Fandom: Fairly Oddparents
Canon or AU: AU
Fic: Blank Space
A/N: After x number of chapters, I discovered “Wonderful” by Everclear would’ve been a perfect fit for this fanfic’s title. Rawr.
The lyrics in the first scene are from that song.
I worked like crazy to finish this today, but it still won’t go up on AO3 until tomorrow because I’ll be too tired to bother after Grammarly hacks at it.
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In addition to flying, Timmy had heat vision. Since he’d never technically lost it, he was nonetheless gratified to blast his enemies with it. He also had super strength and…
“Meow?” Timmy said blankly, and Magdalene and Nathaniel floated over to him. Timmy blinked.
“Good news!” Cosmo said cheerfully. “You can also summon cats!”
“You and Ace are dogs,” Timmy pointed out.
“Yeah, so?” Cosmo said, not seeing why Timmy objected. Timmy groaned, burying his face in his hands.
“Why would I need to summon cats?”
“I don’t know,” Cosmo said, shrugging. “It sounded like fun. Do you wanna be a crazy cat lady, too?”
“No!” Timmy snapped. He wanted to reprimand his godfather further, but the Crimson Chin and the Negachin had teamed up. They circled him like vultures. Tootie and Chloe pushed their way inside the circle, and Chloe offered him a weak but encouraging smile. He smiled back and blushed. Tootie growled.
“Not the time!” Magdalene hissed at Tootie.
“You two hate each other!” Timmy said to the Crimson Chin. “Why would you work together? Snap out of it, Chin! I’m your sidekick, not your enemy!”
Timmy thought about Wanda saying that the Chin was thinking with the wrong part of his body. Unlike Cosmo, he had an inkling of what she meant, but, like Cosmo, he didn’t entirely understand what she was talking about. Now wasn’t the time to mull it over. The Crimson Chin flew at him, and Timmy ducked, his heart in his throat. Cosmo had imbued him with superpowers, but the Crimson Chin was more muscular, larger, and faster than his sidekick. Timmy could get seriously hurt.
Anxious, he looked for his fairies. To his consternation, Cosmo and Wanda were trapped, too, with Spatula Woman and the handler, Jerry. Jerry wielded an electric whip that sizzled as it sliced through the air. Cosmo and Wanda were trying to protect Poof by shielding him with their bodies; Poof’s presence made them vulnerable, and it was on Timmy’s tongue to wish him away when he remembered he couldn’t.
The distraction cost him. The Negachin had engaged Chloe and Tootie; the Crimson Chin punched Timmy in the face. Francis had hit him numerous times, and the scary gray child packed a punch. He didn’t, however, pack a supernatural adult punch. Timmy’s head spun, and his vision doubled.
“I’m not supposed to be dead at the end of this comic!” Timmy complained. He spat out blood and a tooth. Magdalene and Nathaniel struggled to reach him, but Jerry’s whip kept everyone at arm’s length. Spatula Woman’s giant spatula also prevented any close combat. Someone would have to sneak in and distract both of them for someone to disable them.
Francis was also careful not to break any bones and, therefore, bring the teachers and the law down upon him. The Crimson Chin was outside the law; as a vigilante, he could escape justice on rare occasions, such as this one, where he was outside of it. Timmy swerved backward to avoid getting struck again, and a blow glanced off his ribs. Something cracked; Timmy shuddered to think of how bad the injury would’ve been if he hadn’t moved aside. The Crimson Chin wasn’t fucking around.
Neither was the Negachin. When Timmy dodged the Chin’s attack, the Negachin snuck up behind him and punched him in the kidneys. Timmy groaned, only remaining in the air by dint of his wish. Otherwise, he didn’t know how he would’ve stayed aloft. Poof whimpered; he must’ve seen the blow.
Somehow, inexplicably, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He’d told his mother not to call him, and he could’ve sworn he’d shut it off earlier. Whoever it was would have to wait because Timmy didn’t dare take his eyes off his opponents. He was in too much pain to consider anything but retreat, which was cowardly but might also be his only option if the injuries kept piling up.
Timmy spat out blood. “Please. I’m begging you, Chin. You care about me because I’m your protege. I’m your ward! You…you love me…”
His voice cracked. Tears slipped down his cheeks. He wasn’t thinking about the Crimson Chin now. Instead, his father’s face flitted into his mind. The Chin was supposed to love and care about Cleft, just like his father was supposed to for Timmy. Yet, like the Chin, Timmy’s father had let something stupid decide how he should react. Timmy’s chest heaved as he sobbed.
His father and his father figure in the comics were rejecting him. Worse, the latter was actively hurting him because he could and thought Timmy was standing in his way. Timmy doubled over from the pain, physical and emotional. Clenching his eyes shut, he braced himself for the next attack.
“This isn’t right,” the Crimson Chin said slowly. “I shouldn’t be attacking my allies, especially not Cleft. Especially not a child.”
Timmy opened his eyes in time for the Negachin to swing at him. The Crimson Chin blocked the attack and pushed the villain aside. Timmy’s chest ached, but he wasn’t sure if it was emotional or from the earlier blow he’d taken. His teeth chattered, and he probed his mouth where he’d lost the tooth.
“You should if he’s standing in your way!” the Negachin retorted. “He’s a cockblock!”
“He’s a child,” the Crimson Chin snapped. “I am supposed to represent truth, justice, and the American way!”
Timmy coughed and said quietly, “That’s Superman.”
