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!

49. Chapter 49 Video Messages

Chapter 49: Video messages

—Nova's POV—

He watched Timmy as he sat on a smooth, flat log at the campsite, positioned just a few steps away from the nearby hot springs. Timmy was bundled up with both his coat and blanket, his small hands wrapped around the thermos, cradling the warmth as he finished his soup. The three little Appapuffs were sitting by the boy's feet, allowing the campfire to dry them off; the little red one had fallen fast asleep, with the blue nodding off; only the yellow stayed wide awake, watching the flames with big, bright eyes.

They always took a brief pit stop here during their walk to give the boy a chance to finish the contents of his thermos, but mostly—so that they could watch the campfire together..

It was a quaint little campsite, nestled among towering pine trees whose branches swayed gently in the breeze. The nearby hot springs filled the air with the soothing sound of water bubbling and trickling over smooth stones, creating a natural lullaby that blended with the crackling of the fire. The ground was soft, covered in a blanket of pine needles and moss, giving it a plush, earthy feel beneath their feet. A square pink and blue tent with a transparent roof sat to the side waiting for the evening when they decided to sleep beneath the stars rather than in bed.

He would have done so already, but the boy was in such a frail state and so vulnerable to the cold that he feared overexciting him or making him ill. It would be just one of many activities he'd look forward to doing with his new grandson once he got a little better.

In the center of the camp, a ring of large, flat stones encircled the fire, where flickering flames danced in the cool evening air, casting a warm, golden glow over the surroundings.

There was something inherently soothing about watching the flames flicker and dance. He had learned over time that the hypnotic rhythm of the fire could ease a mind weighed down by stress and anxiety, promoting mindfulness and a rare stillness. Focusing on the flames allowed the brain to disengage from constant worries, offering a momentary reprieve. For humans, fire had always evoked a primal comfort, a connection to their ancient past, when it meant survival, warmth, and safety. He understood now that the fire wasn't just a source of heat—it was a balm for the soul.

But he hadn't always grasped this.

Back when he was Julia's godfather, she would sit in the dim light of her tiny apartment, her eyes transfixed on the flickering candles that had to light her home when the electricity was cut off because of unpaid bills. He could still see her staring at those tiny flames, her long hair almost brushing the table, and each time, he would pull her away.

"Be careful, Julia! You'll burn your hair, or worse, the whole place down! You hardly need to light so many! Your dad will get angry at you for wasting them like this. Anyway, there is no need for them. Just make a wish, and we can put the electricity back on for you."

In his mind, the fire had only represented danger. He hadn't stopped to consider what those moments of watching the candles did for Julia, how the soft glow had soothed her when life became too hard to bear. Instead, he only saw the potential harm. He didn't realize how deeply watching the flames helped her to relax, to escape, if only for a moment. He had just rationally thought, 'just turn the power back on with magic'. Yes, the electric company would always notice after a while and think the power was turned back on by mistake and shut it off again; and since it was against the rules to wish for money, it wasn't as though they could wish the bills were paid but—the time it took for the electric company to notice that power was restored when it shouldn't be was always a few weeks or longer.

He had not realized at all that Julia enjoyed watching the candles; that it had nothing to do with the power being off; but of course, she wasn't allowed to light the candles otherwise as they needed to be conserved for when the home had no power.

He had thought he was helping her by telling her to wish the lights back on. He had not meant to stop her from experiencing a source of comfort. Furthermore, Julia had noticed something he did not—-whenever the lights were eventually shut back off, when the electric company noticed them back on…it worsened her father's mental state, which in turn affected her emotional one.

Such a horrible oversight on his part—one of many that had led to such tragedies.

Breaking the silence, he asked gently, "Timmy, I know we'd need Wanda's approval, but would you like to have a little camp night with the Kinders once you're feeling better? You can roast marshmallows and hot dogs, tell ghost stories?"

Timmy blinked, looking up from the fire, a small, shy smile creeping onto his face. "The kids I met seemed really fun..." he started, his voice soft as he gazed back at the fire. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers tightening around the thermos. "...But do you think they'd still... y'know, like me if they got to know me better? I... I'm really different now than I was in those stories your wife sent them... and... well, even back then, when I wasn't... like this... I didn't have many friends. Some even called me a bad friend."

His heart ached for the boy. Timmy's voice was filled with uncertainty, and he could hear the deeper pain behind his words. The fear of rejection. The lingering scars of abandonment. He knew those feelings all too well from his time with Julia.

"They'll like you just fine," He reassured, his voice calm and steady. "Every one of them has faced their own battles. They understand how much emotional wounds can hurt. None of them would judge you for what you've been through."

He could feel Timmy relax slightly, though the boy still didn't seem fully convinced. He was careful not to push him too hard. Many of the Kinders had come to them in far worse conditions than Timmy, but he knew better than to say that aloud. Comparing one child's suffering to another's was a dangerous trap. It minimized their pain, made them feel as if their struggles weren't valid, or worse, induced guilt for feeling the way they did. It was an attempt at comfort that almost always backfired.

He had learned that lesson the hard way with Julia.

"I know it's bad, Julia," he'd told her once, trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how. "But at least your daddy doesn't beat you like Martha's does. He's struggling now, but at least he cares for you..."

He thought he was helping, that by pointing out her father's love, he could make her feel better. But what he had actually done was invalidate her pain, making her feel as though her suffering didn't matter because it wasn't as severe as someone else's. Instead of offering comfort, he had deepened her isolation, as if her struggles weren't worthy of empathy.

By the time he realized his mistake, it was far too late to undo the damage.

He wouldn't make the same mistakes again. He wouldn't let Wanda make them either—he would protect her from the burden of regret that still weighed so heavily on him.

Timmy deserved the kind of support that he had failed to give Julia. He deserved the guidance he had failed to instill in Jullian.

His sweet god-grandson sat on the log, staring into the campfire as the flames flickered and danced. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, his voice low and a little bitter.

"I used to love camping with the Squirrely Scouts," he began, eyes fixed on the fire as if too afraid to meet his gaze. "I really thought my dad became a troop leader to spend more time with me. You know, one of those father-son bonding things." He let out a small, hollow laugh, shaking his head. "I really, really believed it…that he had become troop leader just to be with me." He paused, taking a slow sip from the thermos, before continuing. "But then he made me quit. Said that someone with my 'condition' was too dangerous to bring outdoors. ADHD or not, I'd never caused any problems before. He just decided out of nowhere that I was a risk, that I might put the other campers in danger or something….and that it would make him look bad." Timmy's grip tightened on the thermos as he stared at the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes. "Turns out, he only became a troop leader to gain some local clout. He thought having a leadership position in the Scouts would look good to his boss, show off his 'capabilities'. It was never about being with me at all…."

He watched as Timmy exhaled softly, the weight of his admission hanging in the cool air.

"Your father is an idiot who doesn't realize what he tossed aside." He stated, allowing his personal feelings to briefly take over his professionalism. He would have loved to take his boys camping…

"I feel more like the idiot for believing he had ever joined for my sake; and you know, my mom became the Cream Puff troop leader just to fill the void of not having a daughter. I don't know which one hurts worse—the parent who only saw me as a tool to get ahead, or the one who tried to replace me with the child they wish they had instead."

Timmy's voice trembled as he poured out his deepest pain and disappointment. His trust in his father's affections shattered. His mother's attempt to fill a void, a painful reminder of her longing for a child different from the one she had.

He felt a mix of sympathy and anger well up inside of him, though the words were no surprise, seeing what he had seen in the boy's memories. Over and over again, Mr and Mrs Turner prioritized their own images, ambitions, wants, and fun over their child's happiness.

…Julia had once longed to see the popular musical "Pippin" and dreamed of seeing it with her father who had wanted to see it just as badly…but he had only scrounged up enough money for a single ticket—-which he gave to Julia, rather than keep for himself. They could not see it together, but they had enjoyed some time together, as Julia recounted the entire performance to him when she got home.

….Timmy's parents had the boy wait anxiously at home whilst they went to buy tickets for a baseball game the entire town was excited for….and came home with the 'best tickets in the stadium'….but because they were so expensive they could only afford two, and left Timmy at home whilst they went themselves.

There had been many infuriating moments that had left him seething, but this was one of the worse simply because of the comparison he could make.

His dear Jullian…hadn't grown up to be at all what he had wanted him to be, but…at least he was better than the Turners!

"I'm so sorry, Timmy; you do truly deserve parents far better than what you were given."

"….I'm sure they'd be great parents….to a different kid." Timmy put his head down.

"And you'd be the ideal child to different parents. I know for a fact that Wanda would love nothing more than to have you as her own. Sometimes, the family we choose can become our genuine family….so you do have parents who love you, and a baby brother who adores you, and now, a grandfather who cherishes you."

"Hmm, yeah…." Timmy flashed him a smile, but then lowered his eyes, downcast. "But someday I'll be forced to forget about all of you. It's so terrifying to think that someday the only ones who ever loved me will be erased from my mind completely and….what of my feelings for them? The idea that….I won't love them anymore hurts so much…."

"…" It would be tactless to bring up becoming a Kinder now, but it would solve so many problems. "Timmy, although you may not recall them, the affection you hold for your loved ones and the affection they hold for you will forever endure in your heart."

…..Had his and Stella's love remained in Jullian's heart? If it had…it hadn't helped him much.

The enduring love in Timmy's heart for a family he could no longer remember would not suffice to shield him from the harshness of the world; the bitterness of adulthood would erode any remaining positive feelings from distant days. Yet, for the moment, the poor boy needed to believe that what lingered within would be sufficient to comfort him...

The boy had no need to be afraid, though; because he would not lose his memories, because he would not allow Timmy to grow up.

