(no subject)
Fandom: Fairly Oddparents
Canon or AU: AU
Fic: Blank Space
A/N: Updating on alternating weeks seems to work better for me.
A few quick notes--I’ve always wanted to play with C/W being Timmy’s real parents because C/W > his biological parents.
Two--I was a paralegal as an undergrad, and while my legal knowledge is rusty, I cobbled together the best advice a lawyer could give someone in Mr. Turner’s situation while combining my state law with California’s.
Also…do you have any idea how weird it is to call him Poof now? I’ve only seen one ep that he’s in (yeah, yeah, I know I’m way behind), and the fandom is calling him Peri exclusively now, so “Poof” sounds strange.
---------------------
“She thinks Tootie has magic?!” Timmy exclaimed.
“I warned you those wishes would get you into trouble someday, sport,” Wanda said, arms folded across her chest. “You didn’t listen.”
“I never listen to you,” Timmy huffed. He glared at the floor and avoided her reproachful gaze. “I screwed up. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it’d blow back in my face this soon.”
“Oh? So you admit that you knew this would backfire eventually?” Wanda snapped. She was exhausted; she’d been plagued by nightmares regarding that stupid comic book, and she was wracked with guilt over Tootie. The longer she stayed here, the greater chance Vicky had to pin Tootie down and either hurt her or cause Tootie to reveal her secret. She’d hoped Timmy would be more amenable to helping Tootie instead of dragging his feet like a recalcitrant toddler.
Timmy grimaced. “Between you and Cosmo fighting, and my parents fighting, and Crocker, and Vicky, and everything else…I made a few dumb wishes. Big deal.”
“Don’t try to lay this all on us,” Wanda said, unfolding her arms. “You need to help Tootie.”
“If you hadn’t volunteered to be her godparent, Vicky wouldn’t be onto her,” Timmy snapped.
“And I suppose all of those awful wishes were swept under the rug?” Wanda retorted. “I became Tootie’s godmother after you nearly caused the Earth to launch into WWIII.”
“I didn’t think it was going to happen!” Timmy said defensively. “Violent wishes are against Da Rules.”
“But elaborately strung coincidences aren’t,” she said. “How else do you think WWI got started when our magic was abused? Why do you think that rule is there in the first place?”
“You guys sure screw up a lot,” Timmy muttered. Wanda’s eyes flashed.
“She abused our magic,” Wanda said stiffly. “What’s your excuse?”
“Wanda!” Tootie cried, and Wanda flinched. Cosmo looked worried, and she sighed. Evidently, renewing their magical bond last night meant Cosmo could hear Wanda being summoned, too. Tootie needed her, and Timmy was being mulish. Wanda wanted to scream and shake him.
“What part of ‘this might be life or death’ did you not understand?” Wanda added. “You need to help Tootie.”
“Why?” Timmy snapped. “She stole you away from me. I’m taking you back.”
“I didn’t know you were a football!” Cosmo said, and Wanda groaned, facepalming.
“I’m not,” she said flatly. “Timmy, I don’t know how much clearer I can make this. Tootie is in serious danger here, and part of the reason Vicky is so suspicious is…oh, no…”
Wanda’s gaze had drifted over Cosmo’s shoulder.
“I thought that I was the one with the short attention span,” Timmy complained and then followed her gaze. “...oh. Shit.”
“Hello, Cosmo,” Big Daddy snarled. Wanda wrung her hands; Tootie was still calling for her, and Wanda would never be able to escape with Big Daddy on Earth. Timmy’s stalling tactics, though he hadn’t intentionally held her back, meant Tootie was on her own. She’d be angrier with Timmy if she weren’t terrified of what Big Daddy might do to Cosmo.
“Hi!” Cosmo said, blithely unaware of her father’s murderous rage. “Hi, Dad!”
He threw himself onto the mafioso, who blasted him into Timmy’s back wall. Cosmo left a nice impression beside Timmy’s window. Wanda hastily lowered the blinds. You could never tell when Crocker might be lurking and waiting to pounce.
“You’re lucky I haven’t separated your head from your shoulders yet,” Big Daddy said coldly.
Cosmo magicked off his head and bounced it around. Wanda winced; Cosmo might think he was being cute, but she could feel her father’s temper rising. If they were human, Cosmo might’ve been a Darwin Award winner. Her father might still try that.
“Cute,” Big Daddy snapped, reattached Cosmo’s head, and conjured a sword. Cosmo dodged it as it flew toward his torso. Wanda groaned, feeling ill.
