(no subject)

[soulfulsin]

Fandom: Fairly Oddparents
Canon or AU: AU

Fic: Blank Space

A/N: This is the last chapter! “The final anti-fairy! The anti-fairy final!” I’ve played Breakin’ Da Rules so many times I have C/W’s lines memorized.

Anyway…there’s an Easter egg Doctor Who reference.

And also, the alternate history that Timmy creates sounds like fun, no lie. Not for fairies, obviously. lol

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The magical wave swept through Fairy World, too, and in Spellementary, Foop was pontificating about his superiority when the wave snagged him and Poof. The two hardly had time to yelp before they vanished. The other students stared in shock. No one knew what to do or how to react.

Within a few seconds, the issue was immaterial. They forgot Poof and Foop ever existed.

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

Timmy woke up in a fluffy bed that felt supernaturally soft, and he stretched. He’d been having a strange dream, and while he couldn’t remember specifics, he felt perturbed. Shuddering, he reached for his wand on the bedside table and then halted, gawking at his surroundings.

This wasn’t his bedroom. That wasn’t his bed. Moreover, he’d never possessed a wand. The only times he’d ever held one were when his godparents had lost theirs, or he’d pilfered them. Timmy was human.

Wasn’t he?

He grabbed the wand anyway, and it felt right in his hand like it was meant to be there. Puzzled, he poofed to the floor-length mirror to the left of his canopy bed. He floated above the floor with a crown glowing over his silly pink hat. When he reached behind him, his wings fluttered. They felt oddly silky and smooth; Timmy hadn’t touched Cosmo and Wanda’s wings on purpose before. It had always felt strange, like a violation of their personal space.

He spent a few seconds wondering whether the wings were what caused fairies to float or if there was another magical trick he didn’t know about. The window to the right of his bed caught his attention, and he forgot his previous train of thought. He was in Fairy World, and he was a fairy.

Timmy whooped, delighted. “It worked! I must be Cosmo and Wanda’s son! I must be…”

His enthusiasm waned. Intuitively, he used his wand, pointed it at the wall to turn it into a projector screen, and sought Poof. His heart hammered between his ears. Surely, the judge wouldn’t have done anything rash or ill-advised after his wish. Timmy should be able to locate Poof with no problem.

He would…if Poof still existed. His wish had wiped their son, his godbrother, out of the universe.

“No!” he cried, alarmed. Tears sprang to his eyes. He hadn’t meant for this. Cosmo and Wanda usually remembered his wishes, even when he didn’t, and he poofed to the kitchen in a hurry. His godparents were absent, which meant they were probably on Earth.

He impulsively jumped to Earth and Dimmsdale. Cosmo and Wanda were Tootie’s godparents, and Timmy discovered the trio waiting outside school near a giant oak tree where they wouldn’t be overheard. Heart in his throat, he created a magical cloud to nab their attention.

Unlike when he’d wished to be a fairy before, he had control over his magic. That was slim comfort considering what he’d just done. For a minute, he was stymied. How could his becoming a fairy eliminate Poof? Were all of his wishes undone, too?

Never mind his other wishes--he’d unmade Poof. He felt sick to his stomach.

“Guys!” Timmy cried. “Guys! Poof--”

“We know,” Wanda cut in sharply. They turned toward him, and while Cosmo looked miserable, Wanda was furious and morose. Tootie glanced from Timmy to Cosmo and Wanda and then back. The half-blood girl was baffled.

“Who’s Poof?” Tootie said. Timmy’s heart lurched.

“Guys!” Timmy pleaded.

“When you wished to be our son, Poof vanished because we already had a child,” Wanda said quietly. “You replaced him.”

She looked at Tootie briefly before glowering at Timmy. “She doesn’t remember Poof because she never met him and because wishes can be hit-or-miss whether half-blooded fairies will remember what happened before reality rewrote itself.”

“But I…I didn’t…” Timmy stammered, eyes welling with tears.

“Wishes have consequences, sport,” she said. Her expression softened, and she touched Timmy’s cheek. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“We have to talk about it now!” Timmy cried, appalled she was shelving Poof’s existence. “I wish--”

“We’re not your godparents anymore,” Wanda said. “We don’t grant your wishes when you’re a fairy, too.”

“Besides,” Cosmo added, his first contribution since Timmy had arrived, “we’ll have to petition the Fairy World Court again to bring him back.”

He didn’t meet Timmy’s eyes, and the waves of misery radiating from his godparents made Timmy feel utterly dejected. He hadn’t meant to hurt them. For heaven’s sake, he only wanted them to be his real parents because they loved him so much. It wasn’t like he meant to supplant Poof.

“Please,” Timmy said. “You can’t let this slide or postpone it until later.”

“How do you think we feel, sport?” Wanda said. This time, he heard the hurt in her voice. “We can’t talk about it now. Your wish altered a lot of things, and it’s going to take time to figure out what, exactly, remains the same.”

“You have another son?” Tootie said. Cosmo and Wanda couldn’t meet her gaze, either. Tears slipped down their cheeks, and Timmy felt horrible. He had to unwish this and get Poof back.

“Just the one,” Wanda said softly. She sounded heartbroken. “You have to get to class, sweetie. We’ll be right there. Just give us a couple of minutes.”

Tootie stared at her godparents with confusion and uncertainty. “Are you guys going to be okay? I don’t understand what’s going on. How can a fairy make a wish? I can because I’m only half-fairy, but if he’s your son--”

“Not now,” Wanda said. Her curt tone was undermined by bursting into heartrending sobs. Timmy felt lower and lower with every passing minute. He’d devastated them.

“Go to class, hon,” Wanda choked out. Tootie frowned; Timmy wasn’t sure she would budge. Cosmo, meanwhile, had intertwined his fingers with Wanda’s. When his gaze met Timmy’s, Cosmo dropped his head.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Timmy cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“We know,” Wanda whispered. “But you did.”

Timmy’s lower lip quivered.

