadn't even had the opportunity to warn her that eating the fruit before reaching the village was forbidden. Ginny too was so starved that she hadn't been able to resist just one tiny nibble of such a large specimen of the apples she adored so much.
Then there were some cases where the child was just too overly sensitive to a particular enchantment; and while the fruits were enchanted to test a child's will, it was unfair if a sensitivity to the magic rendered a child hypnotized.
Of course, being so overeager that you ate the fruit before you could even be warned not to eat it, or was undisciplined enough to sneak a nibble right at the end of your trial was a reason enough in most of the villagers' eyes to make a child a Companion rather than a Kinder.
As for being overly sensitive to an enchantment; some Fey would say that meant that it was their world's way of asking for the child to become part of its forest. These were 'Prime Companions', given special collars and shelters in the Forests. These little ones might someday, if their forest willed it, be remade into Kinders.
Though normal companions like Clara and Ginny were forever confined to their new forms. It was fine in Ginny's case, as she had adapted beautifully to being an Appapuff and lived a joyous existence, but Clara….he did worry about that little one.
Oh well, what was done was done and who truly knew if she would have been happier as a Kinder? She was a very skittish and reluctant child. Perhaps the quiet solitude of the deeper parts of the forest truly was a better place for her.
He had given her some pain medication, which had left her eyelids heavy and her movements slow, but she still offered sweet company as she stared at him with big dewy eyes. If he weren't inside the Recovery room, he would have brought her a few plump snow berries to munch on. However, the rules of the contract forbade him from bringing any Fey Fruit or anything that contained it into the room, so instead he had offered her a thumbprint cookie, which she had nibbled on vigorously; the only thing left of it now was a few vanilla crumbs caught in her whiskers and a spot of strawberry jam in the corner of her mouth.
"Now, wasn't that a delightful treat? Here, to help you wash it down." He stroked her under the chin as he conjured a small glass baby bottle of honeyed milk, which he placed gently beside her in the basket. She curled up to it, hugging it close with her tiny paws, letting the warm milk warm her belly as she suckled the bottle.
He smiled, watching her, and once she finished her milk, gently suggested, "Maybe you can become one of Timmy's friends, too?" The tiny critter made a sharp chirp, her furry ears pressing back against her head.
"I am aware of your apprehension towards boys his age. However, I can guarantee you he is nothing like your step brothers were." He smiled and tenderly stroked her head, eliciting a slight hissing noise from her. "Oh, do not get so wound up, Clara. I do acknowledge that it is not my place to pressure you into anything you are not prepared for, but I do kindly request that you make an effort to familiarize yourself with him, if possible, my dear. You can't carry this fear forever, and interacting with a kind human boy like him may go a long way in helping you recover from this deeply ingrained fear you harbor."
Clara curled up tightly, her back facing him, and her head buried in her small paws, a shiver running up her tiny spine.
"Alright, you need more time, I understand, but I do hope you will not carry this fear forever." He gazed at her with pity; it was painful to know that even though her stepbrothers were long gone, the fear they had instilled in her remained as a lingering poison.
Yes, it was probably better she had become a Companion; they had more little boys in the village than little girls, and he had the inkling that even if she had become a Kinder, her fear of boys would have remained just as potent and she would have been miserable living in the village around so many. In the forest, she was kept safe from her biggest fear—well, mostly.
"I do wonder what startled you so much that you dashed through those thorns," he pondered. Clara's intense fear of boys had gotten her hurt before when a few Kinders had inadvertently triggered her panic.
Regrettably, Clara shared the same fur pattern as another Sprigglehop named Ginger, a playful creature fond of engaging in tag and fetch with boisterous Kinders. If a group of boys mistook her for Ginger and rushed toward her, mistaking her for their usual playmate, it would be enough to send her into a frenzied panic. He'd question the village boys later—as much as he hated when the Kinders behaved carelessly, he truly hoped that was the case this time, if not….then it meant there could be something in their forest that wasn't meant to be there…
Piper was out there now, checking the locations of the two traps near where Clara had gotten hurt; hopefully she would turn up clues and those clues would be nothing more incriminating than the footprints of a few careless Kinders who needed to be reminded of Clara and Ginger's similar appearance.
"I truly hope that was all it was," he whispered softly, covering Clara's now sleeping form with a tiny blanket. His heart yearned for her to dream of sweet, comforting things. With a warm smile gracing his face, he shifted his attention to Timmy; a child he was determined to see become a happy and well cared for Kinder—he'd make sure he'd give him the happy, peaceful life he wanted so much to give to Julia.
He had already been fond of the boy, but now, even more than before, he wanted to know more about him; get to know all about this child who was so much like Julia. That was why he had slowed time down again; so he had the opportunity to spend an abundance of quality time with Timmy. Who knew when another chance like this would arise? It could very well be his only opportunity, at least before Timmy was made into a Kinder.
Although Wanda might experience another Linking episode, there was no guarantee it would unfold in the same manner. This time, her sense of responsibility and caution had been swapped, making her careless and overly trusting. It was this combination that led her to not think twice about leaving Timmy alone in his care. This was not something Wanda would ever do in her normal state of mind.
As inconvenient as it was for him, he had to admit that exercising caution was wiser. Although he harbored no ill intentions towards the dear child, leaving a human child alone with a Fey was generally unwise. While Fey within Queen Mab's circle claimed children to love and protect them, those from other Circles were not always so benevolent.
For now, however, he would refrain from claiming Timmy. He didn't want to sow unnecessary discord and strife within his beloved family. Forcefully taking Timmy would only be considered if there was no hope of Wanda consenting to it. It would also be prudent to await Piper's approval, considering the boy's condition.
