(no subject)

[soulfulsin]

Fandom: Fairly Oddparents
Canon or AU: AU

Fic: Blank Space

A/N: Longer chapter this week. I should poke at that other fanfic I started, too. I’m also balancing reading, clearing out the house, etc.

On the plus side, things are a lot calmer (except for my cat Mittens running into my TV table for no reason).

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Spatula Woman sized Wanda up. Wanda had stopped growling and baring her teeth. Every time she showed a hint of aggression, the handler shocked her. She’d grown weary of passing out and/or being paralyzed. The blood on her head had matted, but the damage was done. It was apparent she was abnormal, even by super animal standards.

At least while being tortured, she’d discovered the key to the Crimson Chin’s about-face. Spatula Woman had procured green chintonite, which functioned like green kryptonite worked on Superman. Wanda didn’t understand how that worked, since the Crimson Chin wasn’t an alien, but far be it for her to question comic book logic.

The electric collar kept Wanda subdued and pliable; the handler walked Wanda on a leash. She felt indignant--she was ten times more powerful than these people, yet they treated her like a stray dog they intended to dump at the pound. The car ride to the abandoned warehouse district hadn’t been much fun, but it hadn’t involved a leash.

Whenever Wanda struggled, the handler electrocuted her. Once, she swore he did it for amusement, not because she’d displeased him.

Wherever she and the villains were, Wanda’s perception of Cosmo was long gone. As far as she knew, they appeared to be on the outskirts of town. The abandoned warehouses were near the piers for quick getaways. It was cheap real estate because many companies polluted the local river. Wanda had lost her sense of smell, which was beneficial. She didn’t want to know what rank things she’d passed or possibly stepped in/been dragged through.

Their destination was the warehouse behind giant bushes, overgrown grass, and sickly-looking trees overhanging the property. Unless someone was searching for it, it’d be easy to overlook. Wanda’s heart thumped painfully.

Cosmo and Timmy weren’t the best at subtlety. Chloe, if she remained with them, could help, but Wanda didn’t know her well enough to put her trust in her.

There was Tootie, but between her lack of training and dubious standing in the storyline, Wanda was also uneasy placing her trust in her.

The last she’d seen, Tootie had been with Timmy and Chloe. That didn’t mean she’d remained with them. If Tootie played the villain’s apprentice, it would make sense for her to break away. Wanda sighed. Technically, Magdalene and Nathaniel were Timmy’s fairies, along with Cosmo and Poof. Tootie was running around playing a superhero (or supervillain) with only the barest idea of how to cast spells and with no one to rein her in.

Wanda was screwed.

Spatula Woman slammed the warehouse door shut after they’d entered. The floor was sloped, reminding Wanda of the Batman 66 crooked warehouses. In this case, however, it was more likely due to water damage from the nearby river. The warehouse also reeked of flood waters, what little Wanda could smell. She didn’t know whether to be impressed or disturbed that the warehouse smelled so badly that even she, who had almost lost her sense of smell, could still detect it.

She smiled humorlessly. Her sense of smell was overwhelmed, but she doubted the humans’ senses were. She hoped they choked on the fumes.

At first, the warehouse appeared empty. Then her eyes adjusted, and she saw a giant green glowing gem hanging from the ceiling. Despite being inanimate, it nonetheless projected malevolence. That would be the Chintonite, then. That chunk of rock was large enough to brain someone with. Talk about overkill.

She wished thinking about that hadn’t restored her memory of the issue’s end, with her and Poof dead. She whimpered, tail tucked between her legs. She tried straining her mind toward Cosmo again for only a few seconds to check on Poof. However, she knew it was hopeless. Cosmo was out of range.

That never would’ve happened if their relationship hadn’t deteriorated. They used to be able to find each other no matter what, on Earth or Fairy World. Now, they couldn’t locate each other within the same fictional universe.

Cosmo probably had no idea what Spatula Woman and her handler had put Wanda through. She wasn’t sure how Cosmo would react, knowing that the villains were torturing her.

Timmy would be infuriated, and rightly so. Her heart clenched. She just hoped he didn’t rush in and do something stupid that placed them all in worse danger. Then again, Timmy doing something stupid was par for the course.

Besides the giant gemstone, the warehouse resembled the Crocker Cave. There weren’t any fairy detectors, but the giant supercomputers tracked all supernatural powers within Chincinatti. Wanda scoffed. That wouldn’t help narrow it down if Spatula Woman was searching for Timmy. Timmy hadn’t imbued himself with superpowers.

On the other hand, if Spatula Woman could tap into Wanda’s magic, she might be able to use it to track Cosmo and Poof. Wanda grimaced. What a mess. She wished Timmy had never gone to that stupid comic bookstore.

The warehouse was partitioned off with love beads into various sections. It resembled nothing more than a studio apartment if said apartment were in a cesspit and reeked to the high heavens. Wanda desperately wished for her wand, if only to lose what was left of her sense of smell.