The Crimson Chin’s defense had startled him out of his tears. He appreciated that his hero had snapped out of it and fervently wished his father would, too. However, now wasn’t the time to force an emotional 180, not to mention he didn’t want to mix his comic book life with the real world. Things were tangled enough as it was.
“Oh. Well, my point still stands,” the Chin said. He cracked his knuckles and glowered at the Negachin. “No woman should stand between me and justice, no matter how enchanting or attractive. Attacking a child is wrong. Will you ever forgive me, Cleft?”
“Uh…” Timmy grimaced. “We’ve got other problems right now.”
Cosmo and Wanda yelped in pain, and Timmy heard electricity snap and sizzle. He didn’t dare turn his head to look, but his stomach clenched. Thankfully, with the Crimson Chin restored to the side of good, Chloe and Tootie didn’t have to worry about distracting the Negachin or whatever they’d been doing that hadn’t involved protecting Cleft. He hadn’t exactly had time to double-check.
Somehow, incredibly, his phone was ringing again. He was afraid to bend and reach for it with a cracked rib. Blinking past tears, he sought out Magdalene and Nathaniel. At this point, he didn’t care for continuity. Someone had to heal him.
A few seconds later, which felt like an eternity, Magdalene and Nathaniel flew beside him and held up their wands. Relief swamped him as his injuries faded.
“What took you so long?” he snapped.
“We have a situation,” Magdalene said. Timmy pivoted; the handler, it seemed, was ambidextrous. While he slashed his whip at Cosmo and Wanda, he also tried to aim between them at Poof with throwing knives. Timmy’s heart flew into his throat. If that wasn’t enough, Spatula Woman kept penning them in with her giant spatula.
Tootie was having problems with her wand. She smacked her palm against it, and a blast of pure magic transformed Spatula Woman into a potted plant that plummeted toward the ground. Cosmo and Wanda sighed loudly, relieved, as they were down one opponent. Timmy guessed that Tootie hadn’t meant to transfigure Spatula Woman, but whatever worked.
With her out of the way and Chloe and Tootie on the offensive, his fairies had a better shot. He crossed his fingers that the numbers were on their side. The Negachin and the Crimson Chin were evenly matched; neither noticed their love interest crashing to the pavement. Timmy grinned wickedly.
“Hey, Negachin!” he taunted. Tootie smacked her wand once more, and Spatula Woman reappeared. She was out cold.
“Your girlfriend needs you!”
“My girlfriend…” the Negachin followed Timmy’s gaze. The Crimson Chin did, too, but he looked back at Timmy. The guilt written on his face almost made Timmy feel guilty by proxy.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Timmy said softly as the Negachin dove toward Spatula Woman. “You weren’t yourself. Spatula Woman had green chintonite to use against you.”
“I let my manhood make my decisions for me,” the Crimson Chin said, shaking his head sadly. “How will you ever forgive me, Cleft?”
“Your manhood?” Timmy repeated, baffled.
The Chin looked uncomfortable. “My, uh…my genitalia.”
Timmy went scarlet. “You know what, dude? I am so incredibly sorry I asked. Let’s never mention that again. Ever.”
He shuddered. It reminded him of Cosmo’s aborted attempt at the wands and the wings. Some things even therapy won’t fix. That was one of them. He never wanted to consider his parental figures having sex. Just. No. Even the thought made him shudder.
“Are your dogs all right?” the Chin asked, and Timmy looked at them. Cosmo and Wanda growled, their eyes flashing, and they had tensed, ready to spring. Poof was visible behind them, but not for long. Tootie ushered him to safety, which earned her another relieved sigh from the adult fairies. That was one less thing to worry about.
“They should be,” Timmy said, grimacing. “I hope.”
He didn’t like the look of that guy’s whip or knives, which shone in the bright sunlight. He suspected the handler had dipped them in something, which made him fear for Cosmo and Wanda. However, now that the Negachin was racing off with Spatula Woman, they were all against the handler. A weight lifted off Timmy’s chest. They were going to win!
His excitement almost distracted him from his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. The Crimson Chin darted off to fight Jerry, and Magdalene and Nathaniel weaved in and out to distract him and hopefully tie his whip into knots around him. Timmy hoped it worked and the guy would get a taste of his own medicine. While he hadn’t had a chance to talk to Wanda at length, he was furious she’d been electrocuted. He was sure if Cosmo hadn’t gotten distracted by his short attention span, he would’ve been enraged, too.
Timmy watched the battle for a few seconds and forgot that his phone was still vibrating. Magdalene and Nathaniel’s hisses and growls commingled with Cosmo and Wanda’s barks and snarls. Wanda’s fur was singed, and Cosmo shot her a worried look. They jumped aside to avoid another whip, which split into three. Timmy cursed as one of the prongs electrocuted Wanda.
He dug his phone out of his pocket and answered, his gaze still upon his fairies.
“Hello? I’m kinda in the middle of something,” he said. He hadn’t looked at the number and assumed it was either his mother or a crank caller. Technically, spammers weren’t supposed to call children’s cell phones, but a few slipped through the cracks occasionally via auto-dial.
Still, he could’ve sworn he’d shut the phone off to prevent his mother from calling back. What the hell.
“Timmy?”
