(no subject)

[soulfulsin]

Fandom: Fairly Oddparents
Canon or AU: AU

A/N: This is the one shot from which the other scene came. Happy birthday to me. Since this is my first birthday without my mom, that might explain why this one-shot went into dark territory.

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She’d lost track of time and her sense of self. As far as she knew, she’d always been here, trapped in this hotel, and everything else was hazy. It’d been an eternity since anyone had said her name; between the brainwashing and the fact that no one in the Court called her by her proper name, she’d forgotten it. It didn’t matter. Her old life didn’t exist anymore. She didn’t exist anymore.

It’d been a long time since she’d used her wand, and it wasn’t hers, anyway. It belonged to Asmodeus and Ozymandias. They healed her whenever they felt she was in danger of permanent disfigurement or death. Otherwise, they let her bleed and suffer.

When she wasn’t paraded as an oddity, abused for entertainment, or otherwise treated like a non-entity, she slept. Sometimes, she didn’t even wake up when someone came to hurt her. She couldn’t tell one day from the next anymore, and her past life was locked behind a door with a rusted lock. She left it alone.

It was possible she’d gone insane. Maybe that explained why she was numb. Even physical pain didn’t bother her as much anymore. The Unseelie Court found it disgusting that they couldn’t provoke a response. Their captive was alive, but she was dead inside. That wasn’t what they’d kidnapped her for.

Pity the monsters.

Once in a while, she wondered whether Asmodeus had flung her into a time-dilation field to prevent her from reaching safety, but if he had, that didn’t matter, either. No one wanted to rescue her. She couldn’t think of who would, but that might’ve been her forced amnesia. Her first memory was of holding her wand and not being sure what she’d done. Perhaps she was the culprit behind her missing memories. Maybe she’d done it to protect herself.

She sighed, closing her eyes. She might wake for the next meal; she might not. She no longer cared what she looked like or what she ate. People would do with her what they wished.

Asmodeus pulled her strings, and she danced. Otherwise, she was lifeless on the bed and useless. Had she been useless in her past life? She didn’t recall.

As far as she knew, her only family was the children Asmodeus had taken from her. She’d long since reconciled herself to their disappearances. Asmodeus would allow her nothing, especially not contact with his heirs.

They were probably elsewhere in the hotel; she wasn’t curious. Wherever they were, they weren’t hers anymore. Theoretically, she could roam the hotel and look for them, but she had no desire to leave her suite. She had no motivation for anything. Asmodeus had given her free range of the hotel because he knew she wouldn’t take advantage of it. He’d broken her.

Maybe that was what she’d been made for. Being broken.

Curling into a ball, she waited for time to pass. Nothing fazed her anymore, and nothing held her attention. Insanity had its benefits.

Asmodeus hadn’t been pleased to discover that the green, purple, and blue he’d painted or otherwise adorned her suite no longer affected her. She knew that those colors ought to mean something; she suspected they were locked with all of her other memories.

She had no desire to peek through the door, much less open it.

Maybe when Asmodeus finally grew tired of her, he’d slit her throat, and she’d be free. It’d have to be an iron dagger, though, and it’d have to be too quickly for anyone to heal her. In the past, when she’d possessed emotions, she’d goaded people into killing her. It had almost worked; unfortunately, Asmodeus caught wind of it and executed the would-be assassin. Then he’d punished her.

She couldn’t remember what he’d done specifically. There were too many incidents for her to keep straight. They’d all blurred into one, much like time had shifted into a never-ending hell.

Her only hope, dim as it was, was that one day, Asmodeus would kill her out of boredom or spite. That would be the only way he’d let her leave.

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“An Unseelie ward shouldn’t be that hard to figure out!” Timmy snapped, exasperated. The Council had been working for months trying to break the spells protecting The Lotus Hotel and Wanda’s suite. When they thought they’d cracked one, it mutated into a different hex. Cosmo had volunteered many times to help, but they refused. Timmy didn’t blame them-Cosmo was liable to make things worse. Then again, he was good at destroying things.

He barely spoke these days. All of his normal effervescence was gone. He had no idea what was going on with Wanda and hadn’t for months.

Fairy World prohibited communication between the realms, so they had effectively abandoned her. Timmy didn’t spend a day without thinking about that and worrying about how she felt. Did she hate them now? He wouldn’t blame her if she did.