This poor boy deserved to be rescued and to live a carefree existence as a Kinder, free from worries or troubles—the entirety of his existence devoted to receiving unconditional love and pampering—-after many years of neglect and suffering, he deserved to be amongst the children who had been saved from their humanity.

Hopefully, he could persuade Wanda to eventually see things his way. If not, he'd claim him anyway, for if she still refused, even after he explained everything, then she'd be as unfit as Mrs Turner to be this dear boy's mother.

—Tannfe's (Tooth Fairy) Pov-

"Wanda, maybe you should try to relax a little. You look... tense," she suggested hesitantly, her voice laced with concern. Since getting that schedule from Nova, Wanda had seemed ready to burst—either into flames or confetti, and not from magical buildup, but from sheer frustration.

"Don't tell me to relax." Wanda's tone was sharp enough to cut glass, a clear warning that any further suggestion might just end in an explosion. With an exasperated sigh, she flopped down on one of the many plush chairs and flipped through a fashion magazine she'd grabbed from the cozy, well-stocked shelf.

She tried to lighten the mood. "I know it's a bit off-topic, but don't you think Fey fashion is beautiful? The jewelry from this place called Ciorcal na mBriathar is just breathtaking—maybe it's the baby-tooth theme that gets me, but it's really something special." She attempted a smile, hoping to bridge the gap, but Wanda clearly wasn't interested in fashion talk.

She eyed Wanda's outfit—plain black slacks and a simple T-shirt. Of course. She really should've known better than to try to engage her in a conversation about clothing.

"Do you want me to take your breath away?" Wanda snapped, her eyes dark with irritation. "How can you be focused on fashion right now?" She ran her fingers through her hair, trembling.

"Look, Wanda..." She closed the magazine and frowned. "I know this is all awful, but there's nothing we can do right now except wait. Getting upset isn't going to help. If you're not careful, Nova might decide you need more 'relaxation' and slow down time in here—unless you want your two hours to stretch into 200, I'd suggest calming down."

Wanda groaned, flopping down on the couch with such force that it bounced slightly. "Why did you leave Timmy alone with Nova? I wasn't thinking clearly, but you should've known better!"

"Hey!" She smacked the magazine down onto the coffee table, knocking a few snacks to the floor. "Don't you dare pin this on me. How was I supposed to know the door wouldn't lead back to the same room? I came here to help you! What would you have done, taken care of his treatment with Anti-Wanda's recklessness? And why were you Linking so intensely, anyway?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it," Wanda muttered, rolling over to face the back of the couch, refusing to look at her. Pouting, she picked up the magazine again, flipping through pages without even seeing them.

She sighed. "Look, I know you're upset, but pointing fingers won't help. All we can do now is wait and hope Timmy's alright."

"If he's not okay... I don't know what I'll do…" Wanda's voice was barely audible, muffled by the plush pillow.

"No sense worrying about what hasn't happened yet. Think positive! Nova wouldn't risk making you, Cosmo, or even Poof upset. If he made Cosmo sad, Stella would be at his throat, and Poof wouldn't forgive him for taking away his big god-brother. He's not going to let his whole family turn against him, so I really doubt he's planning on stealing Timmy away."

"Y-you think?"

"Of course!" She forced a smile, even though a part of her didn't fully believe it.

In reality, if Nova could convince Timmy to give him a Token, he could bide his time, waiting for the right moment to claim him. It could be years from now, or even when Timmy was old and gray. But there was no use in telling Wanda that—it would only make her more anxious. Right now, all they could do was hope Timmy wouldn't be foolish enough to give Nova anything of his.

Suddenly, one of the televisions in the room flickered to life. Wanda nearly jumped off the couch as Nova's smooth voice echoed through the room.

"I bid you a pleasant evening, dear Wanda, and extend the same salutations to you, Tannfe. I thought it important to let you know our pleasant evening stroll has come to a close. We had an exceptional time. Wouldn't you agree, Timmy?"

The screen showed Nova in dark green silk pajamas with gold piping and a monogrammed "CC" on the chest, a nightcap with a golden tassel hanging playfully down his back. They were in the fluffy pink recovery room—just where Wanda desperately wanted to be. Timmy was propped up by plush pillows, smiling at the camera.

"The evening walks are always fun! We pass by all sorts of places in the garden!" Timmy's voice was cheerful, though tinged with weariness, his excitement putting strain on his weakened body. He propped himself up on his elbows, expression bright despite the pallor of his cheeks. "There are some amazing spots I can't wait to show you, Wanda. I want us to do the maze together—they have an Innsmouth theme available! I can't wait until I'm better... There's so much I want to do with you."

Wanda's face softened, her eyes misting over. "Oh, Timmy… He looks so frail." She moved closer to the TV, placing her palm gently on the screen. "This is my fault, isn't it? I shouldn't have overexerted him..."

"Wanda…" She hesitated, unsure of what to say. She knew telling Wanda that it wasn't really her fault, that it was because of the Linking wouldn't help her stop blaming herself. At least Timmy didn't seem to hold his worsened health against her….

Timmy continued, his voice brightening as he spoke. "Most of the time during our walk, we stop at the hot springs. Then we go to a campsite and watch the fire for a bit. It's really cozy—reminds me of camping with Dad and my friends back when things were... better." His voice trailed off, a wistful smile lingering as he remembered better days, and fading as he remembered those days were gone and not coming back.

Suddenly, three fuzzy creatures leapt onto the bed, cuddling Timmy, who began to laugh, their antics forcing him back against the pillows. It seemed that the slightest sign of a frown had caused them to leap into action to make him feel better. It was cute but…..were those more examples of….children the Fey had turned into animals for eating fruit without permission…?

"Cease that behavior at once. No Tickle-Tackles," Nova chuckled, scolding them gently before turning back to the camera. "These three little ones adore him. They accompany us on our walks, and Timmy quite enjoys their company."

Timmy nodded. "Sometimes, we stop at an outdoor reading nook, and I read to them. They fall asleep while I read. I think you'd love it there, Wanda—there's so much here we can enjoy together, even before I get all my strength back, and once I am better, a whole lot more!"

"That's right, Timmy... Keep your spirits up," Wanda murmured, her hand still resting on the screen. She watched as Timmy continued describing his adventures, tears welling in her eyes.

"To end the evening, we went to the pavilion for a late-night snack. I had Revel Soup during our walk and then a slice of fresh bread with honey and this tasty cheese spread. And, um... tournament milk?"

"Turmeric milk, my boy, and it was ricotta cheese," Nova corrected gently.

Timmy grinned sheepishly. "Right, turmeric. Anyway, Grandpa's snacks are always so good. I used to ask for my usual bedtime snack—chocolate chip cookies and milk—but his ideas are really tasty! But nothing beats your special hot chocolate, Wanda. Promise you'll make me some when we walk the garden together?"

"I will, sweetie. I promise," Wanda said, her voice breaking slightly, as though imagining him safe and happy.

Nova spoke, his voice calm. "I understand it may be overwhelming, dear Wanda, to hear all we have done in what seems to you like so little time. It has been a two-and-a-half-hour investment for us, however, and I assure you that I will provide you with updates every morning, afternoon, and evening; which, when you consider the difference in the passage of time between our two locations, means that you should be getting an update from us in but a handful of minutes."

"Wait..." Her brows furrowed. Something wasn't adding up. If the room's time was passing at one week inside to every two hours outside, then the time difference seemed off. She tried to work out the math in her head as Timmy's cheerful voice filled the room.

"Grandpa is taking good care of me, Wanda. You don't have to worry—I promise we haven't left the recovery room, and nothing enchanted has been given to me. He hasn't asked me for anything either, not even a strand of hair. So please, don't worry."

Nova nodded solemnly. "I vow on Queen Mab's name that I will neither ask for nor accept any Tokens from him at this time, nor will I remove him from the Recovery room and its protections. I genuinely wish to bond with the dear boy." He hugged Timmy. "My god-grandson is one of the most endearing little humans I've ever met."

"We're having so much fun, but I miss you tons! I know it hasn't been long for you, but you miss me too, right?" Timmy asked, looking directly into the camera.

"Of course I do, sweetie..." Wanda whispered, her voice thick with emotion, resting her forehead against the screen. The video paused, and a second TV clicked on, a red "record" button glowing in the corner.

Wanda hesitated for a few moments, her eyes widening as if considering her next words. She knew that anything she said would be altered, but in just the span of a few blinks, she was in front of the screen, pouring her heart out to Timmy. She begged him to be careful, asked about his health, apologized for her actions, and repeated how much she missed him over and over again.

But in her rush of emotion, she clearly hadn't noticed the blatant lie woven into Nova's story.

She stepped up, nudging the blubbering godmother aside with surprising gentleness. Wanda's heartbroken expression faded to confusion as she gave Nova a suspicious, scrutinizing glare through the screen. With her arms crossed tightly, she tilted her head.

"Your math isn't adding up, Nova!" she said with a mixture of skepticism and authority. "Earlier, you said that by the end of this two-hour period, it would equate to a week in the Recovery Room. So that means time runs at a ratio of 84:1—84 hours inside for every hour outside. But if that's the case, why did it take fifteen minutes for us to receive a message after your 2.5-hour walk? At 84:1, that means we should have received the message after only 1 minute and 47 seconds!" She placed her hands on her hips triumphantly, challenging him to worm his way out of her calculations. "So, care to explain that, Nova?"

Wanda blinked in confusion, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to follow along. "Wait… what…?" she muttered, her eyes darting between her and the screen.

She sighed and looked at Wanda sympathetically. "Okay, Wanda, let me break it down for you," she said, her voice adopting a patient yet firm tone. "Time in the Recovery Room runs at a ratio of 84:1 compared to outside—so every hour out here is equivalent to 84 hours in there. Timmy and Nova said they'd send messages three times a day—morning, afternoon, and evening—which roughly breaks down to every eight hours inside. Now, considering a day inside the room is only about 17 minutes and 8.57 seconds outside, you'd expect a message to arrive every six minutes if we estimate three messages in that span."

