Broken Child

by Metala Kahame

After a tragic accident befalls Timmy when left in Cosmo's care, he starts to doubt his abilities as a god father. As Timmy's condition worsens he resolves to do all he can to make his godchild better. Meanwhile Wanda's growing attachment to Timmy is starting to raise some suspicions that she has forgotten the number one rule of godparenting; don't get too attached!

51. Chapter 51 Useful

Chapter 51: Useful

— Timmy's POV—

"Your feeling better now, right sweetie, no more worries?" Wanda spoke to him lovingly over the screen, her hand pressed against the glass, as if trying to reach out and touch him. "You just take good care of yourself now, and think of some fun stuff we can do together after your treatment; anything you'd like. Never forget, I love you, ok? You never need to worry yourself about that. I miss you, and I have a great big hug waiting for you when I see you."

He felt incredibly light, as if he were floating as all the anxiety that had been slowly building up in him began draining out. Grandpa Nova had repeatedly told him he was overthinking things, that he shouldn't worry so much. He assured him that Wanda wouldn't be so upset as to ignore his messages. Yet, he couldn't dispel the nagging thoughts from his mind—that he was burdening Wanda, overwhelming her, pulling her away from her family, making her undergo Linking. He began to fear that she might see him as one big problem, and realizing it had been only 24 hours—yet she had suffered so much because of him—might just be the last straw for her patience with him.

"There now, aren't you feeling more at ease?" Nova smiled indulgently as he poofed away the recording devices and refilled his cup of warm milk and cinnamon. He had finished his breakfast of the omelette, avocado, toast, and yogurt. After every meal, aside from the bedtime snack, Nova provided 'suitable' palette cleansers, as he called them, and he would turn on some classical music and chitchat with him for a while before taking him to the meditation garden.

During these chitchats they talked about anything and everything; sometimes silly, mundane things, and sometimes the heavy stuff. He was supposed to get everything on his mind, off of it, so that he could 'empty his thoughts' in order to meditate properly.

He was uncertain if he would ever master meditation, yet discussing his thoughts freely without the fear of being a nuisance was comforting. Wanda was always an attentive listener, but the concern of overburdening her lingered. Whenever he dwelled too long on a topic or became too solemn, Cosmo would interrupt, urging him to stop focusing on the 'depressing stuff' and to simply enjoy himself or let it go. His godfather failed to grasp that it wasn't that simple, although he wished it were.

"Yeah…I—I'm feeling much better…." His replied with a quiver to his voice as he reached out towards the dainty selection of mild crackers and cucumber slices with a light cream cheese that was laid out before them, for Nova and him to nibble on as they sat in the garden and 'took time to smell the morning flowers.' He stopped mid-reach as he noticed his hand was trembling and realized just then that his eyes were also beginning to burn. He swallowed down a lump that had formed in his throat and tried to steady his hand, but dropped the cucumber slice he had managed to pick up. His eyesight got blurry as the burning sensation behind his eyes refused to subside.

"Timmy, are you alright?"

"I…I'm fine…." His voice came out so choked that even with his face turned away, it was obvious that he had begun to cry. He felt a mixture of frustration and confusion, unable to comprehend why his emotions had begun to overpower him; unaware that the intense relief felt from being released from his worries was responsible for the tumultuous storm brewing inside of him.

He shook his head, wiping at his eyes furiously, but the heat behind them did not stop and he felt water trickle out. He looked down at his feet, gritting his teeth to at least hold in a sob, trying to will himself to stop, but instead, the tears just got worse.

"Sorry…! I get like this sometimes—-I just….start crying and I can't stop, even when there's nothing to cry about and…I mean…right now I'm relieved and yet….I'm—-!" frustrated he rubbed at his eyes again. "I—I guess I was…just so worried…and—now that I know it's all ok…I'm just…" He pressed the palm of his hand over his eyes, but was unable to dam the tears, and they began to fall. "…Sheesh…I…I must have something really wrong with me….sorry, about these stupid crying fits I take. They must be so annoying." He forced a laugh, trying to downplay it.

"Not annoying in the least, I assure you." Nova patted him on the head, his voice soft, kind and very understanding; he did not even seem surprised or uncomfortable. "Nor is there anything wrong with you. This is actually a very common symptom of burnout. I've seen it hundreds of times, believe me child, what you're experiencing is far from abnormal."

"Burnout? What's that?"

"Burnout is the consequence of prolonged exposure to an overwhelming amount of stressors." Nova began to explain in the same tone he'd use when counseling him. He did that often, his mannerism and words became very professional and yet, the cold, clinical distance that was between him and his therapist back home did not form; no, Nova always remained deeply engaged with him; always looking him in the eyes, or touching his shoulder or head to reassure him, giving hugs when he needed extra comfort.

Unlike the dubious discount therapist his parents had enlisted, Nova didn't merely categorize his issues or suggest ways to ease life for the people around him; instead, he listened to his feelings, validated them as normal, and assured him he wasn't to blame. He communicated with understanding, not judgment. His Fey grandfather never made him feel broken.

"You see, the situation is akin to the strenuous task of carrying an extremely heavy backpack," Nova explained. With a snap of his fingers, a tiny doll that looked a little like him materialized on the table. The three baby Appapuffs watched with curiosity as the doll, burdened by a hefty hiking backpack, trudged slowly across the table. "This pack is borne daily, without respite, and each day, a bit more weight is added to the bag..."

He observed as the doll's backpack grew increasingly larger, reducing its pace to that of a snail. "The challenge of continuing grows ever more daunting; until it becomes impossible."

He sadly watched the tiny doll topple over from the weight of the backpack, its feet kicking up and down as it futilely tried to right its self.

"So... no matter how hard I try, it just keeps getting heavier…until I eventually collapse?" He rubbed at his eyes again, trying to grasp it. "But I thought if I just kept going, I'd be fine. That's what people always say, right? Like... if I just tough it out….eventually I'd learn how to cope with it; toughen up….you know?"

Nova shook his head gently. "Enduring hardship rarely leads to toughness; more often, it wears you down. And those who merely endure, instead of growing stronger, they get worn away to the point of apathy... and that..." His grandpa's gaze became distant, acquiring that far-off look he sometimes had when he mentioned Jullian, as he had a few times during their time together. "...makes a person very susceptible to what I call 'adult poison'... when they stop caring... it begins to erode the very best parts of them..."

"Oh..." He pondered whether there was anything good within him that the 'adult poison,' as Nova termed it, could erode.

"It's okay to ask for help before it gets too heavy to carry." Nova put an arm around him, and they watched together as the three baby Appapuffs helped the doll back up onto its feet. "Despite your efforts to maintain composure and strength, the accumulation of even minor setbacks can eventually become overwhelming, especially if you insist on carrying it alone. The occurrence of crying fits, as you dub them, arises when the heart and brain become fatigued from the burden of repressing emotional distress."

He frowned, thinking hard. "So... it's like... holding in everything makes it worse?" He pulled at the edge of his sleeve, still feeling embarrassed. "I hate crying, though. It feels like I should just be able to handle it, you know? I mean, other kids don't seem to cry this much….I never use to cry like this either."

Nova gave him a reassuring smile, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "Those other kids don't have the same backpack to carry. Everyone's weight is different, and yours has been heavier than most. The reason you cry now and not before; is simply that it's gotten too heavy. Furthermore, the act of crying does not indicate weakness, but rather serves as an expression of one's body admitting its incapacity to endure the burden alone any longer. It can be seen as a method of seeking assistance, even if it may not seem so at the time."

"…But, y'know…lots of people seem to find it annoying….they'll tell me to toughen up, or stop being a wimp, a crybaby or…just roll their eyes and mumble 'here we go again…' Wanda—and you—are the only ones who don't treat me like a pest when I cry." He sighed, Cosmo…reacted so bad….said he was growing down instead of growing up….

"I am so sorry you don't have more support…."

"Well, there is Poof; I'm sure he'd be nice about it, but…. well…I don't let Poof see me cry, but when he saw me cry after my accident, he started crying because it made him sad. He's really sweet like that. I'm sure he wouldn't make fun of me, or get annoyed….but I don't want to make Poof feel sad…"

He also feared that…when Poof got older, he too might start thinking that he was any annoying, bothersome wimp….he never wanted his little bro to look at him like an embarrassment.

"He feels sad, because he doesn't want to see someone he loves being hurt. It's ok to share your pain with those who care for you."

"But…I don't want to annoy people or make them sad….it just feels like…I'm being selfish and bothering everyone. That's what my therapist back home says—that the reason I cry so much is that I'm subconsciously seeking attention and trying to make others feel pity for me so that they'll overlook my shortcomings..." He fidgeted, head down, until Nova gently lifted his chin.

"Good grief, where did your parents hire that therapist from, an ad in the back of a comic book?"

"No, it was a flyer they found on the community board at the supermarket."

"Wait—what….?"

"Yeah, It promised free coffee and donuts to the parents while they wait, and it was ten times cheaper than a normal therapist."

"Do tell me your sessions are at least held at an office or a clinic?"

"No, it's in the basement of their house—it smells like cat food down there."

"…..Oh, Sweet Mab…" Nova's face had turned the same shade of green as his hair. He took in a deep breath and seemed to take a moment to compose himself. "Well, my poor sweet boy, I will say that the most crucial thing is for you to recognize that you are not at fault and rest assured that asking for help is not attention-seeking. No one, especially not a child should ever have the shoulder everything by themselves. You are not alone, and you have those who love you enough to help—so let us help you. My, poor, poor child….!" Nova seemed greatly pained and gave him a tight hug, rubbing his back soothingly. "It is no surprise that you have been burned to your quick, being on the receiving end of such ignorance and wanton cruelty! Crying is a perfectly acceptable response when required, as it allows for the release of intense emotions. When tears are held in, they can become poison, so never be afraid or ashamed of letting them out."