“Go,” Wanda bade Tootie in a hoarse voice. His godmother could barely speak for the sobs erupting. Tootie’s eyes filled with tears.

“What happened?” Tootie demanded. “You guys were fine until he showed up.”

She pointed at Timmy accusingly. “What did he do to you? Why does he look so familiar?”

Wanda shook her head and gulped. It seemed that she was speechless. Without a word, Cosmo and Wanda poofed Tootie elsewhere, presumably to class. Once Tootie vanished, his godparents turned toward Timmy. They didn’t, however, look him in the face.

“Why doesn’t Poof exist as my brother?” Timmy said. His voice broke. “Why would Fairy World do this?”

They shook their heads. For a few minutes, all his godparents did was weep. He hesitated to use the “k” word, as in, his wish had effectively killed Poof. But it had. No wonder his godparents were so miserable.

“Logically, it makes sense,” Wanda said when she could speak again. Her voice was hoarse. “Poof didn’t need to exist because you were already our son. Emotionally…”

Her eyes welled with tears again, and Cosmo and Wanda latched onto each other to sob hysterically.

“I’m gonna fix this,” Timmy promised. “I’ll get Poof back.”

They nodded simultaneously; Timmy couldn’t stand to linger any longer. His godparents’ misery was contagious, and he felt guilty for his selfish wish. He raised his wand to return to Fairy World when Cosmo and Wanda grabbed and embraced him.

“You didn’t know this would happen,” Wanda said quietly. “This isn’t your fault. There has to be a way for Poof to exist and for us to be your parents. The two can’t be mutually exclusive.”

”Sure seems like they are,” Timmy said, swallowing past a lump in his throat.

”I know, sweetie,” she whispered, kissing him on the cheek. “You’re not malicious. You gave us Poof because you love us. You shouldn’t be punished for it…and neither should we.”

Timmy nodded. His godparents floated back and then vanished, possibly to Tootie’s side. Timmy wasn’t sure, though.

“Wait! Guys!”

What else had happened when he became their biological son? There had to be other ramifications elsewhere, like with Crocker. Stomach churning, he poofed into his old classroom.

So far, everything looked the same. He’d have to wait for Crocker to show up, and he had a few minutes to kill.

Tootie sat toward the back of the room with Cosmo and Wanda as a notebook and textbook. The fairies glanced at him briefly before looking away. Timmy had disguised himself as a dry eraser; thankfully, he’d transformed before he had to think about what he’d become. He didn’t know what would happen if he appeared as a fairy in front of everyone, but he didn’t need to screw this situation up any more than it already was.

Crocker stepped into the room wearing a suit and tie. His ear wasn’t on his neck, he had no hunchback, and when he saw his class waiting, he beamed at them. Timmy winced. It had taken two Cosmos and a Timmy to screw Crocker up, but without Timmy jumping back in time, Crocker hadn’t suffered Fairy World’s deleterious effects.

It was unsettling to see Crocker sane. Timmy lingered a moment longer before hopping to Fairy World. He shuddered, crossing himself.

Fairy World appeared normal, but Timmy wasn’t taking it at face value. He drifted through the crowds, and it took him a second that “normal” was in the eye of the beholder. Cosmo and Wanda had become depressed after losing Poof. Meanwhile, every fairy in Fairy World shifted to the side or poofed away from him. A few people were giving him the evil eye.

“What the heck did I do?” Timmy snapped. His throat constricted. “I just wanted to be loved by someone who put me ahead of their own interests!”

Timmy’s eyes burned with tears. Tootie had said something similar, especially when Timmy snapped at her and said Wanda was his fairy godmother, not hers. Ironically, now Wanda was Tootie’s godmother without being reassigned.

Before he reached Jorgen’s office, someone spun him around. Big Daddy and Mama Cosmo blocked Timmy’s way, and, for once, the two were on the same page.

“You unmade our grandson!” They snapped. Mama Cosmo glowered, folding her arms across her ample bosom. Big Daddy’s eyes narrowed, and he fingered his wand like a gun. Timmy’s heart lurched.

”I didn’t do it on purpose! You’ve gotta believe me!” Timmy protested. His lower lip quivered. “I didn’t know this would happen!”

He glanced around at the crowd, which had backed away from him. “Why is everyone treating me like I have the plague?”

”Fairy World liked having a baby for the first time in millennia,” Big Daddy snapped. “It meant that the baby ban could be over, for one thing. For another thing, Poof is-was-“

He choked on the past tense and reminded Timmy unpleasantly of Wanda’s earlier distress.

”A force for good,” Big Daddy finished, glaring at Timmy. “What are you?”

”I’m only a kid!” Timmy snapped back. His hands balled into fists. “My dad doesn’t love me because I’m not his kid, my mom is barely around, and Cosmo and Wanda have always been there for me. They don’t deserve to be punished for it.”

”For once, we can agree on something,” Mama Cosma said. She huffed. “More for my Cosmo-lolo’s sake than for that wretched woman.”

Big Daddy shot her a warning look and then glanced back at Timmy. “You’d better fix this, kid.”

”I’m going to,” Timmy said. He released a tense breath and discovered that he was shaking. It wasn’t fair for them to be punished because Timmy hadn’t wanted to be stuck without a loving family. And poor Poof probably hadn’t the faintest idea what had happened before he’d literally poofed.

Tears streaked down Timmy’s cheeks as he poofed into Jorgen’s office. Jorgen glanced away from a giant monitor that encompassed the entire back wall and rounded on Timmy. Timmy gulped and kept his wand ready, though he knew he was no match for Jorgen.

“Once again, you have made a mess of things, tiny Timmy Turner,” Jorgen snapped.

“I didn’t mean to!” Timmy protested. He scowled. “Why can’t you just bring Poof back? And, uh, Foop, too, I guess.”

Foop was more of an afterthought.

”It is not that simple!” Jorgen snapped. “Your wish has rewritten history!”