"Uh-huh…?" Wanda still seemed lost, her brow furrowed.

"So, with the 84:1 ratio, if we multiply it over the span of 3.5 days—roughly 84 hours—inside, you get approximately ten and a half messages in an hour outside. Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Tooth Fairy, how do you send half a message?' Well, it's just statistical rounding! On average, you'd expect 10 to 11 messages per hour out here. It's not literal, but we're talking math estimates!"

"Uh, right…" Wanda blinked again, her head tilting slightly, almost as if she was either processing or shutting down.

"Now, if they're sending around ten messages per hour, that means roughly every six minutes out here, you'd get one. And if we wanted to be precise, it'd be every six minutes and 2.88 seconds." She paused, trying to gauge if Wanda was keeping up, but Wanda only stared blankly.

"It's all about multiplying and dividing based on the ratios of time dilation." She tapped her forehead as if reminding herself of the basic arithmetic. "Two hours outside equals 168 hours inside. That's a week. They're sending messages three times a day, and their days are only about 17 minutes each, meaning every six minutes, we should be getting a message from them."

"Point is," she concluded, her eyes narrowing at Nova's image on the screen, "the walk that Timmy and you took lasted 2.5 hours, but it took us roughly about fifteen minutes to receive a message. It should have only taken one minute and 47 seconds. Care to explain yourself, Nova, or are you going to censor me?"

The recording button flashed off, and the screen began replaying the message with Nova's "censorship" applied. Wanda's desperate, emotional words were suddenly polished into a much calmer version. Instead of pouring out her anxiety, she appeared to be making a composed inquiry about Timmy's well-being, politely asking about his activities, and expressing how enjoyable they seemed. She even thanked Nova for the "thoughtful schedule" he had proposed.

Wanda clenched her fists, her frustration evident as she took a few steps away from the screen, as if trying to resist the urge not to punch it. Hearing herself thanking Nova for that awful schedule was far more than poor Wanda could take.

However, she couldn't help but notice her own words had been left 99% unaltered, except for the mention of the censorship. It seemed Nova wanted to ensure Timmy believed the "calm, happy" messages were the true ones. It seemed that Nova was not going to avoid or ignore her accusations. However, unexpectedly, Nova burst into laughter, while Timmy blushed, his cheeks reddening as he tried—and failed—to suppress a guilty grin.

"Now, now, no lies were told." Nova said between chuckles, "I do believe young Timmy mentioned in our first video that 'at first, time was like in the cafe, and then when your treatment took longer than expected, I quickened the pace.' And I clearly stated, 'at the end of your two-hour rest period, we'd have spent a week here.' Factoring in the three hours your treatment required for Linking, time was indeed running slower."

Timmy rubbed the back of his neck, looking ashamed. "We… we actually spent three months together," he admitted. He looked like a puppy caught doing something mischievous, his eyes wide and remorseful. "We were going to tell you! I promise! We just didn't want you to worry…"

Nova nodded, his demeanor turning a touch more serious. "Indeed, that was our intention. The boy genuinely felt guilty about keeping it from you, but I reassured him that causing you unnecessary distress would only hinder your recovery."

Wanda's face turned a shade of crimson as she growled, conjuring a doll of Nova. She twisted its neck so hard that the button eyes popped off. Oblivious to the violent assault on his likeness, Nova continued in his typical calm, slightly lecturing manner.

"The reason it took fifteen minutes rather than one minute," he explained, "is because altering the time flow abruptly would have been significantly disruptive to Timmy's sleep cycle and sense of temporal equilibrium. Timmy's safety must come first. I'll set it to the 84:1 ratio once he wakes, ensuring a stable time transition. Does that satisfy your concerns?"

"Three months!?" Wanda gasped, her hands still clenched around the mangled doll. "He spent three months alone in there with Nova!?"

The record button flickered back to life. Wanda, still too stunned to find the right words, snarled at the screen.

"Nova! Stop this, now! I don't need more time to recover! Let me see Timmy immediately!"

That was Wanda's contribution. However, the she still had plenty to say, and she wasn't backing down.

"Hold on, Nova," she said, her eyes narrowing. "This still doesn't add up! Wanda told me about that café—one second outside equaled an hour in there, which means three hours outside equals 10,800 hours or 450 days. If you only sped up time after Wanda fainted, then you should have spent far longer than three months together."

The recording ended, and the playback began for Nova and Timmy. Wanda, who had been in reality throttling a Nova doll, was now tenderly cradling a small doll of Timmy in her arms.

"I miss you so much, sweetie, that I couldn't help but poof up a cute little toddler-doll of you to keep me company." The Wanda on the video spoke sweetly, and Nova put a hand to his mouth, chuckling whilst Timmy's face softened into a warm smile, his hands clasping over his heart. "Aww… Wanda, that's so sweet."

"Oh, give me a break!" The real Wanda huffed, flinging the Nova doll away, still visibly irritated.

Her part of the message had gone unaltered this time, and Nova sighed, a faint, almost reluctant smile on his lips. "Yes, yes, Tooth Fairy. I slowed time to a 1 second versus 1 hour ratio, but only while the boy was asleep—to ensure he had ample rest to aid his recovery. Once he awoke, I adjusted it to 720:1—one hour outside became 720 hours or 30 days inside. That's how it currently operates, but we will switch to the 84:1 ratio once this day ends, for Timmy's well-being. Does that answer your question?" He paused, then added with a smirk, "I must admit, I hadn't known you were such an adept mathematician, Tannfe."

The record button flicked on again, and she puffed her chest out proudly, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I'm the Tooth Fairy! Collecting teeth, keeping track of how many baby teeth kids have, handing out coins—of course, I'm good at math!"

"Do you really need to be that good at math just to collect teeth?" Wanda asked, looking up at her, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Of course! It's part of the job! Don't believe me? Okay, let's take California as an example. There are roughly 5.4 million children under the age of twelve—most of whom still have baby teeth. Each kid loses about twenty teeth on average, right? So let's say, very conservatively, that 40% of that population has teeth that need collecting at any given moment. That's… 43 million teeth. And who, may I ask, counts those teeth? Keeps a precise ledger of which kid's lost what?"

"Uh…?"

"Me of course!" She continued without missing a beat. "And of course, not all teeth are equal—bad teeth get a nickel, good teeth get a dollar. Assuming about 10% of those teeth are bad, that's 6.48 million bad teeth. At a nickel each, that comes to around $324,000."

Wanda's expression shifted from surprise to mild horror.

"And as for the good teeth," She said, her voice rising with a hint of triumph, "the remaining 58.32 million teeth get a dollar each, which means… $58.32 million!"

Wanda's jaw dropped. "Wait… you're telling me you handed out nearly 60 million dollars just for teeth in California alone?!"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Pretty much. It's all in a day's work, Wanda. I've got to make sure every kid gets their fair share, right? And remember, California is just one state. I'm managing teeth operations for kids across the entire world! You think I can't handle a little time math?" She shot Nova a knowing look, a small smirk curling at the corners of her lips.

Wanda blinked rapidly, her gaze shifting between the Tooth Fairy and Nova. Then, slowly, she took a cautious step back, her face a mixture of awe and alarm. "That's… actually terrifying."

She chuckled, "Welcome to my world. Even Jorgen can't handle my work load!"

As her message began playing back on the screen, her explanation about the logistics of tooth collecting came through loud and clear without any censorship.

On the other end, Timmy looked like he had gotten lost halfway through her detailed breakdown, his eyes glazing over as he tried to follow along. His head bobbed slightly, and he almost dozed off—only to snap back to attention when he heard the grand total of money spent on teeth in California alone. Nova, meanwhile, wore an indiscernible expression, though by the end of the message, a faint flicker of unease passed across his face.

The camera feed cut back to Timmy, who stared at the screen, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. "Where do you get all that money?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper. "Are you in charge of some kind of Tooth Mafia or something?"

She burst out laughing as the record button flickered back on, and Timmy leaned forward eagerly, eyes wide with curiosity. He seemed genuinely intrigued by the possibility of her being part of some clandestine tooth-related organized crime syndicate.

"Pfft, a Tooth Mafia?" She rolled her eyes, her laughter settling into a playful smile. "What would that even be?" She shook her head as if amused by the thought. "No, no, it's nothing outrageous like that!"

She paused, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes. "It's really all about diversifying. I sell some of the collected teeth as premium calcium to supplement companies. I've got investments in real estate near dental schools—locations that are in high demand, believe me. Plus, I own several patents for kids' dental products, you know—those cute toothbrushes and flavored dental floss? Yep, that's all me."

Wanda's eyes widened further, and she stared at her incredulously. She continued, enjoying the reactions she was receiving.

"Oh, and I have a few of my subordinates posing as human influencers on social media—doing brand deals and endorsements. And then there are the tech-savvy fairies who are into cryptocurrency mining. It's all perfectly legal, and it's incredibly lucrative. A girl's gotta keep things running smoothly without breaking a sweat, right?"

The screen cut back to Timmy, who was clapping his hands numbly, his expression almost dazed. He looked too shocked to even muster any real surprise.

Nova, meanwhile, seemed to shrink back a bit from the camera, as though he were genuinely spooked. His eyes widened, and he glanced from the Tooth Fairy to Wanda, then back to the screen.

"…Tannfe… you scare me," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

She simply grinned, her wings fluttering in delight. "And that, Nova, is why I'm in charge of the teeth."

Let anyone even try calling her a bimbo again after this!