Furthermore, it would be ideal to wait until Timmy became an angel. Not only had he never seen one before, but angels were Kinders with unique traits and, most importantly, they lived for far longer than normal Kinders. For now, his sole intention in being alone with the boy was to get to know him better and understand the situation he was in. This way, he could offer the proper guidance and support.
The newfound knowledge that the poor child frequently suffered from anxiety and panic attacks weighed heavily on his heart. He wondered if Wanda knew about the 3-3-3 rule for managing these episodes?
Although she had a method to calm his panic by holding him, reassuring him, and helping him control his breathing, he wanted to confirm the extent of her knowledge when it came to handling such attacks. When Julia had started to take these, it had vexed him how sometimes something that had worked to sooth her several times before suddenly became entirely ineffective. Now, more learned and experienced, he knew that there was no consistent, 100% reliable method; you needed to know several if you wanted to always be able to provide help when the child needed it.
If he had understood psychology better during his time as Julia's godfather, perhaps the outcome would have been different. Julia might not have taken on that haunting expression as her default. That pitiful face; a mixture of pain, desperation, and hopelessness tinged with mania, the same face Timmy had worn during his panic attack.
It was not the face of a child; it was the face of a cornered and desperate animal, fully aware of its powerlessness in determining their fate and knowing that they were at the mercy of the ones who suffered them; a child who knew it had only one little life line it could cling to...a lifeline that could easily be taken away at any moment.
He had acknowledged earlier that Timmy and Julia shared similarities, but…even he had thought he was only forcing the resemblance because he wanted it to be there; but after having seen Timmy make that expression—well, it was simply astonishing! Even Tannfe had noticed enough to comment on the resemblance!
If he hadn't known that Timmy's soul was new, he might have believed him to be Julia's reincarnation. Even though they didn't share the same soul, their souls were undeniably similar.
He would not let them share a similar fate, no matter what.
Timmy would be saved.
"Permit me to create a personal memento as a tribute to my encounter with someone who shares a similar nature to Julia. I guarantee that I will regard this as one of my most cherished keepsakes."
He conjured up a music box; almost identical to the one he and Stella had made for Julia for her birthday. Stella still had the real music box in her home as a memento of the girl….but to his knowledge it hadn't been wound since that tragic day.
It was in the shape of a little cottage and made of a combination of dark polished wood and glass; the miniature home as intricately carved with delicate details, the wooden parts carved with patterns of vines and flowers, the glass tinted a soft, warm amber—to make the inside of the tiny palm size cottage look as if it had a warm, cozy fire lit within it.
Julia had often wished to shrink down and hide inside that music box when things got really bad….so the little room visible through the glass of that music box had no figures inside of it.
This music box had small figures, however; a little girl with messy strawberry blonde hair and an abundance of freckles, and little Timmy…in the adorable toddler form Wanda had put him in earlier. They sat on opposite ends of the small, cozy room. The Julia doll playing with a stuffed animal and Toddler Timmy with a little wooden spaceship.
He wound the box, and the soothing melody of Clare de Lune began to play, the mechanism causing the two tiny figures inside the cottage to slowly move closer together as if seeking comfort in one another's presence.
He put the music box down on the end table beside the boy; and gently he caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the chilling coldness that lingered, like a frosty whisper against his skin. The pallor of the boy's face was striking, a stark contrast to the vibrant hues of youth. With a tender touch, he laid his hand on the boy's arm, startled by the fragility that greeted his fingertips. It was heartbreaking to witness such frailty in a child, especially one whose tales of adventure and laughter had been shared with such enthusiasm. Timmy's ghostly complexion, a visible manifestation of his condition, was accompanied by the undeniable signs of malnutrition – the hauntingly undernourished frame and the stunted growth that belied his age. He fervently hoped that the feast he had prepared earlier had offered some solace, providing Timmy with the much-needed sustenance his delicate body yearned for.
'Though with what I learned of his mother's cooking, it is no wonder that he's so small.' Once his daughter-in-law was back to her senses; he'd have to ask her what was going on in that household.
'Or….I could always check for myself.' He smiled and patted the child's head; Every Fey had one or two unique abilities; his specialty was peeping into someone's memories; either viewing them or living through them. The only condition he had to meet to use this power was to have the person willingly open the door of their mind to him through a simple visualization trick; where they imagined a door, personal to them, and opened it…
And the boy had done exactly this when he and Wanda had to look into his memories to find out what had caused his soul damage. His daughter-in-law had not thought twice about it, too focused on finding out the reason for his Stigmata to ask many questions and then afterwards likely coming to the erroneous conclusion that permission had to be granted each time for him to peer into his memories and that Timmy wouldn't open the door to his mind without a good reason.
Alas, neither of them had asked, and he had not told them that to close the door to his mind, Timmy would have to envision the same door he had imagined when he had asked him to grant him access and he would need to visualize closing that door. Without having done so, the door was wide open to him. All he had to do whenever he wanted a look was simply touch the boy's head.
With time slowed down, so that every second outside the room gave him an hour within, he had plenty of time to learn all about the life of little Timmy Turner.
— Wanda's POV—
"Wanda, we can't keep messing around! We need to—"
"Well, we still got time 'fore Timmy needs his treatment; and I'm fixin' to find him the sweetest little treatment room! The one I've been usin' so far is just so cold and plain. Bless his heart! With that kind of atmosphere, it's no wonder all he can think about is the pain!" She brushed off the Tooth fairy's growing agitation; she had never realized how absolutely boring she was!