”Duh, I noticed,” Timmy snapped. “I get why Poof no longer exists, but it’s unfair to Cosmo and Wanda.”

”And did you think it was fair to your mother to erase your existence from her life?” Jorgen asked quietly.

“That’s ridiculous!” Timmy said. “I’m supposed to suffer to make other people happy? What about me? Isn’t the whole point of having fairy godparents to make your life better, not worse? Why can’t Cosmo and Wanda have me and Poof?

“You guys could’ve just, you know, created Poof as my younger brother.”

He was trying to be angrier than he was sad, and the depression was overtaking the fury at a rapid pace.

Jorgen sat at the desk and frowned. “Sometimes, the only choices you have are bad ones, but you still have to choose.”

”What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Timmy snapped, throwing his hands in the air.

“All wishes made by godchildren are erased once they lose their godparents or come of age,” Jorgen said quietly. “Poof was going to be an exception.”

Timmy’s heart was leaden. “So, what, Cosmo and Wanda will lose me and Poof?”

“This was not a gift the Council bestowed upon you. It is the result of a wish. Poof is different because he is a living, breathing fairy you wished for…and didn’t.”

Timmy was growing more and more confused. “Speak English!”

”You wished for them to have a child,” Jorgen said. “Your wish combined their magic to create one. The wish started Poof’s existence, but the Council had ruled in the future to let Poof stay.”

The strange tense also baffled him, and Timmy scowled, shaking his head.

Jorgen glowered. “In short, Turner, you have created a time paradox. A lot of events in the future will not occur due to your meddling.”

Timmy folded his arms across his chest. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

Jorgen frowned, his expression softening somewhat. “Perhaps you should speak with your father-“

”Cosmo? What help would he be?”

“No! Not Cosmo!” Jorgen snapped. “Your biological father. Perhaps, before we grant this wish undone, you can talk to him about his prejudices against you and Dinkleberg.”

Jorgen grimaced. “Ugh. Human drama.”

Timmy scoffed, skeptical. “Do you really think talking to Dad will make any difference?”

“Yes,” Jorgen snapped. “I do. Perhaps now that your father is no longer mired in misery and unwilling to listen to reason, you can impress upon him how he should have reacted to the news.”

”I don’t think I can change his mind…” Timmy said hesitantly. “He already hates me.”

”He does not hate you,” Jorgen said. “He has conflated his rivalry with Dinkleberg with his feelings for you. Now that you can be seen as an impartial observer, perhaps Mr. Turner will be more receptive to you.”

”But what about Poof?” Timmy protested. It felt like they were straying way off-topic.

”Go! Talk to your father!” Jorgen commanded, slamming a gavel down. Timmy opened his mouth to debate the assignment when he discovered himself in an office cafeteria surrounded by adults. It was hard to see his father through the crowd.

He discovered his father in the back of the room. Mr. Turner stared at a well-worn picture from his wallet, and Timmy approached him hesitantly. His heart was in his throat.

”Dad?”

-----------

Mr. Turner looked up. It’d been decades since anyone had called him “Dad.” There was something familiar about the buck-toothed boy dragging his feet toward the table.

The office cafeteria resembled a school cafeteria, including poor food. A large row of windows took up the entire right wall, and the wall facing the west had a door leading to the food, which was arranged buffet style. In the room's far corner, Mr. Turner sat almost hidden by shadows, where the sunlight didn’t pierce.

It was odd to find a child here.

”Shouldn’t you be in school, young man?” Mr. Turner asked, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t know how you even got in here.”

”Uh, it’s take your kid to work day?”

The child sat on the bench opposite Mr. Turner. The resemblance to Julie-Anne was unmistakable; however, she’d often assured him that she’d never had children. It was something that depressed her constantly; the only child she’d ever conceived had been a miscarriage. She was barren.

”Not that I know of,” Mr. Turner said, then shrugged. “Must be one of the other offices. Why aren’t you with your parents, then, son?”

”It’s a long story,” the boy said. “I’m…Timmy.”

He swallowed like he was trying to bite off his last name before it gave him away. Though Mr. Turner raised his eyebrows again, he let it slip. That was fine if the boy didn’t want to give his surname. Besides, Mr. Turner was partial to the name “Timmy” and the boy’s silly pink hat. He couldn’t explain it, but just seeing him was reassuring.

Like he’d been afraid Timmy wouldn’t exist, which made no sense because he didn’t know Timmy from a hole in the wall.

“Hello, Timmy,” Mr. Turner said. “You already call me ‘Dad.’”

Timmy nodded, glancing around him in case someone might be eavesdropping. Mr. Turner didn’t know who would be--he was just a pencil-pusher. No one took much interest in him.

“Let’s hypothetically say you were to have a son,” Timmy said hesitantly. “But it wasn’t yours. It was your wife’s. It’s no one’s fault it’s not yours, but she knew the truth and didn’t tell you for a long time.”

Mr. Turner frowned. “Why would she do that? Doesn’t she trust me?”

It stung to think that his wife would keep a secret for that long unless there was an underlying reason Mr. Turner didn’t know about.

“What if, still hypothetically, it turned out that your son was a Dinkleberg? By accident.”

“Dinkleberg…” Mr. Turner growled, eyes flashing.

“Yeah, yeah, him,” Timmy said, grimacing and rolling his eyes. “What if your son was a Dinkleberg, but you’d been raising him as your own, and Dinkleberg didn’t want him?”

Mr. Turner frowned, sitting back in his chair. “This seems like an oddly specific hypothetical situation.”

“Just answer the question!” Timmy snapped.

“Well…I suppose I’d feel hurt and betrayed that my wife kept the secret from me so long,” Mr. Turner said. “I’d be upset that someone who loved me didn’t feel they could trust me with the truth.”

Timmy folded his arms across his chest. “You wouldn’t completely flip out on the kid, tell him you didn’t want him anymore, and then ditch him and his mom?”

Timmy sounded skeptical.