Timmy dropped the phone in shock. He dove down to retrieve it and heard something sizzle, accompanied by the smell of cooking meat. Wanda howled in pain, and Cosmo growled, headbutting the handler. It was both rash and stupid, considering how close he’d had to get to attack. However, it took Jerry off guard, and when the handler spun about, readying himself to confront Cosmo, the Crimson Chin punched Jerry in the face. Blood sprayed, and Timmy smiled. Wanda shook herself, and Cosmo flew to her to lick her wounds. She smiled weakly.
“Dad?” he said. His stomach dropped; he couldn’t think of any good reason his father might be calling. After all, his father had made his opinions on Timmy quite clear. He wanted nothing to do with his “son.” Timmy’s true paternity had tainted him, and Mr. Turner loathed Dinkleberg and anything associated with him.
“Your mother’s very worried about you,” Mr. Turner snapped. His voice was slurred; it wasn’t unrecognizable, but it took concentration to interpret. Timmy couldn’t remember his father drinking to excess when he lived in the house, but he hadn’t spent the night in their house in months.
There was no way this was good news. Other than complaining about Timmy, his father hadn’t said a word to him in months, either. Mr. Turner had ostracized him when he learned whose son Timmy really was.
Remembering that hurt. Tears burned in his eyes. Why didn’t his father love him anymore? How could someone switch their affection on and off like a light? How could he hate him…Timmy hadn’t done anything.
Tears spilled down his cheeks, and before he knew it, he was sobbing again. The Crimson Chin was rambling about justice, and Magdalene and Nathaniel flew around Jerry in circles to confuse him. When Jerry realized what was happening, he stopped, swaying from dizziness. The idea was to restrain him with his own weapon, but Cosmo was still clearly pissed about the electrocution.
He bit Jerry’s hand and held on, growling.
“And you’re not?” Timmy said.
Timmy’s father sighed. “Just call your mother.”
“Dad, I--” Timmy’s throat tightened. “Do you hate me?”
It was a loaded question, and Timmy hugged himself with his free arm. Tears blurred his vision, and he jumped when a furry head nudged his hand. It was Cosmo. Timmy rubbed his head rather more aggressively than he’d intended. Wanda nudged his side.
“Guys…” he whispered.
He wished Cosmo and Wanda had been his birth parents. They loved him unconditionally and were there for him when he needed them. Up until recently, he thought his birth parents had loved him unconditionally, too, until he’d learned his father’s love came with strings attached and conditions. Evidently, being Dinkleberg’s son was one of those exceptions. Timmy gasped back another sob.
“Oh, sweetie…” Wanda whispered, nuzzling him. He wanted to beg her to stay with him, but his father was still on the line.
“I don’t hate you,” his father said after what felt like an eternity.
“You don’t wish I’d never been born?” Timmy pushed.
“I don’t--” he stopped himself. “Call your mother.”
Before Timmy had a chance to parse that, the call ended. Timmy stared at his wallpaper in consternation and debated calling his father back. For everything that mattered, Mr. Turner was his father. Not Sheldon Dinkleberg, especially since the latter had repudiated him.
Cosmo wouldn’t do that, either. His godfather and the Crimson Chin were his father figures, and they accepted and cared more about him than his birth father(s) did. Timmy’s heart felt heavy.
The Crimson Chin flew toward the police station with Chloe, Tootie, Magdalene, and Nathaniel bringing up the rear. Cosmo and Wanda remained with Timmy, who trailed disconsolately. He could tell his godparents were worried; Wanda’s fur still smelled singed, making Timmy wonder whether she’d remembered to heal herself.
“Is everything okay, hon?” Wanda murmured.
Timmy shook his head and then, feeling stubborn, called his father back. His father hadn’t spoken directly to him in months, not since the revelation had dropped. He’d spoken of him many times, usually in disparaging tones. However, they hadn’t had a real conversation since the news broke.
“Dad, please,” Timmy cut in when the phone stopped ringing, and he assumed he’d answered. “Tell me you don’t hate me.”
Cosmo and Wanda winced sympathetically. It wasn’t fair that he’d lose the only parents who actually loved him, and he’d be stuck with the father who raised him and wanted nothing to do with him and a mother who was gone most of the time. Where was the justice in that?
It occurred to him that maybe, like superheroes and supervillains, real justice only existed in comic books. He tried not to cry too hard to speak, but it was difficult. Cosmo and Wanda nuzzled him.
“Timmy, I…” his father sighed. “I don’t want to have this conversation. Not right now.”
“Then when?” he pressed, sensing it was a bad idea to push his father into a corner, but he was desperate for answers and reassurance.
Cosmo and Wanda’s ears perked. He knew they had superior hearing, so they could probably hear both ends of the call.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not your father. You don’t have to call me that.”
“Yes, I do,” Timmy said fiercely. They were approaching the police station, and Timmy felt like time was running out. He needed to keep his father on the line. (He also needed to erase this comic edition from existence, but that would have to wait.)
“I love you,” he added. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
Tears spilled down his cheeks. Cosmo and Wanda whimpered sympathetically as the group landed on the police station stairs. The Crimson Chin rushed in with Jerry, and Chloe rested gracefully on her feet. Tootie had hit the bushes, which Timmy might’ve found funny under other circumstances. Wanda groaned, rolling her eyes, and pulled Tootie out by her feet.
“I don’t hate you,” his father said. Timmy’s hope soared.
“Then you love me?” he said.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” his father snapped. “As far as I’m concerned, you were a mistake. You should’ve been mine, but you weren’t.”