The handler led Wanda into a cage and then kicked her inside. Wanda growled without thinking--that felt unnecessarily cruel. Sneering, the handler electrocuted her again until Wanda cowered in a ball. She thought dark about what she intended to do with that handler once this collar was gone. Electrocuting him with his own collar was a good start.

Spatula Woman yanked a lever, and the cage shot up toward the ceiling. Caught off guard, Wanda yelped. She wasn’t afraid of heights--how could she be, as a fairy--but she felt precariously perched. When she looked down, she wished she hadn’t.

There was a giant vat beneath her cage. From here, the smell originated, not the flood waters as she’d originally thought. Whatever foul concoction was underneath her bubbled and frothed. It smelled rancid and acidic. Someone had erected a catwalk near her dangling cage, and the handler leaned against the railing. With a cruel smile, he threw what Wanda sincerely hoped was a dead animal into the vat.

It dissolved instantly. Wanda gulped.

“There’s a catch beneath your cage floor,” the handler said, prompting Wanda to face him. “As soon as Cleft, Clefto, and Puppy Poof arrive, Spatula Woman will give the signal. If Cleft is smart, he’ll let your companions go to prevent a worse fate for himself.”

Spatula Woman sneered. Besides being on the ground floor, Wanda didn’t know where she was.

“He won’t be smart,” she said, rolling her eyes. She called to Wanda. “That’s boric acid in the vat. It’ll tear you apart in less than thirty seconds. Even superhero animals can’t survive being dipped in acid. Unless, of course, there’s something you care to tell us?”

Wanda had a few choice words for Spatula Woman, but she swallowed them back. Instead, she gritted her teeth and laid down in the cage. It was barely large enough for her, and her tail thumped against the sides. She was angry, resentful, and worried. Above all, she wanted to smack Timmy for subjecting her to this.

She wouldn’t, but she wanted to.

“That’s what I thought,” Spatula Woman said smugly. To the handler, she said, “Have you recorded enough?”

Wanda froze, wondering what Spatula Woman meant.

“Oh, yes,” the handler reassured her. “They’ll follow the sounds of her distress, and the trap will spring shut. It’s foolproof.”

Wanda had heard that phrase enough times to know nothing was “foolproof,” but that wasn’t much of a consolation when she realized Spatula Woman intended to use her as bait. It’d work, too. It was the same thing they’d done with Poof, except Poof had only been terrified, not physically harmed.

“But is it enough?” another voice called, and Wanda’s heart lurched. Tootie. She couldn’t see her due to the angle, but she’d know that voice anywhere. The warehouse had been locked, but that was no deterrent for someone with a wand. Damn, but Wanda wished she could see what was happening below her.

“Who let you in here?” Spatula Woman demanded. She glowered at the catwalk. “You have an accomplice I don’t know about?”

“I don’t know how she got in here either,” the handler protested. “The doors were locked. You saw them. They didn’t look like they’d been picked.”

“Oh, she has some magical solution to get into locked buildings. Is that it?” Spatula Woman snarled. Wanda could hear her rolling her eyes. “Let me guess--you’re Cleft’s friend, and you want me to let this poor widdle doggie go?”

In response, Wanda’s cage lurched down a foot, and Wanda yelped. The acid's heat penetrated the cage's bottom despite being at least six feet above the vapors and fumes. Wanda fretted that it might disintegrate the cage before the trap was sprung. She wouldn’t die from boric acid--it’d be painful as hell, but she wouldn’t die, not as long as someone healed her immediately. Or if she had her wand, which would insulate her.

Unfortunately, she had no way of conveying that to Tootie.

“What dog?” Tootie said blankly, and Wanda facepalmed.

“Cleft’s faithful sidekick,” Spatula Woman sneered. “Ace, the bitch.”

Wanda growled, low and threatening, and the handler adjusted his watch. Electricity shot through her, and she howled in pain. She collapsed to the cage’s floor, which wasn’t reassuring since the cage was heating up. After so many electrocutions and so much abuse, Wanda didn’t bother rising again. She was spent; she panted, tongue lolling out.

Tootie yelped, too, and Wanda shut her eyes. Strangely, despite the smell and the heat, she felt almost cozy. The temperature wasn’t boiling yet, and she wondered if the fumes were getting to her.

She knew she ought to be more vigilant; she was in mortal danger. But she was so tired, battered, and bruised. Wanda curled up in a ball, licked one of her electrical burns, and passed out.

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Tootie had to fight to keep from uttering Wanda’s real name once she realized Spatula Woman had the fairy in her custody. She kept a tight grip on her wand tucked beneath her cape. Her heart hammered between her ribs. Though she wasn’t all that familiar with superhero stuff, she knew this was a death trap. It didn’t matter if Timmy and company showed up in time or not--Tootie feared Spatula Woman intended to kill Wanda either way. Her throat tightened with fear.