“Maybe if this were an ordinary ward!” Jorgen countered. He slammed his fists down on the table, more expressing vexation with the curse than with Timmy.

Three months had passed since they’d lost Wanda. The time dilation field also complicated any attempts to remove the hex. By the time they’d unraveled it, the field warped the spell beyond recognition, and they had to restart.

“I wish the damn time dilation field was gone!” Timmy snapped. He glared at the useless Council. “I know, I know. I can’t wish away dark magic. That’s not how this works. Blah blah blah, bullshit.”

“We have been over this, tiny Timmy Turner,” Jorgen snarled. “You cannot just--”

“Done!” Cosmo announced in a small voice. The Council and Jorgen, as a unit, turned to gawk at him. Cosmo froze, his wand still alight.

“Wait, seriously?” Timmy said. “All I had to do was wish for it?”

“It must be Wanda's magic,” the head Councilor said, rubbing her temples. “I can’t believe it took us three months to realize that. If it’s Wanda’s magic, of course, Cosmo’s would cancel it out.”

“Can I wish away the other spells?” Timmy asked eagerly.

“Unfortunately, no,” the head Councilor said. “Asmodeus wove his magic with Wanda’s there. However, with the field gone, the wards will stop mutating, and we should be able to crack the code. I hope.”

“What are you waiting for?” Timmy said. “Crack it already!”

“It may have escaped your notice, human child, but we are all exhausted,” Jorgen snapped. Cosmo drooped in midair and then collapsed into Timmy’s arms. His godfather weighed nothing, yet the last three months had sapped his vitality. Timmy was worried about him, too. Wanda’s absence was wrecking them, especially since she was suffering, and they couldn’t reach her.

“So’s she!” Timmy countered.

“One more day won’t make any difference,” Bridget, the head Councilor, said. She could barely keep her head up. “I know you’re frantic about her, and so is Cosmo. We’re doing what we can. But even fairies can’t run forever.”

Timmy was tired and ill-tempered. He didn’t want to hear their excuses.

“With the time dilation field gone, can you at least see into the hotel with magic?” Timmy grumbled. “Or is that off-limits, too?”

“We can try,” Bridget said, sounding dubious. She waved her wand, and an image appeared of a penthouse window. They created a magical drone that tapped against the window for admittance. The room’s occupant didn’t move. When the drone tried to break the glass, it sizzled and fell out of the sky.

“I’m sorry, Timmy,” Bridget said sincerely. “We’ll find out how she is when we rescue her, hopefully within the next couple of days. You need sleep, too.”

“I know, but…” Tears slid down his cheeks. Cosmo was despondent, it’d been three months since he’d seen his friends and family, and he just knew Wanda was utterly miserable. Yet, with all of this magic at his disposal, they couldn’t free her. It was ludicrous.

“We’ll reconvene bright and early tomorrow,” Bridget promised. Her silky blonde hair shone under the electric lights, and she looked like an older, more ragged version of Blonda. That hadn’t helped Timmy’s mood. Blonda and Big Daddy were putting pressure on the Council, not that it did much good.

“Yeah, right,” Timmy grumbled. He’d heard it before.

Cosmo held up his wand and took them back to Mama Cosma’s house; he collapsed on the couch. While Cosmo and Wanda had a house in Fairy World, Cosmo refused to set foot in it without Wanda. Mama Cosma was delirious with joy to have her son back, especially without Wanda, and if Mama Cosma could have thwarted their rescue attempts, Timmy was sure she would have. Her insincerity regarding Wanda’s fate pissed Timmy off to no end. Cosmo didn’t see through the facade, but Timmy had needed to leave the house a few times to keep from snapping at her.

He got it. Mama Cosma hated Wanda; her false mollification grated against Timmy’s nerves. While he hoped Mama Cosma wasn’t so evil as to wish her daughter-in-law to remain in the hotel, she seemed to be enjoying her absence too much.

Timmy stomped to the guest bedroom and flung himself onto the bed. Exhaustion tugged at him, lulling him back to sleep. That was the one good thing about this. His sleep was always dreamless.

Unfortunately, he always awoke to the same situation. Wanda was gone, Cosmo was despondent, and Timmy was far from home. He didn’t anticipate that changing any time soon.

