(no subject)

[soulfulsin]

Fandom: Fairly Oddparents
Canon or AU: AU (times infinity)

Fic: Speak No Evil
A/N:

“I’m addicted to the madness…this hotel is my Atlantis…”

I'm writing this while having “Addict” from Hazbin Hotel stuck in my head. Anyway, I’m slightly inebriated (if that’s the right word) at the moment, so I’ll omit any lengthy notes.

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Wanda was distantly aware that she was clawing the daylights out of her skin. That didn’t deter her; it was an out-of-body experience. She knew what she was doing, but she couldn’t cease. All that mattered was removing Asmodeus’s taint. If she had to rip her skin off, then she would.

She heard disconnected voices and ignored them. However, when she went to maul herself, she couldn’t move; she was paralyzed. Terror flooded her senses, and she gasped. Asmodeus was preventing her from hurting herself so he could inflict more damage later. The only reason he’d stopped her was because he wanted her to himself.

“I thought that was supposed to work!” a surly male child snapped. She knew that voice. Trembling, she debated whether she wanted to return to the here and now or remain outside of herself. Her chest constricted, and it was hard to breathe. It felt like someone had wrapped a corset too tightly.

“Wanda…” Cosmo whimpered. His fingers brushed against her cheek. “Wanda, baby, come back.”

She felt so weak and pathetic. Asmodeus and Ozymandias were out there. They must’ve conjured the dark cloud over her earlier. If not them, then one of their minions. Wanda sagged against the back of something. She wasn’t sure whether it was a padded wall or a hospital bed. It didn’t matter.

“You can’t possibly want to stay there,” Timmy scoffed.

It wasn’t a matter of wanting she yearned to tell him. There was no escape. Closing her eyes, she strained against the straitjacket. Her heart hammered between her ribs.

The present felt distant and unreachable. Instead, she felt her attackers looming over her and then thrusting into her as hard and fast as they could. Tears slipped down her cheeks; they loved to mock her inability to speak. They acted like she’d given her consent because she literally couldn’t say “no.”

They also loved to pass her around like she was an amusing toy sold to the highest bidder. Wanda couldn’t reach her wand or move, and Cosmo and Timmy had left her on Earth for shits and giggles. Asmodeus was right. Cosmo didn’t love her. He never would’ve let this happen if he loved her.

“Wanda! Why aren’t you responding to me mentally?” Cosmo whined.

“She’s blocked you out,” Irina said, sighing. “I’m not sure how aware she is of her surroundings.”

Sobs shook her, and Wanda left reality entirely. Instead, she returned to the hotel. The blood beneath her was wet and warm. She felt weak from repeated violations, and her chest burned where Ozymandias had carved a crown above her breasts. Asmodeus straddled her and watched her like a cat watches a trapped mouse.

“What’s the matter, Seelie slut?” Asmodeus taunted. “I thought you liked being roughed up.”

Saliva accumulated in her mouth, but she couldn’t spit it in his face. Asmodeus wouldn’t tolerate such blatant disrespect, even when it was only the three of them.

The three of them. That used to mean her, Cosmo, and Timmy. Tears slid down her cheeks. She missed her family so badly that it felt like a gut wound.

“Don’t tell me you miss that idiot,” Asmodeus scoffed. “He doesn’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated. You don’t deserve respect, bitch.”

Wanda wanted to speak; her throat ached with the words she couldn’t say. She strained toward her wand, which Ozy held just out of reach. Asmodeus snorted, watching her futile efforts to regain it. He laughed when Ozy considered the wand, turned it around, and then shoved the handle inside of her. Wanda screamed soundlessly, shaking in pain and misery.

“Oh, look at all that blood,” Asmodeus said dispassionately when Ozy drew the wand out. “I thought she would’ve clotted by now.”

“She probably did before I ripped the wound open,” Ozy said and shrugged. “Should I care?”

Asmodeus looked contemplative. Wanda was writhing; her insides were torn up, and the pain made her head spin. She wanted to crawl into a corner and die, but that wasn’t an option. Dimly, she sensed Cosmo, which made no sense. She hadn’t detected him before. Why start now?

“Wanda…”

It sounded like Cosmo. It was faint, like a badly tuned radio.

“Wanda, please. You’ve gotta come back.”

Ozy and Asmodeus were discussing whether they ought to heal her now or let her suffer. Wanda couldn’t stop crying; Asmodeus seldom let her pass out from blood loss. It was a “luxury,” one he’d only allowed if he was done with her for the day.

“Wanda, it’s us. Your loveable idiots, Cosmo and Timmy!”

Her mind was playing tricks on her again. It was probably inevitable that she’d succumb to psychosis. Perhaps her mind wanted to comfort her before she broke entirely.

She was approaching the point of no return.

“Wanda, you’re in Fairy World with Cosmo and Timmy. You’re not on Earth anymore. Asmodeus and Ozymandias can’t touch you again. Come back to us. We love you.”

“My wife. Not yours!”

“Cosmo?” Wanda said. The petty jealousy was so in character for him that it was shifting her mindset.

“You can hear us?” Timmy said.

“Open your eyes, baby,” Cosmo pleaded. She struggled, wanting to obey him, but she was afraid it was another trick. She could see the wand dripping with her blood, and she shuddered.

“You’re safe,” Irina added. “We’re not going to let anything happen. I promise.”