She wanted to help Wanda but needed to figure out how to do it without stretching the suspension of disbelief too far. Since this was a what-if issue, she had more leeway than usual, but she wasn’t sure how much leeway “normal” included. Worse, Nathaniel and Magdalene vanished when the comic randomly rewrote Tootie’s entrance and relocated her to the abandoned warehouses south of town.

Tootie was on her own against a bully with fewer compunctions about killing someone than Vicky. Spatula Woman was a sociopath, to say nothing of her assistant. Tootie wished she could whisk them away and rescue Wanda, but that was too much of a deus ex machina to fly. The story would probably subvert her attempt.

She crossed her fingers. Hopefully, Tootie trying to save Wanda wasn’t what had landed Wanda in the dire situation at the comic’s end.

“Get up, bitch,” the handler snapped. Tootie glanced at the catwalk, where the handler poked his watch. Tootie heard electricity sizzle, and Wanda whimpered. The sound went through Tootie like an icy cold wind.

“What are you doing to her?” Tootie asked.

“Oh, that?” Spatula Woman scoffed, waving Tootie’s concerns off. “It’s an electric collar. There’s a chance his finger might…slip…and cause a TBI or total paralysis, but I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Tootie knew Timmy would’ve sprung into action, but he was already a hero. Since she wasn’t an established character, she had to play it by ear. She was reluctant to attempt the path the comic had written for her, too, because the last thing she wanted was to put Wanda in more peril.

“And…” Tootie mustered her courage, licked her dry lips, and swallowed a lump in her throat. She couldn’t let Wanda down. “If your handler ‘accidentally’ permanently injures Ace, how do you think Cleft will take it? Or Ace’s partner, Clefto? Especially if you do it before Cleft can find you?”

Spatula Woman groaned. “You have a point. Plus, the acid is eating away at the bottom of the cage. See?”

Tootie glanced up and gasped. Wanda’s pink paws protruded from the cage’s base, and Tootie had to think fast. She looked around and spied the broken windows on the second floor near the catwalk. Spatula Woman had lit a giant fire beneath the vat. Tootie surreptitiously squeezed her wand and sent frigid winds blasting through the broken windows.

Tootie breathed slightly easier when the fire died, and Wanda regained solid footing. She’d repaired the cage and made it look like ice gleamed where the cage had been eaten away. To the naked eye, it’d look like it ought to melt. It wouldn’t. It was ice-colored steel.

“You can’t expect Cleft to succumb to your evil plans if you set them into motion too early,” Tootie said. Her voice shook, and she glanced for a ladder up the catwalk. She needed to rescue Wanda before it was too late. Even with the concoction frozen, Tootie didn’t trust Spatula Woman to have another ace up her sleeve.

“You might be right,” Spatula Woman said. She yanked a lever down, and Wanda’s cage crashed to the floor. It came within inches of landing in the vat instead.

“Wanda!” Tootie cried.

“Who’s Wanda? I thought this was Ace,” Spatula Woman sneered. Tootie groaned. She’d slipped up twice in the same issue. It was worse because Cosmo and Wanda could be summoned by their real names. No one gained anything to learn Cleft’s real name was Timmy.

Tootie darted to the cage with her heart in her throat. When she crouched to look, she saw Wanda was covered in electrical burns that were livid red against her pink fur. Dried blood sparkled on her head. Tootie felt sick. She put her back to the cage as if to defend Wanda from Spatula Woman’s wrath.

The cage’s jolting awakened Wanda, who gave a soft woof to get Tootie’s attention. Tootie met Wanda’s eyes; she looked in bad shape, inside and out. Tootie reached between the bars and stroked Wanda’s head. Wanda cringed--Tootie had accidentally touched one of the burns.

“Sorry,” Tootie whispered.

“Who’s Wanda?” Spatula Woman repeated dangerously. “You know this dog.”

“That’s because…because…” Tootie thought fast. “Because she ran away from me. My evil sister was training me to be her henchwoman, and I went too far on an experiment on Ace.”

Ace. Yes. Her name in the comics was Ace, and it behooved Tootie to remember that and not blurt out Wanda’s real name. Tootie mentally facepalmed. She was batting a thousand already.

“Is that so?” Spatula Woman said. She unlocked Wanda’s cage and then kicked Wanda in the face. Tootie’s jaw dropped at the casual malevolence. She rushed to Wanda’s side and hugged the fairy tightly. Wanda was shivering; her temperature was through the roof. Tootie suspected the acid had infected her burns.

“She’s my dog,” Tootie snapped, hoping to cover up the lapse. “No one touches her but me. Get that collar off her. Now.”

“Or what?” Spatula Woman said, looking Tootie up and down. “What are you going to do, squirt? Kick me in the shins?”