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It was an ordinary day. In the past, she used the TV for background noise and to feel less isolated, but since she’d grown numb, that was less important. Asmodeus was meeting with his advisors on how to break the Fairy World barrier. According to him, it’d been up for three months, and they’d made no inroads on it. She shrugged-if he said it’d been three months, then she believed him.

Asmodeus lied about little things but nothing important to him.

She curled onto her side and pinched her left arm with her right hand. Tally marks scarred her left arm up to the armpit. Asmodeus joked that he should start cutting across her chest and to the other arm. When she’d shown no surprise or concern, he’d left disgusted. He couldn’t get a rise out of her; she wasn’t any fun anymore.

She couldn’t remember eating today, but since everything was a giant blur, she didn’t remember the last time she ate in general. Fairies could go a long time without eating.

That was what Asmodeus said she was. A former fairy godmother. She didn’t remember that, either. Head lolling on the pillow, she clutched her stomach. It felt like it was trying to rip itself apart from the inside out. She rolled over further and vomited onto the purple rug. The rug color bothered her, but she didn’t know why. It was a faint concern since her emotions, when they bothered to appear, were a mere blip on the surface.

She might’ve been pregnant again. She didn’t pay attention to that stuff anymore, either. She was just a vessel for Asmodeus to exploit, a broodmare.

For a while, she hung over the side of the bed. No one was allowed on her floor without permission. Therefore, unless someone was visiting her, the penthouse was deathly quiet. Normally, she’d hear the elevator ding as it arrived, and then the geas would snap into place.

It wasn’t quiet, yet the compulsions were absent. She debated whether she cared enough to straighten up and investigate. When she tried to straighten up, she fell off the bed and landed in the puddle. Her body was too weak to move, and her limbs shook like she had palsy.

Never mind a human--how long could a fairy go without sustenance? She didn’t know, nor did she care. She wanted everything to be finished, so she could finally sleep forever.

“How many fucking wards are there in this place?” a young male human demanded. “We had to break the time dilation field, then the barrier around the hotel, and then the barrier to her room. And now this? This is ridiculous!

“Wanda, let us in!”

The name meant nothing to her. Besides, even if she’d wanted to open the door, she couldn’t budge. The months of abuse and torment, with half-complete healings, had depleted her reserves.

“Are you getting anything from her?” the boy demanded.

“No…” a high-pitched male voice responded. “I don’t like it. I don’t know if I can’t feel her because there’s another barrier in place or because there’s nothing to feel.”

“She’s not dead, right?” a female child asked. “You’d know if she was dead.”

“I don’t know anymore,” the adult male said mournfully. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen her.”

“I wish this stupid door was open!” the boy snapped.

“Stand aside, puny human child!” a deep voice commanded. Positioned as she was on the floor, she heard the door blow off the hinges and then saw it fly across the room to smash through the windows opposite her. Whoever had done it possessed powerful magic.

There were still no compulsions, but she assumed that would change. Everyone came here, took what they wanted, and left. Closing her eyes, she considered sleeping on the floor in her own vomit. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant thought, but she didn’t think things could get much worse.

“Go with Chloe, Nathaniel, and Magdalene to find the twins,” the boy ordered as they entered her suite.

“I want to check on Wanda!” the girl retorted. “I’ve been worried about her for months, too, you know.”

“She’s not your godmother!” the boy barked. “Let me and Cosmo handle this first, then you can come back.”

The girl grumbled something unflattering and stormed out the door. Her visitors rounded the corner of the bed and appeared in her line of vision. One of them was a young human child clad in pink with a silly pink hat. The other was a green-haired, green-eyed fairy floating at his side. She ought to know them, especially the fairy. Nothing came to mind.

“Wanda?” the male fairy asked. She stared at him blankly. The male fairy shook his wand frantically, cleaning, healing, and dressing her.

Judging by what the girl had said, the male fairy was named Cosmo. That meant nothing to her.

“What’s wrong with her?” the boy demanded. “Why is she staring at us like that?”

“I don’t know,” Cosmo said fretfully. He scooped her up into his arms and then hissed. “The tally marks…”

“Holy shit,” the boy breathed.

“She’s so skinny,” Cosmo whined. “Her hair and eyes are gray, and there’s no color in her face.”

“We didn’t abandon you,” the boy said. “It took us forever to get to you, but I swear, we’ve been trying for months.

“Wanda, say something.”