“I don’t want a son who’s a Dinkleberg,” Mr. Turner growled.

Hurt flashed in Timmy’s eyes; the “hypothetical” situation hit Timmy too close to home. Mr. Turner swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Don’t I know you?” Mr. Turner asked.

“No,” Timmy said flatly, pain etched in his features. “You don’t.”

“Are you sure? You look so familiar,” Mr. Turner protested.

“Positive,” Timmy said. He looked down at the metal table for a few seconds before looking back up. “But you wouldn’t stop loving him, would you? He can’t help who his father is. And it’s not his mom’s fault that she got pregnant from the wrong guy.”

Timmy seemed to be searching for support among inanimate objects, which was confusing, but Mr. Turner decided it was for the best that he didn’t ask. Pink and green salt and pepper shakers suddenly appeared beyond the tissue dispenser. Maybe they’d been there all along, and Mr. Turner hadn’t seen them.

Timmy looked up at him with tears in his eyes.

“If you really love someone, you’d make it work, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t hold the kid or his mom responsible for something they couldn’t control.”

Mr. Turner felt like Timmy had an ulterior motive for asking these questions. He frowned. “Are you sure we don’t know each other?”

Timmy smiled bleakly. “Not right now, we don’t.”

He straightened in his seat, and although the kid couldn’t be more than eleven, Mr. Turner had an odd image of Timmy sitting at the bar and nursing a beer. He seemed that level of jaded and beaten down. No child should look that defeated.

“Did your father throw you out?” Mr. Turner asked, concerned, though he wasn’t sure why. He’d never mentored or babysat for children before; there was no logical reason for him to care about this kid. Yet Mr. Turner felt a strong paternal urge toward him.

Timmy shook his head. “He kinda threw himself out. He walked out on me and Mom.”

Timmy sniffled, and Mr. Turner got up and moved to his side of the table to wrap an arm around the kid’s shoulders. Timmy buried his face in Mr. Turner’s dress shirt and got it wet and dirty, but Mr. Turner didn’t complain. It seemed like the kid needed a hug.

“I’m sure, once he has his head screwed on straight, he’ll reconsider,” Mr. Turner said, holding Timmy at arm’s length. “You seem like a good kid.”

“Not if I’m a Dinkleberg,” Timmy said, staring at the floor. “That makes me ‘demon spawn.’”

The green and pink shakers weren’t where they’d been earlier. Instead, they’d moved closer to Timmy as if giving him their comfort. Mr. Turner shook his head. Shakers didn’t have agency and wouldn’t feel sympathetic toward children. Maybe he’d been working too many long hours lately.

Mr. Turner mulled this over. “Sheldon Dinkleberg hates kids. I can’t imagine him having any of his own.”

“Neither can he, apparently,” Timmy grumbled.

“And Dinkleberg’s my sworn enemy,” Mr. Turner continued. “I could never share a kid with him, even if it was with the love of my life. Good thing Julie-Ann never had kids.”

It was Mr. Turner’s time to stare at the table. “She doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Re-returning to the hypothetical,” Timmy stammered. “So, even if it was a total mistake, Mom didn’t mean it, and you know your kid isn’t responsible, you’d still reject him.”

Mr. Turner sat back with his arms folded across his chest. “This is a strangely specific ‘hypothetical situation.’”

Timmy shook his head, and tears flew off his cheeks. “Never mind. I can’t win, no matter which universe I’m in.”

Pushing away from the table, he prepared to dart from the cafeteria. Mr. Turner grabbed his wrist.

“Hey, it can’t be as bad as that,” Mr. Turner cajoled. “I’m sure your dad’s a great guy. He’d never walk out on you and your mom.”

Timmy’s smile pierced Mr. Turner’s heart. It complemented the “guy at the end of the bar self-medicating” vision he’d had earlier. Timmy pulled his wrist out of his grip and muttered, “I wish I’d never come here.”

Timmy ran for the exit, and Mr. Turner weighed whether he ought to pursue him. After all, Timmy was a stranger. He wasn’t his responsibility. If anything, Mr. Turner should be reporting him for trespassing on private property. He wasn’t buying the “bring a kid to work” day excuse Timmy had touted earlier.

“Wait!” Mr. Turner called, and Timmy lowered something that looked strangely like a wand. Confused, Mr. Turner decided to ignore that, too. He had too many questions to let that particular issue trouble him now.

They stood in the hallway outside the cafeteria, and Mr. Turner brought Timmy to a quieter area near where there used to be a payphone in a corner.

“Now, son, I feel like your story is missing some information,” Mr. Turner said. Timmy’s shoulders heaved, and he didn’t look at him.

“You can trust me,” Mr. Turner added.

“I thought I could…” Timmy mumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mr. Turner demanded.

Timmy shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re crying, so it must be a big deal,” Mr. Turner countered. He knelt at Timmy’s side, and it was weird, but he could almost detect something magical about the child. However, Mr. Turner didn’t believe in magic (or demons, for that matter.)

Timmy didn’t respond.

“You can talk to me,” Mr. Turner said softly. “What’s wrong, son?”

Timmy burst into tears anew, and Mr. Turner was alarmed. He had no idea what he’d said to set the kid off.

Timmy’s lips twisted into a sour smile. “You’ll only acknowledge me as your son if I don’t exist as your real son. Meanwhile, my godparents lost their son because of that.”

“I’m not following,” Mr. Turner said. Timmy rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t conceal his misery. He hugged Mr. Turner fiercely, stepped back, and then a large pink cloud enveloped him.

“Figures. The only way I can get a parent’s love is by taking it away from someone else.”

Mr. Turner blinked, taken aback. He wanted to ask what Timmy meant, but when the cloud cleared, Timmy was gone.

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

“I told you that it wouldn’t work,” Timmy snapped, folding his arms across his chest and looking and feeling like a recalcitrant child. He thrust his lower lip out, too.

“Do not be so certain,” Jorgen warned, and Timmy scoffed.