"Wanda, we have to have enough time to squeeze YOUR treatment in first." The other woman changed the hand that was holding her parcels for the fifteenth time; if it was so heavy there was no need to really drag it around everywhere, was there? What was in it, anyway? Well, knowing the Tooth Fairy, she was probably carrying around a bunch of teeth or something.
"I don't need no treatment! I'm feelin' just fine and dandy now!" She tapped her chest. "See? Ain't no more water comin' up!"
"I'm not talking about that—! I'm talking about-!"
"Oh, gosh!" Her eyes sparkled as she opened up her 22nd door. "Well, isn't this somethin'?"
"You say that about all of them!" Tannfe huffed, red in the face.
"Aw, but they're all just so amazin'!" She gushed, cheerfully.
There had been a room that looked as if it were under the sea; the walls a shimmering blue with projections of colorful fish, coral reefs and gentle sea creatures swimming around. The floor was covered in sand that felt gently warmed by the sun and the ceiling was a dome with a display of a moving image of the ocean's surface from below, complete with the play of sunlight through the water.
Another room had looked like one was living in the clouds; the walls a soft blue with white fluffy clouds drifting slowly across them, all in such shapes that one could imagine a hundred images hidden inside each puffy mass. The floor was a pillowy material, and the furniture was all shaped like puffs of cumulus clouds, with a beautiful ceiling painted in shades of pink, purple and gold to look like a sunset.
Yet another room was designed like the interior of a grand castle, complete with tall, arched windows that looked out at various scenes that belonged to popular children fairytales; from the big bad wolf blowing down the little pig's house to the wood cutter saving little red riding hood and her grandma. Each look out the windows showed a new classic fairytale scene.
This new room, however, just stole away her breath and she wandered into it, fascinated whilst feeling a strange pull she couldn't describe.
It was a Gothically romantic room; perfect for children going through that macabre phase many went through, where vampires became idolized and everything dark, creepy and morbid, suddenly gained an irresistible allure.
The room looked like a cross between a church and a library. Arched windows with intricate stained glass depicted scenes from Dracula, and werewolves, and pentagrams and other such symbols these kids took too, thinking them cool but knowing little else about their actual meanings then what they had seen in a few trashy Hollywood films or pulp fiction novels.
Reddish light shone through the windows as if being cast by a blood-red moon, causing the stained glass to light colorful patterns on the polished floor, creating a truly otherworldly atmosphere which would have left those gothic kids completely agog.
The walls lined with towering bookshelves made of dark, carved wood, were all filled with ancient tomes and spell books bound in rich leather, their spines adorned with gold and silver filigree. They were all so ridiculously elaborate, like the props you'd find in a movie about witches and sorcerers, that just by looking at them, she knew that they were all fakes. Even as she took one ornate book down to flip through it, she wasn't at all surprised to find ridiculous little rhymes pretending to be spells than any actual spells.
"Flippity Flop, Topsy Turvy,
Make My Snacks a Little Swirly!
Zippity Zap, Ziggity Zee,
Fill the Room with Joy and Glee!" She read, chuckling. "Aw, that's just downright adorable."
"Wanda, we need to stop goofing around! Timmy is alone with Nova. Don't you realize how dangerous that is?" Tannfe was almost begging her now.
"Now don't you fret none; they've already made it clear they ain't gonna try to make Timmy a Kinder 'til his treatment's all done. You see—" She puffed out her chest pridefully. "Well, 'cause our bond's so strong—Timmy's gonna become an angel! I mean, he's already MY angel, but I'm ramblin'. He'll be just fine! No need to be gettin' all worked about, 'bout it. Nova won't be tryin' to do nothin' yet."
"Wanda, get a grip!" Tannfe caught her by her shoulders and shook her. "Did you forget who Nova was? The head of a trafficking ring! And let me tell you something—despite what he might have told you, it was only a small number of those kids who had their tokens given to Nova by their godparents. HE actively sought out the kids he felt needed saving—HE convinced them to let themselves be taken—HE talked most of those kids into giving him the items that the Fey needed to claim them! He KNOWS exactly how to make a child feel as if this—this—this.." She seemed to search for a word to describe what she felt about Fey world but in the end, simply used; "This place was their salvation! If you leave him alone with Timmy, especially in his current emotional state, he'll have him begging you to remain here! He'll convince him that this place is the only place where he can be happy! If you're not careful, when the time comes for you to leave here, Timmy won't go back with you!"
Gazing into Tannfe's earnest expression, she was engulfed by a tumult of feelings. Oddly enough, panic was missing from the emotional cocktail; instead, a bold assurance bordering on arrogance surged forth. She offered her worried companion a smile that danced on the brink of condescension. The notion of worrying over Nova, convincing Timmy to remain in Fey world, without her, was absurd.
"Timmy loves me too much to ever be swayed to leave me."
"Wanda!" Tannfe stomped her foot, her expression turning angry, though she did not understand the reason over her ire.
"It's the truth." She insisted, wondering if perhaps the Tooth Fairy simply thought she was being overconfident. Of course, the Tooth Fairy might have been an idol amongst fairies, but children only loved the coins she left beneath their pillows, so she did not know how strongly a child could love.
"Y'all just don't quite understand; but Timmy and I share a mighty special bond. You see…ever since all that bullyin' started, I've been the only one who's been able to make him feel loved and safe—he's been as attached to me as a freshly hatched baby chick. He simply can't do without me."
She smiled in fondness as she thought about how he clung to her these days.