She stared at him quizzically; she hadn’t spoken of her own accord in months. Nowadays, she remained silent unless someone asked her a direct question. No one cared what she had to say, anyway. She was superfluous, good for one thing and one thing only.

“I wish you’d speak,” the boy snapped. It was clear he wasn’t used to being thwarted.

She cleared her throat. Since they kept calling her “Wanda,” she supposed that must be her name. Or, at least, the name that they used. Since the Unseelie Court called her various epithets, she wasn’t sure if Cosmo and the human were using her proper name or not.

“Who are you?” Wanda asked. Her voice was rough from not speaking for a long time.

Cosmo and the boy did a doubletake.

“She has amnesia?” the boy cried.

A large, muscular fairy towered over the child, and the green-haired fairy stormed up to them. Wanda flinched, anticipating pain. Her stomach was still cramping; however, Cosmo had healed her, and he hadn’t known about her missing meals.

“Wanda,” the large fairy snapped. Unwillingly, she looked up into his face.

“What is the last thing you remember?” he asked. His voice was kind, which she sensed was unusual for him. Cosmo squeezed her tightly, and she sighed. He felt familiar, but she didn’t know how. Moreover, he felt safe, which was something she’d not encountered with a male fairy since her memories began.

Another fairy arrived wearing a blue cloak; her hood was thrown back, revealing platinum blonde hair in ringlets and deep blue eyes. The female fairy assessed Wanda and frowned.

“Wanda, do you know who any of these people are?” the female fairy asked.

Wanda shook her head.

“Do you know who you are?”

Again, Wanda shook her head.

The older female fairy exhaled sharply. “I may be mistaken, but I believe she locked away her memories to better withstand her captivity. It’s self-imposed amnesia.”

The elevator dinged, and Wanda froze.

In an undertone, scarcely aware she was speaking, she whispered, “No, no, no. Not you.”

“Not who?” the boy asked.

Wanda’s teeth chattered. “Asmodeus.”

“Good,” the older female fairy snapped, brandishing her wand. She was about Unseelie fairy adult height, which made her about human adult height. Squeezing her wand, she poofed out of the room after replacing the door. The giant male fairy followed.

“You really don’t remember us?” the boy asked. He looked devastated.

She shook her head. The female fairy might’ve been right about self-imposed amnesia.

“I wish you did,” the boy said stubbornly.

Cosmo held up his wand, and a barrage of memories, ten thousand years worth, assaulted her at once. Wanda gasped; the pressure of it knocked her unconscious.

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At first, she thought it had worked. The memories battered her incessantly; Cosmo’s magic normally could nullify hers. Without a wand, she shouldn’t be able to work magic. Yet the green glow around her faded, and the memories retreated to behind that locked door. She was relieved.

She didn’t want to deal with that.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the boy leaning over her anxiously. She tried to push herself into a sitting position, but her arms trembled, and her hands slipped. Plopping back on the floor, she stared at the ceiling, which was permanently etched into her mind. She’d spent a lot of time staring at it while waiting for her captors to finish.

“Wanda?” the boy pressed, and she shook her head.

Smiling bitterly, she said, “It looks like my amnesia spell took Cosmo’s potential counterspell in mind before I cast it. Though I’m not sure why when I had no hope of being rescued.”

“You want to have no memories?” the boy said, aghast.

Wanda’s smile lingered. “Hon, if I can’t remember what I lost, then how can I mourn its passing?”

Her throat was raw and scratchy. Cosmo conjured a water glass for her, and she drank thirstily. She also couldn’t recall the last time she’d had anything to drink. The glass refilled; beside it floated a large candy bar. The latter she eyed suspiciously.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like chocolate anymore,” the boy groused.

“I know I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but…I’ve had too many unpleasant surprises lately.”

“It’s us!” Cosmo protested. He looked like she’d betrayed him. “You know? Your loveable idiot husband, Cosmo, and your godson, Timmy?”

Timmy. Yes, that name rang a bell. Her stomach cramped, and she gasped, curling around it. She didn’t know what happened to pregnant women who starved, but she guessed that the embryo was taking its mother’s nutrients. That might explain the cramping. Or maybe it was that she hadn’t eaten in so long her body was rebelling.

“I don’t know what to do!” Cosmo whined. “I can’t feel her mind or her body. It’s like the spell she cast over herself knocked out our Bond, too.”