The phone went dead. Timmy found himself back to his wallpaper. He collapsed on the stairs, and Cosmo jumped on him. Chloe squeezed his shoulder, and Magdalene and Nathaniel rubbed his ankles. Wanda and Tootie reappeared after Wanda healed the various scratches and cuts Tootie had obtained by not sticking the landing.
“Timmy?” Wanda murmured, and Timmy shook his head glumly. He couldn’t stop crying.
“Oh, sweetie…” she whispered.
“I wish this comic book edition never existed,” Timmy said, tasting tears. “I wish we were back at the house, and I wish…I wish…Dad still loved me…”
Cosmo and Wanda winced. They couldn’t grant that last part, and they knew it. Magdalene and Nathaniel exchanged uneasy looks as they granted the wish along with Cosmo.
Timmy appeared in his bedroom with Cosmo, Magdalene, and Nathaniel. Chloe must’ve gone home, Tootie and Wanda were MIA, and Timmy sobbed harder. He threw himself onto the bed and buried himself in the pillows. Wanda’s absence was salt in the wound. He threw a pillow at Cosmo and missed.
“I wish…I wish…” Timmy whispered into the pillows. He didn’t know what to wish for or what was possible anymore.
He hugged a pillow.
“I wish Dad would come home,” Timmy whispered.
“We can do that, but are you sure?” Magdalene asked.
Timmy lifted his head to glower at her. “I don’t care. Just make with the magic.”
She sighed. “Okay. But be careful what you wish for.”
At least she wasn’t lecturing him like Wanda would have. Somehow, though, that made it worse. God, he felt so alone and unwanted.
Yet the fairies weren’t granting his wish. Confused and irritated, he glared again. “What’s the problem?”
“Your dad was drunk when he called you,” Cosmo said quietly. Timmy stared, bewildered that Cosmo, of all people, was the voice of reason. Moreover, he didn’t think Cosmo had had a chance to discuss this with Magdalene and Nathaniel, which meant the objection was purely Cosmo’s.
“Oh,” Timmy said, deflating. “Right. I wish Dad was home…right now. Without driving.”
Magdalene shot Cosmo a wary look; she disagreed with the wish on general principle. Cosmo was arguing based on common sense. Nathaniel grimaced, glancing between the two before granting the wish.
The front doorbell rang, and Timmy bolted out of his room, down the stairs, and at the door. He stopped himself just short of barreling into it.
Timmy’s father looked befuddled, probably wondering how he’d gotten from point A to point B with no memory of traveling between them.
“I don’t know how I got here,” Mr. Turner said. “I know I didn’t drive because I was too drunk.”
Mrs. Turner walked in with a dish towel tucked under one arm. She gawked at Timmy and his father.
“When did you get home?” she asked Timmy. Then, she asked his father, “How did you get home?”
“Uh…just now?” Timmy said sheepishly. “You seemed upset, so I didn’t want to disturb you. I snuck in.”
“Okay…” Mrs. Turner said, clearly deciding to address the more pressing issue. She glared at her husband. “I thought you didn’t want anything more to do with us. You’ve been spending more time and money at the bar than you have with your family.”
“I didn’t intend to come home! I just said that I don’t know how I got here!”
“Oh, and I’m supposed to believe you poofed onto the front step like magic?” Mrs. Turner said, her eyes narrowing. Timmy laughed nervously, but his parents ignored him. Cosmo, Magdalene, and Nathaniel were pillows on the couch. Timmy caught himself looking for Wanda’s pink and then clenched his jaw. He needed to stop doing that.
“How else would you explain it?” Mr. Turner retorted. He folded his arms across his chest; he reeked of alcohol, and Timmy wrinkled his nose.
“I certainly didn’t want to be here!” Mr. Turner added.
“Then go!” his mother snapped. “If you don’t want to be here, I’m not stopping you!”
“Please,” Timmy begged, seeing the wish going horribly awry. He grabbed his father’s hands. “Please. You gotta stay and work this out with Mom. I’m sorry--I know it’s not my fault what happened, but it’s not like I meant to be like this.”
Cosmo vanished off the couch. A few seconds later, the other two fairies accompanied him. Cosmo, taking advantage of Timmy’s parents exchanging uneasy looks, transformed into a hoodie tied around Timmy’s waist so he could hug him. Timmy smiled weakly; Magdalene and Nathaniel were Timmy’s shoelaces.
They wanted to comfort him. He got that.
His heart wrenched when his father yanked his hands out of Timmy’s grasp. Timmy whimpered, squeezing Cosmo’s cuffs in his right hand.
“I know you don’t think he’s your son, but he is,” Mrs. Turner said. “You’ve helped me raise him. I know you still love and care about him. Don’t treat him like this.”
Mr. Turner was having difficulty focusing his gaze. When he had, however, he glared at Timmy.
“I don’t want anything to do with Dinkleberg’s spawn,” he said coldly. Then, swaying as he turned, he walked out the door and slammed it behind him. Timmy gulped. The sound was so final that it was as if Mr. Turner was permanently pushing them out of his life. Tears streamed down his face, and he untied Cosmo to cradle him against his chest.
Mrs. Turner, whatever she’d been about to say, opened her mouth and then closed it. She exited the kitchen, threw the towel down, and embraced her son. Timmy couldn’t speak; he was crying too hard. Mrs. Turner smoothed his hair back and adjusted his silly pink hat.