Tootie squeezed the wand, and Spatula Woman burst into flames. She’d always wanted to try that with Vicky, but Wanda had told her that using magic to hurt people was against Da Rules. Tootie not being a godparent didn’t matter. Jorgen and the Council wanted Tootie to abide by Da Rules to keep her in check.

Da Rules didn’t apply in Chincinatti.

“That,” Tootie said, voice trembling. “That’s what I’m going to do.”

Spatula Woman dropped and rolled. Tootie’s guilt mounted, and the flames died out.

“Tootie…” Wanda growled.

“Heh, sorry. I might’ve gone a little overboard,” Tootie muttered in Wanda’s ear. Wanda raised her eyebrows.

“You think, hon?” Wanda whispered back.

“Interesting,” Spatula Woman said, rising to her feet as if she hadn’t just spontaneously combusted. “What else can you do?”

“Tootie…” Wanda warned again. Tootie was being flashy with her magic, but it'd be worth it if it kept Wanda and Timmy out of trouble.

“Um, well…” Tootie wasn’t great at improvising, unlike Timmy. She pulled her wand out without thinking and transformed the warehouse into a maze of traps themed on the Crimson Chin. Wanda facepalmed.

“Stop helping…” she growled.

“Excellent!” Spatula Woman said, clapping her hands together in delight. Wanda groaned.

“The least you could’ve done is take this damn collar off…” Wanda grumbled. Tootie jumped, startled by Wanda’s mild profanity. When Spatula Woman turned to admire the work Tootie had done, Tootie broke the collar off and then burned it to ashes. Wanda sighed.

“Healing is out of the question until I can do it without anyone becoming suspicious,” Wanda murmured. She shivered uncontrollably. “I feel so cold…”

“You’re burning up,” Tootie whispered.

Wanda glanced at the giant green gem dangling over their heads. It was dripping. Tootie and Wanda exchanged uneasy looks.

“Why is that oozing?” Tootie said, pointing upward.

“Hmm…” Spatula Woman said, frowning. “I’ve never seen that before. It must be reacting to something nearby. Or maybe the acid got to it. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

She wouldn’t worry about a giant alien rock dripping hazardous material onto a derelict building with sloping floors. Okay, then. Tootie clearly had a different set of priorities than Spatula Woman.

“Why don’t you show me what you can do, and we’ll talk?” Spatula Woman said. She scoffed at Wanda. “Leave the mutt behind.”

“No,” Tootie said. When Spatula Woman raised her eyebrows, Tootie said, “I wouldn’t want Cleft to stumble upon her and then get away without a scratch.”

Spatula Woman nodded. “I like the way you think. You could take some notes, Jerry.”

The handler glowered at Tootie, who shrank back. She felt she’d made a powerful enemy. Wanda shuddered. Tootie sensed that her infection was speeding out of control because they were in a comic book, and things happened faster. Tootie couldn’t heal her without being obvious, either.

“Whatever,” the handler snapped. He slid down the ladder and shot Tootie a poisonous look. Tootie inclined her head and swallowed her fear like she tried with Vicky. The handler was probably someone who, like her sister, smelled terror and seized upon it.

“We’re not through, you and I,” Jerry snarled at Wanda. “You’d be the first superhero dog I’ve killed in Chincinatti, but not the first one I’ve destroyed. Keep that in mind.”

Tootie and Wanda gulped.

“Tell me you know where Cleft and the others are,” Wanda whispered. Tootie had to put her down on the floor to walk. Wanda was heavy.

Tootie shook her head. “We got separated.”

Wanda grimaced and shook her head, too. Her gaze was downcast, and she stumbled when she walked. Tootie’s heart was in her throat again. She didn’t want to be a villain if she couldn’t take advantage of it to save Wanda and Timmy. She didn’t want to be a villain, but it was the only way to protect Wanda.

It wasn’t like Wanda could contact Cosmo in that state.

Cosmo. Tootie facepalmed.

Wanda couldn’t use her wand, but Tootie had established she had one, unlike Ace. She sent a note to Cosmo and Timmy telling them where to find Spatula Woman. Hopefully, it’d be enough to send them speeding on their way.

She didn’t like the waves of heat and illness coming off the fairy beside her. Tootie felt helpless and hated it. She’d spent all of her life being helpless against Vicky.

For once, she’d like a happy ending. Not sharing Wanda with Timmy. Not being ridiculed and sneered at by the boys and rejected by Timmy. She wanted someone to love her for herself.

It was enough to make Tootie sick with rage and resentment. In her mind, she imagined the warehouse district burning with her pent-up frustration. Something crackled by her head, and Tootie looked at the hedge maze she’d created.

It was on fire.

Correction. The entire warehouse was ablaze.

“Uh…oops?” Tootie said sheepishly as the fire spread rapidly. “My bad.”

Wanda facepalmed, muttering, “We thought Poof was a problem when he was untrained. You’re giving Cosmo a run for his money, hon, and that’s not good.”