He exhaled shakily, the weight of Nova's words settling over him. "So... it's not bad that I cry? I'm just tired... really, really tired." He leaned into Nova a little, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence. "It's just... sometimes I feel like people will think I'm broken. Like there's something wrong with me, and I'll never stop feeling like this."

Nova held him in a hug for several moments longer and then drew back, only slightly in order to look him in the eyes, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, and the three Appapuffs cuddled closer to him, the yellow one giving his cheek a peck that made him laugh a little through his tears.

"You're not broken, Timmy. You're just carrying too much by yourself, and that's why I'm here—and Wanda, too." Nova reached over to the little doll and took off its backpack. "Tears are just your way of saying the backpack got too heavy. And that's okay. Let us help you feel lighter again."

He was quiet for a moment, watching as the little doll began to do cartwheels across the table, his thoughts still buzzing, but they felt... softer, somehow, as if someone had taken a little of the weight off his shoulders. He finally whispered,

"So...do you think when she comes back, Wanda will make me some of her special hot chocolate?"

Nova chuckled, ruffling his hair. "I'm sure she will, and I bet she'll make it with lots of extra love, too."

He smiled, leaning his head against Nova's arm; this made him feel happy, to have a second person being so understanding and who he could open up to about these feelings—and that Nova was Cosmo's father really did help to fill in the hole his godfather had left when he failed to be supportive over these things; just telling him to go back to how he was, as if he had some off-on switch….

No, he wouldn't think of that; at least not now. For now, he had a loving grandfather who understood so much about what he was going through and it felt like he could talk to him about anything and Wanda….she was just like her special Mother's Love hot chocolate; just being with her made him feel warm, safe and loved.

— Wanda's POV—

"Okay, I just gotta say—Nova is hot in that tall form." Glimmer remarked, conjuring up a gaudy fan to fan herself with.

The Fey around her had burst into chatter after the message was delivered; sounding like a bunch of high-school girls encountering a hot-guy. She rolled her eyes and settled into her cozy nook of the room to, begrudgingly, eat her slice of cake—hating how good it tasted.

She was still angry, but thanks to Ariafern's help, she had calmed down enough to calm her emotions and think rationally; and she began to try to formulate her plan on what to do and say when reunited with Timmy to give Nova the impression she wanted him to be left with; one that did not make herself a submissive tool, but not one he did not believe he could reason with—whilst also making sure she made things seem believable.

She also felt just a little less insulted over his interference, having learned of what had befallen his god children. His interference was still not appreciated but she could understand that enduring such a tragedy would have deeply affected someone. She couldn't imagine going through something so painful….

To have her godchild die….and blame herself for it…..

…..

The awful images the heart-soul had shown her flashed before her eyes and she fought to keep from shuddering.

….She would never forgive herself.

She could understand that Nova was acting out of pain and desperation to atone, and not scorn over her methods or a lack of fate in her ability, but…..

Ugh; the loud and inane conversation occurring behind her offered little opportunity for profound thought. Trying to think of such deep and painful things when a bunch of Fey were chattering so giddily about such stupid things was really impossible!

She wished this 'relaxation room' would be a little more private….

"I know—" Rosehip sounded intrigued. They were still talking about how Nova was apparently hot in his tall form. "I wonder why he doesn't adopt that form more often? He'd be on the same level as Mist or Alderwing!"

"Hmm, I like, think Seren is the most good-looking guy in our Circle…" Gizmo mused, and the looks the other women made in response to that statement showed that they did not share the sentiment.

"He probably doesn't take on his taller form too often because it makes him feel too similar to an adult human, you know how Nova's whole thing about 'adult-poison.' "Dazzle reminded, not without sympathy in her voice.

"Right," Rosehip nodded, then glanced at Piper, who was enjoying her third slice of cake. "Hey, why not encourage Nova to adopt that form more often?"

"Uh, why should I?" Piper raised an eyebrow.

"Duh, because he's ten times hotter that way!" Glimmer interjected, prompting Piper to sigh and roll her eyes to the ceiling.

"I have absolutely no interest in romantic entanglements," she stated flatly.

"Ugh, you and Lady Dewdrop both; I can't imagine not having even a fling. As for me, I need a new partner at least every thousand years, or I get terribly bored."

"And you've, like, exhausted all the eligible bachelors in our Ring to wed!" Gizmo ribbed Rosehip, who simply flashed a smile and retorted about the need to scout for a fresh romance from a different Ring.

"Though, if Nova would stay in that taller shape, he might just become husband number 704."

"Hey, I haven't even had one husband yet. If anyone's going to charm him, it's going to be me!" Glimmer declared, her tone only semi-serious.

"Uncle Nova wouldn't spare a glance for either of you, or anyone, for that matter. He's utterly devoted to Stella," Ariafern interjected, as she allowed a cake-filled, drowsy Lilybeth to rest in her lap, having returned to sit on the sofa after giving her that little pep talk.

"Yeah." Piper snorted. "If Mab couldn't nab his heart, your chances are nonexistent."

"How rude!"

"Don't take it hard. It's more to do with Nova's insane amounts of loyalty than any real rivalry over looks or personality."

"Really? He hasn't been on a single date all this time?" The Tooth Fairy exclaimed, clearly astonished. "That's quite remarkable, especially compared to Stella! How long was it that she was seeing your father for Wanda—?"

Her cheeks flushed crimson, and the cake almost slipped from her grasp. In a frantic bid for silence, she gestured sharply with her hand, but it was too late. A hush fell over the room, and the Fey, Piper included, shared glances filled with foreboding, all of them trembling as if suddenly doused with cold water.

"Did…I say something wrong?" Tannfe blinked, looking to her for answers. She slapped her forehead, groaning.

"You really are a bimbo, you know that?"

"I am not!" The Tooth Fairy protested, but the looks everyone cast her said otherwise.

"….Don't worry, we won't say a word." Aelar gulped.

"Yeah, can honestly say not a single person in our entire Ring, nay Circle, would have the guts." Glimmer shuddered, hugging herself. "Just the thought of doing it gives me the willies! I wouldn't even wanna be in the same vicinity as him if he found out!"

"I think even Gunter would hesitate to tell him!" Piper snorted, laughing a bit.

"Actually, maybe he wouldn't.." Dazzle, putting a finger on her lip thoughtfully, strained her memory, furrowing her brows. "It's impossible for me to recall what I was like when I was still separated, but I can remember what Nova and Anti-Nova behaved like very well. Nova was always a bit of a ladies-man, a real flirt. He loved Stella best, but he could be a real wolf! It worked out between them because Stella behaved in the same way he did. They kind of made a game of it, but they stopped the flirting around once hitched. It was actually Anti-Nova and Anti-Stella who were the loyal 'my one and only' type and became even more devoted to each other after marriage."

"And let us not think of the implications behind that." Piper joked, even as she nervously tugged on her braids. "Seriously, let's just not."

"Yes, please." She tried not to cringe; just thinking of Mama Cosma and Nova living a swinger lifestyle was making her a little sick. "Lets all wipe this conversation from our minds."

"You must find it all super strange, huh?" Dazzle sat down on the arm of her chair, the same spot where Ariafern had been perched a little while ago. She crossed her long legs and leaned back, stretching her long, slim figure. The short silk white shorts she wore left most of them bare, and the lavender top made of translucent ruffles showed off her perfect figure—it would almost be enough to make her feel a little jealous, though Dazzle herself had admitted during the tea party that back when she had been a fairy, she had been, in her own words 'almost too big to float', and that her current appearance was just an illusion created by using her magic.

"Strange doesn't even begin to explain it." She lifted a fork full of cake to her mouth; but stopped, suddenly feeling self-conscious, then shook her head at herself for being vain, and took a bite.

Lately, she found herself increasingly sensitive about her appearance, especially since her mother, who had finally returned to Fairy World from her 15000 year vacation, kept unfavorably comparing her to Blonda, and Cosmo's jokes had become so mean-spirited.

True, fairies could change their looks too, with magic, but staying transformed indefinitely was just not possible. Fairy god parents had permission to use the Big Wand's magic for their human world disguises, but if you wanted to use magic to alter your looks for cosmetic reasons—that came out of your own pocket.

"Linking must have been really scary, huh?" Dazzle nudged her, acting overly friendly. She wasn't sure that she'd want to short-cut her way to a great figure, in the same way Dazzle had done, even if she could. She enjoyed earning her successes, but she had to hesitantly admit to herself that some of Cosmo's recent jokes did make it tempting.

Luckily, Timmy's compliments and encouragement prevented her from feeling too badly about herself. Whenever her husband's jokes were on the more hurtful side; she just reminded herself of Timmy's claims—'He just says whatever he thinks sounds funny—not because he actually means them.'

To be fair, some of his jokes, if she were hearing them on a sitcom or a cartoon, were admittedly funny but… no woman wanted to hear their husband refer to them as a disco ball when they put on a silver, sequined dress…

"…Yeah." She admitted quietly, feeling foolish; wasting even a moment's thought on something so—trivial, when there were so many more urgent things to think about, made her feel so petty.

"Aw, wanna talk about it?"

She did not want to talk about it to a Fey, but it would not help her efforts to come across as unfriendly, so she forced a smile.

"I…I have to admit that I really don't like the way I behaved, or the way I thought…" She admitted without going into details.