“I won’t yell at you for ignoring me earlier,” Mrs. Turner said. “You have it rough enough right now. I’m so sorry, Timmy…”
Timmy tried telling her it wasn’t her fault, but the words got lost. Cosmo was crushed between them, prompting Timmy to remember that Wanda was still absent, and he cried harder.
“It’s okay,” Mrs. Turner said, though it wasn’t. It was a platitude that made things worse, not better. “It’ll be okay, Timmy. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t speak. She wasn’t the one he wanted holding him. Throat tight, he shook his head.
Besides, she’d only stay until it was time for Vicky to babysit again. Her promises were hollow, and so was he.
“I close my eyes when I get too sad
I think thoughts that I know are bad
Close my eyes, and I count to ten
Hope it's over when I open them
“I want the things that I had before
Like a Star Wars poster on my bedroom door
I wish I could count to ten
Make everything be wonderful again.”
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Tootie came home to discover Vicky battering her door with a sledgehammer. Tootie’s bedroom was magically sealed, but that didn’t deter Vicky. If anything, it galvanized her. Vicky swung the sledgehammer so hard that the nearby wall had cracks from her earlier misses. She might tear the house down, trying to break in.
A flamethrower sat on the floor by Vicky’s feet. The carpet had burn marks. Tootie faltered, standing on the landing behind Vicky. She was afraid to draw attention to herself and have that sledgehammer turned on her. While she knew Vicky wouldn’t bash her skull in, she wouldn’t put it past her to threaten it. Tootie was usually too afraid to call Vicky’s bluff.
“Why…won’t…this…stupid thing…open…” Vicky snarled, kicking the door in rage. “It’s like dealing with the twerp!”
Maybe because he has magical assistance, too? Tootie thought.
Wanda was a pin on Tootie’s backpack. She offered Tootie an encouraging smile that Tootie couldn’t reciprocate. Cosmo and Wanda had fantastic supernatural powers. They were powerful and full-blooded fairies. If Tootie had even half of their abilities, she ought to be able to conquer Vicky easily. First, however, she needed to conquer her fear.
She almost wished she were back in Chincinatti. That seemed easier by far than facing her personal nemesis. Plus, when the stakes included someone else, Tootie could assert herself. She valued Timmy and Wanda’s safety above her own.
Wanda nudged Tootie, who shook her head. She was terrified to confront Vicky, especially when furious and on a mission.
“I’m gonna kill her!” Vicky roared, prompting Tootie to retreat. Her foot slipped since she’d forgotten the staircase was behind her, and she gasped, grabbing the banister to prevent falling backward. Vicky rounded on her, and Tootie tried to make herself look small and unthreatening. All pretensions of superheroism faded; she could take on Spatula Woman, but not her sister.
“Well, well, look who’s home late,” Vicky said. She smacked the sledgehammer’s handle into her left palm. “Our parents were worried sick.”
“No, they weren’t,” Tootie said faintly. Vicky snorted, shrugging.
“You’re right. They weren’t,” she said. “I’d be shocked if they noticed you were gone.”
Tootie winced. Vicky was right, but that didn’t mean Tootie liked hearing it. She rested her hand on Wanda to steel herself. Wanda believed in her and loved her. Wanda was all Tootie needed.
Timmy couldn’t have her back. Tootie needed her too badly.
“There’s something strange going on,” Vicky continued. “First, the twerp can bend reality around him. Then you start doing it, too. I don’t believe in coincidences. Something fishy’s going on, and I don’t mean that fish head the twerp gave me months ago. You two are up to something.”
Tootie gulped. “No…no, we’re not. Nothing’s going on.”
Wanda flinched against Tootie’s hand. Tootie wondered whether Wanda needed to breathe when she was disguised as an inanimate object. It wasn’t like she or Timmy thought about that very often.
“I don’t believe you,” Vicky said, leering. “This door won’t open no matter what I try on it. I call bullshit. You and the twerp are clearly conspiring against me.”
“Timmy’s innocent!” Tootie protested.
She could almost hear Wanda saying that Timmy might be many things, but “innocent” wasn’t one of them.
“Yeah, right,” Vicky said. “And I’m the queen of England.”
Tootie wracked her brains for something to distract Vicky. Wanda had warned Timmy earlier that Vicky was onto him, and, as usual, Wanda was right. Tootie’s stomach churned. The only thing she could think of to divert Vicky’s attention would involve Timmy’s parents, who were only one degree of separation. Not enough. Of course, she could put the spotlight on herself, which she didn’t want to do either.
“I have a lot of homework,” Tootie blurted. “Could you just step aside?”
Vicky folded her arms across her chest. “Go ahead, twerpette. Open the door. I guess I don’t have the ‘magic touch.’”
Tootie and Wanda cringed.
Swallowing hard, Tootie turned the knob. It lit up purple, fairy dust settling on the floor as Tootie pushed the door open. Vicky’s glare bore holes into the back of Tootie’s head.
“That’s not normal,” Vicky snapped.
“It’s a new electronic lock,” Tootie lied quickly. She wasn’t as adept at it as Timmy, but she’d have to learn fast. “It only responds to my fingerprints.”
“Where did you get the money for it?” Vicky said. Tootie’s heart hammered between her ribs; Vicky never used to be this suspicious. Timmy’s wishes must’ve really been outlandish.
“Uh, internet?” Tootie lied. “I do commissions online.”
“Yeah, right,” Vicky scoffed and then shoved Tootie inside. Tootie spun, wondering why Vicky was being so accommodating. Then she saw her sister pick up the flamethrower, and her heart sank.