Her touch, whether a simple comforting hand on his shoulder or a gentle stroke through his hair, seemed to ignite a sense of security within him. Her words, soft and soothing, wrapped around him like a warm embrace. Each interaction, no matter how small, seemed to weave a thread of reassurance into Timmy's fragile world. She couldn't help but notice how his eyes would light up at her mere presence, looking at her as someone far more than just a god mother…
It was almost as if he drew strength from her very essence, finding solace in every word and gesture. She marveled at how his dependence on her seemed to grow with each passing day. There was a sweetness in his need, a tenderness that tugged at her heartstrings. She relished in it, finding a quiet satisfaction in being the cornerstone of his comfort. It was a delicate balance, his vulnerability drawing her closer while she remained ever so aware of how crucial her presence was to him.
In a way, it was as if he was a part of her, and she of him. The bond they shared was undeniably profound. She could almost physically sense the weight of his reliance on her. It was both humbling and exhilarating, knowing that he turned to her for guidance and support in every aspect of his life. She felt a sense of purpose, knowing that she held the power to change his life; he was like a little piece of neglected putty that no one had thought could be anything more than a shapeless lump, but that she alone could shape into something beautiful.
Even when discipline was necessary, he no longer fussed or complained as he would have at ten. Instead, he obediently obeyed with a sheepish little smile. Even she had to marvel at his unwavering acceptance of any decision she made for him.
It was a testament to the unbreakable bond they shared.
Having him as her godson brought her a profound sense of fulfillment, and his unwavering trust in her made her feel capable of anything. She couldn't help but smile, knowing that their connection was a rare and precious gift, one that she cherished with all her heart.
"Timmy…when he loves someone, he loves 'em with his whole heart, and right now I'm proud to be right at the center of it. It's such a wonderful feelin' to have your godchild look at you not just as a godmother but as a real mother. No, I'm more than even a mother to that little darlin'; I'm his savi—"
"Ok, I've had it." Tannfe grabbed her forcefully by the arm and dragged her across to the center of the room where there was a grand circular reading nook, scattered across it were large, overstuffed armchairs and couches in deep shades of burgundy and midnight blue. Each seat big enough to comfortably perform the filter cycle in was accompanied by a small table holding a flickering candle inside a glass lantern, giving the room a warm, cozy glow despite its dark tones.
This room was so familiar to her—but from where…? Maybe it would be easier to think if she wasn't having her arm nearly yanked off.
"Ow!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing in the room as she was thrown onto the plush couch. Even though the impact didn't actually hurt, her reflexes made her utter the exclamation. "Why'd you go and do that for?" She questioned, her voice laced with confusion.
"I'm trying to bring back the real you before you say something you'll regret," Tannfe responded firmly, her voice and face expressing disgust she did not understand. She watched her reach into the parcel she had been carrying, pulling out a jumble of various objects and placing them haphazardly on the nearby reading tables.
Perplexed, she furrowed her brows, observing the odd assortment of items being scattered around them. "Why, whatever are you talkin' 'bout?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I ain't actin' any different from how I usually do."
"I may not know you well, but I do know enough to understand that your true self is caring and protective of Timmy," Tannfe explained sternly. "Right now, though, you're only focused on your own satisfaction and pride, instead of his well-being."
"What are you tryin' to say?" She balled up her fists defensively.
"I'm saying that you're using his affection to validate yourself."
"How dare you!" The intensity of her offense was like nothing she had ever experienced before, coursing through her entire being. "I LOVE Timmy."
"Well, right now it sounds like what you love most is his dependence on you."
Too furious to form words she just screamed and pointed her wand at the Tooth Fairy, ready to blast her, but before she could get the shot out, Tannfe had used her own wand to tie her hands and feet together with dental floss, making her wand fall from her hands and trapping her. She struggled to break the bonds, but couldn't free herself despite her furious attempts to do so.
"Y'all just wait 'til my Cosie gets back to his study, an' you'll see—!" She spat resentfully. "He'll have ya usin' all them teeth ya collect to make yerself some dentures after he's done with ya! Ain't nobody insults me on his watch and gets away with it, no sir! When he sees how ya treated me, he's gonna be angrier than a bull in a briar patch!"
"…." Tannfe stared at her, blinking, for moment she did not know why her threat had garnered confusion rather than fear or anger and then a wave of dizziness hit her and her own confusion settled in.
Her husband's study? Cosmo had no study…right? and….she never called him Cosie—did she? Also…that wasn't the way she spoke….or was it?
"I knew it." Tannfe looked a mixture of smug and relieved. "Your more Anti-Wanda right now than the regular Wanda—no wonder you're being so self-centered; Wanda always puts her godchild's feelings above her own, but as her opposite, your feelings come first, don't they?"
"I…" She furrowed her brows; her thoughts were suddenly too muddled to even feel anger or offense, just a confusing sense of wrongness within herself that she couldn't place. She could feel the stirrings of a terrible headache starting.
"I'm getting you back to normal." Tannfe held a chocolate fondue set in one hand and a jar of pickled vegetables in the other; curiously, the sight of both was simultaneously appealing and repelling.
"W-what are you planning on doing with those?" She asked nervously as the Tooth fairy loomed over her with a nasty smile on her face.
"Oh, you'll see. Trust me, you will see."
—Timmy POV—
Timmy slowly opened his heavy eyelids, feeling groggy. As the increasingly familiar sight of the recovery room came into focus, a sense of comfort washed over him; he did not know when it started, but he had begun to associate this place with safety; perhaps because whenever he woke up here, he knew he had a long time before his next painful treatment.
As he slowly gained awareness of his surroundings, he realized he was cradled in someone's arms, but it wasn't Wanda's familiar embrace. A hand was petting the back of his head, making him feel a little like a coddled puppy. He shifted his gaze upward and saw Nova peacefully slumbering next to him on the bed.