“He said it--he wouldn’t accept a kid from Dinkleberg.”

“That is not precisely what he said,” Jorgen said. Timmy huffed, slouching in his chair.

“Don’t make me go back. I’m not doing it.”

Timmy wasn’t putting his heart on the line to be crushed again. There had to be another way to restore Poof without facing his father again. Cosmo and Wanda had accompanied him to his father’s workplace but hadn’t joined him in Fairy World. That also figured--Tootie probably needed them more than he did.

But…Cosmo, Wanda, and Juandissimo weren’t the only godparents in Dimmsdale.

“What happened to Magdalene and Nathaniel?” Timmy said. “They could’ve been Tootie’s godparents and left Cosmo and Wanda alone.”

“Without you, there is no fairy shortage in Dimmsdale,” Jorgen intoned. “Therefore, they are not necessary.”

“So, what? They’re just kicking back in Fairy World?” Timmy said. Jorgen’s expression was pained, and he turned from Timmy to examine the wall behind him. Timmy knew that was an excuse and growled. He’d had enough crap today.

“Nathaniel is a prominent doctor at Fairy World Hospital,” Jorgen said.

“And Magdalene…?” Timmy pressed. “Oh, c’mon. Let me guess--her life is miles better without me around, even though that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Without your presence, there was no fairy shortage,” Jorgen said. Timmy rolled his eyes.

“I know. You said that already.”

“You did not let me finish!” Jorgen snapped, rounding on Timmy. “There was no need to locate Magdalene, who has been missing for six hundred years because we did not need an experienced fairy godparent in Dimmsdale.”

Timmy wasn’t following. This was the second time Jorgen hadn’t spelled out the consequences in plain English, and Timmy was aggravated enough without adding mysticism to the mix. He was starting to know how Cosmo felt constantly, as if he was being kept in the dark.

“So?” Timmy snapped.

“We only located Magdalene because there were three children and two pairs of fairies,” Jorgen said. “Without you, there were only two. Nathaniel, after his transformation, has never left Fairy World. He has never been a godparent.”

To forestall Timmy’s griping, Jorgen continued and glared warningly at Timmy not to interrupt again.

“Poof’s life was not the only one you may have erased.”

Timmy scoffed. “You’re telling me that I’m responsible for Magdalene’s disappearance? That was the Council’s fault hundreds of years before I was born.”

Jorgen sighed, massaging his temples. He raised his wand and produced a chart on the wall, which previously had real-time feeds from Earth. Timmy’s curiosity piqued despite himself, and he leaned forward over the desk.

“We did not have a fairy shortage, so we did not look for any missing fairies, no matter how long ago they’d fallen off Fairy World’s radar,” Jorgen said. “Any attempts were half-hearted when so many other things occupy our time.

“Nathaniel led a search to locate her.”

The words fell ominously into the room. Timmy shivered, feeling like he had to brush off bad luck. “And he found her, right?”

“Not before Doombringer did.”

Timmy choked. Jorgen watched with narrowed eyes but did not offer Timmy a glass of water. Timmy huffed, figuring it was up to him to conjure it then.

His hand shook when he drank.

“She’s all right, isn’t she?” Timmy said once he could speak again.

“You know what Doombringer does to fairies,” Jorgen chided. “She’s a fairy hunter--she doesn’t bring them back alive.”

Timmy’s stomach churned.

“Let us recap, shall we?” Jorgen said, not waiting for Timmy’s response. “Cosmo and Wanda do not have Poof because you wished him away. Your mother suffered a miscarriage and cannot have any more children. And Magdalene--”

“I’m not taking responsibility for Magdalene,” Timmy snapped. “She was hiding from you guys. That was all on you. You let her vanish and then acted all shocked when something happened to her. Aren’t you the ones who are supposed to keep tabs on everyone?”

It was easier to be outraged than to face the truth that he’d accidentally killed two people (three, if you count Foop, which he didn’t.)

“Cosmo and Wanda are Tootie’s godparents because Vicky has no one to vent herself upon,” Jorgen continued, ignoring Timmy’s comment. “Every day, Tootie is in extreme danger of revealing herself and her secret. If this trend continues, we will have no choice but to exile her from Earth to live out her days in Fairy World.”

“Great,” Timmy grumbled. “I’m useful as a distraction and punching bag. You’re really helping me feel better about this. It’s like that stupid wish all over again.”

Timmy didn’t elaborate. Jorgen knew which wish he was referring to.

“You are missing the point, puny Timmy Turner,” Jorgen snapped. “Cosmo and Wanda’s lives are also in danger being around Vicky so much. Vicky has been surrounded by fairy magic her entire life, compounded by Tootie coming into her powers at age ten and then adding Cosmo and Wanda to the equation.”

Timmy glared. Wanda had lectured him earlier about dangerous wishes that would draw people’s attention. She’d said Vicky was suspicious of his showy wishes. Somehow, he felt “suspicious” would’ve been an improvement in Tootie’s case.

“Vicky has been working with Doombringer,” Jorgen said. “That was how they captured Magdalene since she kept tabs on Tootie. Nathaniel found…what was left.”

Timmy swallowed the bile that burned his throat.

“It was too dangerous for Poof to exist in this world,” Jorgen said. “Fairies aren’t the only supernatural creatures Doombringer has hunted and killed. She’s been trying to get her hands on children for a while. Human children no one will miss, but more importantly, supernatural children she can steal magic from and torture before killing.”

Timmy’s stomach churned loudly enough for Jorgen to hear. The giant fairy raised his eyebrows.

“It is more than just your liveliness on the line, puny child,” Jorgen snapped. “It also more than ‘because you exist, you have eliminated their need for Poof.’ If that were the case, then everyone would have forgotten about Poof.

“You wished to break the baby ban. It did not exist in this universe,” Jorgen continued. “We were able to keep Cosmo contained better.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Timmy said, knowing in his heart it wasn’t. Jorgen was probably about to lay more bad news upon him. Timmy conjured a hard hat to shield himself, feeling like it was the type of humor Cosmo would’ve appreciated.