“Oh, look, you rebuilt your Timmy shrine,” Vicky said, grinning wickedly. “That’s gotta go. And what’s this? Another fairy princess set? Clap if you believe in magic, Tinkerbell, because that’s all about to go bye-bye.”
“No!” Tootie cried, standing defensively in front of the Timmy shrine. “Leave my stuff alone!”
“Why should I?” Vicky snapped, rounding on her. “The twerp’s parents are getting divorced, and that means less money for me. The Turners are my biggest source of income. For all I know, the twerp will wind up moving away, and then where will I be?”
She advanced on Tootie. “I’ll tell you. I’ll be up shit’s creek without a paddle.”
“It’s not his fault!” Tootie protested, scanning the area. She wondered whether she could pull out her wand without Vicky noticing. Perhaps a wish might be in order. Then again, if Vicky was already on guard, a wish might be the worst possible thing. Tootie didn’t know, and she squirmed with indecision.
“I don’t care!” Vicky snapped. “I. Hate. Timmy. Turner.”
She punched Tootie in the gut and kicked her aside. Tootie groaned, eyes watering. Timmy never got smacked around by Vicky since his parents didn’t believe in corporal punishment. Tootie’s parents didn’t care what Vicky did so long as they didn’t get in trouble with her or the law. Tootie fell to her knees; Vicky’s blow had knocked the breath out of her, so she couldn’t make a wish, either.
Cackling, Vicky turned the blowtorch on the Timmy shrine and burned it to ashes. Then she rounded on Tootie’s fairy wands. Thankfully, the real wands were hidden underneath a fake bottom in her dresser drawer. The damage was only symbolic, not catastrophic. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“I wish…” Tootie gasped.
“What’s that?” Vicky said, kneeling down. “Did you say something, twerpette?”
Her pink eyes glittered dangerously. She and Wanda had a similar eye color, but there was no compassion or affection in Vicky’s gaze like there always was in Wanda’s.
Then again, Vicky was a sociopath. Wanda was a good-hearted fairy who didn’t torture people and lock them up in her bedroom for kicks.
“I wish…” Tootie couldn’t choke the words out. She coughed, desperately trying to regain her breath to speak.
“You wish what? That the world was fair? That anyone cared about you besides…oh, no, wait. That’s right. No one cares about you. And no one ever will!”
Vicky scooped her up and then threw her into the closet. The door slammed shut and then locked. Tootie sprang to her feet and heard Vicky moving something heavy, possibly the fairy wand chest. She hadn’t destroyed it like she had the shrine. Tootie’s heart was in her throat as more heavy items were piled in front of the closet.
“Try wishing your way out of that one!” Vicky sneered. “I’ll let you out later when I get back from the twerp’s. I hope you’re not hungry or thirsty or have to use the bathroom!”
Tootie listened to Vicky’s cackles as her sister walked off. For a minute, Tootie sat there, arms around her knees. She knew she could magick herself out. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Vicky was right. Aside from Wanda, no one cared about her. If it hadn’t been for an accident of birth, Tootie would be trapped and alone.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. Timmy liked Chloe better; Timmy always liked other girls better than her. Maybe in an alternate timeline, he’d go for her when they grew older, but that wasn’t here and now. As much as she wanted Wanda to stay, Cosmo and Wanda would repair their relationship, and Wanda would resume godparenting Timmy. It was delusional to assume otherwise.
Pink fairy dust rained down upon her, and Wanda radiated a faint glow as she floated before her.
“You okay, hon?” she asked.
“You’re going back to him, aren’t you?” Tootie said dully.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re gonna go back to Timmy and Cosmo,” Tootie said as tears spilled down her cheeks. “You’re going back, and I’ll be all alone again. Or worse. Timmy likes Chloe. He loves you. Vicky’s right. No one cares about me.”
“Oh, sweetie, that’s not true,” Wanda said, settling beside her. “I care about you. I’m sure if Timmy ever thought about anything for longer than ten seconds, he’d tell you the same thing.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Tootie said flatly. “I have no friends. The boy I’m in love with keeps crushing on other girls. You’re on loan to me because Jorgen pitied me. Once you and Cosmo patch things up, I’ll be back to where I started.”
Her throat was tight. “But worse, because now I’ll know what I was missing.”
“I’m not going to let you be alone,” Wanda vowed, hugging her. “We’ll figure something out, I promise. Don’t give up just yet.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Tootie said. “You’re immortal. You can just poof elsewhere if you don’t want to stay somewhere. Or you can blast your enemies into smithereens.”
“Technically, I can’t do that. Hurting someone, even indirectly, is against Da Rules.”
“Only as part of a wish.”
Wanda frowned; Tootie had scored a point, but Wanda didn’t want to admit it. That was fine. Tootie didn’t want to think about how right she was, either.
“I can’t ‘poof elsewhere,’” Wanda said. “Until recently, Cosmo could always find me, no matter where I went.”
Tootie didn’t respond. She knew Cosmo and Wanda were supposed to be soulmates or something close to it. Cosmo’s recent misbehavior hadn’t helped Wanda, and it was strange for Tootie to almost want the pair to separate. She knew if they reconciled, though, that was the end of this situation. Tootie also knew she was selfish for wanting things to stay as fractured as they were.
“No one wants to befriend me,” Tootie said, staring at the floor, though it was too dark to see much. She didn’t have the enhanced senses full-blooded fairies possessed.