"Linking doesn't really show you what you'll be like as a Fey; so don't worry about how you may have felt, thought or behaved while like that. I've been through it—helping Nova save those kids had me Linking too, and that was how I got caught." Dazzle puffed out her cheeks, still seemingly sore about it. "Your super responsible, while your Anti-self isn't, and that got swapped around, but normally personality traits will mingle together and merge, an overly serious fairy and an anti-fairy who took everything as a joke, could end up being someone who's still serious but now has a sense of humor."

…So basically Dazzle had come over to talk to her as a sort of damage control, seeing how she had not liked how she had behaved while she was Linking and seeking to reassure her that would not be how she'd behave if she choosed to become a Fey.

She was not in the mood, but knew she had to play along and….besides….

Someday, once she hit a million years old, she would have to make a decision; become a Fey or dust….and while it was a long, long way off, it would eventually come, so perhaps asking a few questions while she had the opportunity was not a terrible idea, and it would go a long way in deceiving Nova into believing she was actually considering it.

It was often said that once you became a Fey, your 'true nature' was finally revealed, and she could honestly say with certainty she'd rather become dust than become the sort of person who'd use someone's pain to make themselves feel important….she did not ever want to be that kind of person, and was honestly frightened by the very idea that her 'true nature' was really such an ugly thing.

"But didn't Nova's traits get swapped around? He's completely loyal like his anti-self, with no trace of any of his former—err—wolfishness." She pointed out. There was definitely no merging of the traits there; but a complete overwrite of one over the other…. "I just couldn't bear the idea that all the care I have for Timmy would get swapped around for my anti-self's disgusting self-interest."

"Oh, don't worry about that!" Glimmer laughed, as if she was a little kid worrying about a make believe boogeyman. "Overwriting instead of merging is a good thing! It happens in order to make sure that the things that matter most to our sense of self will not change."

"The things that matter most….?"

"Yeah, absolutely! The things that make you who you are as a person, the things you value most about yourself, will not change. Anti-Nova's sense of loyalty was far more dear to him than Fairy-Nova's desire to flirt around, and since they were soooo incompatible, the stronger, more meaningful one got kept."

"….So, I won't be the type of person who'll indulge in self-gratification at the expense of the suffering of someone I love?" She blurted this out, anger at herself and a desperate desire to be told that wasn't her 'true nature', that it really had just been a case of the wrong personality points getting swapped around during Linking.

Dazzle put an arm around her, leaning her head against hers in what was supposed to be a 'chummy' way, but just felt invasive. "I know I don't know you well, but, your in the highest bond-bracket with your godchild, so there is no way that your anti-self's feelings of 'yay, I love being so super helpful!' would overwrite your love and care!"

"Your overthinking things way too much, darling." Rosehip remarked, coming over to sit on the other arm of the chair. "It's obvious if you're that upset and troubled by the thoughts you had while Linking, that it definitely is something that goes against your true nature."

"Though in Siofra and Finch's case—their fairy selves were so hum-drum, that their like 90% their anti-selves!" Glimmer laughed with mirth, making several others crack up.

"Don't stress 'bout it so much." Piper was back to eating cake now. "From Stella's letters, Anti-Wanda is apparently a complete moron, and 99% of the time when one half of a pair is an idiot, they get almost entirely overwritten. At most, merging with your anti-self would just sand down your edges a smudge, and to be frank, you could use some sanding down in some areas—big time."

"Candid as always, aren't you, Piper?" Aelar cast her a dry look.

"Like, try not to be insulted; Piper's has a snakes tongue sometimes, we think you're like, completely fine, it's only sensible you'd, like, loose your cool a little with all that's happened in such a short time. ." Gizmo flashed her a smile, which was actually so insincere that it was far more insulting than Piper's statement.

"It's fine; it's only been 24 hours, but I've already gotten used to Piper's insults."

Piper laughed. "Yeah, I know how to dish them out."

"…To be fair, I've been giving her lots of material…." She gritted her teeth; her mother and sister had claimed she had no acting prowess, but right now she was performing more skillfully then either of them ever let the conversation around her drift away as she fiddled with her necklace; a real petal and the jeweled flower petal Timmy had coughed up; a necklace made from two proofs of love from him—a gift from a baby, and one a jewel forged from love and pain….

The things most important would stay a part of her….so, did that mean that the love she had for Timmy would be unchanged? She would not become a selfish, horrible godmother who cared more about feeling useful than she did about the pain her godchild was in? If she became a Fey once she became a million years old, she would not look back at her memories of Timmy and think about how 'wonderful it felt to have a god child depend on her so much',

It still tore her apart to recall those thoughts and feelings….

She wanted her memories of Timmy to only be of how much she loved him, his bright laugh, his smile, the fun he liked to have, the warm hugs he gave…..how much he loved her…..

'Timmy loves me too much to ever be swayed to leave me….'

…She did not want to recall that selfish thought anymore.

She had not wanted to see Timmy's sad face on that TV screen, worried that she hadn't responded because she had gotten mad at him….

She did not want to think about how she had fretted that he wouldn't worry over her missed message because he was having so much fun with Nova….and there was no Linking that she could use to make an excuse for that…

Timmy loved her so much, and it was not something she wanted to loose, not to Mab or to Nova….but she did not want this love to ever become something selfish; she wanted it to bring comfort to Timmy….and that it had instead brought him worry and pain—and that a part of her had wanted it too—just because of her jealousy about him having so much fun with Nova, made her wonder, afraid…that those awful thoughts she had, might not have been due to her Linking after all….

Because….she wanted Timmy to love her best….she wanted to be the only one he needed to help him…she wanted to be the one to put that broken little boy back together….

She wasn't Linking anymore, but all these new thoughts, feelings and ideas had become a part of her and she hated it….It was like she did not even know who she was anymore, and it was terrifying….

She did not want to become someone that Timmy couldn't trust…she was sure that if he knew about those terrible feelings and thoughts Linking had put in her mind, he would feel so hurt and betrayed….but…Timmy hated being lied to or having secrets kept from him…

….If she wanted to stay as someone he could trust, she'd have to confess to him, wouldn't she….?

Anti-Wanda POV

When she blinked awake, the world felt like a dream—one of those soft, hazy ones where everything was both confusing and oddly comforting. The last thing she remembered was being in her family's arms, exhaustion swallowing her whole as she drifted off.

Her head rested on a well-worn pillow, infused with the subtle scent of her husband's cologne, mingled with a hint of her favorite perfume. Familiar and comforting.

The bed they shared was a mix of smooth silks and velvets in deep blues and blacks, with cashmere throws tossed carelessly over the corners. It was far fancier than anything she'd ever pick—cotton sheets and flannel pajamas were more her style—but she let her husband choose. His love for elegance, though baffling to her, was something she adored about him. She smiled to herself. It was one of the many things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

With a soft groan, she sat up, the luxurious layers slipping down her shoulders. Her hand brushed a small lump beside her, and she smiled when she saw who it was.

Foop lay curled up, snoring softly, clutching the teddy bear she'd made for him when he had been born. His tiny thumb rested in his mouth.

"Aw, ain't you just the sweetest little thing when you're asleep…" she whispered, careful not to wake him. Conjuring a camera, she snapped a picture, fully aware that if he ever saw it, he'd throw an unholy tantrum. But that was just fine by her. More tantrums meant more adorable photo ops.

Lying back down, she exhaled deeply. The memories of everything that had happened were vivid, but tangled. She could remember every detail, yet the emotions and thoughts felt like a jumbled knot she couldn't quite unravel. Thinking deeply was never her strong suit—life was easier when it stayed as simple as AB3… or was it 12C?

The soft shadows danced on the stone walls, flickering as they brushed over the twisted gargoyle statues in the corners of the room. She glanced up at the little skull charms swaying gently from the canopy above her. Somewhere in the distance, the faint ticking of that invisible clock echoed—a clock her husband insisted on, though she'd never understood the use of a clock you could not see. Not that she could tell time time on anything but digital clocks anyway.

The room was full of small, strange touches—gargoyles polished to a gleam, mirrors with spiderweb cracks she could trace from memory, silk patterns that looked like roses blooming and decaying all at once. It was all too fancy for her tastes. But it was his style. And loving him meant she loved it too, in a way. His fancy nonsense felt like home to her, more than the wild fields of the anti-world countryside ever had.

She glanced at Foop again, her heart softening. It felt so good to have him here—her independent little boy who acted like he didn't need her 90% of the time, but when he did? Oh, it was the best feeling in the world.

It felt so good to be needed.

Normally, she wasn't much use to anyone—her talents were few and far between. Sure, she could cook, but whenever she tried to help with anything else, she usually made things worse. Yet her husband adored her, and deep down, she knew Foop did too, even if he pretended otherwise.

But still… she liked the feeling of being needed. It lingered in her chest, even now—like a tiny sliver of glass buried too deep under the skin to remove.

That Turner boy… had he always been so weak? It was hard to believe that the stubborn kid who kept ruining her husband's plans had been reduced to that fragile, dependent creature. Holding him had felt like cradling a baby bird, desperate for warmth and safety.

She hadn't just been helpful. She'd been necessary. For a brief moment, it felt like his entire world had rested in her hands, like she could mold his future into something grand and beautiful.

But that confidence had faded now. She hated responsibility—never trusted herself with it. That boy didn't need her. He needed her counterpart.

Still… she wondered if he was okay. She hoped he wasn't crying.

The images from her nightmare gnawed at the edges of her mind—nooses, pills, and tubs filled with red water. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the thoughts away.