“What’s wrong?” Cosmo said, staring at her.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Big Daddy snapped. “For breaking my daughter’s heart.”
“Uh, because we got back together?” Cosmo suggested.
“She’s too soft on you,” Big Daddy snapped. “I won’t be.”
Her heart was in her throat. “Daddy, please. He’s trying to make amends. Don’t hurt him.”
“Wait, he was going to hurt me?” Cosmo said, and Timmy and Wanda facepalmed.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Big Daddy growled.
“See? There’s nothing to worry about!” Cosmo said brightly. The next sword skewered Cosmo in the stomach and pinned him to Timmy’s wall. Before Cosmo had a chance to free himself, Big Daddy yanked his wand out of his hand.
“I’m gonna make you suffer first,” Big Daddy snapped. “Like you made Wanda suffer.”
“I wish Cosmo were free!” Timmy blurted.
“I can’t grant your wishes, sport,” Wanda said, looking pained. “I’m Tootie’s godmother right now, not yours.”
“Then where are Nathaniel and Magdalene?” Timmy demanded.
“Probably with Chloe,” Wanda said. Tootie’s calls were stronger and more insistent. It was almost impossible to ignore her, but Wanda couldn’t leave Cosmo in the lurch. Cosmo tried yanking the sword out, and she yelped, stopping him before he did serious damage.
“What? I feel like a shish-kabob,” Cosmo said.
“That sword is holding your blood in, you idiot,” Wanda snapped.
“That’s a good thing, right?” Cosmo said, and she sighed. Tootie was perilously close to discovering the right combination of words and magic to compel Wanda to her side. Wanda knew Tootie was doing it out of desperation, but it didn’t make it any easier to stomach. Cosmo tugged on the sword again, and she held his hands still.
“You’re not Timmy’s godmother anymore?” Big Daddy said. Wanda paled; Cosmo’s gaze upon her was intent and pleading. She had no idea how he’d fare if she left, especially without his wand. His only hope would be if Timmy could somehow wrestle it and return it to Cosmo. Or she could loan Cosmo hers.
“Then you shouldn’t be here,” Big Daddy said.
“Wanda Fairywinkle-Cosma!”
“Wow, she sounds kinda pissed,” Cosmo commented. “I wonder what’s going on.”
“Never mind that,” Wanda snapped. True name spells didn’t work anymore, thankfully, but if they were mixed with a locator spell, she’d have no choice but to obey. Virtually no godchildren discovered that little trick, especially since they were mundane and had no magical blood. Tootie, on the other hand…
“Daddy, I’m not upset anymore,” she said, reduced to pleading. “I’m…”
Wanda reappeared in Tootie’s bedroom and facepalmed. Tootie had figured out how to force her to poof elsewhere.
“...not going to be able to save him. Great.”
“Save whom?” Tootie snapped. A streak of blood ran across her forehead, and Wanda crossed her fingers it didn’t sparkle like full-blooded fairies’ blood did. They could keep her secret a little longer.
Wanda was haunted by the mental image of Cosmo skewered on Timmy’s wall.
“I need to save Cosmo,” Wanda said. “You have to let me go back.”
Vicky cackled, blowing aside the furniture she’d stacked outside of Tootie’s bedroom with her flamethrower. Everything crumbled to ashes, but the butterfly net remained intact. Wanda shivered, shifting into a fly on the wall. It was the smallest thing she could think of that might avoid Vicky’s notice. Wanda’s heart was pounding so hard that she could feel it pulsing at her temples.
“If I turn this on you, and you don’t die, then I’ll know there’s something fishy going on,” Vicky said, grinning evilly and shaking the flamethrower for emphasis. Tootie gulped and darted to the side to avoid the flamethrower. Wanda’s jaw dropped. She knew how little Vicky valued Tootie and children in general, but Vicky couldn’t possibly think she’d get away with immolating her sister.
“I wish the flamethrower broke,” Tootie whispered. Wanda sighed, relieved, as the spell took effect.
“I thought that might happen,” Vicky said, tossing aside the flamethrower blithely. Wanda had a bad feeling, and she didn’t know whether to attribute it to Vicky’s plots or Cosmo’s predicament. Vicky wouldn’t have abandoned the flamethrower unless she had a contingency plan. Tootie sidled out the door and tried to make a run for it.
Vicky produced an enormous butterfly net that she’d somehow kept in her pocket without Wanda noticing. Cackling, she rushed after Tootie, and Wanda hastened after them.
“I wish the floor was slippery!” Tootie whispered.