“Maybe she was trying to protect you because if you had known what had happened to her, you would’ve gone berserk,” Timmy suggested.

“Maybe…” Cosmo said, sounding unconvinced. “I don’t like this one bit.”

He reached for her hands, and she pulled them away. Now that she had the choice for physical contact, she’d rather not. Cosmo’s eyes watered, and his lower lip quivered. Perhaps, in the past, that had pushed her into calming him down. Instead, his emotions made her vaguely uncomfortable.

The Unseelie Court seized every advantage it could find. No one wept in front of anyone if they could help it. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.

Cosmo was ugly sobbing now, and he threw himself at her. If he’d expected her to catch him, however, he had another thing coming. She let him bowl her over and sighed.

“I don’t know what you’re here for,” she said dully. “But just do it and leave so I can return to my miserable existence.”

“We’re here to save you!” Timmy snapped. He glanced toward the hallway, where they could hear spells sizzling, snarls, and threats. Wanda didn’t know if she cared who won. She’d lost faith in everything and everyone. There was nothing left for her.

“Can’t we return to Fairy World and let them duke it out?” Timmy asked Cosmo. Cosmo sat back, pushed himself off her, and then studied her intently. Raising his wand, he rested against her chest and then brought them back to Fairy World.

They appeared in a teal-green house, which immediately put Wanda on edge. She knew she should recognize this place, and perhaps part of her did because she wished she had a wand more than ever.

They’d landed on the hardwood floor, and an overweight fairy woman with a giant beehive hairdo floated to their side.

“Cosmo!” she said. “You’ve come back! And you’ve brought…”

She trailed off, and the color fled her face. The woman looked positively flabbergasted, which Wanda sensed wasn’t normal. Wanda must’ve looked a sight, though she didn’t know what they’d done to her because she’d stopped any attempt at self-care. What little hair she had left was gray, and in a humanoid form, she weighed hardly more than a child.

“Yeah, we’ve brought Wanda,” Timmy snapped. “Got a problem with that?”

“No, I…” the woman winced. “She looks like she came out of a prisoner war camp.”

Wanda rolled onto her side and coughed sparkling, dark red blood. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. It felt like she was trying to cough up her lungs. Tears streaked her cheeks; her chest ached, and the tears were from the pain, not from any emotional distress.

“Why didn’t you take her to a doctor?” the woman snapped. “She’s getting blood all over my nice clean floor!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Timmy snapped. “I know you hate her. I know you wish Cosmo had married someone else or that you could get rid of her. But you can’t; you lost. Get over it. Don’t you have any compassion for anyone besides yourself and possibly Cosmo?”

Cosmo gently rolled Wanda over so she didn’t choke.

“Baby?” Cosmo said, ignoring the by-play between their godson and Cosmo's mother.

“I thought I healed you…” Cosmo whimpered.

“Healing won’t do much if it has no reserves to draw upon,” Cosmo’s mother snapped. She lowered herself, and Wanda held herself tightly in case of an attack. The geas throbbed like a second heartbeat in her head, and she strained toward Cosmo’s wand to return to Earth. Cosmo started to hand it over when Timmy yanked it out of his hand.

“She wants to go back to the hotel, you idiot!” Timmy growled.

“So? What’s wrong with that?” Cosmo said. His mother and Timmy facepalmed.

“What’s wrong with…seriously?” Timmy snapped. “Look at her and tell me that Asmodeus and his cronies took good care of her. When was the last time you ate, Wanda?”

Wanda shrugged. Timmy held the wand away and out of arm’s reach.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Timmy said.

She shook her head and then shrugged. “Let me have the wand, sport. This doesn’t involve you.”

“The hell it doesn’t!” Timmy snapped. He glared at Cosmo. “We were supposed to go straight to Abraxas so he can remove the curse before Asmodeus compels her back to his side.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Cosmo said, facepalming at himself. Timmy tossed him back the wand; Wanda attempted to sit up and snatch it, but her fingertips only grazed the handle before Cosmo caught it. A few seconds later, they left the house and reappeared in Fairy World’s hospital. She only knew it was Fairy World because it floated above the clouds.

It should probably disturb her more that she couldn’t remember her birthplace. Then again, she could barely feel anything anyway.

“We’re going to get to the bottom of this,” Timmy grumbled. "I can’t believe your memories are lost for good.”