'It's not my business,' she thought. 'He needs Wanda, not me.'

What she needed was her husband. Where was he?

With a sigh, she slid out of bed, her body still weak and her floating unsteady. Fortunately, her husband's study wasn't far. She made her way there, relief washing over her when she heard his voice coming through the door.

"—never was one to take no for an answer," Anti-Cosmo grumbled. "There's not a pushier creature in the universe." Despite his words, there was no real irritation in his tone—just the faintest hint of gratitude.

She tilted her head. Was he talking about Foop? That little rascal could certainly be persistent when he wanted something.

"I get it, though! You know you can come to me whenever you need help," said a second voice—familiar, though she couldn't quite place it. "I know you hate asking for it, but you can't be in two places at once!"

Whoever it was must've been close enough to speak to her husband like this, not very many people took such a casual tone with him.

"…You should've just burned that letter," Her husband claimed with a soft grumble. "There's no reason for you to get involved in this mess."

"But you could use my help, couldn't you?" the voice pressed. "Your wife needs you right now—with the Linking, the Fey, and all this unifying business. It's a disaster waiting to happen. She shouldn't have to deal with this on her own."

Anti-Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, a shiver running down her spine. She never wanted to experience anything like that nightmare again.

"It is the truth. I really do need your help," Anti-Cosmo admitted quietly, and the vulnerability in his voice made her heart ache. "It is something I really do hate to ask of you… but I can't bear the thought of losing my wife. No, I simply can't take the risk of loosing my family to this mess."

'Oh, Cosie…' she thought, pressing a hand against the door. She longed to go inside and hold him, but she knew better. Her husband hated being seen like this, especially by her.

"You won't lose them," the voice assured. "We'll get through this. The Linking, the Fey stuff—well find a way t get pass all of it." There was a pause, hesitation creeping into the voice. "…But what do you intend to do about that kid?"

Her heart skipped a beat, and she pressed her ear harder against the door, her heart fluttering with a nervousness she couldn't quite understand. The voices on the other side were low, but clear enough to make out.

"This is exactly why I didn't want to involve you in this plan." Her husband's tone was tight with frustration—though there was an edge of something softer. Apologetic, maybe? "You're loyal and dependable, I'll give you that… but you're too kind. That soft heart of yours—honestly, it's embarrassing for an anti-fairy."

"I know, I know. You've said it a million times." The familiar voice responded lightly, with just a hint of exasperation. "But having a soft heart doesn't make it weak."

"That was… undeniably sappy."

"Yeah, I know."

Her husband let out a weary sigh. "To answer your question, I don't know for certain… but I'll do whatever it takes to keep my family together."

Those words hit her like a punch to the gut. Whatever it takes...

She swallowed hard. She'd do whatever it takes to keep her family, too—no matter what. But…

Her mind drifted back to the emotions that weren't quite her own, remnants left behind from her brief union with her fairy counterpart. They felt sticky, like cobwebs she couldn't brush away. She remembered that little Turner boy sobbing—how she'd tucked him into bed, wiped his tear-streaked cheeks, and held his cold, fragile hand until he fell asleep. If keeping her family together meant hurting that boy, could she really go through with it?

'You didn't care before. Don't start now, or you'll be stupider than stupid!' she scolded herself. These feelings weren't hers—they were just leftover scraps from her fairy counterpart's mind, nothing more. She shouldn't let them get to her.

"Well, whatever you decide, I'll be in your corner." The other voice spoke with unwavering loyalty. "You know I've always got your back."

"Yes… You've never let me down, Apollo. Out of all the anti-fairies, apart from my wife, you're the most loyal to me… even if you don't exactly live up to the anti name."

'Oh, it's Apollo...' She now recognized the voice and wrinkled up her nose; she did not like that guy, he was a bad influence, or...was it a good influence-well in any case, an embarrassment of an Anti-Fairy.

"That's why I'm perfect for the job," Apollo replied, a mischievous edge creeping into his voice. "I can slip between shadows and sunlight—blend right in. A little cosmetic work, and no one will even guess I'm an anti-fairy."

"You sound almost… excited."

"I mean, I do like any excuse to cosplay."

Her husband chuckled quietly. "You're such a geek. But seriously—thank you. Just… about Timmy… I'd recommend not getting too close to him."

"You think he'll figure me out?"

"No. But I know you. You're just…too sympathetic, too—compassionate; and this might go to some dark places. Depending on what's necessary, I may have to take… extreme measures."

Her stomach twisted at the words. Extreme measures. She could almost feel Timmy's tiny body in her arms again—small, shivering, so vulnerable. There was no need for extreme measures against someone so helpless.

'Get a grip. These feelings aren't me—they're just rabbit droppings my counterpart left behind. Shake them off.'

"So, best I don't get attached." Apollo tried to sound lighthearted, but the unease bled through his voice.

'That's right. Don't go gettin' get attached. Do whatever it takes—whatever it takes to stay with my family.' But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, her heart squirmed at the thought.

"That's right," her husband said softly. "The kid's already dead. Just keep that in mind. That way, no matter what happens, you won't feel guilty."

The words were so cold—so final—that they sliced through her like the sharpest blade. But why? Why did it hurt so much? These weren't leftover emotions from her counterpart. They were hers. She had no reason to feel this way about Timmy. She'd even tried to help her husband destroy the boy before—so why did the memory of their Mardi Gras celebration together keep coming back, filling her with a bittersweet ache? How they laughed, danced, played, and hugged...

"…Timmy…" she whispered the name under her breath, tasting it on her own lips for the first time. Not "Turner" or "buck-tooth kid"—but his name. It slipped out so easily, like she'd said it a hundred times before.

Apollo's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I already feel bad, you know. I just hope we don't have to do anything drastic… and if we do, it'll haunt me, but I'd feel worse if I weren't there when you needed me."

Her heart clenched. She didn't want Timmy to get hurt. But she didn't want to lose her family either—not her husband, not her son. And definitely not herself.

"I'll go prep for my role now. Just give me the word, and I'll be there—with bells on!" Apollo's cheerful tone tried to mask his discomfort.

"…I think bells might raise some questions."

"It's, uh, a figure of speech."

"Right. Of course." Her husband's voice softened again. "Very well. I'll accept your help, but don't do anything without consulting me first. And if, at any point, you want to drop out—just say the word. Even I don't know where this path will take us… but I do appreciate your loyalty, Apollo."

"Yeah. Anytime."

The conversation ended, leaving her in heavy silence. Apollo… Of course it had been him. She should've recognized the voice sooner.

Apollo was a lot of things—most of them irritating. He was annoyingly soft-hearted and hopelessly geeky, but he was also fiercely loyal to her husband. No matter what, Apollo always looked out for him, ready to help at the drop of a hat.

She floated quietly back to her room, her thoughts swirling. Slipping under the covers, she reached out to gently stroke Foop's back. He always swatted her away when he was awake, but while he slept, she could baby him as much as she wanted.

Her husband had Apollo to rely on. Foop didn't want her help. And here she was—being helped, but of no help to anyone.

"How are you feeling now, dearest?" Her husband arrived not too much later to check on her, and she offered him a smile, trying to mask her feelings.

"My head, still feels like it's been put into a blender, but…I'm startin' to get back to myself."

"That's good to hear." He sat down beside her, patting her arm. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there when you were in so much trouble. It must have been frightening."

"That's ok, I know you weren't here because you were busy tryin' to find a way to help me; and you came later, and that's why I'm back to myself now, so don't go frettin' none 'bout it." She awkwardly lowered her face, hoping he wouldn't notice she had listened in on his conversation. Her husband was well aware of her penchant for eavesdropping when they married and probably wouldn't be surprised let alone angry, still, admitting to eavesdropping on a conversation concerning herself was embarrassing.

"Crumpet, could you share your experiences with me in detail? I understand it may be challenging to revisit your Linking episode so soon, but information is currently our sole weapon against this unwelcome situation."

"Well, lemme think now… First thing I remember, I was in China—or, leastways, it looked like China. Course, it started lookin' like a whole bunch'a places later on, but right then, it was China fer sure. Now, Timmy was—" She caught herself. "Er, I mean, the Turner kid was snoozin' like a possum in a peach tree, not a care in the world. But then I done saw this here red cord comin' right outta him! And I thought, 'Well, ain't that the darndest thing.' But my other self—oh boy—her thoughts were buzzin' like a hornet in a Coke can, all in a tizzy over it."

"A red cord…I think that might have been his soul-thread…." Seeing the blank look she was no doubt giving him, he sighed and explained. "That's the thread the connects the two souls humans possess."

She nodded; still not really understanding. "Well, anyhow, like a spook stuck in a body I couldn't do nothin' with, I went barrelin' into this god-awful, frilly pink nightmare of a room—looked like somethin' straight outta Barbie! An' there was this doctor lady in there, lookin' like she was tryin' to advertise for a candy store or somethin'. We was both tryin' to get this cutesy lil' butterfly-baby thing to quit yankin' on that red cord—but it wouldn't let go no matter what. Now, Piper told me plain as day, 'Don't go near it!' But danged if my stubborn ol' counterpart didn't waltz right up there anyway, fiddlin' with it, tryna make that thing let go. And then—WHAM!" She clapped her hand into her fist with a loud smack, makin' Foop jolt awake like a cat that'd heard a firecracker. "Next thing I know, I was plopped smack-dab in the middle of some kinda horror movie scene!"

"Well, as pleasant as horror movies are to wake up to; I'd rather not be jump scared awake to watch them." Foop grumbled, sitting up and crossing his arms with a pout.