Vicky crashed to the carpet and then snarled, hitting a button on the butterfly net handle. Wanda didn’t know how to warn Tootie, especially when she was in disguise. Moreover, Tootie had made the floor slick, but she hadn’t limited it to Vicky. Tootie slipped, and the butterfly net enveloped her. Wanda crossed her fingers and prayed frantically that butterfly nets had no effect on half-bloods beyond nullifying their magic.
Vicky reeled Tootie in and snorted, turning the net so she could look her in the eye. Wanda hissed.
Everything would’ve looked normal except the butterfly net had also obliterated the glamour protecting Tootie from being noticed by normal humans. Wanda had no idea who had put the fairy glamour on Tootie, whether it was the Council or someone else, but it was gone. A half-crown floated above Tootie’s head, and wings appeared on her back.
“Uh, hi,” Tootie said and smiled sheepishly, obviously hoping her sister hadn’t noticed her transformation. Fairy glamour was invisible unless you could cast it. Then, you could see through illusions. Tootie had been safe until the net ripped away all magic, passive or active.
“What’s this?” Vicky said and grinned evilly. “I don’t remember seeing any humans with crowns or wings. It matches what Crocker said about fairies, though.”
She scoffed. “Crazy old coot.”
“How can you think I’m a fairy?” Tootie cried. “I’m your sister.”
“No, you’re not,” Vicky snapped. Wanda experienced an unpleasant moment of deja vu with Timmy and his father. In that case, Wanda thought Mr. Turner might be redeemable at some point and recant. Vicky, on the other hand, would be more likely to burn her life savings than apologize to someone she considered inferior and under her control.
Something in Vicky’s pocket beeped, and she pulled it out with one hand while holding onto the net with the other. Wanda’s blood ran cold. Crocker’s fairy detector. It was beeping at Tootie, but when Vicky moved it, it was honing in on Wanda, too.
“Two fairies? Is this thing malfunctioning?” Vicky said. Tootie sought Wanda desperately. Being a pink fly should’ve rendered Wanda more or less invisible. That would’ve worked if the tracker weren’t running off her magic.
Vicky shrugged, released the net to smack the tracker, and then curb-stomped the butterfly net to prevent Tootie from fleeing. Dragging the net and Tootie along the floor, Vicky brandished the net she’d draped over Tootie’s furniture earlier.
“Come out, come out, little fairy,” Vicky taunted.
Wanda wanted to scream and pull her hair out. She couldn’t leave Tootie with Vicky, but she had no idea what was happening with Cosmo and her father. Either way, someone would get hurt. The only way she could see through this would be if Magdalene, Nathaniel, or Timmy distracted Big Daddy and Vicky. Big Daddy wouldn’t listen to Wanda, and she’d always had difficulty standing up to him. The same went for Tootie and Vicky--Tootie was too afraid of Vicky to assert herself.
The tracker beeped again, and Wanda frowned. She hadn’t seen another fairy come in.
Something barreled into Vicky, knocked her off the butterfly net, and then sent her stumbling down the stairs. It looked like a pink and brown version of Doidle, and the dog had a crown over its head. Wanda almost fainted with relief.
Magdalene. Hopefully, that meant Nathaniel was trying to calm things down with Cosmo and Big Daddy. She wished him luck. That would be no mean feat.
Fairy World would have to mindwipe Vicky. Knowing that Tootie had magic gave Vicky too much power. Wanda knew Vicky wouldn’t hesitate to exploit Tootie for everything it was worth.
“Thank you,” she whispered to Magdalene, who inclined her head.
“Timmy and Chloe thought you might need a little extra help,” Magdalene responded. Wanda nodded, beyond grateful, and then shifted into a Saint Bernard. Between her and Magdalene, they ran Vicky out of the house and freed Tootie. Wanda froze Vicky before she got halfway down the street; she couldn’t risk Vicky blabbing about Tootie’s secret, especially to Crocker.
“That’s one problem dealt with,” Magdalene said, grimacing. “Sort of.”
“I don’t think Cosmo is dead,” Wanda said, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, with my father, that leaves a lot of wiggle room.”
------------------------------------
Timmy’s heart was in his throat. He didn’t know what was happening with Wanda; Big Daddy had frozen Cosmo to prevent him from yanking out the sword. Until now, Timmy had been unaware that anything could seriously hurt a fairy. (Then again, it wasn’t like Timmy was up on fairy lore, either.)
Big Daddy ignored Timmy and then silenced him magically. Timmy’s chest tightened. When Nathaniel arrived, Timmy jumped and almost hugged him in relief. He couldn’t remember being grateful to see Magdalene or Nathaniel before, but he sure as hell was now. Nathaniel floated before Cosmo.