Wanda laughed bitterly. “You can’t promise anything like that. I’m not safe. I’m…I’m trapped again…”

She whined like a whipped cur, and Asmodeus and Ozy were about to take advantage of her terror and helplessness. They exchanged wicked grins, flung her against the headboard, and bound her to the bed. Then they walked out, tossing her wand onto the bed and out of reach. Wanda struggled madly but only succeeded in making her head spin worse.

“Cosmo…” she whispered. “Timmy…”

“We’re here,” Timmy said. “Argh, can’t I just--”

“Don’t touch her,” Irina warned. “She may interpret it as an attack.”

“I wouldn’t hurt her!” Cosmo sobbed. She forced her eyes open but steeled herself for a bad scene. It was like viewing the world through a filter. She saw Cosmo superimposed on the hotel bed. Sobbing, hoping he was real and the bed was fake, she threw herself at him. It was hard to aim when she was between worlds, but Cosmo caught her nonetheless.

“You’re okay,” Cosmo murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered. Cosmo felt more solid and real than the hotel, which she hoped was a good sign.

“You’re here, it’s over, and we’re here for you,” Irina said.

Timmy scoffed. “Cosmo and I are, anyway.”

“Timmy…” she whispered and strained toward him. Her arms were bound. Reality was trickling in faster, along with outrage. She had almost brought herself back, but not quite.

“Don’t tell me that bitch Vesta did this to me,” Wanda snapped.

“Actually, it was not her,” a familiar voice said, and Wanda jumped. Her vision cleared entirely, and Jorgen looked chagrined to be called out.

“You were clawing at your arm and your face,” Jorgen said. “Cosmo was panicking, although, for once, I could not disagree with the puny green fairy.”

“Are you back now?” Cosmo asked as she rolled in his arms. Their eyes met, and she brushed her lips against his. Most of her had returned, but a small part remained trapped in the hotel. Cosmo kissed her back passionately, taking her breath away, and she melted against him.

“I sure hope so, hon,” she murmured. Cosmo held her tightly, and she sighed. He might not be much, but he was hers. She loved him deeply, regardless of Fairy World forcing their separation for nearly seven months. Plus, inhaling his familiar scent and feeling him against her calmed her down.

“The flashbacks are getting worse,” Timmy complained. “And more frequent, too.”

“I know,” Jorgen said, bowing his head. “Unfortunately, we do not have time to remedy that with Asmodeus’s goons on the loose. We are attempting to root them out, but they are thoroughly entrenched.”

Wanda sighed. “I’m not surprised. It’s one of their favorite things--hanging around when they’re not wanted.”

It felt like a five-hundred-pound weight was on her chest. Cosmo tried to catch her eye, but she looked away. Timmy stepped into her line of sight; he looked irritated and concerned. The irritation, she supposed, was because he couldn’t help. Cosmo mirrored Timmy’s concern when she glanced at him.

“You’re not completely back,” Cosmo whined.

“I’m as good as I’m going to get right now, hon,” she said brusquely. “Was there something the Council needed us for?”

Jorgen was appraising her in a way that sent chills down her spine like he was assessing her usefulness. She caught herself before reaching for her missing wand; being unarmed again drained her. It also brought the hotel closer so that she was 80% in Fairy World and 20% trapped on Earth. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she fought to calm down.

“Other than using me as bait, I don’t see how I can help,” she complained. “I don’t remember anything useful.”

Nor was she useful, but she didn’t add that. The mental barrier between her and Cosmo would remain so he didn’t overhear her more disturbing thoughts. She hadn’t entirely forgiven Blonda for revealing her suicidal ideation. Hopefully, none of that showed in her face.

“You would know who is in disguise,” Jorgen pointed out. “Glamor does not work if you know what they are concealing.”

Wanda’s chest tightened. The thought of being near those monsters again brought her terror closer to the surface. Black spots danced before her eyes. Maybe it was good that she was restrained. Her wand would’ve been shooting off warning sparks.

“I doubt she’s in any shape for subterfuge,” Vesta said contemptuously. Wanda bristled. They were in a lounge instead of the meeting room; cushy aquamarine armchairs were scattered around coffee tables. A TV in the corner was mounted to the wall and showed the news on mute. The newscaster, a man who resembled Chet Ubetcha except for being fey, floated above his news desk and showed a picture of Asmodeus. Wanda cringed.

“She can’t even look at him without flinching,” Vesta said.

Wanda gritted her teeth. She wanted to wring her neck. Vesta's smug, self-righteous attitude had to stop, or what was left of Wanda’s patience would disintegrate. She felt like she was holding onto it by the skin of her teeth.

“Leave her alone!” Timmy snapped, jumping in front of his godparents. “What is your problem? Why do you hate Wanda so much?”

Vesta cast Wanda a contemptuous look.

“If it hadn’t been for her, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Vesta retorted haughtily.

“No, we would not be in this mess if someone had apprehended the Unseelie king and queen when they were tormenting Magdalene,” Jorgen snapped. “They broke the treaty hundreds of years before Asmodeus laid eyes upon Wanda. Do not blame her for Asmodeus’s cruelty.

“You originally wanted to root out the Unseelie Court, do not forget.”

Vesta was caught between a rock and a hard place. She glanced around, but the five other Council members either hid behind their hoods or cast her nasty looks. Wanda gasped as the straitjacket vanished, and Cosmo embraced her once she was free. She wrapped her arms around him.

“All right, fine,” Vesta snapped. “I might have been mistaken.”

“Wait,” Timmy said, holding up a hand. “You pointed us at the Unseelie Court in Germany? This was your fault?”