—Piper's POV—

"I think Nova is going to drive that poor godmother insane at this rate. Yes, I do think so. But, of course, after her shameless behavior, a little punishment is in order, though I do understand she was Linking. She still ought to have had more sense. Still, Nova is being a bit too heavy-handed. If he took my Dolly from me and made me wait in another room as they did this and that together—oh my, it would eat me alive, especially if she were still human. I'd be fearing every moment that he'd be asking for a Token, or giving her bits of his flesh or blood to make her love him over me. Or maybe even taking her out of the room and giving her a Fey fruit—yes, all those worries would be going through my mind. But of course, no one can take my Dolly away from me anymore and—"

She resisted the urge to slam her medical text into her head. Bubbles had abruptly barged into her clinic, managing to find her way into the examination room. Without even waiting for a hello, she laid Dahlia down onto the examination table, and since then, she hadn't stopped talking. Bubbles had come with questions about a "new treatment" idea she had dreamed up, completely convinced it would work, despite the lack of evidence and relying solely on gut intuition.

As she made a show of considering it, Bubbles continued to prattle on, her words turning to the latest gossip in the village: Nova's recent behavior towards Timmy and his Daughter-in-law.

Even she had to admit—she was about 60% on Wanda's side in this whole fiasco. Nova was right about one thing: Timmy's physical state was precarious, enough to warrant safeguarding him from anything that might make it worse, including preventing another panic attack at all costs. Wanda wasn't in the best emotional place right now, and it was possible she might trigger one accidentally.

So, yes, she agreed with keeping them separate until Wanda got better control of her nerves.

But for everything else?

Yikes.

Nova had definitely crossed a line. Spending nearly a year diving into the boy's memories? That was extreme. Yet she could understand why. The poor guy had been starved for a family for so long that it wasn't surprising he got carried away. Especially after the Tooth Fairy stupidly compared Timmy to Julia. When she had brought the injured Appapuffs to Nova to check on, that was all he could talk about.

"So, what do you think?" Bubbles' question jolted her back to reality.

"It's a mess."

"How?" Bubbles' jaw dropped in disbelief. "I gave this idea a lot of good thought. I waited patiently to ask you my questions about it, and you don't even think all that long about it? You ought to look into it better than that, I'd say. Here I am spending hours of deep thought on it, and you dismiss it so quickly? It's not really fair, it is not. Maybe you should give it a bit more consideration?"

"Oh, no, I was thinking about Nova. Your idea..." She took a deep breath, hissing slightly. "It's..."

"A remarkably clever idea, isn't it? Could it not work?"

"It's incredibly high risk, plus it's outright soul tampering. If I tried what you're suggesting, I'd be kicked out of this Ring—no, the entire Circle."

"Isn't what you're doing with Timmy 'soul tampering'? It's more than that, it's—!"

"He came to us in his condition. We had nothing at all to do with it." Piper interrupted, not in the mood for one of Bubbles' tantrums. "If we do nothing, he will die. That's why Mab gave me permission. And as much as I like flaunting my genius, I don't even know if I'm going to be successful! The kid's heart is—ugh, literal pure magic from Fey World is being sucked into him! We don't even give Kinders pure undiluted Fey magic, and the way his body is reacting to the filter cycle—I can't even guarantee what's going to happen to him, let alone replicate it in Dahlia!"

"But wouldn't she handle it better because she's already been made partly Fey? She ended up like this because her human body couldn't handle the magic. But if we change the way her heart works, the same as Timmy's, wouldn't that help her develop compatibility with the magic and fix her body? Wouldn't it work that way? If she sucked in pure Fey magic from the world itself, it could fix her up. It's worth a try, is it not?"

"Insist on it all you want, but as I said, I don't even know what's going to happen to Timmy with this treatment. I need to stay vigilant with him—I can't afford to create a second high-risk, unpredictable patient and end up with my attention divided. Trying to do too much at the same time is the same thing as doing nothing at all."

"Oh, of course, I don't mean at the same time, not at all! I would never risk my Dolly, but wait until after the boy's treatment. You'll know the rights and wrongs then, and fix any mistakes that happen. And of course, if you're not successful with him, we'll just drop the whole idea. I don't want any risk of anything bad happening to my dear Dolly."

She put her fingers to her forehead, frustrated. "Fair warning—don't talk like that in front of Nova."

"I'm not scared of him, I'm not. Oh, so he has a bad temper—well, I'm not scared of a bad temper. Never was, never will be. My parents and siblings had bad tempers, always yelling at me. They were. My ex-husband had a rotten temper too. Dolly's parents were the same—yell, yell, yell. But she and I—we never yelled at each other, we didn't. That's why we make such a wonderful family. Just let Nova try to 'lose his temper' with me. I don't care one bit if he does; not if it can help my little Dolly."

'Your funeral, literally,' She thought, shrugging. She glanced at the pitiful figure of Dahlia lying on the examination bed. It was hard to look at that twisted bundle of deformity and think that it had once been a child. "Look, I want to help Dahlia, I really do. But even if Timmy's treatment is successful, and we can replicate it, it's still high risk. Plus, we'd need Mab's permission."

"She will give it, won't she? To help my Dolly—she lets me stay in her Circle just because she wants Dolly treated, so she wouldn't stop her from being treated if a new treatment came up. Oh, Piper, you're always complaining about being bored, but you don't seem all that eager to try something different. Could it be you're afraid? After what happened with Jacob, I mean? No one would blame you for being afraid..."

'Oh, please, does she really think I'm going to take this bait?' She gave Bubbles a dry look. Yes, she was bored as hell, and as critical as Timmy's situation was, she was also excited by such a unique case. But she wasn't some "mad doctor" who only cared about thrills.

She took her job seriously. Exploring Timmy's one-of-a-kind condition and finding the best way to treat him and get him back to as close to normal as possible was her goal. And with the boy's state, there would be enough challenge in that to give her mind a good workout. Studying that strange Kinderkin they found wandering in their forest would be a great side diversion whenever she needed a break from Timmy's case.

She had enough on her plate for now. There was no need to put Dahlia at risk for more suffering than the poor thing was already enduring.

On a normal day, Bubbles' pathetic attempt to provoke her might have pissed her off. But after receiving the news about her mother's wings, her anger was taxed out for the day. She was too tired and worn out to get mad...everything else seemed so mild in comparison to the fate that had befallen her mother. The fate she had helped bring about by curing Mary-Alice.

"Oh, yes..." She forced a tearful expression and added some sniffling noises for effect as she answered Bubble's attempt at provocation in the way the woman had least expected her to. "There are some who still blame me for poor little Jacob. I know Alethea was in shock, and that her accusations were all emotional. But because of how much she detests lies, everyone believes her—even she believes her own lie. I've only earned back the trust of maybe 30% of the Ring. If I lose another patient in an experimental procedure, I'd probably be exiled completely. No, with how fond everyone is of Dahlia, I'd be kicked out of the Circle entirely if I caused her more harm. So I'm afraid, Bubbles, I just can't proceed with your idea unless I'm completely certain it will work."

Bubbles seemed completely lost as the baiting she had been certain would rouse her indignation instead brought on a tearful admission of fear and regret. It was all she could do not to laugh at the bewilderment stamped on the idiotic woman's face as she grasped her hands and gave her a pleading look.

"Bubbles, we're friends, right? You'll keep this a secret, won't you? I don't open up to just anyone about my vulnerabilities... It's just, after what happened with Jacob, I'm afraid a second mess-up and...I'll never be able to live up to my mother's reputation in everyone's eyes. So, please be patient. I will do all I can to help Dahlia, but I can't proceed unless I have good reason to believe it's safe."

"O-oh, y-yes, o-of course! I...I understand...it must be...be very difficult for you...I'd be afraid too if...if everyone would judge me if I made a mistake... It must be hard having a mother to live up to... I went through that... It wasn't easy...I…I'm sorry for…for pushing you…I…um, I..was unaware of um…I should have been more considerate…I…just never knew you took it so…so hard."

"Oh, yes, I do act thick skinned, but it's all bravado, you know. Such accusations…hurt so bad!" She put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, the noise that came out and got mistook for a sob, causing Bubbles to become even more flustered and apologize profusely for her insensitivity, while promising to never bring up the matter of Jacob again and clumsily tried to console her with the most cliched lines imaginable.

She, however, managed to hide her amusement and thought to herself, "Crisis averted." As Bubbles continued to ramble on, it seemed that any further attempts to push Dahlia's "new treatment idea" had come to a halt, at least for now.

Nova's POV

"Sweet boy..." Nova watched as Timmy laughed and played with the three Appapuffs and his friends from the Snuggle & Cuddle room. The scene before him was heartwarming—Timmy rolling on the grass of the meditation garden, pushed playfully by Hector, while Billy raced around the multi-colored crystals in a game of tag. Maria used her powers to create small light shows, dazzling pictures that reflected off the vibrant crystals, while Fredric hopped from crystal to crystal, playfully evading Hector, who was "it." The three baby Appapuffs observed the spectacle from a nearby herb garden, having already been tagged earlier when they jumped onto Hector's back for a ride, earning them an immediate out.

Timmy, however, wasn't quite able to race around with the others; his frailty made that impossible. Instead, he leaned against a tall, pink crystal that emitted soothing sea wave sounds, attempting to meditate. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, he hadn't made much progress. His meditation had been interrupted when the Companions decided to turn the garden into their playground. Only Ginnie had remained considerate, sitting quietly in the herb garden while watching over Timmy. He made a mental note to give her some baked apple treats later for her good behavior.

Now, Ginnie kept an eye on the baby Appapuffs to prevent them from causing further distractions for Timmy. But... he couldn't help but laugh softly as Timmy abandoned meditation entirely, embracing the laughter and cuddles from his friends. He knew the boy wouldn't be returning to his meditation attempts anytime soon.