“You can’t kill him,” Nathaniel said. Timmy was less mollified when Nathaniel’s voice shook.
“Who are you?” Big Daddy snapped. “And who are you to tell me what to do?”
“I’m one of Timmy’s godparents,” Nathaniel said. Pink fairy dust rained down, and Magdalene and Wanda appeared. Timmy’s chest loosened slightly. Cosmo struggled against the paralysis spell, and Timmy tried not to imagine Cosmo bleeding out. The image was terrifying; somehow, he’d forgotten how dangerous Big Daddy could be when enraged. Timmy had underestimated him to his detriment.
“How many fairies do you have, kid?” Big Daddy snapped and then shook his head. Cosmo’s eyes lit up when Wanda returned. She pressed her wand into his hand, and he expelled the sword and healed himself. Cosmo and Wanda sighed, relieved, and Cosmo hugged her.
“I…I appreciate what you’re trying to do…” Wanda said. Like Nathaniel, her voice trembled. Unlike Nathaniel, her whole body shook, too. Timmy pointed desperately at his throat to indicate that he was mute, and Magdalene waved her wand.
“Thanks,” he said, and she inclined her head. Magdalene, Nathaniel, Cosmo, and Wanda were all staring at Big Daddy. Wanda hugged Cosmo back; it might’ve been Timmy’s imagination, but Wanda’s grip on Cosmo looked painful.
“I wish Big Daddy would return to Fairy World and leave Cosmo alone,” Timmy said. Big Daddy snarled, glaring at Timmy.
“This isn’t over, kid,” he snapped and glared at Cosmo. “Don’t think you’re off the hook.”
He vanished; if fairy dust clouds could be angry, Big Daddy’s definitely was. Timmy’s knees knocked, and he collapsed onto his bed. That was too close for comfort. The mental image of Cosmo skewered wasn’t about to leave him any time soon. He and Wanda would be haunted by that for a while.
Cosmo and Wanda crashed onto the bed beside Timmy.
“You came back!” Cosmo said.
Wanda sighed. “Vicky knows Tootie’s a half-fairy. Crocker gave her two butterfly nets, and Vicky almost caught me, too. Magdalene and I apprehended Vicky; she’s currently in stasis and pending a mindwipe. Hopefully, that’ll take care of Vicky’s earlier suspicions with those disastrous wishes.”
“Sorry,” Timmy mumbled. “I should’ve listened to you.”
“Yes, you should have,” Wanda said sharply. She cupped Cosmo’s cheek in her palm. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
“He wasn’t really going to kill me, was he?” Cosmo said. “He loves me.”
“No,” Wanda said, looking away. “He wanted to kill you. He probably still does. Timmy’s wish deterred him temporarily, but Big Daddy will return.”
“It’s possible to kill a fairy?” Timmy said. “I thought you guys were immortal.”
“‘Immortal’ doesn’t mean immune to death,” Wanda said, sighing. “A long time ago, just being near iron sickened us. Fairy World fixed that with a shot, but any weapons made of iron can kill us.”
Timmy paled.
“That sword…” Timmy said slowly, and she nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “That’s why I panicked when Cosmo tried to remove the sword. He would’ve bled out.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she clutched Cosmo tightly. If Timmy had been terrified, he could only imagine how badly Wanda had taken it. Cosmo and Wanda’s eyes met, and they kissed. Wanda was still trembling.
Timmy grimaced. “Should I ask about Tootie?”
Wanda’s eyes flashed. “Yes, you should, since I almost didn’t get there in time.”
“She’s okay now, though, isn’t she?” Cosmo asked, and Wanda nodded.
“I should probably go back and check on her,” Wanda said.
“NO!” Cosmo and Timmy said in unison. “Stay here!”
Wanda sighed, raising her wand. “I’ll be right back.”
“I'm getting seriously sick of her ditching us,” Timmy snapped, folding his arms across his chest. Cosmo whined, looking at Wanda’s dust disconsolately. Timmy groaned, facepalming.
“If you wanna go after her, then go,” Timmy snapped.
“Okay!”
Cosmo poofed off, and Timmy flopped onto the bed. Nathaniel and Magdalene floated above him. He curled onto his side. When he’d awoken this morning, Timmy had searched for his father everywhere, hoping he might’ve stayed. Instead, his mother had handed him a note.
Timmy hadn’t looked at it; he feared he knew what was in it. His father wasn’t coming home again, not unless Timmy forced the issue. Throat tight, he clenched his eyes shut. His father didn’t want him; summoning him was pointless. After all, Mr. Turner had called him “demon spawn.”