“Everyone thinks I’m weird, and besides, I’m Vicky’s little sister. No one wants to mess with her.”
Wanda squeezed her. “Things will change. I promise. They may look bad now, but they can always improve.”
“Or get worse,” Tootie said.
“Don’t think like that,” Wanda scolded her lightly. “You’re half-fairy. You can always make the world better if you believe in yourself.”
Tootie wanted to scoff, but Wanda genuinely believed what she said. It was hard to argue with that. She didn’t dispute returning to Timmy and Cosmo, which was good because everyone knew Wanda was a terrible liar.
Tootie hugged her back.
“Now, why don’t we get out of here and do something fun?” Wanda said. “You don’t want to stay in the closet all night.”
“Maybe I do,” Tootie said, but she only said it to be contrary. She swallowed hard. “You really think things will work out?”
“Yes,” Wanda said. “Just have a little faith, hon.”
Tootie smiled back. “Faith, trust, and a little pixie dust.”
Wanda shuddered. “You’ve never met the pixies, have you?”
“No. Why?”
“They’re nothing like Tinkerbell,” Wanda said. “Trust me. They’re the most boring creatures you’ll ever meet. So maybe fairy dust, but definitely not pixie dust.”
Tootie snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind. I wish we were out of here and everything in my room was back to normal!”
Wanda held up her wand, and Tootie landed on her bed. Wanda frowned, glancing around the room.
“What’s wrong?” Tootie said.
“I don’t know if my forgiving Cosmo is a foregone conclusion, hon. Besides…” Wanda shivered. “I know you don’t want me to leave you, but I’m incredibly concerned about Timmy. I don’t think Cosmo will cut it on this one.”
“Does he ever?” Tootie scoffed.
“I’m serious,” Wanda said sharply. She wrung her wand between her hands. “I don’t want Timmy to feel abandoned, either. This isn’t so easy--it’s a fine line to walk between you. I can’t abandon Timmy, even if I’m not his godmother anymore.”
“Is there a specific reason you’re worried now, or is this just from before?”
Wanda sighed. “I don’t want to get into it.”
She examined her wand and then grimaced, shaking her head. Tootie wanted to ask her what was wrong, but she knew wishing for Wanda to tell usually vexed her. It was a way to compel the truth out against Wanda’s will.
“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” Tootie said softly after a moment of silence.
“I don’t know,” Wanda admitted, floating down to her. “That’s what worries me. Cosmo and I have been godparents for children whose parents got divorced, and it’s always bad when things are this contentious. We’ve also had Timmy longer than any other godchild. We know him better. I don’t like what this is doing to him.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Tootie asked, quickly adding, “Besides giving you back.”
“I’ll let you know,” Wanda said. She was still studying her wand and turned it so Tootie could view the image, too. Timmy curled into a ball on his bed and sobbed hysterically. Tootie looked away, feeling guilty even though it wasn’t her fault.
“He’ll be okay,” Tootie said without conviction. “He’s always okay.”
Wanda smiled softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I wish that were true.”
Tootie’s heart panged. It was a bad sign when the fairy godmother did the wishing and not the godchild, especially when they both knew the wish wouldn’t come true.
“Why don’t we do something fun?” Wanda suggested. She dismissed the image. “We need a distraction.”
“I guess we do,” Tootie said, flopping back onto her pillows. “But I can’t think of anything.”
She bolted upright. “Did you really get electrocuted before?”
Wanda sighed. “Yes, unfortunately. I’m glad that specific comic book issue no longer exists for multiple reasons, and I’m also glad that ‘Jerry’ was a one-shot. Electrocution won’t kill a fairy, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
Tootie hugged her. “Cosmo licked your wounds.”
Wanda choked back a laugh. “He made it worse, but he tried.”
“Do you think Cosmo ever really wanted someone else?” Tootie asked and then winced, realizing how personal the question was. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”
“I’ll answer. No, sweetie, I don’t think he did. The problem is that I thought he did…and maybe he convinced himself, too. Until we figure out how to fix our problems, I don’t see how I can trust him again.”
Wanda shook her head. “Love doesn’t conquer all. Not even close.”
Tootie squeezed Wanda tightly.
“A lesson I’m afraid Timmy is learning firsthand,” Wanda said, looking down at the bedspread. She swallowed hard and hugged Tootie back. Tootie couldn’t get the image of Timmy curled into a ball and crying out of her mind.
She had to help him, but she didn’t know how.
Yet.
She’d figure something out, though. She couldn’t let him suffer. Hopefully, it wouldn’t mean letting Wanda go.
(She didn’t know if she could; it was devastating to contemplate, much less do.)
Vicky was singing off-key a song Tootie didn’t recognize, which might’ve been good because Vicky was probably butchering it. Tootie glanced at Wanda, who seemed contemplative.
She didn’t want to disturb her. Instead, Tootie stared at the ceiling and crossed her fingers that Vicky might be halfway decent toward Timmy tonight. She knew it was a lost cause, but Timmy needed a break for a change.
----------------------------------------------
Cosmo didn’t know what to do. It felt like nothing he tried helped. Timmy was utterly bereft, and Cosmo held him as he sobbed. Timmy rolled over, clinging to his godfather. Magdalene and Nathaniel had already made overtures that Timmy had rejected. Cosmo knew Timmy wanted him and Wanda; Magdalene and Nathaniel were poor substitutes.