“Yes and no,” Jorgen said. Timmy growled.

“Just talk straight!” he ordered.

“Fairies have been able to have children, but most have not survived to adulthood,” Jorgen said. “Thanks to unscrupulous fairy hunters like Doombringer and Crocker--”

“Crocker’s not a fairy hunter,” Timmy scoffed. “He seemed perfectly sane, which is weird but makes sense, I guess, if it took two of Cosmo and one of me to screw up his life.”

“Crocker, in your universe, knows he is insane,” Jorgen said. “He did not develop a personality disorder as a result.”

“I’m not following,” Timmy said. “How is this my fault?”

“Crocker was meant to lose his godparents!” Jorgen snapped. “When he did not, he found that he liked the power that Cosmo and Wanda granted him. His mother was never home, and his father abandoned him as a young child after taking his sister with him. Emotional neglect and abandonment, combined with bitterness and ego, can create anti-social personalities.”

Timmy’s look of incomprehension made Jorgen sigh, but he explained.

“Doombringer is not the only competent fairy hunter in Dimmsdale,” Jorgen said. “Crocker does not remember how he lost access to such power, but he craves it. He also enjoys torturing innocent fairies, ripping off their wings, and mounting their crowns.”

Timmy’s head spun, and he could feel his heart pounding.

“To put it more plainly, Crocker is a sociopath now,” Jorgen said. “Competence plus mental disorders plus intelligence equals an extremely dangerous human.”

“But you’re having fairy babies,” Timmy said desperately, feeling like he was grasping at straws. “Shouldn’t that balance it out? Or at least keep other fairies safe while they’re taking care of their kids?”

“Fairy children cannot leave Fairy World anymore,” Jorgen said. “If a fairy couple chooses to have children, they are trapped here until the children come of age. Otherwise, it is not uncommon for both parents and child to perish as the result of competent fairy hunters.”

Timmy’s throat tightened painfully. “So, basically, to save Fairy World, Poof, Magdalene, and many other nameless fairies, I have to be Cosmo and Wanda’s godchild, not their biological child. That still doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“Perhaps something can be worked out later,” Jorgen said quietly, so quietly that Timmy wasn’t sure he heard him.

“Huh?” Timmy said. Jorgen growled, glaring.

“That was nothing,” Jorgen snapped. “You must undo the wish, child.”

“But you just said--”

“Undo the wish,” Jorgen retorted, brooking no argument. Timmy stared at the floor.

“Your father is not beyond redemption,” Jorgen said, and Timmy looked up at him. “Perhaps you should give him more credit once he has seen how his life is without you.”

“But he won’t remember anything about this wish!” Timmy protested.

“Not consciously,” Jorgen reminded him. “But subconsciously, it may be another story.”

“Argh, fine,” Timmy snapped. “I wish everything were back to normal, that Crocker was incompetent and not a sociopath, that Magdalene was still alive, and more importantly, that Poof still existed and was their son!”

Jorgen nodded, and Timmy tried to remain optimistic. He’d like to believe Jorgen hadn’t put him through the wringer again to be an asshole. He’d like to think it, if he had any confidence in Fairy World’s Da Rules’ enforcer. But Timmy didn’t.

He hoped his current timeline was better than the alternate future he’d accidentally created.

It was too bad hope was in short supply and high demand.

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

Cosmo and Wanda felt awful knowing how badly awry Timmy’s wish had gone. They wanted to make it up to him, especially since Jorgen seemed to think there was leeway they could exploit. Magdalene and Nathaniel couldn’t make Timmy’s father “love him again” because he’d never stopped. That wasn’t the issue.

Despite how odious Wanda found Timmy’s parents, especially his father, right now, she and Cosmo went disguised to the hotel where Mr. Turner was lodging. She was jittery; they had Poof back, and everything seemed to have returned to normal, whatever passed for “normal” around here. However, Timmy shouldn’t have to suffer for it. Short of bewitching Mr. Turner, they would figure out how to rectify this.

Jorgen had relented somewhat. Since she and Cosmo had reconciled, Jorgen had reassigned Magdalene and Nathaniel to Tootie. To ease the sting of losing Wanda, Jorgen decided that Wanda could still visit Tootie whenever she wanted to show her magic. Moreover, Timmy and Tootie couldn’t forbid the other from being visited. They had to share.

If only it was that easy to help Timmy out with his father.

Wanda wore a black cocktail dress with a slit in the side to reveal her long legs. At her neck was a pearl necklace, and matching pearl earrings dangled from her ears. Her black pumps glistened under the bright lights.

Cosmo, meanwhile, wore a suit and a tie. They would've been overdressed if Mr. Turner had been drinking at a regular bar. As it was, he was hobnobbing with enough rich people that Cosmo and Wanda, despite their strange hair colors, ought to fit in.

They found places on the stools on either side of Mr. Turner. Cosmo, unfortunately, was quickly distracted by the stool's ability to spin. Wanda groaned, facepalming. Fingers crossed he’d stop before he hurt himself and went sliding across the room.

“Hey, that looks like fun!” Mr. Turner said and twisted on his barstool. Wanda grabbed him by the shoulder; she could smell the alcohol on his breath. Cosmo, for all his silliness and stupidity, was stone-cold sober. Worse comes to worst he could banish the drunkenness with magic. Mr. Turner didn’t have that option, and she didn’t need him projectile vomiting.

They’d told Timmy they were out checking on Poof. They had done that, briefly, to reassure themselves that he was alive and well. Timmy wasn’t summoning them back in a hurry, which worried Wanda. He’d barely spoken to them after discovering that Poof was alive again and the universe was “normal” again. Wanda knew he was crushed by the aftereffects of his wish and by feeling like he’d accomplished nothing.

This would help.

Da Rules said you couldn’t kill a godchild’s parents, but oh, was Wanda sorely tempted. You didn’t grow up a mafia don’s daughter without acquiring a dark streak.