Timmy burst into tears, and although Magdalene and Nathaniel hugged him and he knew they meant well, it wasn’t the same. It felt like someone had wrenched his heart out of his chest and then smashed it with a baseball bat until it was flat and lifeless. The metaphor made Timmy cry harder.
He told himself that Cosmo and Wanda wanted him. They’d said nothing about the wish he’d made last night about them being his real parents, but he was sure they hadn’t forgotten. Or, rather, Wanda hadn’t forgotten. To say Cosmo had the memory of a goldfish was insulting to a goldfish.
“I wish my dad loved me again,” Timmy whimpered.
He jumped when he saw something flash behind his eyelids. Cosmo, Wanda, and Tootie had appeared. Tootie glared at Timmy; she was holding onto Wanda hard enough that Wanda’s arms looked bloodless. Timmy was too relieved they’d returned so quickly to care that Tootie was here. He rubbed his eyes.
“You know we can’t grant wishes about love,” Magdalene said softly.
“What wish?” Wanda asked, frowning. “We were only gone for, like, a minute.”
“How do we miss all the fun stuff?” Cosmo complained. He wrapped an arm around Wanda’s waist, which was difficult because he had to maneuver it around Tootie’s grip.
“I wished my dad would love me again,” Timmy muttered. “You didn’t miss anything.”
“Oh, hon, I don’t think your father stopped loving you,” Wanda said. Magdalene and Nathaniel vanished, possibly to check on Chloe, possibly back to Fairy World. Timmy didn’t care.
“Wait. Why would you think your dad stopped loving you?” Tootie said.
“You didn’t tell her?” he asked Wanda. She shook her head.
“It’s not my place to tell her,” she said. Gratitude rushed through him, and he tackled her, Tootie, and Cosmo to the bed. Wanda squeaked.
“You’re…crushing me…” she protested faintly.
“Sorry,” Timmy said sheepishly. He and Tootie straightened up and gave Wanda space. Wanda regained her breath, sighed, and leaned against Cosmo. He smoothed her curls off her forehead.
“What did I miss last night?” she asked Cosmo, pushing him away gently so she could look him in the eyes.
“Not much,” Cosmo said. She raised her eyebrows and looked skeptical. “I told you that his dad called him a demon spawn and left.”
Wanda folded her arms across her chest. “Your overview leaves a few things to be desired, hon.”
“You’re not a demon!” Tootie said, latching onto Timmy’s arm. “You’re an average kid that no one understands.”
“Mom and Dad and Vicky always giving him commands…” Cosmo sang. Wanda facepalmed.
“Not Dad anymore,” Timmy said sourly. He huddled in on himself and hugged his knees. “Dad doesn’t want anything to do with me now that he knows I’m a Dinkleberg. I might as well read that stupid note Mom gave me.”
“He wished for his father to come home,” Cosmo explained as Timmy snagged the note off the nightstand. “It didn’t go well.”
“I didn’t think it would,” Wanda said. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”
“Since when are you a Dinkleberg?” Tootie said.
“So much for this being easier with both of them here,” Wanda muttered. “I guess I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“I never think ahead!” Cosmo said.
“You seldom think at all,” she chided, but there was no rancor in it. Her gaze was upon Timmy as he unfolded the note. She and Cosmo floated over Timmy’s shoulders to read it.
“Timmy,
“I’m sorry that I was never your father. I’m leaving you and your mother the house--I’m moving out of California. I can’t stand the thought of being near--”
Timmy choked and dissolved into tears again. There’d been a “dear” at the beginning, but his father had crossed it out. Timmy couldn’t keep reading; his vision was blurry, and knowing how the note must end made him feel worse.
Cosmo and Wanda took over reading.
“--someone I thought was my son but isn’t. Last night was the last time we’ll see each other. Have a good life.
Your not-father,
Mr. Turner.”
Cosmo and Wanda hugged Timmy tightly, and he spun in their grip to sob, brokenhearted, against his godparents. Tears fell into his hair; his godparents were crying sympathetically. He was startled when someone else hugged him--he’d almost forgotten Tootie was there. He ignored her.
“Oh, Timmy…” Wanda breathed. “Sport, I’m so, so sorry.”
“For what? You didn’t do anything,” Timmy said. His breath hitched, and he sobbed harder. “Dad doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want to see me again, either. And I’m gonna lose you one way or another.”
“Lose them?” Tootie repeated.