During a typical morning, Timmy would be preparing for the painful Magical-Filter-Cycle treatments. In hopes of giving him the skills to better endure them, he had structured meditation practice at this time of day. While Timmy hadn't made much headway with meditation, he didn't think it was wasted time either. Timmy had made countless happy memories in this garden, playing with his friends. This morning was no different—there was a newfound lightness in Timmy now that he'd seen Wanda with his own eyes and knew she was truly okay.

The previous night, Timmy had fallen asleep with a peaceful expression, and this morning, he awoke as if he were the embodiment of spring itself—a smile radiant as the first warm day after a long, harsh winter.

He had initially felt some guilt over censoring Wanda's messages, but seeing Timmy's serenity had assured him that he had made the right choice. Also, as valuable as his relationship with Wanda was, he had needed time to make other connections aside from her. Watching Timmy laugh and play with the other children—Hector, Billy, Fredric, Maria, Ginnie, and the three baby Appapuffs—made it clear to him that these companions had become irreplaceable to the lonely boy and that he had made the right call.

He shook his head slightly, his heart heavy at the thought that in the human world, this dear boy had no friends. That poor child, labeling himself a bad friend when, in truth, none of his so-called friends had been particularly good to him. He had seen Timmy's memories, and it had left him appalled at the way they had treated him.

Timmy had given AJ a computer as a gift—a very expensive gift, even if it had been conjured up with magic. And yet, AJ had literally thrown the computer away moments later because a newer model had been released. AJ had no idea that Timmy could just wish for it; for all he knew, Timmy had saved up a fortune to buy that computer. But, of course, no one ever called AJ selfish for tossing it aside—no, that label was always reserved for Timmy.

And that was when they were still so-called friends. When AJ joined the "super smart kid" clique in junior high, he had completely cut ties with Timmy, considering him as nothing more than "academic dead weight." AJ even went so far as to say that associating with "someone like Timmy" would damage his reputation for college applications.

Chester had once been a sweet boy, but fame quickly corrupted him as soon as he had gained some recognition in baseball, thanks to a wish Timmy made. They had made up, but—there had been many times when Chester and AJ had mocked Timmy when it suited them, laughing along with the crowd, leaving Timmy behind when things got too tough. Despite that, when Timmy couldn't be there for Chester or AJ, Timmy alone got stuck with the label of being an awful friend.

The friendship Timmy had with Chester gradually begun to fall apart when Chester began hanging out with a bad crowd. The hoodlums had branded Timmy, a coward for refusing to join them in acts of vandalism, and other petty crimes. They had taunted Chester for hanging around with a 'wimp' and Chester gradually began distancing himself from Timmy, hanging out with him only when his new friends weren't around to see.

The final blow to their friendship came when the hoodlums pressured both Chester and Timmy, when they caught them hanging out together, to shoplift. Timmy had been so nervous and afraid that he had taken an anxiety attack in the store; which sadly proved to be the perfect distraction for hoodlums to swipe whatever they could get their hands on—oblivious to the security cameras recording everything.

….Timmy hadn't stolen anything and yet the entire incident was pinned on him, and Chester had sided with his new friends. They claimed Timmy had been the ringleader, and his anxiety attack had merely been a planned distraction—leading people to label Timmy's future attacks as faked. The adults of Dimmsdale, dim-witted as they were, quickly bought into the lie, blaming everything on Timmy's ADHD.

Chester had apologized to Timmy in private—but how could Timmy accept? Because he would not speak the truth, everyone in Dimmsdale now treated him like a thief, a lair and a faker.

—-And that was how Timmy had lost his best friend.

After that incident, Timmy only had two friends left. Sanjay, who had once harbored a crush on Timmy, and Elmer had become his friend after Timmy had stood up for him. However, as time went on, they too turned their backs on him.

Sanjay had been upset when Timmy had rejected his confession in the politest way possible for an awkward prepubescence boy, and whilst initially acting like all was cool between them—had used this incident as justification for abandoning Timmy when things got too rough. Elmer, afraid of becoming a target for worse bullying himself, distanced himself from Timmy to avoid trouble, having no courage to stand by him alone. It was easier for Elmer to drift away than to remain loyal to the boy who had defended him.

"Haha! Guys, that tickles! Aww, I'm trying to meditate, haha!" Timmy laughed as Hector, determined to give him a big cuddle, knocked him back down when he tried to sit up.

His heart softened at the sight of Hector Kristo—now a cuddly Kaleifir—who had suffered from Down syndrome long ago, in a time when the condition did not even have a name to go by, and therefore no understanding of it either. His parents had worked the poor child like an ox, treating him with even less respect.

"It makes me happy to see you and my dear little ones getting along so well. Hector's been having so much fun with you." He smiled. Hector was now finally being treated with the love and respect he had always deserved.

"I've been having fun with him, too." Timmy grinned. "He gives the best bear hugs!"

Frederic leaped onto Timmy's shoulders, nuzzling his head against Timmy's cheek with an affectionate squeak.

"Aww, you give good cuddles too, Freddie!" Timmy returned the nuzzle.

Frederic Schneider, who now lived as an adorable Sprigglehop, had once been a child constantly reminded by his mother of how he'd ruined her life. A single mother, she made it clear every day that his mere existence had stolen her happiness. The cruel words had left deep scars. But now, as a Sprigglehop, he received all the affection he could want, and he was well known in the village for hopping onto any Kinder or Fey to snuggle.

"Oh, that tickles!" Timmy howled in laughter when Billy started licking his other cheek and nuzzled him with playful affection.

Billy Bauer, now a loyal Fuzzhorn, had once been one of fifteen children born into a struggling household. Born for no other reason than to be free labour on his parents' farm, he was always stuck with his siblings' chores and getting blamed for mischief that wasn't his. Billy's childhood had been void of love. But now, he was no longer at the bottom of anyone's pecking order.

"Mew, mew!" Maria, too dainty for rough play, flitted between the crystals, creating enchanting light shows. The reflections off of the crystals made the garden glow in mesmerizing patterns.

Maria Jensen, now a Luminix, had a story that struck a particular chord with him. Her twin sister, Mary, had suffered from an incurable cancer, and her parents lives were consumed by Mary's illness. Though Maria had always been patient, kind, and supportive, one solitary outburst—born of countless broken promises and moments of being forgotten—led her to be unfairly labeled as a spoiled, self-centered child. Now, as Maria fluttered about, seeking the attention she'd never received in life, she was happier than ever.

Timmy related to all of them. Each had suffered in their own way, misunderstood and mistreated for reasons they couldn't control. They'd faced judgment, misunderstanding and abuse from those who should have loved them most, and now they found solace in each other.

He took this chance of the boy's time away from Wanda to nurture the bond between him and the Companions—they needed each other.

"Timmy, I believe the moment has come for us to send Wanda another video message. Come over here with your friends and give her a cheerful and generous smile."

He called to him sweetly, conjuring a camera and a small television. Timmy's face lit up, his smile as bright as sunshine.

"It is important to keep in mind, dear boy, that while we have had the opportunity to avail ourselves of a complete night's repose, engage in our morning stretches and grooming, embark on a leisurely stroll, and partake in a nourishing breakfast, Wanda has only had a few minutes of respite since our last correspondence." He reminded Timmy, who nodded.

"I'm so glad she wasn't mad at us spending three months together; it's so cute how she poofed up a doll of me just to show she wasn't mad," Timmy said, sitting by the pink crystal with all the Companions gathered around him.

He smiled gently, harboring a truth that Timmy couldn't fathom. The doll Wanda had wasn't the one Timmy had seen. Instead of a charming baby doll resembling her godson, she had crafted a crude likeness of him to vent her frustrations. The truth would devastate Timmy. Sometimes, albeit harsh, a bit of censorship was necessary... yet, he couldn't help feeling apprehensive about his forthcoming encounter with his daughter-in-law, given the condition of the doll.

"Timmy, how about you give these three babies a name?" He suggested, his voice gentle as he looked at the two Appapuffs on his shoulder, one red and one yellow, and the blue one perched atop his head. "They're your friends now, after all. It would be nice for them to have names." Normally, only first-generation Companions were given names, and the ones that weren't originally human only received names when adopted as pets by someone for a prolonged period. Kinders, in particular, were fond of adopting them. "You could think of them as your pets, caring for them whenever you're here in Fey World. You'll be coming often for your treatments, and these little ones adore you."

Timmy blushed, shuffling his feet slightly. "I… I'd like that, but… you know, I'm not very good with pets… I…"

"Stella told me all about that." He lied, feeling a foul taste instantly fill his mouth, making him grimace. In truth, Stella hadn't said a word about Timmy's pets. Rather, he had experienced those painful memories firsthand while delving into Timmy's mind. But he could never admit that—revealing such an invasion of privacy would only leave the boy feeling betrayed.

Fey were known for their aversion to lies. They could lie, of course, but doing so always came at a cost—a literal taste of disgust. Depending on the nature of the falsehood, it could range from the soured tang of rotten fruit to something as vile as putrid meat, or even worse. Nova quickly masked his grimace with a comforting smile, not wanting Timmy to misunderstand.

"—Eddie, your gerbil, wasn't your fault. Neither were your kitty, your bunny, your ferret, your ocelot, your puppy, or your parrot. No matter what your mother says, it wasn't because you didn't take good care of them. It was because your parents didn't feed them while they sent you away to camp."

The unfairness of it burned at him. He loved animals, whether they were magical creatures from Fey World or ordinary ones from Earth. The abuse those pets had suffered due to neglect was unconscionable, and seeing Timmy's memories had filled him with fury.