Still disoriented, he struggled to piece together his fragmented memories, questioning why Nova would be there. Then it struck him, a sudden rush of embarrassment flooding his cheeks as the memories flooded back in a torrent.
He had taken a panic attack right in front of Nova, and to make matters worse, the Tooth Fairy had witnessed it too. The mere thought of her disclosing this to Jorgen sent waves of anxiety coursing through him. Would Wanda and Cosmo face consequences over how badly his mental state had deteriorated? Would gossip about his panic attacks and anxiety spread throughout Fairy World? What if the fairies started to treat him differently? Would they begin to give him "The Look"?
He hated that look—it came in three awful variations. It was everywhere: from his parents, teachers, schoolmates, neighbors, even strangers. Everyone who knew about his attacks gave him that look. Sometimes it was scornful and annoyed, convinced he merely seeking attention. His parents, along with many others, wore that expression, believing he was faking it.
Ironically, Vicky, his tormentor, was one of the few who acknowledged the legitimacy of his attacks. However, she found his attacks hilarious to watch, and she would cruelly record his attacks, sharing them on social media. The next time she came over to babysit, she would force him to kneel as her footrest whilst reading him the comment section.
Certainly, some acknowledged the truth of his condition, but their stares bore a distinct cruelty. Whether mocking, belittling, amused, or merely curious, it was as if they were looking at him as something far lesser than themselves; like he was some kind of defective creature not worthy to be in their presence.
And finally, there were individuals like Mr. Dinkleberg, whose sympathetic, pitying looks were just as bad as the abuse. Their gentle tones and careful demeanor only served to make him feel fragile; like a broken object in need of delicate handling. He knew that Mr. Dinkleberg and others like him had good intentions, but their behavior only deepened his sense of isolation, reminding him that he was somehow less than normal, unworthy of true understanding.
Dealing with everyone's reaction to his ADHD had been challenging enough, but the constant bullying had caused him to start experiencing both panic and anxiety attacks; which caused the bullying to get even worse. These days…he just really disliked being around other people.
Fairy world had provided a refuge; he could walk the streets, go to shops and restaurants and even speak to people without worrying about getting 'that look' from them or getting taunted. It had been a place where he could go to escape judgment and feel accepted but….if rumor went around about his panic/anxiety attacks, would that change? Would being around people in Fairy world become just as uncomfortable as being around them on Earth?
He took a few deep breaths, as Wanda had taught him to do, whenever he felt anxious. His heartbeat, which had been pounding in his ears, began to gradually slow down as he focused on his breathing.
'Ok…calm down. Even if that does happen….you still have Wanda. As long as you have her in your corner, you're OK,' He reassured himself.
She knew about all his problems—she even knew about the thing awful thing he had done—-the thing she swore she'd keep between the two of them, and she still did not give him that look those who disbelieved, ridiculed or pitied him gave him.
Wanda alone looked at him as 'a person who had problems' and not 'A person who was a problem.' She made him feel like he was worth trying to help, and not like a burden to be endured.
Poof would probably be just like Wanda; at least he hoped he would, but….for as long as he could, he wanted to seem like a 'cool big bro', and had so far managed to conceal his attacks, at least the obvious ones, from Poof. It was thanks to Wanda, really. She had a knack for telling when he might take one and was quick to poof him away to a private place.
Sadly, Cosmo wasn't like Wanda. When his godfather looked at him, it was through eyes that combined all three variations of 'the look'.
Sometimes he'd accuse him of exaggerating things to get Wanda's attention. Other times he'd tell him that 'you should just go back to being how you used to be,' or that he should 'just calm down, your over reacting, who cares what a bunch of people you don't like and who don't like you say?', and when he wasn't accusing him of seeking attention or oversimplifying his problems; he was looking at him with an awful combination of pity and disappointment.
He loved Cosmo; sure, it had become different from the love he had for Wanda; to him Wanda had become far more then just a godmother or even a mother—but that did not mean that Cosmo wasn't important too; he loved him and regarded him as his 'real' family—the family who loved him, the family who was always there for him…his fairy-family, Wanda, Cosmo and Poof, the ones he could always count on and believe in….and the ones he had felt would always understand him.
….Or at least he had thought so. Cosmo's lack of understanding acceptance cut far deeper than even that of his own biological parents, because he was frankly used to being let down by them.
He had always believed that even if Cosmo couldn't understand his problems that, he'd at least be supportive….but perhaps he was being selfish.
Of course he was. That was one his most defining character traits, wasn't he? He was self centered, a selfish boy who only thought of his own wants or needs.
He knew how troubling and hard to deal with all his problems were; and he was pushing all of this unpleasantness onto his poor godparents; it must be so draining to endure day after day after day…
He was sure that even Wanda deep down must've felt stressed by it all…and it was no secret she and Cosmo were getting into more and more arguments lately because of him…..
He really was nothing but trouble.
Nova stirred beside him, his eyes opening and without a moment's confusion he smiled down at him, warm and welcoming with no trace of 'the look' in his eyes….at least for now.
"It is pleasing to observe that you are now looking more refreshed than you were previously. It is of utmost importance to maintain your strength during this delicate phase of your treatment." Nova gave his head an affectionate pat and sat up, stretching.
"Where's Wanda….?" He asked timidly; his god mother….he had taken his panic attack because she had almost drowned….and he was indirectly responsible for it.