Cosmo was holding her so tightly that her arms were stuck at her sides. It prevented her from launching herself at Vesta, so that might’ve been a good thing. Nonetheless, she could feel her rage mounting. This bitch was the reason she’d endured so much bullshit.

This…arrogant…cunt. Wanda was not one to use curse words lightly, but this woman merited it. She was shaking furiously, and she could barely breathe. Red replaced the black spots in her vision. A vein throbbed in Wanda’s forehead. She could taste her anger burning in her throat. No one had restored Wanda’s wand to her, which was just as well. She felt homicidal.

Cosmo cast one look at her face and gulped. He was weighing whether it was safe to release her and not be caught in the crossfire or restrain her and prevent her from tearing into Vesta. Indecision paralyzed him.

”I assumed your fairies would be more competent than they were,” Vesta said, shrugging, but she could tell she’d lost the Council’s support. The five other Council members glared daggers, and Jorgen, who was likewise holding his temper, looked liable to snap anyway. Wanda snarled, feeling trapped.

Cosmo released her; she wasn’t surprised. Unless the Bond whipped him into a frenzy, he was inherently a coward. Besides, he had experience with Wanda’s rage. It was safer not to be holding her when she felt murderous.

“This is your fault,” Timmy snapped. “Don’t you dare try to blame my godparents?”

”He is right,” Jorgen snapped, forestalling Vesta’s inevitable denial. “You underestimated the Unseelie Court, and it was Wanda and the other abducted fairies who paid the price.”

Vesta searched for support only to come up short. Wanda’s fists balled; no one had returned her wand yet. Anger burned in the back of her throat.

Vesta folded her arms across her chest. “I won’t apologize for other people’s problems.”

”I won’t apologize for wishing the Unseelie Court had gotten to you instead,” Wanda said scathingly. Her hair had turned into flames, and her voice trembled when she spoke.

Vesta’s eyes widened. Wanda glared back. Wanda wasn’t normally the type to wish that fate on someone. However, after everything she’d endured, including the last time Ozy had kidnapped her, Wanda wasn’t fucking around. She meant every word of it.

“I was going to suggest that we ask Wanda to see if she can help ferret out the Unseelie fairies infiltrating Fairy World,” Bridget said, grimacing. “But things are contentious enough without adding that volatility to the mix.”

”Then how do you propose we locate them?” Vesta said. Her rancor had faded; she sounded uneasy as if Wanda had the power to make good on her threat. It shouldn’t have amused her, but it did. Cosmo and Timmy shot her worried glances.

”The only way I’d consider it would be if one of us protected her,” Bridget said. She balled her fists, too. “I won’t let anything else happen to her. Heaven knows she’s been through enough. Or don’t you agree, Vesta?”

Bridget’s words were acidic, dripping sarcasm, and Wanda smiled cruelly. She could feel Bridget’s loathing, and it fed the dark places inside of Wanda that Asmodeus had cultivated.

Timmy grabbed Wanda’s hand impulsively, and Wanda’s schadenfreude evaporated. She drifted lower and hugged him; Timmy and Cosmo pulled her close, and her heart, which had been pounding, slowed. They had a calming influence on her, despite Timmy’s obvious rancor toward Vesta. Cosmo was playing with her curls, and her smile warmed and became genuine.

“Yes, fine, all right, I agree,” Vesta said as if they were pulling teeth. “We’ll have someone following her.”

“It can’t be you,” Wanda snapped, though her words were less vitriolic than they’d been.

“I agree,” Marinos said. “It has to be someone Wanda can trust in a pinch.”

“She can trust me,” Cosmo protested. Wanda cupped his cheek and pecked him on the lips. Love for him flowed through her, and her smile broadened when he reciprocated through their mental link. He might’ve been an idiot, but he was her idiot.

“Unfortunately, we can’t,” Marinos said, grimacing. “Cosmo, you went insane when Wanda was trapped in the hotel. You’re also unreliable magically, and Wanda’s emotional state is bound to affect yours. No, this has to be a Council member.”

Timmy squeezed Wanda’s hand, and she squeezed back.

“I’ll go,” Bridget said, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t trust Vesta as far as I can throw her, and we don’t need to borrow more trouble.”

“Why borrow it when we already have it?” Cosmo said, and Wanda groaned, facepalming. The others ignored him.

“If that’s all right with you?” Bridget asked, and Wanda nodded. Her chest was tight, and tears burned her eyes. She was pathetically grateful to have support, perhaps because she’d lacked it for almost seven months. It was about time the Council took her seriously.

“All right, well, now that that’s settled,” Bridget said, “we need to discuss where they might be, what their plans might entail, and how to thwart them before things go any further downhill.”

The others nodded. Wanda wished she felt half as confident as Bridget sounded. Her stomach churned unhappily, and she gritted her teeth. Asmodeus and Ozymandias, the biggest threats to Fairy World in general and her in particular were safely contained-at least for now. Big Daddy would probably tear them a new one if they managed to escape. She worked on her breathing to calm down.

The other Unseelie fairies were small fries compared to their leader, and she’d only obeyed them because of the curse. It had nothing to do with possessing superior magic to hers. She swallowed a lump in her throat and realized that she was shaking in terror. She wasn’t going it alone this time, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t petrified of the possibilities.

“Unless you’d rather take a breather first? You’ve had a rough day,” Bridget said. Wanda opened her mouth, about to refute that, when she sagged in midair. It felt like someone had drained her body of any hint of magic or energy, and she was about to crash. Cosmo glanced at her, and she looked away before forcing herself to meet his gaze lest he panic.

She didn’t know what he saw, but he winced.