Timmy's shoulders slumped, his voice barely a whisper. "But they were my pets… so it was my responsibility to take care of them…"

He shook his head, his gaze softening as he spoke. The decision to go to camp and leave them behind was not made by you. Your parents made the decision to send you there during every spring break and summer as it proved to be a more convenient and cost-effective alternative to hiring a babysitter on a nightly basis. It was their responsibility to care for the pets in your absence. Listen to me, my dear boy. Fey encounter a repulsive taste in their mouth as a consequence of being dishonest. I can confidently assert, without any the faintest ill-taste on my tongue, that you bear no responsibility for their unfortunate fate."

Timmy blinked, his eyes growing wet as he looked up hopefully. "R-really?"

"Really." His heart ached with pity for both Timmy and the poor animals. It was appalling that Timmy's parents had blamed him, branding him 'irresponsible' and falsely claiming the pets had run away due to his negligence.

It was a cowardly way to shift the blame, damaging Timmy's self-esteem and exacerbating his fear of abandonment. Furthermore, considering that the pets had starved from neglect, it was chilling to imagine what might have happened to Timmy without his godparents.

During the year he'd endured under Vicky's so-called care, before Cosmo and Wanda had been assigned to him, the boy had resorted to scavenging from the trash. Even at ten years old, he'd faced similar circumstances when his godparents were occupied with fairy duties away in fairy world or caring for the newborn Poof. And through it all, his mother could only chuckle at the sight of her son rummaging through the garbage, musing aloud whether she should start cooking for three.

Nova took a deep breath, pushing those dark thoughts aside. "Take the initiative, child, and designate names for these three little ones. After that, we can start recording the message to Wanda."

Timmy hesitated for a moment, then smiled shyly. "Alright… the red one can be Cinna, the yellow one… Miele, and the blue one… Cream." He paused, stifling a giggle. "Almost named that one Cheese."

He chuckled, noting the simple but endearing theme. "You named them after their scents, didn't you?" The little Appapuffs wiggled excitedly in response, clearly pleased with their new names.

"I did not know you knew Italian," He said, gesturing to the yellow Appapuff, whose name was the Italian word for honey.

Timmy puffed out his chest with a hint of pride. "Wanda taught me a few words! I can't speak full sentences, but… I can kinda order off a menu."

A laugh bubbled out of him, and the joy in Timmy's eyes made his heart swell. Around them, the other Companions seemed to find amusement in the naming process. They chirped and snickered among themselves, and he couldn't help but notice Ginnie looking particularly relieved that she had avoided being named 'Vanilla.'

He now turned on the camera, capturing Timmy's radiant smile as he sat surrounded by his new friends. He hoped, dearly hoped, that Wanda—despite her current frustrations and distress—would take comfort in seeing Timmy's happiness. It was a simple joy, but it was real, and perhaps that would be enough to help her through the dark times ahead.

Wanda's POV

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

The thought echoed in her mind, replaying over and over like a broken record as she lay listlessly on the couch, staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. She could feel the cool fabric of the couch beneath her, the faint vibrations of the clock in the room, ticking away like the passage of time itself—an agonizing reminder of how helpless she felt. The days Timmy spent away from her were slipping by faster than she could keep up with, reduced to a handful of minutes in her perception.

All she could do was wait for the next video message. The only comfort she had left, but it was a comfort that also brought equal pain. Before she was done mulling over what Timmy had said in one video, it was time for another—morning, afternoon and evenings speeding by so fast that it made her dizzy.

It felt like she was reaching out, trying to hold onto something that kept slipping away.

Timmy's face would light up on the screen, smiling brightly, his expression shining with warmth and joy—he looked happy. It should have made her feel better; seeing her godson's smile should have been a balm to her heart. But instead, an unfamiliar fear crept in—a cold, dark feeling that wrapped around her heart.

What if he found more happiness with Nova than with her?

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

The thought tried to comfort her, and yet it filled her with a deep sense of self-disgust. She wasn't supposed to think like this—but this possessive, indulgent thought kept rising to the surface, no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

The feelings she had during the Linking... they weren't what she truly felt. She was Wanda, the loving godmother, who wanted the best for Timmy and all her godchildren. Their happiness—Timmy's happiness, came first.

She wasn't supposed to be jealous or possessive. But the bond her boy had formed with Nova made jealousy curl around her like a thorny vine, tight and suffocating.

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

She wasn't this kind of person. So why...? Why did she feel this way? The Linking was over. This awful thought shouldn't still be in her head.

A high pitched, overly sweet, syrupy voice interrupted her thoughts. "It's like, going by fast, it'll like, totally be over soon, so, feel better, ok?"

"Fast, my ass..." She mumbled, her voice low and irritated.

The Tooth Fairy shot her a scandalized look, wings fluttering in indignation. "Wanda, language!" she scolded, a mix of shock and disapproval in her tone.

She sighed, crossing her arms and sinking deeper into the couch, her eyes narrowing in a sulk. The Tooth Fairy had been lounging comfortably, nibbling on calorie-free sweets, without a care in the world. She had been chatting away happily with Gizmo—a Fey Nova had invited into the room to keep her company after her over-enthusiastic math rant had accidentally exposed one of his little tricks. Nova claimed that Gizmo loved math and would enjoy speaking to someone as passionate about it as Tannfe.

She knew better. His real motive had been to keep Tannfe distracted, to make sure she didn't catch onto anything else he didn't want her to know—or disrupt the video messages.

As much as she wanted Nova's deceit exposed, the knowledge came with a heavy price. She would have been happier not knowing that her precious Timmy had been left alone under Nova's influence for three whole months.

Timmy was in such a vulnerable state—mentally and emotionally fragile. He was easy to manipulate, so desperate for love and affection that he would cling to anyone who offered it. He was like clay, soft and impressionable, and Nova's hands could potentially molded him in ways she couldn't see or stop.

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

She tried to convince herself it wasn't jealousy; it wasn't something so petty.

It was worry. It was concern. What she felt was noble. It was….love.

She was worried about him—worried about what he might be persuaded into, about how his thoughts might be twisted, about how his behavior could change under Nova's influence. She was concerned that when she finally returned, the Timmy she knew and loved would be gone, replaced by someone she no longer recognized.

What if Nova's influence changed who he was? What if, in three months, her godson had become a stranger?

She shuddered, aware that her thoughts had taken a dramatic turn, and that she wasn't being entirely reasonable. In her defense, however, Timmy's entire personality had changed before, molded by the pain he suffered—by the bullying, the neglect, the cruel ostracization of his medical condition. He had changed so much that he barely resembled the happy, carefree ten-year-old he once was. And it had all happened in just a few months.

So, what if it happened again?

Suddenly, she understood why Cosmo had felt so left behind. He'd been there with Timmy, physically present, and still struggled to keep up with the changes to his personality. But she was stuck here, purposefully kept away from him, unable to interact, unable to keep up with any changes he might go through. She feared that by the time she returned to his side, it would be too late for her to keep up….

The thought terrified her.

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

But what if the Timmy she returned to no longer loved her as much? What if Nova had stolen it all away, just like Queen Mab had tried to do with her enchanted kiss?

And what about the Heart-Soul? Nova had never once mentioned its condition in any of the messages. Whenever she tried to ask about it, her question was conveniently censored. There was never a response, just silence.

She knew it was responsible for the Linking, and that it could theoretically be blamed for everything that had happened since. She did not not blame it though, Astral wasn't bad. It had not meant to do those things. It was just a scared baby, unable to understand what had happened to it.

Timmy and Astral... she was so, so worried about both of them.

"You ought to stop worrying so much and join in our conversation. You'd find it truly fascinating, I'm sure," Gizmo's overly sweet voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, snapping her back to the present. The Fey grinned at her, her hair a cascade of silvery pink, soft curls framing her face and crowned with delicate flowers. She had the appearance of a teenager, but appearances were deceiving—especially with Fey.

She frowned at her, her eyes narrowing with resentment. She despised having company in her current state. It was humiliating enough that the Tooth Fairy saw her like this—worn and vulnerable—but having a stranger witness her misery? It stung. Especially when that stranger kept grinning at her like she was laughing behind a mask of friendliness. Her lavender eyes sparkled, but there was a coldness beneath the warmth.

She couldn't tell if Gizmo was Fey or machine; her joints whirred softly when she moved, and there were steel plates covering her arms and legs, intricate circuitry tracing along her limbs. She wore an outfit of soft pink ruffles and a cream bodice, the whole ensemble distinctly steampunk in design. She suspected the mechanical limbs might just be a fashion statement—an aesthetic choice. Fairies could regrow limbs; there was no actual need for prosthetics.

"It might help take your mind off things. Gizmo knows some fascinating things about Fey world electronics. She had been telling me all about how radio, monitor and television communication is able to overcome the effects of time alterations between areas. It's truly fascinating," the Tooth Fairy suggested gently, her voice filled with sympathy.

She shook her head. "You both know very well I can't follow your conversation," she muttered, her voice thick with frustration. "It's all numbers and theories and calculations—like you're talking in some foreign language I don't understand."

She wasn't an idiot—far from it, but even Einstein himself would be hopelessly lost in the tangled mess of words and formulas they were using. She wasn't even sure if Jimmy Neutron could understand it! It left her feeling disconnected, as if she were drifting further and further away from reality, with nothing but her fears to keep her company.

She sighed, her gaze drifting to the monitor across the room. She was waiting for the next video—waiting for a fleeting glimpse of her godson.

The next video came on: the afternoon video of the fifth day of the last week he'd be spending with Nova. Shehad received so many videos by now, each one showing Timmy looking happy, safe, and loved...

...without her.

"Wanda! Grandpa took me to see another play today! This one was a musical called Pippin. It was so good!" Timmy greeted her with a bright, excited smile. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and his voice held that familiar warmth—one that had always referred to her as 'mom,' but not now. She knew it was only because Timmy knew that the Tooth Fairy was in the room with her, and that if he called her mom, Jorgen would find out about it—nevertheless the pang in her chest, at being called Wanda and not 'mom' was there, sharp and unforgiving.