“I think we should talk, hon,” Wanda said. Mr. Turner’s eyes went in and out of focus, and she resisted the temptation to facepalm again.

“About what?” Mr. Turner said and then stared. “Hey. You’re pretty.”

“Hands off, pal! That’s my wife!” Cosmo said. His defense would’ve had more traction if he hadn’t slid off the stool and crashed into a nearby booth. Wanda buried her face in her hands.

“I meant to do that!” Cosmo said brightly, swaying as he returned to the barstool. Wanda uncovered her face and shook her head at her husband.

“Keep focused, you oaf,” she muttered.

“Focused on what?” Cosmo said, spinning around again. Since Cosmo was on Mr. Turner’s other side, she couldn’t reach him.

“Timmy,” Wanda growled.

Mr. Turner scowled. “You have a ‘Timmy,’ too?”

“He’s our son,” Cosmo and Wanda said together. Cosmo burst into sobs.

“He loves us…so much…” Cosmo wept into the bar.

“Maybe I should cut you off, pal,” the bartender said, wiping down the counter around Cosmo’s head.

“He’s not drunk,” Wanda said, and the bartender raised his eyebrows. “He’s just an idiot.”

“Whatever you say, lady,” the bartender said, hastening off to make someone else’s drink. Music in the background blared, and Wanda ignored it. It seemed de rigeur for bars to play obnoxiously loud “music.”

“Look,” Wanda said in a gentler tone. “I don’t know about your son, Timmy, but ours is a good kid. He’s impulsive, he has ADHD, and he can be selfish sometimes, but he’ll turn out all right as long as he has someone he knows loves him unconditionally.

“Especially someone who doesn’t blame him for things that aren’t his fault,” she said pointedly.

“Who would do that?” Mr. Turner scoffed, downing a shot of whiskey.

“Oh, I don’t know, you…” Cosmo muttered. Wanda elbowed him in the gut.

“All I’m saying is that if you know your son is a good kid, it’s not fair to mistreat him based on things he can’t control,” Wanda said sagely. “As a parent, you’re supposed to love him unconditionally. You can’t say, ‘Oh, well, he’s not my problem now,’ and wash your hands of him.”

“Who are you to give me--hic!” Mr. Turner couldn’t finish the sentence. He swayed on his stool, and Cosmo and Wanda caught him before he fell backward and hit his head on the tiles.

“Concerned parents,” Wanda said. Tears shone in her eyes. “Trust me. You’ll regret it if he disappears from your life someday.”

Mr. Turner scowled, back to nursing his drink. Wanda hoped the seed had been planted. Any more blatant, and they risked Jorgen’s ire. Heaven knew how little Jorgen regarded them now. They didn’t make things worse.

“I’ll think about it,” Mr. Turner grumbled, then turned his back on them. He ignored Cosmo’s attempts to coax him into conversation and sat brooding instead. Wanda sighed, reluctantly leaving and hauling Cosmo off before he tried spinning around again.

“Do you think that’s enough?” Cosmo whispered.

“I don’t know,” Wanda said. “I’m hoping, between how Timmy handled things earlier and our little conversation, we might’ve been able to convince Mr. Turner to change his mind.”

“What if we didn’t?” Cosmo fretted.

“We will,” Wanda said determinedly. “Or else.”

“What’s ‘or else?’” Cosmo pressed, and when she didn’t respond, he whined. “Wanda…”

“I have one more trick up my sleeve,” she said. She wasn’t supposed to give humans nightmares but was at the end of her rope. Mr. Turner had put Timmy through hell; it was time he understood what he’d done.

“Let's just hope I don’t need it.”

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

Cosmo and Wanda had been gone an awful long time. Timmy was too depressed to summon them. Obviously, they were doing more than visiting Poof. He couldn’t bring himself to care either way. He felt so empty inside.

Lying flat on his back, he stared up at the ceiling. It was just as dull as the last ten times he’d stared at it, but he couldn’t muster up the energy to turn the TV on or grab his phone. He was too depressed to move.

The doorbell rang, and Timmy twitched but remained on the bed. It was probably Vicky here to torment him again. He shuddered, remembering what Jorgen had said about Doombringer and Vicky working together. He reflexively looked for Cosmo and Wanda before remembering that they were elsewhere.

“Timmy!” Wanda called into thin air, and he glanced around wildly for his godmother. “We have someone here who owes you an apology.”

“And a lot more than that,” Cosmo grumbled, receiving a jab in the ribs.

Cautiously optimistic, Timmy rose from the bed, hurtled down the stairs, and dashed into the living room. Cosmo and Wanda, in human forms, were supporting his father, who looked like he didn’t have a leg to stand on. He swayed; only his fairies kept his father from keeling over.

“Now, isn’t there something you’d like to say to your son?” Wanda said sharply.

“How did you know where I lived?” Mr. Turner asked.

“Uh…lucky guess,” Cosmo and Wanda chorused.

“Guys, it’s okay,” Timmy mumbled. “He doesn’t have to say it if he doesn’t want to. I know he wants nothing to do with me or Mom.”

“It’s weird,” Mr. Turner said. Wanda huffed, squeezed her wand behind her back, and Mr. Turner stopped swaying like a balloon. The rank odor of alcohol likewise vanished, for which Timmy was grateful.

“What’s weird?” Timmy said, dreading what his father might say next.

“I’ve been drinking and drinking. And drinking some more. And it made me think.”

“Wow, alcohol made you think? It’s never done that to me!” Cosmo said.

“That’s because nothing makes you think,” Wanda muttered.

“I have this weird half-dream of losing you and only having a miscarriage with your mom,” Mr. Turner said. “And it made me realize that there are worse things in the world than having a child…that…”

He had problems choking the words out, and Timmy rolled his eyes.

“I get it, Dad. I get it,” Timmy said. “You don’t want me.”