“Godchildren will lose their fairies in one of three ways,” Wanda said quietly. “Either they accidentally reveal their existence, break Da Rules so badly that Jorgen takes them away, or age out. We have to leave when they turn eighteen, and their memories get wiped.”
“That’s awful!” Tootie exclaimed.
“How do you think we feel?” Cosmo countered.
“I wish you two were my real parents,” Timmy said stubbornly. “You said it could happen.”
“We said it was possible,” Wanda said. “Sport, this isn’t a wish you can throw out without consequences. It involves a lot of magic, and--”
“I don’t care,” he said flatly. “Don’t make excuses. At least you two love me, unlike my parents.”
Wanda winced. “Your parents love you.”
“Don’t lie,” Timmy snapped. “You’re a terrible liar, and you know it. Even if Mom loves me, Dad doesn’t want me. You do.”
“Can he wish for you two to be his real parents?” Tootie asked. Wanda nodded. Timmy felt the movement against his head.
“He can, but, like I said, this is a big wish,” Wanda said. “It requires us to restructure reality.”
Timmy snorted. “Like that’s ever been a problem before.”
“We’ve never done it like this before,” Cosmo said.
“We’d have to alter the laws of nature, not to mention changing the timelines, past, present, and future,” Wanda added.
“I don’t care,” Timmy snapped. “You’re making excuses.”
Wanda sighed, pulling away from him and Cosmo. Cosmo whined, and when Timmy opened his eyes, he saw Wanda roll hers.
“No, we’re not,” she said. “The more you keep wishing for that, the greater the chance the Council or Jorgen is going to notice.”
“Then what? Give me another lecture on what not to do, blah blah blah?” Timmy scoffed. Cosmo was paging through Da Rules, and Wanda joined him.
“It’s not against Da Rules, is it?” Tootie asked.
“I don’t think so…” Wanda said, chewing her lower lip. “But a wish this big usually requires a magic muffin.”
“Not to mention you’re not Timmy’s godmother anymore,” Tootie said. Timmy glared.
“You’re seriously going to keep her? Out of spite?” Timmy snapped.
“If you and Cosmo didn’t treat her so badly that she felt she had to leave--” Tootie began, puffing up like an angry cat.
“Maybe if you didn’t have to steal my godmother,” Timmy countered.
“We’ll work this out,” Wanda said. “Quit it, both of you.”
“I wish Wanda would remain my godmother!” Tootie snapped.
“I wish Cosmo and Wanda were my real parents, and I’m sick of being put off!” Timmy snapped. Their wishes coincided, and Wanda groaned, facepalming. Timmy didn’t care as long as his wish was granted.
They appeared in Jorgen’s office. The muscle-bound fairy looked pissed, but since that was his normal expression, Timmy didn’t take it too seriously.
“I am getting extremely tired of cleaning up your messes, Timmy Turner,” Jorgen growled. He glared at Tootie, too.
“Your wishes cannot be granted simultaneously. They contradict each other.”
“Then what?” Timmy asked, folding his arms across his chest.
Jorgen sighed, landing so hard in his chair that it fell out of midair and crashed into the floor. Jorgen remedied that with a wand flick.
“I do not know. This is the first time this situation has ever arisen,” Jorgen admitted, his anger fading. He looked like Timmy and Tootie had given him a colossal headache.
“I will have to consult with the Fairy World Council,” Jorgen said, vanishing and leaving them in his office. Timmy rounded on Tootie.
“This is your fault,” he snapped.
“How is it my fault when I’ve just wanted someone who loves and cares for me once in my life?” Tootie protested, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m sorry about your dad, but my parents are so afraid of Vicky that they won’t go near me, even on a good day.
“Vicky terrorizes anyone who wants to get close to me, and people stopped trying years ago.”
“Oh!” Wanda said, slapping a hand to her forehead. “I knew I forgot something.”
She raised her wand. A trussed-up, unconscious Vicky appeared in a huddle on the floor. It might’ve been Timmy’s dark mood, but he laughed and took a picture with his phone. He was tempted to kick Vicky, too, for good measure, but Wanda’s glare stopped him in his tracks.
“Don’t,” she snapped.
“Ugh, fine,” he said. He met Tootie’s gaze; she was crying too hard to see. Timmy’s stomach twisted because he felt guilty. They’d gotten into this mess by comparing problems. That never helped. Timmy had a miserable life, but so did Tootie. It wasn’t fair to compare.
“I’m in love with you, and you won’t give me the time of day,” Tootie continued, sniffling. “You’ve been obsessed with Trixie Tang since I’ve known you, and now, you’ve probably got a crush on Chloe Carmichael to boot!”