"Sorry 'bout that Foopie, Mama was just telling your father all 'bout her Linkin' episode; it's just gettin' to the scary part."

"Oh goodie, let me listen too—I so do sleep better after hearing a scary story." Foop looked thrilled and…as much as she liked scary stories herself…she found no fun in this one at all.

"I ended up in some kinda dream-nightmare mess. Finally got loose from my counterpart's body, but I was all see-through, like one o' them ghosts in them TV shows—couldn't nobody hear me or see me. I was in the Turner boy's room, but dang if it didn't look like some haunted house attraction. There were jump ropes tied up like nooses hangin' from the ceilin', an' dolls made to look like his friends an' family playin' in 'em, sayin' the meanest stuff ya ever did hear. An' all over the walls were pictures of every dang mistake that poor boy ever made."

"I'm surprised there was any wall left." Foop chuckled, and for reason she did not understand, a part of her wanted to scold him, it….wasn't anything to laugh at…

"There he was, layin' in bed, cryin' his eyes out—just sobbin' and sobbin' somethin' pitiful. Then, I swear, he turned into a doll, an' pills started pourin' outta his belly like he was a dang Pez dispenser. Meanwhile, there was a whole mess o' copies of my counterpart just bumblin' 'round the room, tryin' to fix broken junk an' blamin' herself for everythin'. But all that poor kid did was keep cryin'—and he wasn't gettin' no help from her. Not one bit."

"…." Her husband messed with hair, swallowing hard. "…Could it be that Wanda is worried….that he might…."

"I gosh darn think she is worrying 'bout that—I mean, I'm stupid, but even I know what that stuff means… and it gets worse too—the bathroom door opened, and the tub was filled with red stuff—didn't look like no water I ever seen. My counterpart was sittin' on the edge of it, rockin' a baby version of the Turner boy in her arms, singin' real soft-like. But even though it was movin', its lips were blue as a winter sky, and you could tell plain as day it was dead."

"That is a tad unsettling…." Foop hugged his teddy a little closer. "…Come to think of it, the Turner clone Poof showed me earlier, was hitting itself….but….do you think that's why aunty Wanda has gotten so close that it's makin' you Link, because she's worried that he might commit s—"

"Foop, please…some things are better left unsaid!" His father snapped at him. "I'm sure if that was the case, she would have surely confided such a drastic fear to my counterpart, and with his big mouth, everyone across the universe would know by now."

"I don't know about that; he's a complete moron after all, he wouldn't be much help."

"Even if he wasn't any help—Wanda wouldn't be that disrespectful…to keep from her fellow godparent and husband that she believed that their charge was at high risk for—the ultimate failure of any godparent— it would be the same as telling him that he was as god as dirt; completely useless and unworthy of his wand." Anti-Cosmo scoffed. "And even though that is true—she surely thinks more of him than to do that! It's probably just a fear with no grounding; just a natural worry to occur to her because of all the stuff going on with him—if something had happened she would have said something to him."

"Why are you taking this so personally?"

"Oh, that's easy, Foopie; even though we're opposites of our counterparts in just about every way, the one thing we both got in common is how we feel 'bout other people. It's like sayin' my counterpart thinks so little of her husband that she don't trust him with somethin' so important—kinda says that I don't trust mine neither, ya see?"

"Well, you did neglect to tell me about your Linking, my dear."

"Oh, that ain't 'cause I didn't trust ya; I just didn't know what in tarnation it was! I thought I was just daydreamin', or maybe that I had gone and put a lil' too much bourbon in my coffee, if ya catch my drift." She forced a giggled, which thankfully elicited a small smile from her husband, who just quietly stroked her arm.

"That can't be right; my sappy counterpart adores that beaver-boy while I'd sooner strap him to a rocket and fire it into the very center of the sun." Foop was frowning, looking like he did not like any possibility of 'liking,' Timmy.

"You can't love what you don't know." Anti-Cosmo scoffed. "If we were to spend an excessive amount of quality time with the boy, we would develop the same affection for him as our counterparts have—this is why your mother and I steer clear of the Turner boy unless he interferes with our schemes. You would understand this if you dedicated more time to your studies and less to breeding mutant guppies!"

She tried to keep her gasp to herself as her husband explained things to Foop; was…..was this why she was feeling this way? She had spent hours with Timmy whilst inside of her counterpart…so did that mean, because she had gotten to really know him, spent time playing and comforting him, that she'd end up developing the same motherly feelings as her counterpart had…?

But….Foop was the only son she needed….even if he did not really need her back….

"Dearest, are you alright?"

"Oh yes—it just that this here next part is really somethin' else; this busted up, bloody mess crawled out from behind the bed—looked like the Turner boy, only it was all broken and missin' pieces. There was a hole in its chest big enough to fit a fist, and its neck was bent every which way. That thing moved like that creepy girl from The Ring—all jerky and unnatural. And wouldn't ya know it, the dang thing went right passed me, shufflin' right into the bathroom where my counterpart was…!"

"Poof told me that he apparently was pushed down the stairs by his babysitter and that he fell on top of a powered on chainsaw! Gosh, I know I'm evil, but that Vicky scares the bejesus out of me! I hate Turner, but even I wouldn't give him a death that excruciating!"

"….Weren't you just saying you'd strap him to a rocket and fire him into the center of the sun?"

"Yes, and do you know how hot the sun is? He'd be dead before he could feel the heat—quite merciful when compared to death by chainsaw, if I must say so."

"Fair enough."

"Well, here's the kicker—" She interrupted; hearing about how Timmy had died, it made her heart-ache. "My idiot counterpart just smiled like it was a sleepy kid, picked it right up, and carried it to bed! Didn't even flinch. An' just when I thought things couldn't get no weirder, a whole cloud o' smoke rolled into the room, an' next thing I knew, I was back in my counterpart's body, right in that awful frilly pink room. And wouldn't ya guess, I was gettin' a real good tongue-lashin' from that candy-colored doctor lady! Turns out that little butterfly-baby critter had possessed me or somethin'!"

"Fairies can get possessed?" Foop's jaw dropped, shocked, and her husband put an arm around her, holding her close to him.

"It must have been so frightening for you, crumpet…."

"Yeah, it sure was. I was more scared than a cat in a room full of cucumbers, but for a spell after that, things weren't so bad. I was stuck, like a ghost myself, inside my counterpart's body, and it was gettin' harder and harder to tell where I ended and she began. For hours, me and Tim—Turner, we just sat out in a garden, munchin' and watchin' shows. Then came the time for the Mardi Gras celebration! Woo-wee, I ain't too keen on bein' around the Fey much, but I'll tell ya, they sure know how to throw a party! Had to admit…once I started drinkin', I forgot I was even Linkin'!"

"….Oh dear me, crumpet I love you but you really do have a problem with self-control, how much did you….?"

"I drank like a fish, I tell ya! I mean, all the cocktails I wanted; not only free on the wallet but free from calories too! Gosh darn, I'd be a wasteful fool not to try at least each one—though, your daddy did start scoldin' me, he did. But whew, I had a blast dancin' with the floats and catchin' beads and stuff! Oh, I even had Timmy try a sip; oh boy, your daddy got real mad at that one! Ah, and I had the finest piece of eye-candy as my server—no, wait…thinkin' back, he weren't really my type. I guess Manuel was more to my counterpart's taste, and—"

"Ahem….moving along, dearest….."

"Right, anyway, I woke up with a real banger of a hangover and fell asleep in the bath, coughin' up bubbles—and—" She stopped short; speaking casually about Timmy's panic attack did not feel…right. She had held him, comforted him and …..felt so good about it…..

"Dearest?"

"Ugh, that nasty Tooth Fairy showed up and put me through pure torture, I tell ya! She slathered my delicious pickled veggies in some disgusting chocolate and forced 'em down my throat, then she sprayed the room full of this flowery vanilla scent that was just all kinds of nauseatin'. To make it worse, she mixed my favorite scent with it, and now I ain't sure I can ever wear that perfume again without rememberin' that gross vanilla-peony smell! Then she puts a mini sun and a mini storm right over my head—I might like thunderstorms, but I sure don't want 'em rainin' down on me! And that ain't even the worst of it—she takes this giant marshmallow and squishes it beneath my toes; that's NOT the kind of soft and squishy I like!"

"What kind of soft and squishy do you like?" Foop quirked his brow, and her husband was the one to answer with a big sigh.

"...Let's just say your mother has an affinity for sumo wrestlers... and was quite determined to have me resemble one when we began dating; I'm convinced she must have put three sticks of butter into everything she cooked."

"But my love for your daddy goes deeper than just looks; even if he's as thin as a rail, I still think he's the cutest thing ever." She pinched his cheeks and couldn't help but smile at the sight of a faint blush creeping onto his face. "I reckon my counterpart must like them muscle-men types, but… I gotta admit, I'm real confused as to why the next thing that Tooth Fairy pulled out was a banana."

"…!" Her husband clamped a hand over his mouth as he desperately tried not to laugh and utterly failed.

"It's funny, ain't it, Cosie? I mean, if I like soft, squishy things, then I get the marshmallow, but if my counterpart likes hard, firm stuff—why in tarnation would the Tooth Fairy bring a banana? Them things ain't hard; they're mushy! Even I know that much!"

"Oh, please mother—! You're a full-grown adult woman, surely you know that—"

"Wait, Foop, how on earth would you know about—?" Her Cosie's face paled as he stopped laughing, a stunned expression crossing over his features.

"Oh please! I was incarcerated in fairy prison shortly after my birth. I've seen things."

"W-what kinds of things…?" Her husband was looking downright alarmed right now.