"There's no need to worry. She is simply undergoing treatment for her Linking." Nova winked at him playfully. "I am capitalizing on this rare chance to have some exclusive quality time together with you, thanks to her scattered mindset. I have manipulated the flow of time just as I did in the café, which will allow us ample opportunity to establish a strong rapport."
"Y-you still….want to?" He asked hesitantly, lowering his gaze as his face flushed. "I…I mean…you saw that embarrassing panic attack…..that was the last straw for Sanjay and Elmer….I mean, out of all my friends they stuck around me the longest, but…I kept taking anxiety attacks at school…and they'd get laughed at along with me when they tried to help and then….they said they were sorry but….couldn't handle it anymore…it was too much for them and…."
"Oh, sweet child!" Nova's voice was laced with pity, but the look in his eyes wasn't the same pitying look that those like Mr. Dinkleburg got—like he was someone that could only be pitied—a loss cause. No, Nova's eyes were had warmth, compassion, genuine sorrow and a desire to help mixed in with the pity.
"Do not let yourself become distressed. I have dedicated thousands of years to the study of psychology specifically to aid individuals like yourself! The occurrence of panic or anxiety attacks does not diminish my perception of you. You are a loveable child deserving of far more love than you are currently receiving." Nova pulled him into a hug, holding him close. "I know things are hard, but never give up, because you're the only you in the world, and you make it special just by being in it."
He felt tears sting his eyes, even though what he had been told had been kind, but it happened before, though he did not understand why it happened—why every kind word, every act of kindness, seemed to unravel him. It was as if the weight of all the unspoken pain and fear inside him found release in those small moments of tenderness, moments that made him realize how deeply he longed for understanding, for someone to see him, for who he truly was without judgment.
Until now, Wanda had been the only one….
Nova held him a little tighter, sensing the his emotional turmoil. "It's okay to cry," he whispered softly, his voice carrying a gentle reassurance. "The shedding of tears is not a sign of frailty, but rather a mechanism for purifying the soul; if tears are held in too long, they can become a poison, so let them out when you need to, without finding shame in them."
He sniffled, burying his face into Nova's chest. "It feels like... like everything's just too much sometimes," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And when people see me like this... they think I'm broken, or... or that I'm just doing it for attention. Even Cosmo doesn't really get it, and that... that hurts so much."
"I know it does," Nova replied, his hand gently rubbing his back. "But let me assure you Timmy, that you are not broken. Many years ago, I came to understand that individuals who are truly broken have no more use for tears."
Hearing a hint of pain in Nova's voice, he looked at his face but only a gentle smile looked down on him, and his eyes looked….proud? "I've seen your dreams, little one, and I know that despite everything; you are doing your very best each and every day. You exemplify a remarkable combination of kindness, bravery, and resilience, persisting in your fight even when the world appears to be against you. I am proud to call you my god grandson."
There was something in the way Nova spoke, a sincerity and warmth that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he really was a person deserving of love and understanding…..someone who wasn't just a burden to those around him.
Wanda loved him so much and made him feel happy and safe, but her reassurances that he was a good person worth loving often did not reach his heart because….Jorgen had showed him the world where she and Cosmo would be happier if he hadn't been born; a secret he still kept from her out of a deep-rooted fear that maybe if she ever found out how wonderful her life would be without him, and that he had wished himself back anyway, that she could resent him….but Nova wasn't someone whose life he had messed up.
"And remember," Nova continued, his voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves, "You're not alone. You have Wanda, and now you have me too. You don't have to carry the burden by yourself; we're both here for you."
He smiled and nodded his head, whilst Nova gently used a handkerchief to wipe away his tears. "Thanks…grandpa…."
"I am here to provide a listening ear for any and every conversation you wish to have. Do you remember the instructions presented in the video you viewed?" Nova gently knocked his hand on the end table. "Simply tap on a wooden surface thrice using your left hand. You will be instantly transported to my therapy room, where we can engage in an extended discussion about any subject you desire, or we can just enjoy spending some quality time together."
"That sounds nice, but Wanda…."
"Be at ease, as there is no reason to fear Wanda finding out about this. Considering our capability to manipulate time, we just need to wait for a moment when she is occupied. After all, a five-minute bathroom break would give us three hundred hours of time together if I slowed time down as I am now."
He smiled; he did hate to go behind Wanda's back but—he really liked Nova, and he really wanted to get to know him better.
Maybe it was due to the absence of his father and grandfathers in his life, and the recent strain in his relationship with Cosmo, but he yearned for a male role model. Although Wanda was perfect and he loved her deeply, there were certain things that only another man could truly comprehend. He longed for that connection, and surprisingly, Nova was willing to step into that role–a role that every other man in his life had refused. Nova's smile grew wider, almost as if he could read his thoughts. "You are a young man whose father neglected his responsibilities, and I am a father who knows the pain of being separated from his sons. Let's explore the connections we both crave within each other."
He nodded his head, agreeing to something he knew Wanda would have been adamant against and a part of him knew it was foolish; he had been warned about the Fey and he knew all about Nova's history but…his heart told him that Nova was someone he could have fate in.
— Piper's POV—
"Well, well….this is where it happened…." She picked up a torn tuff of fur that was snagged on some thorns around a particularly dangerous trap. It was a good thing that the little Sprigglehop hadn't triggered it.
Nova would never have gotten over it if a first generation Companion, and one of his saved children, got itself killed by getting ensnared in a trap. That was why she took care to place these thorns as a deterrent; outsiders couldn't see them, but those of their village could; and yet Clara had run right through them…
She looked around the scene, frowning, some large glowing mushrooms growing at the base of the tree had been squashed.