She stared longingly at her godson, taking in his appearance, while only in minutes for her, she could see the days passing by for him from the varying states of his health to the clothing he wore.

Nova seemed to have a penchant for dressing him in little outfits—pretty clothes that were far fancier than anything Timmy would usually wear.

Today, though, his outfit was different. A plain short-sleeved, slightly faded button-down shirt, sturdy denim trousers held up with suspenders, patched at the knees. His sneakers were worn, their edges frayed, and perched on his head was a little, well-loved fedora. The entire ensemble lacked Timmy's usual pink hues; it was all muted greys and whites.

It was almost as if Nova had dressed him up to be someone else.

"It was a performance my little Jullian had wanted but never got to see." Nova had an arm around Timmy, his expression misty-eyed. Her breath caught—was that who Timmy was dressed as?

Nova—was dressing Timmy up like his former godson!?

The Tooth Fairy, standing next to her, glanced at the screen and paled, her cheeks turning a bright red before she quickly looked away. She noticed Gizmo's eyes widen as she mouthed a silent, exaggerated 'yikes.' She clenched her jaw, trying to keep herself composed. Rubbing her temples, she was fighting to stay focused as Timmy continued to speak cheerfully.

He described the performance he'd watched, done by holograms, and the great 1950s-themed American food he had devoured during the show. Her gaze wandered over the spread on the screen—a buffet of mini hamburgers, meatloaf, deviled eggs, pigs in a blanket, Jell-O mold salads, Spam and pineapple skewers, cherry pie, and milkshakes.

"There are so many plays we can choose from, Wanda! It's so cool how the food and drinks match each one of them! Let's watch and eat a whole lot together, ok?"

Nova chuckled warmly, picking up a mini hamburger and offering it to the boy. Timmy took a cheerful, big bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction, while three baby Appapuffs, the small creatures Timmy had apparently adopted as pets, nibbled on a skewer. Nova's smile was affectionate, his arm around Timmy's shoulder almost fatherly. It made her stomach twist into knots.

The sight of Timmy, surrounded by food, being fed with such care—it almost felt like Nova was mocking her, reminding her just how easily he could manipulate the boy. It would be so easy for Nova to slip Timmy some Fey-fruit, or food laced with his own essence—something to bind Timmy to him. The only thing stopping him was the contract the room was under.

But if he asked Timmy to leave... would Timmy still keep his promise to her, or had Nova earned so much affection by now that he'd follow without question?

Her time to respond came, and she climbed off the couch, her movements slow and heavy. There was no point in saying what she truly felt—it would be censored. There was no need to put on a cheerful front either; the censorship would take care of her expression, her tone, even her words. It was as if she were merely reciting lines from a script, hollow and unfeeling.

"That sounds like so much fun. I can't wait to watch the performances with you. The food looks good." She spoke mere prompts in a dull, flat voice.

The message replayed for Timmy, and unsurprisingly, it differed. The Wanda on the screen radiated smiles and laughter, her voice brimming with enthusiasm and vivacity. She talked about the plays she wished to see, particularly 'Breaking Legs,' and speculated on the themed food they might serve. She praised Timmy's "adorable little outfit" and lavished him with generous praise and affectionate remarks.

Timmy blushed and smiled, his cheeks turning rosy, and it tore at her heart. He had no idea that it wasn't really her speaking.

"Yeah, me too, Wanda!" Timmy's grin was like pure sunshine. "I can't wait to watch that play with you! It sounds like it'll be fun!"

"You take care of yourself, my dear." Nova turned to the camera, his expression soft, almost sympathetic. Dedicate some time to self-care, and before you know it, you'll be reunited with Timmy and enjoying a multitude of enjoyable activities together. It is apparent that your beloved child holds a great deal of affection for you. You are the very center of his heart."

Timmy, likely not understanding why Nova was saying this—since the Wanda on his screen wasn't sad or lonely—nevertheless beamed at the camera. He made a heart shape with his fingers over his chest and echoed Nova's words with a chipper tone. "The very center!"

Her eyes burned. Tears welled up, and she wiped at them furiously as the screen turned black. The next video message would be on in just a few minutes, but she couldn't hold back her emotions any longer.

"Hey, like, listen—" Gizmo's voice broke the silence, her tone hesitant. She shifted from foot to foot, her expression conflicted as if she wasn't quite sure how to proceed. "I'm, like, close to Nova, y'know? I was part of his, like, child-saving organization back in Fairy World—"

"Trafficking ring, you mean?" She snapped, her voice dripping with venom. Gizmo only chuckled.

"You say tomato, I say tomahto." She shrugged. "Anyway, like I was saying—I totally respect Nova, like, a ton. But even I think he's being a little... whoooa, y'know?" Gizmo twirled a strand of her hair, her gaze darting between her and the screen. "He's not, like, doing this to be mean or anything, but... Losing Jullian and Julia really hit him hard. It affected him like, big time deep, so….try not to take this, like, too personally…"

"Not take it personally!?" Her voice cracked as the dam holding back her emotions burst. "He's keeping me from Timmy! He's—he's acting like I'm some kind of unfit influence!" Her anger quickly dissolved into tears, and she turned away, her face burning with humiliation. "I—I'm a good godmother! There's no need to keep me from him, or censor me! I'm... I'm what Timmy needs! I—"

…He's so happy even without me there…..

She broke off, her voice lost in the sobs that wracked her body. Gizmo and the Tooth Fairy exchanged uneasy glances, their attempts to comfort her awkward and ineffectual. She squeezed her eyes shut, the doubts she had been pushing down flooding back.

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

...

"Timmy loves me..."

He places his trust in me; he relies on me; my love is cherished by him ... Yet, I harbored those terrible thoughts. That I was Linking is no excuse for it. I can still remember what I had thought, and what I felt—it's like a poison stuck inside my body. I found pleasure in his dependence, and his reliance on me to endure his struggles gave me a sense of validation.

Am I unfit to be his godmother? Is that why Nova is keeping me from him? Is that why Timmy is making such beautiful smiles even though I'm not there?

In the beginning,when Timmy's life started its downward spiral, her attempts to help only exacerbated the situation. Could it be that she really hadn't learned from her mistakes back then? Could she still be worsening things while mistakenly believing she was helping?

…Could she truly not trust herself?

She felt a crushing weight in her chest as her gaze landed on the schedule Nova had sent her. No matter how many times she had crumpled it up and tried to throw it away, it always reappeared on the coffee table, smooth and pristine.

Would she really need to follow that thing?

She really felt as though she were at her very limit—if even one more thing happened, she really felt like she would just explode.

— Timmy's POV—

He sat propped up in bed, scribbling in the journal his grandfather had insisted he keep. Nova had told him it was a good mental exercise to help process everything he was experiencing. Each time he wrote, his grandfather wound up the little music box to play for him. The soft, lilting melody filled the room, its gentle chimes comforting in their familiarity. He often found himself touched that Nova had made the music box with an image of him inside, sitting in a tiny, intricately carved cabin. The other child inside the miniature scene was Julia—the last godchild Nova had ever had. Timmy knew she was the reason his grandfather had done what he did—taking children away to Fey World, believing it was the only way to save them.

The classical piece the box played was one he couldn't name, but he had begun to associate its gentle notes with reflection and rest. As he wrote, Timmy paused, staring at the letters he'd written across the page. He still wasn't sure how to feel about Nova's actions. Was it right or wrong to take those children? He couldn't answer that, but he believed, truly, that his grandfather had done what he thought was right.

For now, he was alone in the room, accompanied only by the quiet rustling of Miele, Cinna, and Cream—his gentle Companions who lay snoozing near his feet. The rest of his friends were in the Snuggle Room, resting after a full day of fun, while Nova had gone out to the garden to take Clara for a walk. He was left to write in his journal, which, in truth, wasn't a secret diary at all. Every entry was a letter addressed to his fairy god family: Wanda, Cosmo, and Poof.

He liked the idea of doing this.

He had always thought keeping a diary about his time with his fairies was pointless—after all, its contents would be erased once his memories were wiped. Writing about them could even be a risk if the diary were discovered. But now, the idea of creating a journal that could stay safely tucked away in his godparents' castle—something they could keep forever—had a special appeal. Not a diary meant for him, but for them… a memento filled with his thoughts and love. Something of him that they could cherish—a testimony of his love for them, so that, even with their memory gone, his feelings for them would remain untouched, at least on those pages.

He wondered if that was something they would like.

The sound of the door opening broke him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Nova reentering, cradling Clara gently in his arms. The little creature nuzzled against Nova, her injured form delicate and meek, and he felt a pang of sadness. Clara never joined in their games or watched the performances. She seemed too frail and afraid to connect with the world around her, and their time together felt destined to end before he had a real chance to befriend her.

"Are you nearly done with today's entry?" Nova asked, his voice warm and kind. He approached the bed, his lips curving into a smile.

"Yup! I just finished." He smiled back and set the journal aside. Nova stepped over to the music box and carefully stopped the melody, poofing it away in a flash of shimmering light. He always did that—explaining that the rambunctious Companions could easily get excited and accidentally break it. While Nova could repair the box easily with magic, he said that seeing it broken, even for a short time, would wound his heart.

Nova's eyes sparkled mischievously as he transformed into his taller, adult form, his arms reaching down to lift him effortlessly. "Let's delay bath time for a bit and head out to the balcony—I conjured up a special cake just for you."

"A special cake?" He echoed, curiosity piqued. His grandfather only grinned as he carried him out to the balcony, the warm evening breeze washing over them. The balcony overlooked the garden, where the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting everything in a golden glow.