Timmy decided it’d be safer not to respond and add more fuel to the fire.
“Is it so wrong of me to want something good for myself for once?” Tootie said, her purple eyes flashing.
Timmy shuffled, feeling awkward. In a small voice, he said, “But why did it have to be my fairy? Why can’t you get your own?”
“Because I--” Tootie started, but Timmy never heard the rest. They appeared in Fairy World’s court, and Timmy groaned, facepalming.
“I warned you, sport,” Wanda said tensely. “I told you that you were going to attract the wrong kind of attention.”
“Any attention is better than none!” Cosmo said. Timmy ignored him.
“What now?” Timmy said, not even glancing at Cosmo.
“I’m not sure,” Wanda admitted. “But I think we’re in trouble.”
“What else is new?” Timmy scoffed. “It wouldn’t be a normal day unless I piss Jorgen off at least once.”
Wanda’s smile was faint and humorless. “This isn’t a ‘normal day,’ hon. Not if we’re in Fairy Court.”
She sighed, wilting in midair. “Between your wish and Tootie’s, we have a big problem. I’m not sure how we’re going to fix it when the wishes are incompatible.”
The judge banged the gavel down, and they reappeared on the defense’s side of the court. Wanda muttered something that sounded like an Italian curse. Timmy raised his eyebrows.
“I didn’t know you spoke Italian,” he said.
“She’s fluent in it,” Cosmo said, and Timmy blinked, taken aback.
“I didn’t know that!” Timmy said.
“You never asked,” Cosmo said, shrugging.
“Attention, attention!” the judge snapped. “Court is now in session.”
He glared and pointed his gavel at the defense table where Timmy, Tootie, Cosmo, and Wanda were arrayed. “You four are in a lot of trouble.”
----------------------------------
Mr. Turner had a wicked hangover. The last time, he’d tried the hair of the dog but it’d only increased his nausea. Thankfully, his lawyer had a relatively quick fix, though Mr. Turner suspected it might be the placebo effect. Then again, if Mr. Turner could randomly show up on his front lawn, then it didn’t take much suspension of disbelief to think he could banish his hangover with a strange serum that had the consistency of molasses but tasted far worse.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Mr. Turner?” the lawyer asked. They were seated in Mr. Decker’s office--Mr. Decker, esquire, and family lawyer. Numerous leatherbound voluminous tomes sat on bookshelves around his office. On the wall on Mr. Turner’s left were the degrees Mr. Decker had acquired from various institutions, which meant nothing to him except for a larger bill.
The office door was closed to avoid disturbing the paralegal, who was in the middle of typing up her attorney’s notes for the next client. Through the door, Mr. Turner heard soft, melodious music drift through. It sounded vaguely Celtic, which brought to mind supernatural things. He shook it off--he didn’t know if demons were associated with Celtic mythology, but he knew fairies were. He didn’t want to think about either creature.
A white ceiling fan rotated slowly overhead and provided a soft clacking beat more than producing cooler air. Mr. Turner glanced at it briefly and then down at the table, where his wallpaper had changed to a black screen. Mr. Decker glanced at the phone and grimaced.
“It used to be my wife and son,” Mr. Turner explained. He folded his arms across his chest. “Now, I don’t want to be reminded.”
“This type of arrangement is very unorthodox, Mr. Turner,” Mr. Decker warned. “It was less so during the late 80s and earlier, but family courts have changed since then.”
He leaned forward. He had carrot-colored red hair, freckles, and bright green eyes. His black suit, which probably cost more than Mr. Turner made in a month, was immaculate. He was slim, trim, and in his late 20s or early 30s; he was younger than Mr. Turner, yet he had clearly gone further. Mr. Turner tried not to be resentful of Mr. Decker’s youth and attractiveness. Regardless of age, any attractive man brought Mr. Turner's wounds to light again.
“Dinkleberg…” Mr. Turner growled.
“Yes, about that,” Mr. Decker said, grimacing. His thin pink lips creased. “The courts are also going to see that you helped raise the boy. Paternity isn’t always about biology. Timothy considers you his father. When you first came to me, you called him your son.”
“He’s not my son anymore,” Mr. Turner growled. “He never was.”
He folded his arms across his chest.
“I understand that this is difficult for you,” Mr. Decker said. He straightened his red polka-dot tie, and Mr. Turner’s gaze slid down to a couple of pins at the bottom.
“Oh, those? My kids bought them for me,” Mr. Decker said. “Aren’t they cute? A little blue dragon and a black unicorn.”
Mr. Turner huffed. “What’s the big deal? You can do it, can’t you?”