Someone slammed the front door open, and Cosmo grimaced. He might be an idiot, but he had a sinking suspicion he knew who was here. Cosmo shouldn’t interfere and banish Vicky; nonetheless, it was tempting. Timmy had gone through enough today. Seeing him this upset brought Cosmo to tears, too.
Vicky also had a way of making things ten times worse. Cosmo’s throat swelled, and he swallowed against a hard lump.
Timmy lifted his head to look Cosmo in the eye.
“Please don’t tell me that was Vicky.”
“I could tell you that,” Cosmo said.
“But he’d be lying,” Magdalene said, squeezing Timmy’s shoulder. “Sorry, kiddo.”
“I wish she’d just drop dead!” Timmy snapped. He straightened up into a sitting position with Cosmo on his lap. Cosmo’s eyes widened in alarm. Timmy’s wishes weren’t usually so violent.
“That’s--” Magdalene started. Timmy interrupted.
“Against Da Rules. I know, I know. As soon as Mom leaves, I wish Vicky was trapped inside a giant bubble in a straitjacket and had only enough air to breathe. And couldn’t move besides that.”
His eyes flashed. “Or is that considered ‘harm,’ too?”
Magdalene and Nathaniel consulted Da Rules. Cosmo didn’t bother. As far as he knew, Timmy’s wish was legitimate, albeit cruel. Then again, if Da Rules hadn't prohibited it, Timmy would’ve wished Vicky had died, so maybe Cosmo should count his blessings.
Sighing, Magdalene and Nathaniel granted the wish.
“I wish you two would go bother Chloe,” Timmy said. Exchanging worried glances, Magdalene and Nathaniel scrammed.
Cosmo and Timmy were left alone.
“You don’t wanna play video games, do you?” Cosmo suggested. Timmy shook his head.
“I don’t want to do anything,” he said listlessly, flopping back onto the bed. “I wanna disappear.”
Cosmo winced. “You mean go invisible?”
“No, I mean…” Timmy sighed. “What does it matter? I can’t do that, either.”
“Do what?” Cosmo said.
“Stop existing for a while.”
Cosmo shuddered. He didn’t like the way Timmy was talking; it scared him. They’d had other godchildren who had said similar things, and they hadn’t known them half as well as they knew Timmy. Worse, Cosmo knew if Timmy worded the wish correctly, Cosmo would have to grant it. He didn’t want Timmy to stop existing. He loved him.
“Maybe I’ll go to sleep,” Timmy said.
“It’s too early for sleep,” Cosmo objected. “C’mon. Play the not-study game. It’ll cheer you up.”
“Nothing will cheer me up,” Timmy said dully. “Leave me alone, Cosmo.”
Timmy rolled over and put his back to him. Cosmo whimpered, hugging him from behind. No matter how much Timmy wanted it, he wasn't about to vanish. Plus, Timmy couldn’t wish him away. He had that, if nothing else.
“We love you,” Cosmo offered. Timmy rolled to face him again; he stared holes into Cosmo’s face.
“What? You know Wanda still loves you.”
“I know,” Timmy said softly. “I wish she were here right now.”
“She’ll be back,” Cosmo said. “She’s never gone for long.”
Timmy swiped at his cheeks. “How do you have so much faith in her?”
Cosmo smiled faintly. “She’s never let me down before, and I know she never will. I know I screwed up, but she’ll forgive me. Somehow. I’ll make her forgive me. I’ll make myself so pathetic; she’ll have no choice.”
Timmy smiled weakly. “That won’t be much of a stretch.”
“I miss her,” Cosmo said. “It’s not the same without her.”
“Life hasn’t been the same for months,” Timmy said, rolling onto his back. “Dad hates me, Wanda’s gone, and I’m apparently a Dinkleberg, but my ‘father’ doesn’t want me.”
“I want you,” Cosmo said. Timmy swiveled his head to look at him.
“I do,” Cosmo said defensively.
Timmy’s lips twitched.
“I know Wanda does, too, even if she isn’t here right now,” Cosmo added. “She’s coming back, though. I’d bet Phillip on it.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” Timmy said. “What if she never comes back?”
“She will. I believe in her. And I believe in Phillip. Between the two of us, how can I be wrong?”
Timmy didn’t reply. For a minute, they sat there in silence. Cosmo wished there was more he could do for him. All Timmy had to do was say the word, but Timmy wasn’t speaking.
“Maybe I will play the not-study game,” Timmy announced. “It’s not like there’s anything else to do. I’ll free Vicky eventually, if not sooner.”
“She’ll be fine,” Cosmo said. “What could possibly go wrong?”
“Besides, she can’t die. It’s against Da Rules,” Timmy said. His eyes narrowed. “She’ll suffer a little, but I’m sure she’s already done something today to deserve it. Considering what Tootie goes through, I’m almost positive she did.”
Cosmo nodded. His mind was already drifting to Wanda. He missed her so much, and he hoped it was reciprocal. He reached out for her mentally, fearing it was a lost cause, and then blinked.
He sensed her mind for the first time in months, though she wasn’t physically that far away. It wasn’t sharp like it used to be, but it was something. His heart soared.
She’d forgive him and return. She had to. They were a team. They'd be unstoppable once he figured out how to win her back.
Cosmo might have to help Tootie, too. While his loyalty was toward Timmy, he was concerned about Tootie because Wanda was. Cosmo was also desperate to make Wanda happy again. If that was what it took, then he’d do it.