“They’re likely not,” a gray-haired, gray-eyed fairy said. He looked ancient, like someone’s grandfather and his attire was all black, white, and shades of gray. Spectacles rested on his nose.

“She cast an amnesia spell on herself, I take it?” the man asked, and Cosmo and Timmy nodded.

“That would do it,” he said. “It was probably less painful for her to forget everything than to live with the past.”

Wanda shrugged. That sounded likely, but she didn’t know. Her first memory was holding her wand while sitting upright in the hotel suite bed. Everything before that was a vast, blank canvas.

“I’m going to put you under if that’s all right,” the man said. She shrugged again.

“Does it matter what I say? I don’t have a choice,” she muttered. Cosmo stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. A fleeing but powerful sense of longing rushed through her. She raised her arm to pull him closer.

“They’re not gone, then, just buried,” the man commented. “I could tell by the way she looked at you that she remembers, but not consciously.”

“So, will she remember when she falls unconscious?” Cosmo asked. He held her hand between his and squeezed. Her heart thudded. She remembered that face, especially those eyes and hair. The longing returned, stronger than before, and she ached with it.

“She might. Like I said, she may be consciously suppressing it because she isn’t convinced that she’s safe,” the man said.

“But she is!” Cosmo and Timmy protested.

“Ah, but that’s for her to discover, not you two,” the man scolded. He glanced at Wanda. “I know you don’t want to return to the hotel.”

Wanda half-shrugged. “It’s what I was made for, wasn’t it?”

Cosmo and Timmy looked highly alarmed. Their eyebrows shot up, their mouths dropped open, and Cosmo released her hands in astonishment. Tears welled in his eyes, and they slid down his cheeks. She imagined kissing his tears away, and she avoided his gaze. She didn’t want this, damn it.

Neither the emotions nor the responsibility that came with them.

“We’ll see how you feel once I’ve removed your curses,” the man said. He swung a necklace above her head. “You’re getting very sleepy…”

“Yeah, I am…” Cosmo said, yawning.

“Not you, you idiot!” the man snapped. “If you can’t do anything useful, then get out!”

“I won’t leave her again,” Cosmo said fiercely. “I lost her once…”

She raised her arm again and rested her hand on Cosmo’s neck. His hair was rough and brittle--he must not have been taking care of it, either. Cosmo leaned forward and kissed her (over the man’s objections that she might not want it), and the passion took Wanda’s breath away.

Sympathetic tears formed in her eyes, too, though she didn’t kiss him back.

The man huffed, raised his wand, and the world disappeared. Evidently, hypnosis wasn’t working. Her last sight was Cosmo leaning over her anxiously and saying something, but her hearing faded before her vision.

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

Instead of the hotel, she floated above a child’s bed with Cosmo beside her. It seemed familiar, but not enough for her to place it. Timmy paced, frantic with worry about someone named Trixie Tang misinterpreting his love letters or someone else (like Crocker) intercepting them. Cosmo offered useless suggestions that would probably escalate the situation, and Wanda didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

In her entire time in the hotel, she’d never encountered a child. Plus, she knew she meant something to Timmy beyond what she did as a Seelie slave, and she didn’t know what he wanted from her. The longer he paused, waiting, the more awkward she felt. She wrung her hands.

“Are you okay?” Timmy said, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re acting weird.”

“Why don’t you do what you always do and ignore me?” she said. “Do whatever you want.”

Timmy looked victorious for a few seconds before doubt crept in. “You’re having me on, aren’t you? You’re using reverse psychology so that I won’t do that dangerous stunt I mentioned. Or you’re trying to show me it’s a bad idea by letting me do it and then get busted.”

Wanda shrugged. “It makes no difference to me, sport. I’m going to have to go along with it anyway.”

Timmy gawked. “You sound so defeated. There’s no way you’re my real fairy godmother. Wanda would never let me set off a minor explosion in the janitor’s closet to redirect Crocker so I could sneak into his office and steal back the confiscated love letters.”

“If you say so,” she replied blandly.

Timmy rose to meet her gaze and then squeezed her tightly in an abrupt embrace.

“I love you,” he said. “You’re scaring me and Cosmo.”

Wanda shrugged, wishing she could care more about upsetting them. Tears brimmed in Timmy’s eyes and then slid down his cheeks. This was so out of her element. In the hotel, the Unseelie fairies took what they wanted, did whatever they wished, and then left her worse off than when they’d arrived.