"That's weird." She picked up the mushroom pieces; these were normally made tough enough so that the Kinders could use them as stools. Heck, these mushrooms had even supported Jorgen's weight! She looked around for footprints and quirked her brows.
There were prints, but it did not look like anything that had come from a foot, a paw or a hoof. The indentations were complex, with multiple tendrils branching out from the central footprint, each one leaving behind a winding, vine-like pattern. The impressions had left small, delicate cracks spreading outward, as though the weight of its steps was too much for the earth to bear, causing the ground to fracture slightly under the pressure.
"What, is a tree walking around or something? Who knows, maybe some Fey got drunk and made a tree sentient to have a laugh."
It would have been pretty funny if that was the case, except a Companion had gotten hurt because of it; so if that was what had happened, someone was getting castigated. Their village could be pretty harsh when someone broke the rules; and if one of his beloved little Companions got hurt, Nova was the most merciless of all.
She ventured deeper, off the beaten trial; going into the denser parts of the forest as she followed the strange footsteps. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. She noticed that things were strangely quiet; normally the forest was alive with the constant noise of Companions or animals; at this time of day they were usually scampering around to fill their stomachs on fruits for dinner.
As she walked, the ground felt soft and slightly moist beneath her feet, causing the occasional squelch; the further she walked, the more she saw damages to some trees and mushrooms; and more of those strange prints.
"…Ow!" She winced as her braids became snagged on something; and she looked up to see what she could have caught them on and froze, her mouth dropping in shock.
It was branches that had snagged her hair, but they weren't the branches of a tree…
Clinging to the trunk of a tree that was practically bending under it's weight was a—thing—about the height of a child, but that was where any semblance of normality ended. It had a long, wide, oval body that was shapeless, making it impossible to identify any gender; the body was a patchwork of moss and wood that grew various small mushrooms and berries; where there should have been arms and legs, there were elongated, root-like limbs, tangled and twisted, as if it had been pulled directly from the earth itself.
It's head was easily triple the size of it's body and swayed back and forth from a long and skinny, tube like neck that in no way should have been able to support such a large, potato shaped head. A crown of gemstone horns sprouted from its head, many cracked and damaged, adding to its eerie, fractured appearance. Its hair was a wild tangle of vines and flowers, some of which were still blooming, while others had wilted, creating a strange, ever-changing halo around its head.
The eyes managed to be the most disturbing; each one 1/4 the size of it's face, with iris so small that they looked like pinpricks. The thing stared at her with those eyes and then, with a smile that stretched from one end of it's wide face to the other, opened its mouth to reveal a grotesque abyss lined with teeth that spiraled inward in 14 tight, concentric rows. Each row bristled with jagged, needle-like teeth, interlocking perfectly to form a nightmarish tunnel of sharp points.
It had been reaching into an Appapuff nest when it had spotted her; three whimpering Appapuffs were still being squeezed in its tight fist having been pulled from the comfortable hollow of their tree. It stared down at her, and then releasing it's grip on her hair raised it's hand up and began waving down at her, and then spoke in the cheerful, lively voice of a perfectly normal six year old girl.
"Hiiii! My name is Lilithree! I love to play with cute, fuzzy things!"
"….." For the first time in many centuries, she was rendered speechless.
—Tannfe (Tooth Fairy) POV—
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
"You really aren't making this easy for me, are you?" She sighed heavily, slumping onto one of the plush cushions, utterly spent. Wanda was throwing a full-blown tantrum, her voice a piercing wail as she tried to drown out the cacophony of EDM and Country music blaring from every corner.
"Why are you speakin' like you're the one sufferin' here!?" Wanda's voice was a mix of frustration and desperation as she twisted and squirmed against the dental floss binding her.
"Because I am the one suffering," She retorted, her patience wearing thin.
"You literally have me hog-tied!" Wanda's eyes were wild with frustration. "And my head is splittin' over here! I don't even know what music I love and which one I haaaatttee!"
"Stop crying and just hurry and separate from each other already!" She snapped, reaching for the bottles of perfume she had brought—Wanda's 'Wing it' and Anti-Wanda's 'Wild Country.' She sprayed the contents into the air, filling the room with a discordant blend of floral vanilla and heavy, peppery bourbon. The two scents clashed violently, a sensory assault that made the room feel thick and oppressive.
She pinched her nose as Wanda began to gag and cough, the perfume's aggressive mixture clearly taking its toll.
"What are you trying to do, fumigate me?" Wanda's voice had lost its accent, a small sign of progress amid the chaos.
"If that is what it will take to have you stop Linking!" She shot back, her frustration barely contained. She conjured a miniature rain cloud with a flash of lightning and a small sun, and positioned them over her head, hoping to address both Wanda's and Anti-Wanda's preferences. But instead of calming Wanda, the combination seemed to aggravate her further, and she shot her a look of pure annoyance.
"…You are a sadist, you know that?" Wanda huffed as the miniature cloud soaked her, whilst the tiny sun dried her.
"I am not!" She defended, her voice rising. She sat down next to Wanda, who was still tied up, and began rummaging through her supplies. "Now, let me force-feed you a few more chocolate-covered pickled vegetables…"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
"Oh, stop that!" She snapped, grabbing some of the chocolate-covered veggies and shoving them into Wanda's mouth, clamping her hand over it to keep her from spitting it out. "Look, it's for your own good! By shocking your senses with the things both you and your counterpart love/hate, we can separate you. Please, just hang in there a little longer, ok? Now—since Anti-Wanda likes soft, squishy things—" She picked up a giant marshmallow, squishing it between her toes experimentally.