When he saw the table set for them, his eyes went wide with wonder. On the small Victorian tea table sat a beautiful cake—a delicate confection of white and gold with elegant floral designs piped along the edges. Roses of pink and green spun from sugar adorned the top with the words 'Happy 24 Hours!' written in looping script. Beside the cake were two teacups, steam curling above them, filling the air with the scent of something sweet and floral.

"'Happy 24 hours'? What does that mean, Grandpa?" he asked, bewildered as he was sat down at the table, whilst Nova conjured up balloons and colorful decorations setting up the camera for this message to record.

Nova flashed him a grin, his eyes twinkling as he settled down in the chair beside him, an arm draped over his shoulders. "We're having our video call early this evening because it's a special occasion. Timmy hasn't guessed it, but maybe you can, Wanda—though I'm betting not. Let me explain." He looked straight into the camera, speaking as if Wanda were right there.

"Right now is special because it's been exactly 24 hours—real-world time—since you both first stepped foot in Fey World! This very minute marks the first full day since your arrival!"

He blinked in surprise, his eyes flicking from the cake to Nova's beaming face. "The first… 24 hours?" he repeated, trying to wrap his mind around it.

Nova laughed heartily at his expression, the sound ringing through the garden. "Has all this slowing down of time got you discombobulated, little one? I imagine Wanda is just as shocked. Yes—you arrived on Saturday, May 22nd, at sunset, and now it's Sunday, May 23rd, at sunset. Is it truly so hard to believe that only a single day has passed since you came to us?"

He rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of the realization sink in. His head felt like it was spinning, the concept almost too much to grasp. Everything that had happened since he'd entered Fey World… all of it had taken place in the period of twenty-four hours?

"Whoa…" was all he could say, and Nova laughed again, cutting a slice of cake and placing it on a delicate plate in front of him.

He couldn't overlook Nova's bandaged hand as he moved. For three months—three prolonged months in the time-dilated room—his grandfather had tended to him despite that injury. Time for their bodies progressed at a normal rate, even as the rest of the world seemed to slow, which is why Nova's wound hadn't healed—in actuality, it had only been less than 24 hours since he had received the injury, and yet... he had chosen to bear the pain for three whole months longer than necessary.

His chest ached with gratitude and affection. Nova had endured the prolonged pain of that injury just to have more time with him. It was a gesture of love that reminded him of the lengths he had gone to himself—enduring fifty years of neglect and hardship just to stay with his fairy family.

"How is your hand feeling, Grandpa?" He asked, his voice soft. He knew the camera was recording, but he also knew Wanda would be watching, and he wanted her to understand—-Nova might have done extreme things, and there was no really saying if he was in the right or wrong, but….the things he did, were done out of love.

"Oh, it is much better," Nova replied, waving off the concern with a warm smile.

"I'm sorry you got hurt… and thank you for protecting Wanda."

"Don't fret about it." Nova's voice was gentle, and his gaze lingered on his bandaged hand. "I'd feel terrible if Wanda had to endure the debilitating effects of that cream. Besides…" He paused, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. "I think, perhaps, a part of me was curious?"

"Curious?" He asked, tilting his head.

Nova nodded, staring thoughtfully at his own injury. "I often tended to the injuries my godchildren suffered—cleaning cuts, scrapes, and worse. Their blood never harmed me before. I suppose a part of me didn't fully believe that something I had touched so often in my career as a godparent could become toxic to me…"

Timmy looked down at the veins in his arm, trying to comprehend it. "Why… I mean, why is human blood poisonous to Fey and not to fairies?"

"It's our souls that make it poisonous," Nova explained, his voice turning somber. "Fairies that are split in half don't possess one."

"…?" Timmy blinked, speechless.

"When they reunite with their other half, they gain a soul. But for those who become dust… they find only oblivion."

His heart clenched, the weight of the words pressing heavily on him. He remained silent, the cake before him momentarily forgotten.

"But don't you worry about Wanda," Nova said, his voice brightening as he glanced at the camera, a wink in his eye. "Whatever any fairy decides after reaching a million is their own private business, but… we're going to make sure she has so much fun here that she won't even consider becoming dust!"

He let out a breath, feeling some of the tension ease. "…That's good. I… I never want Wanda to disappear. Or Cosmo, or Poof. But especially not Wanda. I love her so much that the thought of her being gone forever is just too painful. I want my fairy family to be happy together, forever and ever." He knew that, one day, he wouldn't be part of that family anymore—but if they remembered him, if they kept him close in their hearts through pictures and the diary he planned to leave them, maybe he could find some peace in that.

But… what he truly wanted, more than anything, was to stay with them forever.

"Well now, enough serious talk. Let's celebrate our first 24 hours together with some cake and look forward to plenty more!" Nova declared, placing a slice of cake on the plate before him, grinning at the camera. "What say you, Wanda? Let's hold up our tea cups in celebration!"

He eagerly lifted his cup, the sweet scent of the cake and the warmth of the late afternoon surrounding them. He could practically hear Wanda's cheerful laugh in his mind, ready to join in on the fun.

But the screen remained blank. Wanda's response didn't come, and instead, an awkward silence filled the air. He frowned, slowly lowering his cup, glancing over at his grandfather. Nova's smile began to fade, his brow creasing as he eyed the empty screen. Without a word, he closed his eyes—clearly using magic to take a peek at wherever Wanda was.

Moments passed, stretching a little too long for his comfort. He watched as Nova's eyes flew open, and the older fairy's jaw dropped, his expression a mix of shock and exasperation.

"Oh... oh dear," Nova muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He put a hand to his mouth, a peculiar look crossing his face. It wasn't exactly fear—it was more like the look of someone who'd just realized they'd left the oven on... for way too long.

His stomach did a nervous little flip. "Is... is everything okay?" he asked, tugging on Nova's arm, his voice shaky.

Nova blinked, snapping back to reality. Then he forced a bright smile, waving his hand dismissively. "Ha! Technical difficulties, my boy! Nothing to worry about!"

Timmy raised an eyebrow, not quite convinced as Nova quickly cut into his slice of cake, shoveling a forkful into his mouth—as if desperate to get rid of a very bad taste. He crossed his arms, raising a brow, giving him a look that insisted he tell the truth.

"Wanda's... just had a bit of a moment," Nova added with a sheepish chuckle, "You know how it is. Burst of emotions... happens to the best of us. By the time we're done with this cake, I'm sure she'll be back, good as new, and ready to give us quite the response!" He gave a wink, though he could see a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

Timmy stared at his own slice of cake, trying to wrap his head around it. He sighed, shaking his head, a small smile forming despite himself. "Guess she did not react very well to learning that all this time…only equaled up to one full day…."

Nova nodded, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. "Indeed, she did not!"

"Poor Wanda…." He sighed as he took a bite of his cake, the sweetness melting on his tongue, and he raised his teacup to the now turned off camera. "Here's to our first 24 hours, mom…hang in there…."

Nova laughed, raising his own cup. "Cheers to that, my boy. Cheers to that."

— Tannfe (Tooth Fairy) POV—

She stood in the center of the room, which had abruptly been made over for a celebration, her face etched with distress. Colorful balloons were clustered in every corner, bobbing gently above weighted ribbons. The walls were adorned with shimmering streamers in gold, pink, and green, cascading down like vibrant waterfalls.

A banner hung overhead, displaying cheerful lettering that read "Congratulations 24 hrs!" in glittery letters.

The coffee table in the middle of the room was set with an elaborate display—a large, decadent chocolate cake decorated with swirls of frosting and edible flowers, surrounded by an array of pastries and teacups. Despite all the festive touches, her gaze remained fixed on the glittering disarray on the floor, her hands poised on her hips.

"I... I guess there was ultimately no way to censor this, was there?" she muttered to herself, her eyes shifting to the glittering pile of pink confetti, which sadly was not part of the planned party decorations.

Gizmo, standing beside her, let out a nervous giggle, her hands covering her mouth. "Oh, wow... I knew fairies could burst into confetti from magical buildup, but I didn't know anger could do it too!" Her eyes darted between the confetti and herself, caught in a bewildering dilemma—whether to erupt in laughter or to cry out in distress.

"Well, apparently we can," She exhaled slowly. She knelt beside the sparkling heap, her eyes softening as she inspected the scowling confetti, little pink pieces practically trembling with irritation. "I mean… I kind of had a feeling you were about to explode, but I didn't think you'd actually do it," she said, her voice tinged with regret. She reached out, letting some of the confetti fall through her fingers like sand. "I guess hearing it's only been twenty-four hours since you came here was the straw that broke the camel's back, huh?"

From somewhere within the glittery pile, Wanda's voice crackled, sounding grumpy and muffled. "You think?"

She grimaced, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. Before she could respond, Gizmo piped up, her voice lilting nervously. "Ooh, ouch. Uh, I'll, like, go get Piper? She probably has something that can, like, fix this up in a jiffy..." The young female fey awkwardly backed away before turning on her heel and skipping out of the room, her nervous titter echoing behind her.

Now alone, Tannfe found herself staring at the confetti that was once her acquaintance, not quite sure what to do. After a long pause, her eyes drifted to the slice of cake on the table—a rich, decadent chocolate cake, the kind Wanda loved.

With a sigh, she picked up the plate, holding it out in front of her with an awkward shrug. "Uh... Want a bite?" she asked, her voice hopeful. She gave a tiny smile. "It's your favorite, chocolate."

For a second, the confetti was silent. Then a very, very irritable voice rose from the pile. "Shove that cake up your—!"

"Okay, okay!" She squeaked, covering her ears and wincing at the sheer force of Wanda's anger, even in confetti form. "Well, that... definitely could have used some censorship," she muttered under her breath. She set the cake back down, glancing toward the door where Gizmo had disappeared.

"Hurry up, Piper, and fix this…." She whispered, stealing another glance at the pink glitter. She just hoped Wanda wouldn't explode again before help arrived.