“It could be worse,” Tootie said as a piece of the catwalk broke off and landed before them. A support beam accompanied it.

Wanda stared from the flames to Tootie. The only advantage the fire had caused was to block them off from their adversaries. It formed a protective barrier around Tootie and Wanda.

“Oh, sweetie…” Wanda said. “Haven’t you learned by now? With magic, things can always be worse.”

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A piece of paper flew into Cosmo’s face, and Timmy grabbed it with trepidation. Thus far, he’d only found bad news today. He crossed his fingers that his luck was about to change, but he wouldn’t count on it. Chloe leaned against him, which froze his brain and prompted him to inhale deeply. She smelled like apple blossoms. That was distracting.

“Oh, no!” Cosmo cried. “Cleft forgot how to read!”

“I didn’t forget how to read, you idiot,” Timmy grumbled, recovering. He unfolded the page and scanned its contents. Chloe read it over his shoulder.

“It’s from Katalina,” Timmy said, stumbling over the unfamiliar name.

“Tootie,” Chloe murmured in Timmy’s ear, and he nodded.

“What does it say?” Cosmo asked, pepping up. Poof let out an excited yip and wagged his tail. Timmy wasn’t immune to Poof’s adorableness, even in the worst of circumstances, and his ADHD was bugging him anyway due to stress. He forgot he was in the middle of something.

Chloe sighed, plucking the paper from his hand.

“Am I the only one here without attention span issues?” she asked.

“Probably,” Timmy and Cosmo said in unison.

“It says they’re in a warehouse to the south of town…” Chloe read and then pointed into the distance. Timmy squinted and then pulled out his hi-tech binoculars to see better.

“I sure hope that’s not it,” Chloe said, wincing and gesturing toward the burning warehouse.

“Wow! That place is on fire!” Cosmo whooped.

Timmy groaned. “Clefto. It’s literally on fire.”

“That’s what I said,” Cosmo replied.

“Never mind,” Timmy said, dragging a hand along his face. “I give up. Why do I have a bad feeling that our new friend is behind this?”

“Uh, because uncontrollable magic plus a novice user equals bad news?” Cosmo said. He whistled appreciatively. “Wow. It almost brings a tear to my eye. Ah, memories of accidental arson.”

“That’s not a nostalgic tear,” Chloe said. “That’s the smoke!”

“Oh…” Cosmo deflated.

“It’s gotta be that warehouse,” Timmy said. “It’s the comic book equivalent of a giant arrow or an x marking the spot.”

Beside him, Chloe facepalmed. Poof looked uncertainly from Cosmo to Timmy. Chloe was unknown to him, so he wouldn’t take his cues from his god-sister.

“I’d hate to be there right now,” Cosmo said blithely.

“That’s where we’re going,” Timmy said. “No choice.”

“Maybe we could just--” Cosmo stopped at the look on Timmy’s face. “Right. Right into the fire.”

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It felt like every time Tootie found one fire to extinguish, two more popped up in its stead. Worse, the heat was aggravating Wanda’s injuries, and her eyelids drooped. She was having a hard time staying conscious. This was a problem someone with superior magic should be handling, but Wanda couldn’t do that here. Nonetheless, she was incredibly tempted to because the longer this went on, the worse the fire grew and the worse Wanda felt. Smoke inhalation on top of electrical burns and a possible infection might end her before the issue’s conclusion.

Her head spun. If she were at the top of her game, she’d suggest a way for Tootie to conceal Wanda’s assistance without tipping her hand. Wanda was at the bottom of her game and dangling off a precipice. She needed Cosmo, and she had no way of reaching him.

It bothered her that she needed him so badly. This wasn’t how she wanted to mend their relationship. She’d been roped into the situation by Timmy’s fear, and…

Wanda coughed, only dimly surprised when dark, glittering blood landed on Tootie’s cape. Tootie blanched.

“Tell me what to do!” she hissed at Wanda.

“You need to focus!” Wanda retorted. Her head lolled against Tootie’s chest. “You need to…need to…”

Wanda had no idea how Tootie hadn’t passed out yet from the fumes.

“Something…”

She couldn’t convey what she wanted aloud. She was too dizzy and disoriented. Instead, she pointed her head upward toward the ceiling. Assuming this warehouse was still connected to Chincinatti’s power grid, it should have smoke detectors and fire sensors. It should have a sprinkler system. Whether that was true was another matter.

Her thoughts drifted, and the harder she fought to remain awake, the worse it got. Without a wand, she couldn’t push the idea into Tootie’s mind, and she had no way to impress upon Tootie what she wanted.

Desperate, hoping the smoke obscured her actions, Wanda grabbed Tootie’s wand in her mouth and activated the sprinkler system. Water poured down on them, and the fires cooled before burning to ash. Cold water also rushed over her burns, and she moaned in relief as it reduced her pain from a level ten to a five. Once the sprinklers were on, she returned Tootie’s wand. Tootie surreptitiously cleaned it on her cape.