“A breather would be good,” Wanda admitted.

“We’ll reconvene in twelve hours,” Bridget declared. She slammed a gavel down on a coffee table, and Cosmo, Wanda, and Timmy discovered themselves back in their house. Magdalene and Nathaniel were watching the babies, which was a relief because she didn’t think she could handle any more problems.

Wanda collapsed onto the couch and curled into a ball. She was too pooped to poof into the bedroom. Her limbs felt leaden.

“Are you okay?” Timmy asked, sitting beside her.

“I don’t even know anymore, hon,” she said, closing her eyes. Cosmo pulled her into his lap, and she smiled.

“I love you, too, hon,” she said. They were two halves of a whole idiot, and his presence was reassuring.

Timmy hesitated; she knew he wanted to discuss something, possibly his parents, but he was afraid of rocking the boat any further.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” she reassured him. “We’re here for you.”

“Mom doesn’t remember having me, she thinks I was a miscarriage, but she wishes that I existed,” Timmy blurted. “Can’t I do anything about it? Make her feel better?”

“I don’t know…” Wanda said, mulling it over. “Give us a bit to think it over.”

“Or just her, because I don’t think!” Cosmo said brightly. Wanda smiled faintly, cozying up to Cosmo. It was amazing how much better she felt surrounded by her family.

“Maybe show her a sign that I exist?” Timmy persisted.

“Fairy World needs to remove the amnesia they gave godchildren’s human parents,” Wanda mused. “Tit for tat. We could convince them to restore your parents’ memories since the Council owes us big time.”

“I like tits!” Cosmo said, and Wanda groaned. Despite herself, she laughed and nuzzled his hand.

“I know you do, hon,” she said.

“Too much information,” Timmy said. He brightened. “But you can do it?”

“I believe so, yes,” she said.

“Sweet!” Timmy said, springing to his feet. “I can’t wait to tell Chester and AJ that I might be coming home soon!”

Wanda frowned, opening her eyes. “Where did you tell them you were?”

“Uh, at a relative’s house with unpredictable internet and bad cell phone reception,” Timmy said. “Aunt Gertrude.”

“Ah,” she said. “That works.”

“Of course it does,” Timmy said, scoffing. "Thanks to you two, I have a lot of experience with lying.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, relaxing on the sofa. She shut her eyes again and was dimly aware of Cosmo scooping her up to poof them elsewhere. Probably to the bedroom, if she had to wager a guess. She had nothing to fear from Cosmo, after all.

She knew he’d never hurt her unless it was accidental.

She trusted him more than anyone in the universe right now. As long as the Council was vigilant and her family was there, she should be okay.

That was her last thought before falling fast asleep. That…and a random image of Big Daddy. She shivered. She was sure that if Big Daddy had his way, Asmodeus and Ozymandias would be chopped into tiny pieces and scattered to the winds.

They deserved it.

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Asmodeus had finally broken out of the hex that Fairy World had laid upon him and Ozymandias. Infuriated with their manipulation, he’d sent his dark magic crawling along Abracatraz’s hallways until he found what he was looking for. His wand was almost useless, but that didn’t matter. The Council, in their rush to apprehend them, hadn’t prohibited Asmodeus from using dark magic. They’d only limited his wand, which was a waste of time. Asmodeus didn’t like using light magic if he could help it. It drained him too much, and besides, it was weak and inferior.

Abracatraz contained anti-fairies, including, interestingly enough, Anti-Cosmo. Asmodeus knew the taste of his magic because it was inimical to Cosmo’s. As an anti-fairy, his magic was close enough to Asmodeus that he could draw upon it at will. Closing his eyes, Asmodeus uttered a spell and grabbed Ozymandias’s hand. He was going to break his second-in-command’s spell, too.

He wanted to tear Jorgen and that Seelie slut a new one for putting them through this. If Jorgen and the Council had thought reliving Wanda’s trauma would induce remorse, they were sadly mistaken. It had only galvanized Asmodeus and infuriated him. She’d suffered because she was weak and subservient to him. Everything he’d subjected her to, she’d deserved.

After he’d wedged himself between Cosmo and Wanda, Asmodeus had an affinity for Cosmo’s magic or its inverse. He didn’t know what would happen if an anti-fairy died and how it would affect his counterpart, nor did Asmodeus care. Instead, once he’d secured the connection, Asmodeus siphoned off Anti-Cosmo’s magic and life energy.

Anti-Cosmo grew weaker and weaker; Asmodeus felt his heart slowing, and he grinned. In his mind, Anti-Cosmo was doubled over with his hand over his heart. It must’ve felt like the equivalent of a heart attack. Anti-Wanda was panicking, and Asmodeus sneered.

Maybe he should’ve started with her, but he wanted to teach Cosmo a lesson for rescuing Wanda earlier. Once Anti-Cosmo died, he’d move onto Anti-Wanda, provided that, if they possessed a Bond, his death didn’t ensure hers. Asmodeus didn’t think that anti-fairies had a magical link the way fairies did, but he knew next to nothing about anti-fairies.

Anti-Cosmo gasped. He’d collapsed to the floor, and his already blue face had turned puce. Anti-Wanda was about to raise the hue and cry when Asmodeus silenced her, too. He didn’t need someone announcing his intentions.

Fresh loathing for Cosmo and Wanda filled Asmodeus to the brim, and he used Anti-Cosmo’s magic to snap Anti-Wanda’s neck. There was another magical barrier prohibiting him from touching her. No matter. He returned his focus to Anti-Cosmo and slit the anti-fairy’s throat.