"Bananas that aren't even near ripe enough to eat being served as a so-called snack! I swear some of them were greener than your eyes! They were hard, waxy and just plain inedible! Just because we're prisoners shouldn't mean we get fed subpar fruit!"

"Better than the ones that got all brown and soggy, real darn shame that." She agreed. No wonder her poor husband had such an expression, hearing about the terrible fruit their poor baby had been served while behind bars! She looked at him, to see what he had to say about this, but he had his head turned, and both hands clamped over his mouth, his body shaking lightly. "Cosie, you alright?"

"I…ahem…am just…stunned by the wretched inattention to the nutritional needs of the incarcerated…"

"Maybe we oughta go and stage a protest! No more thrustin' hard bananas in the cells!" she proclaimed. "That way, next time our baby boy gets put behind bars, he'll have some nice ripe bananas to munch on!"

"I don't need you to do that mother, I'm very much capable of doing that on my own."

"…You really don't need me for much, do ya Foopie…." She sighed a little, unable to help but feel sad….she was proud of how capable her boy was but….would she ever be able to comfort him, help him—the way she had helped Timmy whilst inside of her counterpart….

"Well…I—umm," Foop fumbled awkwardly for a moment, messing with his hands. "I, well… do need my lunch made; the school cafeteria is horrendous and father's lunches make those seem like they were prepared by a five-star chef. So I suppose I do need you in order not to starve to death…."

"—Perhaps, as your mother is under the weather, I ought to prepare your lunch tomorrow. I was thinking PB , but now….I'm thinking fugu-liver sushi rolls…" Her husband gave their son the stink-eye, but she wasn't mad….Foop was right; that she was a good cook was the only use she had to anyone….

"You do, and I will be sure to 'generously' share them with all my classmates while 'selflessly' leaving none for myself." Foop huffed and then grabbed hold of her hand; he said nothing, and did not even look at her, but she smiled—knowing that he felt bad, but was just too proud to say so.

"Then what happened?" Her husband asked her gently, petting her other hand, locking eyes with her, his were so full of love and tenderness that she felt like it was almost ok that she was a useless person, because she was a loved one…

"…A tree-monster with rows and rows of sharp teeth showed up, and…I think I fainted."

"Well, that was random." Foop remarked, whilst her husband leaned in and kissed her brow.

"You've endured quite a bit; it's time for you to rest and leave this turmoil behind. Rest assured, you have nothing to fear—I'll ensure your safety and that no harm comes your way."

"I'm really lucky to have you, Cosie," she said, smiling gratefully at him. However, there was also a hint of sadness in her smile, which she hoped he did not notice.

He gently laid her down and tucked her into bed, just like she had done with Timmy. The time spent Linking with her counterpart, as horrible and as frightening as it had been, was perhaps the only experience she would ever have of feeling truly needed by someone….

Nova's POV

"That's it, my boy! That was a wonderful sequel bait ending!" He laugh, jovially; ah, to think—-he had been able to fulfill one of his dreams and 'make a movie' together with a member of his family.

Just as he had thought, Timmy had fallen in love with the 'generate' function on the television. He had overcome its learning curve with his help and, in all the free time they've had together, they worked on making a movie. On their last day alone together - for now, at least - they had finished it. It was a Timmy and Grandpa production.

Timmy wanly turned his head to look up at him with a big smile. Unfortunately, his fever from Mab's kiss had spiked again. Combined with the energy expended from his cry earlier, it had left him frail and in need of bed rest. At this stage of the treatment, when the 'pathway formed' but had no magical current moving through it, children always became fragile. However, Timmy was more pitiable than most.

Sometimes he had the energy to sit up on his own and engage in some cuddles with the Companions. But there were times when all he could do was lay in bed, like right now...

"I'm so glad we got to finish it! Do you think…maybe Wanda will be ok with the three of us watching it together in the café?"

"Oh, I do hope so!" The idea thrilled him. A little family movie night at the café! How wonderful that would be. However, it might take a little while for Wanda to be agreeable. No doubt, she was still angry with him - she had literally exploded. He wasn't fooled by that happy-go-lucky video she had sent. But he truly appreciated the effort she made to put Timmy at ease. He respected how much she cared for the child.

"I hope she likes the character we made based on her! I made sure to give her a ton of cool action scenes!"

"I bet she'll love it," he smiled. Inwardly, however, he winced. He was pretty sure that when he next saw her, the things movie-Wanda had done to the eldritch monsters would pale in comparison to what the real Wanda would do to him. He hoped she would allow him to explain his behavior and be reasonable. After all, it was all in the best interest of Timmy's care - and for her, too.

Everything he had done was to ensure that Timmy would be spared Jullian or Julia's fate. He even chose a time when the boy was physically feeble to take him under his solo care. When the body was weak, the mind became even easier to influence. It took too much energy to resist or think too deeply. Timmy had long stopped needing to be reminded of the schedule he had set up. He began to follow it automatically, transforming it from a schedule into a routine.

Even if Wanda tried to detour him out of a sense of silly pride, Timmy had already ingrained it. And even if he stopped following it 100%, he would likely retain the most important parts. He wasn't doing it to have control. He knew what the child needed, how to help him, how to stop him from ending up like Jullian. Jullian had been destroyed by a world that seemed to have it out for him for no apparent reason. If he had known more, perhaps he would have been able to teach Jullian the things he needed to prevent being broken by the world. But alas, he had stupidly thought that simply having the boy 'survive' and push through the hardship was a happy ending, a brave and courageous thing. He had been as naïve as little Timmy, who believed that enduring an impossible situation would toughen you up and give you the confidence to overcome life's trials.

…Maybe for a lucky 2%….

Maybe, if they had been allowed to stay with him and get him out of that toxic environment before having to leave him, Jullian could have been in that lucky 2%. Poor sweet Jullian had reached his limit of endurance once he was left alone. And if what happened to Julia befell Timmy, no, he wouldn't let it get to that point. He had learned so much since then, and he wouldn't let Timmy down like he had let those two down before.

This time, he would be useful, not just some dimwit who thought he was doing good but was really doing nothing at all. He wouldn't endure that pain a third time, and he wouldn't let Wanda endure it either, even if it meant she would hate him for a while.

"Now that we've exercised the right side of your brain, lets invigorate the left side, you can choose the subject; economics or Fey world geography."

"Geography!" Timmy proclaimed, with no need for even a second to think; the moment a subject had anything to do with the magical world, Timmy picked it right away. It was so endearing!

"Well then, let us begin…" He conjured a book into his hand and moved in closer so that Timmy could see it; the way he snuggled up to him, as if he were receiving a bedtime story rather than a lesson, was simply precious.

"During the Mana wars, the Fey were ruled by four great and immensely powerful Fey Kings; each residing over a different direction; King Finvarra of the East, King Midir of the South, King Arawn of the West and King Nuda of the North. In these days, all Fey worked as a unified group in order to emerge victorious in the war."

"Were the Kings strong?"

"Oh yes; a single King had the power of a thousand Fey…they were frighteningly powerful…and yet each one of them perished during the war…"

"How?" Timmy sounded as if he were unable to believe it possible; that such powerful people could die; but the Mana War had been a terrible affair; he had not been alive to witness it, but reading the uncensored history books found in Fey world, and speaking directly to Queen Mab, Piper and several others who had lived in those days, had opened his eyes to the true horror of that war.

"Child, it is a geography lesson, not a history one." He gently reminded, and Timmy flashed him a sheepish smile, obediently quieting down—a lovely show of the progress he had made on the boy's behavioral aspects. Timmy had the bad tendency to allow his focus to jump around from one thing to another when his interest was caught; it was like a game of catch going on in his brain—the ball getting tossed to one player, then to another, then back to the original player and then tossed again to yet another player who wasn't even originally part of the game, and then off in every which direction.

It was important for him to learn to focus on what was supposed to be focused on, even if something else interesting presented its self—his struggles with ADHD would significantly improve if he was able to master that skill.

"After we won the war, and the kings died—we Fey began to look back on the humans and the sacrifices that had been made of them in order for us to achieve our victory…some felt remorse, others gratitude—while others wished to continue the experiments that went on in those days, or began to think that humans were the same as livestock and made use of them whichever way they wished to. This divided Fey into Seelie and Unseelie Courts…the Dark Days came, when Fey wantonly misused their magic and humans were preyed upon constantly. Another division came when many Fey decided to divide themselves from their darker impulses and split into fairy and Anti-fairy beings…" He thought for a moment, but considered against going into details about the Darkness and the barrier, if he did, then this really would end up as a long history lesson rather than a geography one. "These days our world is divided into five distinct territories in Fey world, we call them Wreaths."

"Wreaths…" Timmy repeated and stared at the illustration of the five Wreath-Emblems in the book, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Think of a Wreath as several land masses being headed by one principal Queen; and this Queen has seven subordinate queens ruling directly under her, each in charge of their own Circle, and each Circle contains nine Rings or—villages—within its boundaries."

"So that is—-" Timmy began counting on his fingers; he waited for a little while for him to solve the math problem on his own. It took a while, but he managed to get the answer, after recounting his fingers a few dozen times. "63 villages in each Wreath…."

"Correct!" He offered praise, and Timmy's face lit up. The math had been relatively simple, something a boy his age might typically grasp more easily; however, highlighting this, or failing to acknowledge his effort, could either make the child feel unintelligent or disheartened. Timmy thrived on positive reinforcement, striving harder when praised but prone to quitting if his efforts were ignored or belittled. He planned to discuss this with Wanda in the comprehensive psychological report he had compiled on the boy, drawing from the insights gained through exploring his memories and their shared experiences.