“Are you okay?” Tootie asked.

“Oh, hon, you have no idea how good that feels on my skin,” Wanda breathed. “I was in agony.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I should heal you!”

“How do you intend to explain that to Spatula Woman?” Wanda asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I need my dog to be in tip-top shape to defeat Tim-Cleft, and I want to turn her against Clefto and Puppy Poof, plus whoever Chloe’s masquerading around as,” Tootie muttered. Wanda frowned, mulling it over. That could work. Tootie’s powers being so ill-defined might be an advantage.

“Go for it, hon,” Wanda said. Tootie squeezed the wand, and Wanda went limp with gratitude. The pain was gone, her fur was restored, and she could breathe easily again. If Wanda had been in a form that facilitated it, she would’ve cried. That was how profound the relief was.

“You’re all right, though, right?” Tootie pressed.

“It’s like sinking into a hot bath at the end of a long day,” Wanda said. She jumped out of Tootie’s arms and shook herself all over. When Tootie complained about the wet dog smell, Wanda grinned. That was the least of their concerns.

“So…” Tootie said. “We’re still surrounded by hedges, which protect us but also make it harder for anyone on our side to reach us.”

Wanda nodded. “Spatula Woman’s attempts to use me as bait have been thwarted, but Cleft and the others may already be on their way here.”

“Besides hitting people with her spatula, does Spatula Woman actually do anything?” Tootie asked. They were trying to pick their way through the maze. Thankfully, not all of the hedges remained intact. Tootie nudged one until a hole large enough for them to walk through appeared.

“Uh…not to my knowledge, sweetie, but I’m not the person you should be asking.”

“Because otherwise, she sounds kinda lame.”

“I may be wrong, but Spatula Woman isn’t the one you should be worried about,” Wanda said, grimacing. “I don’t know how she found out about the chintonite, which is obviously how she’s controlling the Chin, but…”

There was a loud crack followed by a crash. Something struck the floor so hard that the warehouse shook.

“What was that?” Tootie said.

Wanda frowned. “Concentrate on what you want to see. Judging by the sound waves, it’s to the north and east of us. You can generate an image on your wand.”

Something hissed along the floor, and Wanda’s heart was in her throat.

“Never mind that!” Wanda cried. “I know what it is! Grab onto me; we need to get out of here!”

“Why? What’s happening?” Tootie said. To Wanda’s severe irritation, Tootie hadn’t moved.

“If I’m right, the green chintonite Spatula Woman was using to control the Chin fell into the boric acid vat and knocked it over…” Wanda said. “The fire beneath it may be out, but it doesn’t matter. That acid will eat through anything it touches.”

“It wouldn’t have killed you, though, right?”

“I’d rather not find out, hon, so let’s get this moving,” Wanda said, gritting her teeth. Already, the smell of the acid was overwhelming the smoke. That didn’t bode well.

“What can kill you?” Tootie said.

Wanda was this close to losing her temper. “I’ll tell you later if there is a later. Let’s go!”

“Oh, but…” Tootie faltered. Acid ate away at the surrounding hedges, and they heard screams in the distance. Wanda was darkly amused that one of them was Spatula Woman. She hoped that the woman was suffering.

Now was also not the time to indulge in petty vengeance, sadly. Wanda decided there was no more time to waste and jumped into the air, forcing Tootie to grab her cape or remain on what was left of the floor. Tootie gulped, waving her wand and giving herself the power of flight. Wanda groaned.

“Any port in a storm,” Wanda muttered.

“Huh?”

“Let’s just get out of here, hon. Before anything else goes wrong.”

A steel beam crashed from the ceiling and narrowly avoided hitting them. Wanda’s heart was in her throat. “Like that.”

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Mr. Turner didn’t usually spend too much time thinking. It wasn’t his forte. Moreover, he’d spent an inordinate amount of time lately not thinking. Drowning out his sorrows with alcohol and libations had only postponed the inevitable. He had to think about where he was going from here.

He’d served Mrs. Turner the divorce papers once he’d discovered that Timmy wasn’t his biological son. That hadn’t been the entirety of their issues, but it was the last straw. He could hardly stand to be in the same house as Timmy, knowing whose child Timmy really was. While he’d never hurt a child, Mr. Turner was angry whenever he walked past his “son’s” room or encountered him in the house.

He wished Timmy had never been born. Timmy’s mom would’ve been devastated, but she couldn’t miss what she didn’t have.

Mrs. Turner believed he would’ve taken it poorly regardless of when she’d told him. He disagreed, but he had no evidence to the contrary. Gritting his teeth, he took another big gulp of his beer. His original plan for tonight was to get so drunk that nothing mattered.

And repeat.

Mr. Turner pulled out his wallet to examine the pictures he kept within. Timmy beamed back, and Mr. Turner growled, tearing the school portrait in half. Something within him rebelled at his behavior, and he responded by shredding the photo. His guilt over Timmy’s mistreatment was unwelcome. Mrs. Turner’s words were equally unwelcome, so he shunted them aside.