Anti-fairies' blood was darker than their counterparts, but it still sparkled iridescently. Asmodeus admired his work; Anti-Wanda crashed onto the floor and crawled toward her husband. His breath slowed, and his eyes glazed over.

The color leached from his face; it had gone from puce to sky blue as oxygen and blood left him. Asmodeus felt the moment the anti-fairy’s heart stopped. He withdrew and turned to Ozymandias to crow about his victory. Instead, a glowing wand tip burned under his chin as Jorgen von Strangle lifted his head to force him to meet his gaze. Asmodeus scoffed.

“Too little, too late,” Asmodeus said and shrugged. “Better luck next time.”

“We have placed Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda in stasis until the damage you’ve caused can be reversed,” Jorgen snarled.

“If it can,” Asmodeus said smugly. “How many practitioners of the dark arts do you have in Fairy World, hmm?”

Jorgen’s eyes narrowed. “I choose not to answer that question.”

Asmodeus scoffed. “You have the one who healed that slut, and that’s it.”

Jorgen’s grip tightened on his wand. “Do not call her that.”

“And yet, you know exactly to whom I’m referring,” Asmodeus said. Ozymandias jerked out of his daze and watched the two of them warily. He still didn’t look entirely present, but that wouldn’t last. Asmodeus would be more than happy to eject him from that spell painfully.

Jorgen glowered.

“If Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda die, does that mean their counterparts die, too?” Asmodeus sneered. “Or can one live without the other? Anti-Cosmo must be in stasis to prevent further damage, assuming he hasn’t bled out. How’s Cosmo doing, then?”

Jorgen vanished, and Asmodeus laughed. That was his answer.

Anti-Cosmo’s fate had put Cosmo’s life in peril. He loved it.

Extending his magical senses, he reached toward Wanda. She was in a state of shock. Perfect. His hypothesis was correct. If Anti-Cosmo died, Cosmo would suffer, assuming he didn’t perish, too. Asmodeus felt Wanda’s heart pounding and pushed himself further into their corrupted link.

((What’s the matter, hon?)) he asked derisively. ((Didn’t you miss your master?))

Wanda choked, and he laughed.

((Don’t worry, my dear whore. There’s far more where that came from.))

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

Wanda had awoken in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Something was wrong, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. The Council had graciously allowed them until tomorrow to reconvene, something she’d thought generous until now. Using her wand, she flicked the lights on, and she gasped. Cosmo’s chest had stopped moving.

Frantic, she nudged him. Perhaps this was a fluke, or she was imagining things. However, Cosmo didn’t respond to her nudge. Terrified, she laid her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. There was only a faint echo.

When she reached for him mentally, he melted away into gray clouds. Wanda knew what that portended. She had no idea how this was happening.

Worse, his flesh was cool to the touch, far lower than his normal body temperature. Cosmo would’ve panicked if he’d discovered her like that, and she wasn’t far behind. She didn’t want to rouse Timmy or the babies, but she didn’t want to be alone, either.

Squeezing her wand to regulate her emotions didn’t work. She hyperventilated and clawed her left arm until it gushed blood. That wasn’t enough. Her head spun, and nothing she tried woke Cosmo. She was bleeding all over everything, including his nightshirt and the bed. In her mind, she conflated her current state with the hotel, and reality slid away.

The hotel grew sharper in her mind, an inexorable hell she couldn’t escape, and then a giant military green fairy dust cloud appeared. Jorgen von Strangle took in the room, her deteriorating mental state, and then Cosmo’s condition. Her grasp on the present was tenuous, and Jorgen snarled, slamming his wand down. An icy breeze slapped her in the face, and she gasped, her eyelids fluttering.

“You are not there,” Jorgen barked. “You are here.”

Wanda nodded, though his words reached her from a distance. Jorgen growled, grabbing her by the face and shaking her so hard that her teeth rattled.

“I need you to stay sane, Wanda Cosma!” Jorgen shouted.

“You’re going to wake the kids,” Wanda said weakly. She didn’t even know what time it was, only that it was far too early to deal with this. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she choked back a sob. Terror slammed down upon her and clutched her tightly in its grip. She could barely breathe.

“CALM DOWN!” Jorgen roared.

Cosmo and Wanda’s bedroom door slammed open so hard that the door bounced off the wall. Timmy, clad in his pajamas, stood there with Leander in his arms. Lily and Matilda floated on either side of him. The twins wailed, flailing their little fists, and Leander sniffled, gearing up to join his siblings.

“I told you that you were going to wake them,” Wanda said.

“Oops,” Jorgen said, flushing in embarrassment. “I may have been too loud.”

“Ya think?” Timmy snapped. He took in the tableau before him and blanched. Without thinking, he rushed to the bed and his godparents. The twins healed Wanda, and Leander poked Cosmo’s cheek. Cosmo’s head lolled. Impulsively, Wanda conjured a mirror to check Cosmo’s breath. It was faint, but his breath misted the glass. She sagged, exhausted again.

“What the hell happened?” Timmy demanded.

“Mama…” the twins said mournfully. They hugged her.

“Asmodeus attempted to kill Anti-Cosmo,” Jorgen said gravely. “The effects spread to Cosmo and Wanda.”

He sighed. “I was off-duty and asleep when I received an urgent missive from Binky that he’d consulted the security tapes. I just barely prevented Asmodeus from snapping Anti-Wanda’s neck.”

He rubbed his eyes. “I cannot take many more of these sleepless nights.”