“That’s not it!” Mr. Turner protested. “What I mean to say is, son...maybe I have to get used to the idea. Right now, for some odd reason, I’m just glad you exist.”

Timmy shot his godparents a look. They smiled innocently.

“I’m still not happy about who your father is,” Mr. Turner added. “And it’s going to take a lot of getting used to. But, hey, at least you don’t take after him. You look like your mom.”

“Thanks?” Timmy said, shrugging. He wasn’t sure he should take that as a compliment. Something caught his attention, and he saw his mother exiting the kitchen. She watched Mr. Turner warily, and Timmy didn’t blame her. Mr. Turner had been volatile and quick to explode for the last few months. It was best to step carefully around him.

“I’m not saying that things are going to change,” Mr. Turner warned. “Not for a while. It’s still hard to be in this house without thinking about what really happened.”

Mrs. Turner huffed, taking umbrage. Mr. Turner ignored her.

“But we’ll see,” Mr. Turner added. Timmy’s heart clenched. The promise felt flimsy at best, and he wasn’t sure if he could question it without it falling apart.

“That’s it? That’s the best you can do?” Timmy squeaked.

“It’s weird,” Mr. Turner said. “Every time I think otherwise, these two show up.”

Timmy bit back a laugh. Maybe Cosmo and Wanda were trying to compensate for the wish going so badly off the rails. Or perhaps they just loved him and wanted to see him happy.

“They seem to take this whole thing very personally, which is strange because I’ve never met them before.”

Mr. Turner shrugged. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…I’ll be around. I’m not moving out of Dimmsdale right away.”

“That’s it? That’s the best you can offer?” Mrs. Turner snapped, taking up Timmy’s refrain. “You verbally abused our son for months, and now your promise is that you won't immediately move away? That’s not good enough!”

Mr. Turner sighed, sounding like Atlas with the world's weight on his back. “We’ll see.”

Cosmo and Wanda glared. Maybe this was the best they could do for now. He was grateful, albeit irritated. They offered him sympathetic smiles since they weren’t supposed to be familiar with him.

“Okay, okay,” Mr. Turner said when Cosmo and Wanda glared at him. “I’ll think about it. Look, that’s the best you’ll get right now.”

Mrs. Turner sighed, her shoulders slumping. “You might as well have dinner. I don’t know where the day went.”

She headed back into the kitchen with a dishrag over her shoulder.

Timmy’s heart was in his throat. He gestured toward his mom and said to his father, “After you.”

“Hey, crazy people with pink and green hair--wanna stay?” Mr. Turner asked. He frowned. “I still feel like I know you somehow.”

“Nope!” Cosmo and Wanda said. “Never met you before.”

Mr. Turner walked ahead of Timmy, and Cosmo and Wanda stopped Timmy when the adults couldn’t see them. The fairies hugged Timmy tightly.

“We’re going to do what we can to help,” Wanda promised. Her eyes flashed daggers at Timmy’s father. “Children are a precious gift. It’s time he appreciated you for who you are, not for who he wants you to be.”

“I love you guys,” Timmy murmured.

“We love you, too,” they chorused. Wanda squeezed him extra tight, and Timmy blinked, taken aback.

“What was that for?”

“You could’ve stayed with that alternate dimension,” Wanda said. “You didn’t have to unwish it. We appreciate it. I know it wasn’t just Poof who suffered, but…thank you for thinking of us, too.”

“Still wish things were different,” Timmy grumbled as he walked toward the kitchen.

Cosmo and Wanda exchanged sly smiles.

“Maybe we can see about that someday,” Wanda said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Jorgen said something like that, too,” Timmy said, confused. Wanda smiled rightly.

“Just wait and see, hon,” she promised. “Things aren’t as far gone as you think they are. There’s always hope.”

“And when there isn’t, there’s magic!” Cosmo added brightly, receiving another elbow to the ribs. Wanda sighed, facepalming. Timmy smiled weakly. At least he could count on them when he needed them.

Hopefully, Tootie was doing okay with Magdalene and Nathaniel.

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

Magdalene had the strangest feeling she’d stopped existing for a while. Greatly disturbed but trying to put it aside, she tried to mollify Tootie, who was still upset about losing Wanda to Timmy. It wasn’t a permanent loss, as Magdalene and Nathaniel reminded her. They’d see each other again.

Tootie had her face buried in the pillows; she was too disappointed to lift her head and look at her new fairies.

“I know this situation isn’t…ideal…” Nathaniel said, sitting beside Tootie on the bed. “But there are worse scenarios.”

“Like what?” Tootie grumbled.

“Apparently, I’m dead, Poof stopped existing, and Vicky became a fairy hunter who likes torturing supernatural children,” Magdalene said, shrugging. Tootie lifted her head and looked at Magdalene in horror.

“Just saying,” Magdalene said, shrugging again.

“I shouldn’t ask, should I?” Tootie said, and Magdalene and Nathaniel shook their heads.

“Just remember--never ask if it can be worse. Because it always can be,” Magdalene reassured her. Tootie groaned, back to burying her face in her pillow.

“But we’re going to try to fix that,” Magdalene promised. She rubbed Tootie’s back. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday. You’ve gotta trust us a little first.”

“Maybe,” Tootie said, rolling over onto her back. She straightened up. “Is Timmy okay?”

Magdalene and Nathaniel consulted their wands and nodded.

“So far, so good,” Magdalene said. “Fingers crossed the detente holds, and Mr. Turner gets his head out of his ass.”

“Mags!” Nathaniel scolded, and Magdalene snorted.

“Oh, please. Vicky’s her sister. She’s heard way worse, especially from that guy Vicky used to torture.”

“I don’t want to know…” Nathaniel said, shuddering.

“Think about it this way--Fairy World screwed us all over, so now they owe us big time,” Magdalene said, grinning evilly. “Why don’t we show them just how much?”

Tootie smiled. “I like that idea.”

“I thought you might,” Magdalene said. She rubbed her palms together. “Let’s get wishing.”