For eleven years, she’d let him think Timmy was his son. She’d lied to his face for eleven fucking years. He tightened his grip on the mug and considered throwing it against the wall. He’d done that in another bar, and the bartender had called the police.

Besides, he wasn’t that angry. Frustrated, yes, and miserable. Beneath the rage, what he hadn’t dared to face before but that the alcohol, as a depressant brought out, was his misery. Burying his face in his hands, he sobbed.

Like Timmy, he wanted everything to return to how it’d been before their troubles had started. Like Timmy, he knew it was impossible, though Mr. Turner didn’t have fairies to grant his every wish. There was no sense in trying to reclaim the past.

Shuffling off the barstool, he rubbed his eyes, paid for the drink, and then shuffled off to the hotel elevators. He was too drunk to drive, and he didn’t want to return home. His stubborn refusal to stay in the house was eating into their savings. No. His savings. She wouldn’t get a dime.

Unless she needed it for Timmy.

That shouldn’t matter. Timmy wasn’t innocent; he was complicit by being Dinkleberg’s son. Mr. Turner managed to hold it together (in that he could see where he was going) until he reached his door, pressed the keycard against the lock, and then collapsed onto the bed facefirst.

By then, he was sobbing hysterically. The hotel room door was open; he couldn’t care.

He’d lost Mrs. Turner eleven years ago; Timmy had never been his. He should cut his losses and leave Dimmsdale before he destroyed himself. After all, he didn’t need to stay in Dimmsdale to file the papers. His attorney had advised him to leave Mrs. Turner the house for now; it’d make him look sympathetic later.

Cut his losses and walk away from his “family.”

It took a while for Mr. Turner to calm down and sit up. He was still drunk as a skunk, so he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and it took him several tries to focus his vision enough to read the number.

Mrs. Turner.

Mr. Turner hefted the phone in his hand and debated answering it or throwing it into the trash can. He should answer it; it might be important, and it might involve their son.

No, not their son. Her son. Timmy had never been his.

Cursing loudly, he flung the cell phone at the nearest trash can. It banged against the metal bottom but didn’t make it inside. He grumbled as he picked it up, flung it inside the trash, and stomped on it. Maybe when he was sober, he’d regret it.

As for now, he didn’t care. Let her suffer for what she’d done; this was her choice. She had no one to blame but herself for her current predicament.

The phone kept vibrating, even after he smashed the screen in. Irritated, he grabbed a desk lamp to hit it, but it slipped through his fingers. Thankfully, it slid back onto the table with no harm done.

Mr. Turner burst into tears again and collapsed against the trash can on the floor. The cell phone felt like the Tell-Tale Heart. Try as he might to ignore it, the beating beneath the floor would drive him mad.

Scowling, he picked up the phone and answered it. The screen had cracked, but other than that, no actual harm had been done.

“Hello?” he snapped.

Mrs. Turner sighed. “I’d ask if you’ve seen Timmy, but you sound as drunk as a skunk. The answer is obviously ‘no.’”

Her words penetrated his inebriation slowly. “You can’t find Timmy?”

“I don’t know where he is, and he won’t answer his phone,” she said. “It’s not like him to blow me off.”

Mr. Turner sighed and pinched his nose bridge. “Did you want me to call him?”

Mrs. Turner hesitated. “Yes, but…I didn’t think you wanted to speak with him. From my impression, you never wanted to see him again, much less have anything to do with him.”

Mr. Turner’s gut churned with guilt.

“He might answer if you called,” she said hopefully.

“I’ll think about it,” he said gruffly, then hung up. He hated that he worried about Timmy when he was no longer his responsibility. Mrs. Turner had made her choice. She’d drawn the line, and Mr. Turner didn’t have to care about Timmy anymore. He wasn’t his problem.

Unfortunately, despite what he’d tried earlier, feelings can’t be shut on and off like that. Mr. Turner still loved and cared about Timmy as much as he might deny it. He hated it.

Burying his face in his hands, he dissolved into sobs. He wouldn’t try calling Timmy now, not when he was crying too hard to see anything, much less pick a phone number. (Asking his phone to call Timmy hadn’t occurred to him.)

He hoped that he was okay wherever Timmy was.

Another sob ripped out of him. Mr. Turner didn’t want to feel attached to someone who wasn’t even his son.

Next time, he needed to get blackout drunk. It was the only way to escape this nightmare.

---------------------------------

“At least we didn’t have to walk across town. Panel travel is convenient,” Chloe said. A pink blur above them caught their attention. They’d stopped near the piers while Chloe tried to figure out how to enter the warehouse without using magic. Timmy and Cosmo followed her lead; Cosmo’s heart was in his throat as he followed the pink blur. It was accompanied by a purple one.