“You seriously didn’t think that Asmodeus could reach beyond his cell and get to them?” Timmy snapped. Once the twins had cleaned the bed, he sat on it and rested beside his godparents. Wanda stroked his hair; it wasn’t soothing her, but maybe it’d help him.

“We did not consider it, no,” Jorgen admitted. “We have been running on empty for a while now.”

“You can say that again,” Timmy grumbled. Jorgen ignored him.

“For now, we have placed Anti-Cosmo in stasis until we can undo the dark magic that stopped his heart.”

Wanda moaned, looking at Cosmo. Tears slid down her cheeks, and when she looked at Timmy, he was crying, too. She stared at the bedspread instead and tried not to think about how shallow Cosmo’s breathing was.

“We will have to take more stringent measures,” Jorgen said.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Timmy said.

Wanda opened her mouth to scold him for his profanity and then decided it wasn’t worth the bother. She felt hollow and out of sorts.

Lily, Matilda, and Leander shook their rattles so hard that they sounded like maracas. Startled, Wanda glanced at Cosmo. His color was restored, and his breathing steadied. He didn’t wake, but he looked further from death’s door.

“They know how much he means to you,” Jorgen said gravely. Wanda nodded; her throat was too tight to speak.

“I will return once I have met with the Council,” Jorgen promised and then vanished. Wanda sagged against the headboard and sighed.

“That was a close one,” Timmy said.

She studied him with half-lidded eyes. “What makes you think it’s over, sweetie? Because I don’t.”

“I’m not saying it is,” Timmy replied. “I’m saying that the babies know you’re suffering and want to help if you’ll let them.”

Wanda glanced from Timmy to the babies and back. She thought of that one infant left in the NICU and sighed.

She would probably want to help, too, if she could. Wanda was so damn tired.

“Let me get some sleep,” she begged and curled up with Cosmo in her lap. The babies joined her. Timmy, to her surprise, did, too.

“You don’t want to sleep in your own bed, sport?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Not tonight,” he said. “I wanna stay with you guys and keep an eye on things.”

“That’s sweet,” she said. “I doubt you’ll be able to do much, but that’s sweet, nonetheless.”

“I love you guys,” Timmy said.

“We love you, too,” she reassured him and closed her eyes. She mumbled, “If only love was enough…”

“What was that?” Timmy asked sharply, and she shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she murmured. Sleep chased her down a dark hole, and she succumbed to it.

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

It seemed that the twins had expended their magic on helping Cosmo. Timmy awoke at six a.m. both because his stomach was grumbling and because Wanda was having a nightmare. Cosmo remained unconscious, but Timmy sensed that wasn’t what was upsetting Wanda. Wanda whimpered, curling into a painfully tight ball.

He was leery of waking her. The last time hadn’t gone so well. Plus, he feared that the more flashbacks and nightmares she had, the more he was losing her.

His phone buzzed; who on earth was contacting him at six a.m.? Confused, he answered without checking the number that flashed on the screen.

“Hello?” he said. He cleared his throat; he sounded as groggy as he felt.

“Who is this?”

Timmy dropped the phone on the bed and then scooped it up. “Mom?”

“You’re listed in my phone as ‘Timmy,’ but I don’t know any Timmys,” his mother said, sounding baffled. “But your voice and name sound so familiar. You wouldn’t, by any chance, own a silly pink hat, would you?”

In the last few days, he’d had to cope with his parents forgetting his existence, Wanda’s continued mental anguish and being too late to prevent her from being abused again, half of the Council dying, Wanda’s profuse bleeding and miscarriage…

It was a lot for an eleven-year-old to handle.

Timmy burst into tears. Huge, wracking sobs trembled his frame, and he hugged himself fiercely. Tears slid into his mouth, and he coughed, which only prompted harder sobs.

“Mom…” he whimpered. “Mom, I miss you so much.”

“‘Mom?’” she repeated. “I’m not your mother. I don’t think. I’d remember giving birth to you.”

“That’s because--” he stopped himself and forced himself to take a deep, calming breath. “That’s because I went away on a school trip with my friends Chloe and Tootie, and we gave you something so you wouldn’t worry about us while we were gone.”

“Then you’re real?” Mrs. Turner said, and he heard tears in her voice. “My dreams aren’t just fiction? I really do have a son?”

“Yes,” Timmy said and pressed his fist to his mouth to keep from sobbing and blocking the mic between his tears and the snot running down his fast. He wished his mom could hug him right now and tell him everything was going to be okay.

Of course, that was debatable if she’d be home, since his parents always dumped him on Vicky and then left. Timmy scowled, reluctantly calming down.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” she said. “I thought I was going crazy.”

“No, not yet,” he teased weakly. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied movement. Wanda had stirred and sat up. She was staring at him, but she had a lost expression on her face, like an abandoned child. It frightened him that an immortal being like her could resemble a kid. She was supposed to be his godmother. A parental figure, not barely older than the twins.

“When are you coming home, young man? We’ve got a lot to discuss,” his mother said. “Like what happened to all of your stuff, for one thing. Also, I need to inform your father that you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”

“You do that,” Timmy said, subdued.

“I’ll call you again later,” she said. Her tone sounded more like a threat than a promise. He gulped, agreed, and then said goodbye. Wanda’s thousand-yard stare was unnerving.

Timmy snapped his fingers in front of her face, and she scowled, pushing his arm away.

“I’m fine, hon,” Wanda said testily. Her tone softened when she saw him brushing away errant tears. Wanda thumbed them away. He felt loved and wanted by both mother figures, but he couldn’t help but notice that a part of Wanda was absent. Uneasy, he glanced at Cosmo, and she followed his gaze. She sighed.