"We are all part of Queen Aine's Wreath." He pointed to an emblem, continuing the lesson.

The wreath in the book was lush and overflowing with sunflowers, wheat stalks, and apples, as if it couldn't contain the life bursting from it. Golden ribbons snaked through the vines, glittering like sunbeams trapped in knots.

"It's pretty…almost like it's glowing."

He smiled with a hint of pride. "A Wreath's emblem holds great meaning to the Fey that fall under it—perhaps you can think of it as the patriotism one feels when looking at their country's flag?"

Timmy nodded, his eyes wandering over the image, taking in the details of the golden emblem that almost seemed to glow on the page.

"Queen Aine is all about plenty—food, joy, life itself. Some even refer to her as the Fey Queen of life. Serving under her are the Queens Mab, Cliodna, Lí Ban, Brigid, Caer Ibormeith, Fand and Eithne. Each Queen governs under a different principal, which is in alignment to the forces that Wreaths Queen controls. Queen Mab's Circle, for instance, is focused on the well-being and care for not just Kinders but for all little human children. Each Ring has their own way of following their Queen's will—here, we coddle our cute Kinders, making sure they have all the happiness and love they were never given in their human lives. In our neighboring Ring, Ciorcal na mBriathar, all Kinder are in the form of babies-either because they were given the Fey as such, or because they had lived lives that were so traumatic that this is the state they can be happiest in as Kinder."

He saw Timmy really absorb these words; no doubt that Baby game Wanda played with him was springing to mind—of course, he'd rather have his daughter-in-law and grandson come to live with him in Bailena Leanbhanna Draiochta; but the Ring of Ciorcal na mBriathar was a close neighbor—all who fell under Mab's Circle were as close as siblings, whilst those who were in the Circles of the other Queen's who fell under Aine's rule, were akin to dear cousins.

"Are you having a little problem with the Gaelic? Would you like me to use the English translations?"

"Yeah, I can't even pronounce most of these places…." Timmy admitted apologetic, and he laughed.

"I must admit to enduring the same problem; but after some study I eventually mastered it-after one hundred years."

Timmy giggled. "I think it would take me a thousand."

"—Well, if you become a Kinder, you'd have plenty of time to learn; Lilybeth is still learning, and she's been a Kinder for 3000 years."

"Wow, Kinders really do live a long time…."

3000 years was nothing at all for a Fey, but for a human…most of which did not reach even a hundred years, it must seem impossibly long…

"Well, using the English, Bailena Leanbhanna Draiochta would be, Village of Magical Children, and Ciorcal na mBriathar would be Circle of Words."

"Circle of words?" Timmy questioned; perhaps he thought the village would be named after babies.

"It symbolizes how the most meaningful of words are the ones that are left unspoken—how babies and their caregivers communicate with no words at all and yet form the deepest of bonds."

Timmy nodded slowly, no doubt thinking of his bond with Wanda, but also thinking of how this communication had failed to happen with his own biological caregivers.

"We will keep the focus of our lesson on Queen Aine's Wreath for today, but I'll briefly introduce you to the other Wreaths." He did not want to overload the boys mind with too much information at once. He pointed to the wreath stationed next to Aine's. It was woven from willow branches and studded with feathers and delicate flowers; a seamless circle of soft blues and lavender, as delicate as a sigh and as intricate as a dream. River stones and amethyst glinted among the flowers like hidden wisdom waiting to be found.

"This Wreath belongs to our fellow Seelie Court Queen Danu. Whilst she and Queen Aine may have some disputes, we are allies. Queen Danu is known as The Queen of Wisdom, and believes that nature ought to be perfectly balanced—that everything has its place and time, even the bad."

He crinkled up his nose and jabbed his thumb at another Wreath that decorated the page. It was a wreath of blackthorn twisted, thorny and sharp, its blossoms dark as midnight. Tiny raven feathers poked from the brambles, and silver thread wound through it like moonlight caught in a snare.

"That is the Wreath of Queen Nicnevin, head of the Sula Si and the Queen of Black magic; she is of the Unseelie court and the greatest enemy to all those who follow Aine and Danu." He gestured to the next Wreath with equal distaste. It was stark and jagged, the sharp birch branches twisted like frozen bones. No flowers here, just frosted holly, brittle thistles, and the glint of antlers rising from the cold tangle where embedded tiny glass shards sparkled like icicles caught in the first rays of a winter morning. "And this is the Wreath of Queen Cailleach, known by some as the Queen of cold and destruction and known by others as the Soul Slayer queen. She searches for knowledge the way a wolf searches for prey—relentless, without mercy."

"So…Aine and Danu are the good guys and Nicnevin and Cailleach are the bad guys?"

"That's correct, but—dear child, never forget to put Queen before their names, alright?" He gently corrected the extreme faux pa; in Fey world not putting the title before a ruler's name was the greatest disrespect one could show—and Piper tended to do it brazenly towards Mab, but even she wouldn't have the gall to leave out the Queen address when referring to Aine.

Alas, a little human child, likely use to using the first name of their country's president on a normal basis, did not even realize its mistake.

"Right, so Queen Aine and Queen Danu are the good, nice queens, and Queen Nicnevin and Queen Cailleach are the evil, scary ones."

Oversimplified to the max, but—he supposed that it was correct; and frankly, this interaction was just so darn cute that he was sure that all four Queen's would have been amused rather than offended had they witnessed it.

"What about this fifth territory, Grandpa?" Timmy pointed to the last wreath, positioned in the middle of the page, and was likely very familiar looking to him; purples and pinks, wishing stars and rainbows—the Fairy World aesthetic.

"That is the Wreath of the domain of Queen Titania and Oberon. Currently, it is governed by a surrogate, Lady Morning Dew, Oberon's elder sister. The rulership will transfer to them once they attain the age of one million years and ascend to Fey. These lands are where most fairies, upon becoming Fey after a million years, choose to dwell."

He had tried to remain impartial, but Timmy was an observant child and tugged on his arm, giving him a questioning look. "You don't like it?"

"Unfortunately, a significant number of individuals, even after undergoing their own transformation into Fey beings, possess a divisive mindset, perceiving themselves as superior to those of us who never became fairies or experienced a premature Fey transformation. While they take pleasure in portraying us as immoral wrongdoers, it is their Circle that truly exhibits lawlessness—absence of a Principal, absence of guidance—where influences from all four Queens blend together, akin to a hot pot concocted by a group of individuals with idiosyncratic tastes."

"….I'm sure that if Wanda and Cosmo come to live in Fey world once they hit a million, that they'll want to be here and not in some snooty, elitist place."

He smiled warmly at the boy, whose understanding was limited, but who still tried to reassure; how similar to Jullian…a sweet child who could not stand to see anyone sad…

….How could that sweet boy of grown up to let his own daughter become so miserable?

— Wanda's POV—

"Wanda, dear, can you hear me?"

She looked towards the little radio in the room, startled, as she heard Nova's voice issue forth from it. The same radio he had used to communicate with her when she had first arrived in this so called relaxation room.

Relieved to pull away from Glimmer and Rosehip, who had decided to take it upon themselves to give her an unwanted makeover, she rushed over to it, taking it into her hands, trying to keep her voice leveled. It was about time for their usual video message, so why was he speaking through the radio? Had something happened?

"Nova…? Is Timmy ok?"

"Oh, he's quite well, my dear, absolutely fine! We are just finishing up our daily lesson. As you're aware, our video call is about to begin, but there's a small matter I wanted to discuss with you beforehand. I wouldn't want to catch you off guard during the call, or raise the dear boy's expectations, only for them to be disappointed by a negative response."

Relieved that Timmy was alright, she allowed the rest of her emotions to bubble up to the surface, but prevented them from overflowing at the last moment. "Nova, we really need to speak—"

"I am fully cognizant of the extent of your anger, my dear, and I am prepared to willingly accept whatever manifestation your fury may assume. I do hope however for your civility as I present the justifiable reasons for my actions, before any potential retaliation. Furthermore, let us wait for a time until Timmy is at rest and unable to overhear us; he really is quite a sensitive boy…."

"Fine," she grumbled, "but just so you know, no matter what you say, you'll end up on the receiving end of my largest frying pan—Hold on a second...! How are we speaking in real time? I thought the video messages were because real-time conversation wasn't possible with the time difference between the rooms?"

Gizmo's ears perked up at her question, and her eyes lit with the unmistakable gleam of someone about to show off. She hopped onto a chair, rubbed her hands together, and began speaking at a rapid clip, as if the words were trying to escape faster than she could spit them out.

"Oh, it's fascinating, isn't it? You're thinking: 'How can he talk to me in real time if time moves slower in there, right?'" She twirled a finger in the air, already lost in thought. "Well, the trick lies in the manipulation of information flow rates, and there's actually precedent for this—ever heard of time dilation in relativity?"

"Oh no, not again…." She clutched her head and saw several other Fey do the same. Actually, only the Tooth Fairy seemed interested.

"So, in Einstein's theory of relativity, the faster you move through space, the slower you experience time. And it's not just theoretical—it's proven! They've sent atomic clocks on planes, and the ones flying high at speed ticked slower than the ones left on the ground! Now, think of the recovery room. It's like being in a localized time dilation bubble—but in reverse! Instead of going super-fast to experience time slower, we've... hmm, let's say we've stretched the room's temporal field so that everything there takes longer. A week for them, two hours for us. But—" She jabbed a finger upward, eyes wide. "The information—the radio waves—still needs to cross the boundary between two different time zones, right?"