Wanda's reaction was immediate. She writhed and shrieked, her protests growing more frantic. "Stop! Just stoooop! What are you even doing!?"
"I once heard that you can feel sensations strongest at the bottom of your feet…so I'd thought it would be a good way for you to feel just how soft and squishy it is."
"Look, I don't know what kind of weird stuff Jorgen is into, but leave me out it—-!"
"—And since Anti-Wanda likes soft, squishy things, then the normal Wanda must like hard, firm stuff—" She picked up a wax banana, holding it up with a baffled expression; still not understanding why Cosmo and given her this. Wanda's face turned a strange mixture of white and red, her eyes narrowing in a scathing glare.
"What?" She questioned, her confusion growing.
"Really…?" Wanda stared pointedly at the object in her hand.
"Well, when I told Cosmo that since your Anti-self likes soft, squishy things, you must like hard, firm things—he handed me this."
"I'm killing him." There was zero hesitation in Wanda's proclamation.
"I don't really get it…" She admitted, still puzzled.
"…..You're as pure as the driven snow," Wanda said flatly. "Let me not sully your mind with an explanation."
"…I guess I should put this in your mouth or something…?"
"You do, and I bite off your fingers," Wanda threatened, her irritation palpable. "Really! Just untie me and let me go to Timmy! His treatment is soon and I need to comfort him! You have no idea how scared he gets right before it! I need to be there for him!"
"And he needs you—the REAL you," She insisted, standing her ground with the wax banana still in hand, trying to ignore the absurdity of the situation.
"…Snort…Ok, ok….stop….just stop…this is just getting to be too weird; I mean…I don't even know what I'm walking in on here…" Piper's voice, filled with amusement, came from behind her. She turned to see Piper standing there with a bemused grin. She, who had been ready to ask for assistance with some more bizarre tactics, froze in place. Seconds later, she screamed and jumped behind the chair.
"WHAT IS THAT?"
"Well, she says her name is Lilithree," Piper said, gesturing to a creature beside her that could only be described as a grotesque amalgamation.
"HIII!" A little girl's voice emerged from the monster, her tone surprisingly cheerful and…normal. "Your sparkly!"
"Don't be scared, though I don't blame ya for getting surprised; but she's what we call a Kinderkin—you see, in some Rings, Kinders are allowed to get older and—have kids with each other and….well…sometimes the….results can get weird."
"Weird—? More like terrifying!"
"Nnnngh…" Lilithree made a sobbing noise, and ants began to pour from her eyes instead of tears. "You think I'm ugly?"
"Uh…n-nooo…no, not at all! I-Isn't that right, Wanda, she's a…a really pretty girl, right? …Wanda?" She looked down at Wanda, who had fainted, her eyes rolled back in her head.
"Of course she doesn't think you're ugly." Piper reassured, thinly hiding the laughter in her voice. "She's the Tooth Fairy you see, and by terrifying she was talking about all the money she'll have to leave for all those teeth you have—how about you go over there and let her count them?"
"Oh! Ok!" Lilithree scampered over to her, opening her enormous mouth to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth.
She stood there, trembling as she faced the child with the grotesque dental display. 'Fey World officially sucks…' she thought, her nerves frayed by the absurdity of it all.
— Anti-Wanda's POV —
"Aaah!" Anti-Wanda shot upright, her heart pounding as her eyes darted around the room. She was in her husband's study, the familiar surroundings washing over her like a lifeline.
"Crumpet?"
"Mother!?"
A wave of relief crashed over her as she saw her husband and son's faces, their concerned eyes and familiar expressions grounding her in reality. She hurled herself into their arms, clinging to them with an almost desperate need. The embrace was warm and solid, a stark contrast to the chaos she had just escaped. She was finally back in her own body, free from the terrifying onslaught of her counterparts' thoughts, feelings, and memories. The nightmarish experiences of being tortured with chocolates, country music, flowers, and—of all things—a banana were finally behind her.
"What happened to you, dearest? You look positively rattled!"
"Aw, Cosie, it was just awful!" Her voice trembled as she spoke. "The Tooth Fairy had me all tangled up in some sort of twisted S thing, and then a dang monster came barging in, tryin' to gobble me up!" She buried her face against her husband's shoulder, her words muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
Her husband blinked, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "I…? What…?" He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "No, never mind; the important thing is that you're finally back with us."
"Mother, your counterpart didn't leave any of her goody-goody self rattling around in your head, did she?" Foop's tone was cautious but filled with genuine worry.
"Nooo…I don't reckon so?" She sifted through her thoughts, the panic subsiding as she found only her own memories and emotions. Everything seemed to be in place, nothing felt out of the ordinary.
"Just relax; you've been through a terrible ordeal." Anti-Cosmo waved his wand, summoning a soft blanket that wrapped snugly around her shoulders and a steaming cup of tea that appeared in her hands. The tea's warmth seeped through the delicate porcelain, its calming aroma mingling with the comforting freshly washed scent of the blanket. It was almost like they each contained just a bit of her husband's love inside each of them. "Take your time and tell us everything once you feel ready."
"I will." She promised, her voice barely above a whisper. She snuggled closer to her husband as he wrapped his arm around her, the feeling of his embrace anchoring her in safety and love. Foop, not normally one for cuddles, laid his head down on her lap, placing his tiny hand on her arm. The warmth and security were a balm to her weary soul, and her eyes grew heavy with exhaustion.
As she drifted off, enveloped in the cocoon of her family's care, a stray thought slipped through the edges of her consciousness—a flicker of concern that didn't quite belong to her but still tugged at her heart.
'I do hope that little Turner boy is gonna be okay….'