“The courts try to consider your son’s interests,” Mr. Decker cautioned. “You’re letting bitterness shade your feelings about Timothy.”
“Are they going to give me a hard time about this or not?” Mr. Turner asked testily.
Mr. Decker massaged his temples. “Mr. Turner, ‘no contact’ is generally used as a last resort in domestic violence cases. It’s not used in normal irreconcilable difference cases. The judge will order it if he thinks there’s a real and visible danger to your wife and son, but I have a hard time imagining it.
“You allowed a hulking gray child--”
“A scary gray child, ” Mr. Turner interrupted. Mr. Decker rolled his eyes.
“You allowed him to assault you without fighting back. I doubt the judge is going to consider you threatening to Timothy or Julie-Ann.”
“So, you’re saying I can’t go no-contact,” Mr. Turner said flatly.
“I’m advising you not to. A parent can always relinquish their right to custody, especially if it’s in the best interests of the child. I’ve spoken to Mrs. Turner. I can’t go along with this--the effects look like they might be devastating for Timmy.”
“You won’t do it?” Mr. Turner snapped.
“You want to fight for her to have sole custody, no contact, and for you to have no visitation rights,” Mr. Decker said slowly. “I’m not sure that’s even what you want, Mr. Turner.”
“Don’t tell me what I want! You’re my lawyer!”
Mr. Decker sighed. “Mrs. Turner has a greater chance at custody with Timothy due to the ‘tender age doctrine,’ which states that the child’s age must be taken into account, such as their schooling and social connections.
“However, courts today usually try to involve both parents in their children’s lives. As I said before, it is exceedingly unlikely they’ll grant her sole custody and deny you visitation rights, especially if you two can’t agree.”
“I can make her agree,” Mr. Turner insisted.
Mr. Decker raised his bushy red eyebrows. “You shouldn’t be telling me this. Also, manipulating your wife won’t necessarily mean the judge will rule against you unless there’s something you’ve not informed me of.”
Mr. Turner sagged. “No. It’s just painful to see him. Since he’s not my son, I wish I’d never have to see him again.”
“I understand that, but reconciliation would be in Timmy’s best interests,” Mr. Decker warned. “You’re doing more harm than good by spiting him.”
“He’s a Dinkleberg!” Mr. Turner snapped as if that explained everything. To him, it did.
“He doesn’t deserve to be punished for an accident of birth.”
Mr. Turner huffed. Everyone said he was being completely irrational about Timmy’s paternity. He didn’t agree; they didn’t understand what it felt like when your mortal enemy stole away the one thing that made you better than him. The one thing Mr. Turner had that Sheldon Dinkleberg didn’t.
“You’re welcome to find another attorney, Mr. Turner. I warn you that finding a different opinion may be a more difficult matter.”
Mr. Turner glared. “I’ll consider it.”
A giant wave swept over them. For a few seconds, all Mr. Turner saw were pink and green sparkles, and his mind blanked.
When everything settled down again, Mr. Turner frowned at the attorney. “What am I doing here? I love my wife. I don’t want to divorce her.”
He glanced at the oak table, where Mrs. Turner stood with a small boy wearing a silly pink hat. The boy vanished as he watched.
“I don’t know what you’re doing here, either,” Mr. Decker said. “Have a nice day.”
Mr. Turner nodded and shuddered, feeling like someone had whispered his name on the edge of hearing. He walked through the corridors with the strangest feeling that he’d forgotten something important. Shrugging, he decided it couldn’t matter that much if it wasn’t coming back to him.
A picture fluttered out of his pocket and landed on the parking lot asphalt. In it, Mr. and Mrs. Turner stood with an eleven-year-old boy wearing a silly pink hat and holding two goldfish in a bowl. By the time anyone might’ve thought to save the picture, it had disintegrated between the rain and cars passing by.
-------------------------
“We will do this on a trial basis only,” the judge warned Timmy, Cosmo, and Wanda. “The only way this will work is if you’re willing to share your fairies.”
“That’s fine with me as long as I don’t have to share Wanda anymore,” Timmy said.
Tootie glowered, and her eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Wanda said, glancing between the children with a lump in her throat.
“Wait,” Timmy said, holding up his hand before the judge decreed the wish valid. “What happens to Poof?”
The judge smiled thinly. Cosmo and Wanda latched onto each other.
With a nasty smile, the judge said, “Perhaps you should have thought of that before making this wish.”
Then, without another word, he slammed down the gavel and a tidal wave of magic flew out the doors and ran through Dimmsdale, California.