"Does it have something to do with how communication relies on frequency?" The Tooth Fairy ventured a guess, receiving scathing looks from everyone else for having encouraged Gizmo's explanation.

"Bingo! The radio signals we use are like electromagnetic waves. Normally, if time were slowed down in there, their voices should sound either stretched and warped to us outside the room or compressed beyond recognition. But! We cheat." She gave a manic grin, as if pleased by the very idea of cheating physics. "What we've done is to modulate the frequency of the signal right at the boundary of the room, at the interface where their time meets our time. See, when their voices travel through the radio, they hit that boundary and get processed by—" She paused for dramatic effect, "—an enchanted temporal refractor! Think of it as... um, an automated translator for time differences."

She cast a deadpanned look over at Gizmo. "….You know, you could have just summed all that up with 'magic did it.' "

Glimmer and Dazzle both laughed, whilst Gizmo rolled her eyes.

"Yes—but no! It's only sort of magic." She said this in such a way as if the distinction was something painfully obvious. "The refractor adjusts the wavefront phase alignment to compensate for the temporal shift. It's like a Doppler effect, but not quite. You see, the rate at which we experience time and the rate at which sound waves propagate are still linked, even if the experience of time itself is stretched. The refractor takes that stretched-out signal and recompresses it at the exact frequency your time zone expects. So, their words reach you as if they were speaking at the same time. It's like sending light through a prism. The light changes, but it still stays light—the information isn't lost, only altered. The refractor ensures the signal is delivered clean on your end, no matter how much time they stretch in there. Of course, the signal has to be tweaked constantly—because, y'know, time's always in flux in magical zones. But! That's just a matter of tuning the refractor on the quantum field level. Easy-peasy!"

"…In the future, just stick to 'its magic.'" She rubbed her temples, and Rosehip patted her shoulder.

"We've been telling her that for centuries, darling. It's hopeless."

"Yeah, and have you noticed that when she goes into these rambles is the only time she doesn't pepper her sentences with the word, like, I mean, what's with that?" Glimmer pointed out.

"Yeah, this girl should come with a medical advisory—converse with Gizmo at your own risk—side effects include mental overload." Piper remarked dryly, and Gizmo hopped off the table she had jumped up on, puffing out her cheeks.

"You guys are, like, no fun…."

"Ahem—" Nova cleared his voice. ""Anyway, regarding my question: would you allow Timmy to have some company? I thought about inviting a Kinder over to play with him for a while..."

"Ooh, me? Me! Me!" Lilybeth sprung up off of Ariafern's lap, eyes twinkling, and Edmund leaned forward expectantly.

"Oh,—um, I'm sorry you two; but…Timmy is a little frail right now, and you both are a bit more on the…rambunctious side. I was thinking little Walter, he'd be more up to Timmy's speed…"

"Aww….first I don't get to go to the feast, now I don't get to play." Edmund crossed his wings grumpy and got chided by Aelar while Lilybeth looked disappointed.

"Aw, Walter is always being given special treatment…"

"Now, now Lilybeth—you know very well that you get carried away easily. Walter is delicate, just like Timmy, so they'd be able to play together more easily, and besides, Walter is... well, you know, his Turning is coming up." Ariafern reasoned.

'…Turning…what does that mean?' She wondered, was it yet another thing about Fey world that she did not understand and would need to worry about? Yet another hidden danger awaiting Timmy that she would need to protect him from?

"….Oookay. Will I get a lot of special treatment too when it comes time for my Turning?"

"You will, cupcake. Each one of you does, when the time comes." Piper spoke softly, in a soft, gentle tone that she did not even know that woman could take.

"But that time won't be for long while for you yet, so lets not talk about it." Ariafern cuddled Lilybeth, kissing her cheek, making the doll-girl giggle.

"Well….I don't know…" She hesitated, trying not to be offensive. "…They all seem like great kids…but….apparently one of them mentioned to Timmy about how fairies once they hit a million years old—-well, lets just say it lead to Timmy asking me point blank about a very sensitive issue…."

"Oh, that was Lilybeth." Ariafern admitted and the doll-girl put her hands over her ears, looking worried she might get yelled at. "I scolded her afterwards for that."

"…Sorry -lady! I didn't know it was bad to say that…."

"Yeah, that's a real taboo subject for fairies." Dazzle cringed. "And getting asked that by your god kid must have been super uncomfortable but, you know, Fey do not really understand why fairies find that subject so off limits, and both Elowynsong and Alderwing were never fairies, so they never thought Lilybeth better than to talk about it."

"I see…." She wondered if it was truly an innocent slip of the tongue, or if it was just merely being made seem that way.

"I must admit, I was quite surprised when Timmy showcased his knowledge on that matter to me in conversation. I apologize, my dear, but I assure you, Walter is not as indiscriminate in his speech as our endearing Lilybeth." Nova's apology was delivered in such a sincere and respectful tone that any response other than 'it's alright' would seem unjustified.

She did not want to say yes, but she was unsure of how to say no without coming across as disagreeable and, 'unreasonable', it would not do her well to undo whatever little progress she had made in having these Fey think she was beginning to trust them. She thought back to Walter, a Kinder who looked as though he were made from wood, moss and mushrooms; the one Queen Mab had treated with such extra favor.

"Well…alright…"

"Oh, excellent!" Nova looked happy. "I have already contacted Thistledust, I'll have him bring our dearest Walter by; until then, lets move onto our video message, shall we?"

"…One moment, Nova…can't we have the video call live? I mean, if we can speak live, then it should be possible to have the video live as well?"

"Oh, video signals! Brilliant stuff!" Gizmo clapped her hands together, eyes sparklingly.

"Oh no! Not again!" Glimmer hung onto her ears with a groan, and she slapped her forehead whilst Rosehip cried out for an off-switch.

"Okay, okay, so here's the thing—video signals are like... well, imagine your favorite movie. It's not just one long image, right? It's made up of frames—little snapshots of time—flicking by at a steady rate, usually 24, 30, or 60 frames per second. To display those frames properly, the TV or receiver has to decode them exactly in sync with the signal—otherwise, you get flickers, glitches, and artifacts, like a bad slideshow! And here comes the kicker: if time's moving differently in two places, like between us in this room and them out there. The frames would either speed up or slow down, making us look like jittering goblins or, worse, stretching us into eternal slow motion! It'd be an absolute disaster—like watching a video buffer on old-school dial-up. Now! How do we fix that? Well, remember how I said audio waves get refracted at the time boundary? Same thing with video—but way more complicated! You see, video signals rely not just on frequency modulation but on encoding formats. We have to account for frame sync, chrominance shifts, and interlaced fields. And if the time discrepancy isn't managed perfectly..." She made a buzzing noise, flicking her hands outward. "Boom—video feed goes haywire! Ever seen a video where the audio doesn't match the lips? Now imagine that—but with the entire timeline out of sync. Nightmarish!"

"Our brains are going to go haywire if you don't shut up…." Piper groaned, whilst Aelar claimed his brain had long since 'boomed', and of course this lead back to a joke about how 'The god mother might explode.'

Apparently use to ignoring heckling, Gizmo continued with the explanation no one, asides from the Tooth fairy, was interested in.

"But we solved it! Oh, we solved it beautifully. Our enchanted temporal refractor doesn't just realign audio—it performs packet recalibration for video streams too. When the signal passes through the time boundary, the refractor buffers the frames on a sub-quantum level, recalculating the frame intervals to match your time zone. It's like... uh..." She scratched her head for a moment. "Imagine a river flowing faster on one side than the other. The refractor catches the fast side, slows it just a smidge, and spits it out smooth on the slower side—no ripples, no distortion. For video, that means we preserve the frame rate, the color accuracy, and—oh!—even the audio-visual synchronization!"

"Oh, I get it! So you create something like a phantom buffer zone between the time streams." The Tooth Fairy proclaimed and frankly, if looks could kill, she'd probably be dead a million times over, with the looks she and everyone aside from Gizmo cast her for the unforgiveable crime of extending Gizmo's explanation.

"Exactly!" Gizmo beamed. "Every video frame and audio packet is routed through this buffer, recalibrated, and then broadcast to your end. So you see it exactly as if we were in the same time flow. Elegant, right?"

"Oh, so you're saying the refractor adjusts the video like buffering a livestream?"

"Stop encouraging her, please, for the love of our brains!" Glimmer practically fell on her knees beside the Tooth Fairy.

"Exactly!" Gizmo crowed, bouncing in place. "Except way cooler, because instead of internet lag, we're battling temporal drift and quantum phase shifts! And no stuttering! No screen tearing! Just a seamless video between two completely asynchronous points in space-time." She clapped his hands together with glee. "Oh! And it's adaptive too—because magic doesn't follow the same bandwidth rules as, say, fiber optic networks. If there's a sudden time fluctuation, the refractor recalibrates on the fly. No dropped frames! Ha!" Gizmo leaned back, panting from excitement, her grin wide enough to split her face. "And that is how we manage real-time video across time bubbles."

"…Seriously, just say, 'magic did it'." She felt like tearing out her hair. "So…Nova…why are we not speaking in real time during these video messages?"

"Um….so that…I can…censor things….?" Nova's voice came out small, hesitant and sheepish, like a child caught stealing a cookie.

"…"

Piper laid a hand on her shoulder, looking more sympathetic than she had ever seen her. "Should I get the powder, in case you explode again?"

"I having a feeling that it might be a good idea to keep it on hand…" She rubbed her temples. When she finally did have that 'conversation' with Nova, she'd conjure the biggest frying pan she could muster, and even that wouldn't be half-way big enough.