It was a good thing they’d halted where they had. Acid was eating away the warehouse at the far back, which had been on fire. Wanda landed in front of them. Tootie, whose experience with flying was non-existent, crashed into Timmy and Chloe. She smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry,” she said, flushing. “I didn’t quite stick the landing.”

They straightened themselves out, and Cosmo threw himself at Wanda. Wanda shook herself off; she barked, jerking her head toward the rapidly eroding ground. Spatula Woman screamed in the distance, and Cosmo and Wanda shuddered.

“The good news is that we rewrote the ending,” Tootie said.

“The bad news is that there was a vat of boric acid in the warehouse where Spatula Woman was holding me captive,” Wanda said. “It got knocked over when the green chintonite fell from the ceiling. The acid is eating away at the ground rapidly.”

“So…flee?” Timmy said. Wanda nodded. Cosmo nuzzled her, and she smiled.

“Hey, hon,” she said, nuzzling him back. He sniffed her.

“You smell like electricity,” he said, frowning.

“I’ll tell you later,” she murmured. He nuzzled her again; his heart pounded in between his ribs. He’d been terrified for her. Poof nuzzled her, too, and she beamed at their son. Poof yipped.

“Shit,” Timmy said. Wanda opened her mouth, probably to chastise him, when she shut it quickly. It wasn’t just the warehouse sinking into the ground. The acid ate everything nearby. Worse, Spatula Woman and a cruel man wielding a whip were fleeing the warehouse and heading in their direction.

“We need to get out of here now,” Wanda growled. She shuddered. “I’ll explain what happened later, I promise, but--”

“I don’t know how you got out of that collar, but you’re going to regret it!” the man snarled. Wanda flinched and then crouched low, baring her teeth while growling. She assessed their surroundings and jumped into the air while bringing Timmy and Chloe. Tootie, Cosmo, and Poof could fly by themselves.

“What collar?” Cosmo gasped as they fled.

“An electric collar,” Wanda said, shivering. “I’ll explain later, hon. I told you.”

Timmy almost crashed into a building. “They were electrocuting you?”

“Not. Now,” she growled. They headed toward Chincinatti, and Cosmo could feel Wanda’s heart pounding. He tried to sniff her again to determine whether Timmy’s hypothesis was correct, but she swerved away from him. He whined.

“Not so fast, evil-doers!” the Crimson Chin snapped. Wanda groaned, and Tootie facepalmed.

“Forgot about that part,” she muttered.

“I’m your sidekick! I’m not an evil-doer!” Timmy protested. “Don’t you recognize me? And my hounds?”

“You attacked Spatula Woman! She’s the love of my life!” the Chin snapped. “Prepare to pay!”

“I thought you fixed the ending,” Timmy hissed at Tootie.

“I thought I had!” she protested.

“Any more nasty surprises, Katalina?” Timmy snapped.

“Turn around…” Chloe murmured. Cosmo and Wanda pivoted in midair and groaned simultaneously. The Negachin was floating on their other side. They were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“She’s the love of my life!” Negachin snapped. “And I don’t share!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Wanda muttered, facepalming.

“Maybe if we leave them alone, they’ll finish each other off,” Tootie muttered. She tried to fly around the Crimson Chin and then froze. Spatula Woman and the handler were floating, too. None of this made any sense, but it was a what-if comic book. No holds barred.

“You’re not getting away that easily!” the Crimson Chin said, glaring at the dogs. “Especially you, Ace. You tried to flee Spatula Woman, and she has plans for you. I won’t stand in the way of true love by letting you escape your fate!”

“True love, sure,” Wanda muttered. “You’re not thinking with the wrong part of your body.”

“What part?” Cosmo asked. “His elbow?”

Wanda groaned, facepalming. She didn’t answer him. Perhaps she thought the answer was obvious, although Cosmo didn’t.

“Please don’t tell me we’re going to have to fight,” Chloe said.

“I could tell you that!” Cosmo said brightly. He wilted slightly. “It wouldn’t be true, but I could tell you that anyway.”

The group groaned.

“I wish I had superpowers for this issue only,” Timmy muttered. Cosmo granted the wish and then glanced down when he heard plaintive mewing. Magdalene and Nathaniel couldn’t fly as cats. Cosmo levitated them before the ground dissolved beneath their paws.

“What powers did you give him, Clefto?” Wanda murmured to Cosmo.

“I have no idea!” Cosmo said. “It’s a metronome! You’ll never know what you’ll get!”

Wanda groaned.

“What? What did I say?” Cosmo said.

“If we survive this,” Wanda muttered, “you’re in for a long lecture about impulsive decisions.”

“That’s all of my decisions!” Cosmo said.

“I’m fully aware,” she muttered.

Cosmo gulped as the villains and the Chin closed in on them.

“This, Katalina, is why you should never ask how things could get worse,” Wanda said. “Because where there’s a will, there’s a way.”