“I know,” she said in a tight voice. “I know he’s…”

She trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. Instead, she shook her head. With a bitter smile, she said, “It doesn’t matter how much sleep I get. I’m always exhausted when I awaken.”

She glanced at the twins, too. “I’m not surprised their vigilance failed last night. They can only do so much, and Cosmo’s predicament was far more imminent than mine.”

“You looked like you were being chased by, like, every Unseelie fairy in the universe,” Timmy said, grimacing. “Like your soul was in mortal peril, never mind your body.”

Wanda snorted softly. “I’m not sure that’s entirely inaccurate, sport. My perspicacity regarding my dreams would agree.”

“Your what now?” Timmy said, staring blankly.

“Never mind,” she said, groaning and facepalming. “I forgot about your aversion to books and education.”

She studied Cosmo. “I thought Jorgen would’ve returned by now.”

“Same,” Timmy said. He tried to look into her eyes, but she looked askance. This was becoming an annoying habit. Chalk it up to the ever-increasing list of things he found troublesome about his godmother.

He remembered confronting the Council about losing Cosmo and Wanda as godparents and Wanda questioning her suitability for the position. He wondered, though he’d never admit it aloud, whether she might not have had a point. (Besides, he didn’t want to risk losing her again, regardless of how he felt.)

“I’m sorry to have awoken you, sweetie,” she said. “Why don’t you try sleeping in your own room? I’ll put the babies back in the nursery, and you can get some shut-eye without my nightmares intruding.”

“Wanda…” Timmy said, uncertain how to proceed. She frowned.

“What is it?”

“I’m worried about you,” he blurted and then glowered, irritated at himself for spilling the beans so quickly after vowing not to. “I’m worried that I’m going to lose you to either the PTSD or the Unseelie king.”

One of the things he loved about Wanda was that she almost never blew him off, not if she knew he was seriously concerned. She pulled him closer.

“I am, too,” she admitted. “But I’m still hanging on. I won’t give up, and neither should you. I love you, hon, and don’t forget it.”

Cosmo’s eyelids fluttered, and Timmy and Wanda held their breaths. Cosmo straightened up, glancing at the two of them in bewilderment, and said, “So, what’d I miss?”

Wanda burst into tears.

“That bad, huh?” Cosmo said.

“You almost died, you idiot!” Wanda cried, burying her face in her hands. “Asmodeus tried to kill Anti-Cosmo and almost succeeded. The attack nearly took you out with Anti-Cosmo.”

“Oh,” Cosmo said quietly. His exuberance had faded in the face of Wanda’s somber mood. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” she repeated. “Am I okay? I almost lost you for the umpteenth time to Asmodeus, and I’m still having nightmares about being molested. I feel like I’ll never be okay again.”

Gasping back sobs, she flung herself at him. Cosmo looked baffled.

“Did I do something wrong?” Cosmo said. He clearly had no idea what Wanda was talking about. Timmy facepalmed.

“Don’t even ask, dude,” Timmy said. He was reluctant to discuss Wanda’s nightmare with either her or Cosmo. “You’re better off not knowing.”

“How is he better off not knowing that Asmodeus stopped Anti-Cosmo’s heart?” Wanda demanded. “Or that Asmodeus tried to snap my counterpart’s neck?”

Cosmo blanched, looking grave. Wanda sighed, facepalming and dragging her hand down her face.

“Never mind. That’s not a discussion to have at six am,” she said, shaking her head. “We can discuss it later if you absolutely must, but not now.”

“No, I wanna talk about it now,” Cosmo said stubbornly. She groaned; of course. It wasn’t bad enough that she’d spent her entire night plagued by nightmares. Now, she had to contend with Cosmo’s curiosity at the wrong time. Her shoulders sank. The nightmare’s visions would not leave her.

Healing Cosmo had been imperative, more important than soothing her subconscious. Without the twins, Cosmo would have died, and the PTSD would ramp up. That didn’t make the bitter pill any easier to swallow.

“All right, fine,” Wanda said, folding her arms across her chest. “Jorgen and the Council dropped the ball again, and Asmodeus must’ve siphoned off Anti-Cosmo’s magic to kill him.”

She shuddered, feeling chilled from within. “I don’t know all of the details beyond what I could sense--I know Asmodeus tried to break my counterpart’s neck and that he slit Anti-Cosmo’s throat.”

Her stomach roiled again, and she couldn’t stop shaking. She burst into tears and grabbed Cosmo and Timmy in a fierce embrace. For a few minutes, she was hysterical. Timmy sat in a state of shock; Cosmo, whether it was because he was in tune with her emotions or because he realized how close to death he’d come, likewise sobbed. She could barely breathe; it felt like her chest was being compressed.

“Mama?” one of the twins said, and Wanda shook her head. She couldn’t respond; while she was anchored in the present, devastation wreaked havoc on her mental state. She’d come within inches of losing Cosmo. If Jorgen hadn’t placed Anti-Cosmo in stasis in time, she might still have lost him. Jorgen hadn’t exactly returned speedily, which filled her with dread.

It was enough to stop her tears, though not because the thought calmed her. It was like it was too cold to snow on a mountain. She was too horrified to cry. Her lips trembled, and she bit her lower lip until it bled. The blood, oddly, restored her senses. She needed to stop mauling herself.

“We need to see Jorgen,” Wanda said once she could speak again. (It took several throat-clearing attempts before she was successful.)