Timmy didn’t like her playing the passive role. She’d stopped fighting long ago; she saw no point. It wasn’t like the curse allowed her to refuse.

“That’s because that’s not her place,” Asmodeus crooned, appearing in thin air and brandishing her wand. He spun it around like one might a cane as a stage performer. Wanda shrank back, and as she did, her hair fell out, her wings and crown disappeared, and her body elongated.

“Should I thank you for taking care of her while I ransacked Fairy World?” Asmodeus sneered. “You had to realize it was only temporary. She belongs to me.”

“She’s my wife!” Cosmo snapped, pointing his wand in Asmodeus’s face. “Get your hands off her!”

Asmodeus snorted, picking her up off the bed and squeezing her breasts. Wanda shuddered; a dull fear surfaced that he might attack her in front of Timmy and Cosmo. When she’d retained her memories, Asmodeus had used that fear to inspire nightmares. That must’ve been another reason to seal them off; to prevent him from manipulating her with her past.

Timmy snarled, throwing himself at Asmodeus’s head with his fist raised to strike. Wanda’s heart was in her throat, especially when Asmodeus knocked him aside with casual disdain.

Cosmo caught Timmy with his wand before he hurt himself. Asmodeus took advantage of their distraction and threw her onto the bed. Wanda’s heart raced.

“Not in front of them,” she whispered. “Please, no.”

“Ah,” Asmodeus said, and malicious glee lit his face. “You are still afraid of something.”

He straddled her, and his erection was sickening. She wanted to beg Cosmo and Timmy to leave, but her mouth was glued shut. The geas slammed down on her out of nowhere, and she knew there was no hope.

“Aren’t you, my little slut?” Asmodeus crooned.

He ripped her shirt off and then screamed. Wanda pushed herself backward, out of his reach, as Asmodeus burst into flames. Warily, she turned her head. Cosmo was blasting Asmodeus with everything he had. No sooner had Asmodeus attempted to circumvent the spell than Cosmo moved to compensate for it and then set him ablaze from head to toe.

Timmy ran to her, and she picked him up to hold him. He turned and hugged her back.

“Come back to us,” Timmy pleaded. “I wish you would.”

Wanda’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I wish I could, too.”

“That’s not what I said!” Timmy protested. He pressed his face against her chest and sobbed. “Please come back. We miss you…”

“No one misses me,” she whispered. Oddly enough, in the past, she would’ve agreed with that sentiment. Now, she had her doubts. Timmy’s misery seemed genuine, and Cosmo’s outrage and fury on her behalf felt real. Cosmo looked like he might burn Asmodeus to cinders. She wouldn’t complain.

“We do too miss you!” Timmy said obstinately. It didn’t faze him that he was crying right above her bra, onto her bare skin. She rubbed his back, which felt natural, and her smile widened.

“Okay, hon,” she said. “You missed me. I believe you.”

“You do?” Timmy said, lifting his tear-stained face. She kissed him on the forehead.

“Still wish you remembered us,” Timmy grumbled.

The comment gave her pause. “You and Cosmo aren’t figments of my imagination, are you?”

Timmy stared at her strangely. “No. Why?”

“Because you wouldn’t be acting like this if you were.”

“You mean acting like our normal selves?” he retorted. Asmodeus was unconscious on the floor after Cosmo had battered the living shit out of him. Wanda laughed weakly. The geas was absent, and when Cosmo handed over his wand, she conjured a giant sword to impale Asmodeus in the groin.

“That’s…not normal for you…” Timmy breathed.

Cosmo’s gaze met hers. “Timmy wished us into your dream.”

“Is Asmodeus real?” she asked, shaking and rubbing her arms.

“No,” Timmy and Cosmo said in unison, and Wanda was so relieved that she collapsed beside the villain. Cosmo and Timmy hugged her from behind.

“It’s over,” Timmy said. “You’re safe.”

Asmodeus vanished, not even leaving blood stains. Wanda worried her lower lip. Wherever Asmodeus had gone, chaos wouldn’t be far behind.

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

When she awoke, she was confused and frightened. Someone was holding her tightly, forcing her arms to her sides, and her fight vs flight kicked in before she realized that someone was also sobbing into her hair.

“Cosmo?” she whispered.