“We need to find out what’s going on,” she said. She felt faint, and she glanced at Cosmo desperately.

“You’d know if Anti-Cosmo died, right, hon?” she said.

Cosmo frowned, thinking it over. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Fuck,” she said, prompting the twins, Timmy and possibly Leander, if he’d joined the twins, to gasp. She ignored them; she’d more than earned the right to curse occasionally.

“Would you have any way of knowing?” Timmy asked after he’d gotten over the shock of her swearing. “Like, would you feel a disturbance in the Force?”

“That’s Star Wars, sweetie,” she said. Cosmo had stopped crying. He was watching her like she might spring at him, but she ignored him.

“Don’t you have a magical sense when something happens to your counterparts?” Timmy persisted.

“Well, no,” she said.

“Nothing’s happened to our counterparts before,” Cosmo pointed out. “How would we know?”

“Shit,” Timmy said and then glanced at Wanda. She shook her head; another freebie, for what it was worth.

“Shouldn’t we check in on them first?” Timmy said.

“We should if we’re allowed in,” she said. She glanced around and dressed everyone. Sighing, she decided breakfast would be in the cards soon, provided they didn’t lose their appetites discovering what had transpired with Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda.

Though the tears had abated, she still trembled. She had no idea what to expect or whether Timmy was right about their lives being linked. The only reason Wanda knew how Asmodeus had harmed their counterparts was because the asshole had forcibly inserted himself into Wanda’s Bond with Cosmo.

Cosmo slid his fingers between hers as they arrived in Jorgen’s office. He was terrified, and she wished she could comfort him. She had nothing to say.

Then another dreadful thought occurred to her, as these things do when you’re overstressed.

Asmodeus had nearly killed the anti-fairies, and Jorgen had apprehended him. If Asmodeus possessed Anti-Cosmo’s magic, that was a serious problem. With it, he could abscond from Abracatraz and run amock in Fairy World. Moreover, he might discover an infant lying in the NICU. Wanda would be responsible for the child’s fate if she failed to warn the hospital.

“We need to check on the baby,” Wanda said. Cosmo stared blankly.

“What baby?”

“The one in NICU. The one whose sibling I miscarried,” she said and choked, crossing her fingers she wouldn’t burst into tears again.

“Why do we need to do that now?” Timmy said. “Shouldn’t we wait for Jorgen?”

“If Asmodeus managed to break whatever hold the Council put on him after he attacked the anti-fairies, he has Anti-Cosmo’s magic. Anti-fairy magic is much more compatible with Unseelie fairies than Seelie magic. He’d seek out the closest, more vulnerable kin.

“And that’s their sibling.”

She gulped. “I may be ambivalent about her, but I can’t leave her unprotected. I’d feel awful if anything happened. She doesn’t deserve Asmodeus’s attention.”

“You didn’t either,” Cosmo said quietly. He squeezed her hand.

“I know,” she said. She glanced into his eyes briefly, and her heart skipped a beat. “I know it wasn’t my fault what happened.”

For a second, she lost herself in his eyes. The same must’ve happened to him because they lost track of time. It wasn’t until Timmy snapped his fingers in their faces that they sprang apart and flushed, feeling guilty.

“Enough from you two lovebirds,” Timmy said, rolling his eyes. “Are we going to the hospital to warn the staff or not?”

“We’re going,” Wanda said. Cosmo grinned, sticking his tongue out. He could be utterly impudent, and he was all hers. She hugged him as they held up their wands (or rattles) to transport them to the hospital.

When they arrived, her heart was in her throat. Something was very wrong; she could tell as soon as they poofed into the waiting room. It was relatively early, so she wasn’t surprised to find few people on duty. On the other hand, the hospital had an eerie quiet, the kind that often preceded murder in horror movies. It terrified her.

“What’s going on?” Timmy said; he was the first to break the silence. “Hospitals shouldn’t be as quiet as graveyards.”

“I know,” Wanda said, her voice weak and her throat scratchy. “Something’s happened. I just hope we’re not too late.”

They tried to jump to the NICU, but an invisible barrier blocked them. Beyond that were crackling flames and black, billowing smoke. Wanda’s heart fell.

“That’s not good…” Cosmo said, stating the obvious.

“Well, no shit,” Timmy snapped.

“We’re too late…” she breathed. “He’s already been here. If not him, then one of his underlings. I should have thought of that sooner.”

“It’s not your fault,” Timmuy rushed to say, and she shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” she said, nonetheless disgusted with herself. “It’s too much to hope that she’s still there. We’ll have to rouse Jorgen sooner than we’d anticipated.”

“Boy, he’s not gonna be happy to see us,” Cosmo said.

“Is he ever?” Timmy pointed out.

Wanda groaned, facepalming. The twins patted her cheek reassuringly. “No, not really.”

Her stomach churned. She hoped Asmodeus or his minion hadn’t taken one look at the child’s sex and decided she wasn’t worth the trouble. Tears flooded her eyes; Fairy World should’ve taken more precautions. She couldn’t bear the blame for everything.

She wanted to blame Vesta because it was convenient and because the other fairy was a shrew. Yet there were more fairies on the Council, even after the Unseelie fairies had partly decimated it, than simply Vesta.

She would sleuth out those who had failed in their duties. It was more imperative than ever that they locate the infiltrators and apprehend them before it was too late.

Even if the king and his minion were incapacitated, they might still attempt a coup. If Fairy World remained ignorant of the dangers, they might even succeed.

Perhaps it was a good thing she had intended to eat breakfast later. She was too sick to think of food, much less eat.