“You remember me?” he asked, moving away so he could look into her eyes. She shook her head, and his expression fell. Tears burned her eyes, and she kissed him. Maybe she didn’t need to keep her memories locked away. Maybe it was safe to be herself again.

Cosmo kissed her passionately back, and she lost herself in him. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat loudly and poked her in the back that she realized they had an audience. Cosmo and Wanda jumped and turned their heads to spy Timmy with his arms folded across his chest.

Wanda’s relief at seeing him as opposed to seeing a member of the Unseelie Court was overwhelming. She thought she was numb, but the tears sliding down her cheeks said otherwise.

“Sorry, sport,” she said, feeling sheepish. Cosmo rolled his eyes at their godson and then leaned in to kiss her again. Apparently, he had no compunctions about making out with her in front of Timmy. She knew, intellectually, that he was her husband, and subconsciously, she could feel the attraction and their long-shared history. Cosmo had joined her on the hospital cot and held her tightly as if he could put all of her broken pieces back together again.

When they broke apart, she whispered, “I love you."

She tousled Timmy’s hair affectionately. "I love both of you.”

“We love you, too,” Timmy reassured her. She gasped back a sob.

“I still wish you’d remember everything,” he grumbled.

“Maybe in time,” she said. “I’m not ready yet.”

“Why not?” Timmy protested.

“I need to get used to the idea that I’m safe,” she replied, closing her eyes. Cosmo kissed her cheek, and she turned her head to reciprocate when she remembered Timmy’s presence. Color suffused her cheeks. If he weren’t there, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop herself.

((Wanda…)) Cosmo whined in her head, and she jumped, startled.

“What?” Timmy said.

“Did you forget we have telepathy?” Cosmo said.

“Actually, yes,” she said, blushing hotter. “I’ve forgotten almost everything, hon, so you’ll have to forgive me.”

“Welcome to my world!” Cosmo said brightly. Their eyes met, and she swallowed hard. She wanted to lose herself in him again and melt into him. Maybe after Timmy went to sleep…

Cosmo intertwined their fingers.

“Is the geas gone?” Timmy asked, sensing he was losing his godparents’ attention.

“Yes,” she said after mentally searching herself. “It is. You have no idea what a relief that is.”

Cosmo pecked her on the lips, and Timmy groaned.

“If you guys are gonna be like that, then I’m leaving,” Timmy complained.

“Sorry,” Wanda said.

“I’m not!” Cosmo said, and Wanda rolled her eyes. Her heart raced, and she pressed her palm against Cosmo’s chest. His heart was pounding, too, and that was oddly reassuring. Asmodeus and his cronies had been in control except when they had grown excited. That wasn’t the case here. Cosmo wasn’t excited to hurt her; he wanted to be with her.

“We’ll behave,” she promised Timmy. She shot Cosmo a warning look.

Cosmo kissed her neck. She was beet red, and her wings fluttered. Wings?

She looked over her shoulder and whooped. Her wings were back, and she reached up to discover her crown. The height discrepancy between her and Cosmo was gone, too. She was herself again, and that was such a profound relief.

“I did what I could,” Abraxas said, poofing in with gray and white fairy dust. “It’s going to take time for you to heal mentally from what happened, but I started the work by restoring your normal form.”

“Thank you,” she said and burst into tears. Cosmo did, too, and they sobbed, clinging to each other. Cosmo licked her lips, and she opened her mouth for them to make out. Asmodeus and Ozymandias had never kissed her. Juandissimo had, oh so long ago.

Juandissimo?

Her memories were returning, albeit slowly. It was probably better than being bombarded with them, which was what Timmy had intended.

“Get a room!” Timmy complained.

“That might not be a bad idea,” Abraxas said. He raised his wand, and Cosmo and Wanda reappeared in their house. She sneezed.

“When was the last time you dusted?” she said and sneezed again. Cosmo raised his wand, removed the dust, and she looked around. They were in their bedroom, and she took his wand to restore the four-poster bed, except large enough for both of them.

“You remember?” he said, and the hopefulness made her heart race.

“I remember enough,” she promised. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget you again.”

“I can’t believe you forgot me to begin with!” Cosmo whined. She swiped his lips with her tongue, and he sucked on her tongue. Blood rushed downward, and she gasped. It’d been months since she’d felt aroused, and between his sucking on her tongue and now caressing her wings, she was wet and willing. What a change of pace that was.

She smiled. She could get used to this.