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((Here’s Chapter 2. There will be more. I’m aiming at a happy ending in here somewhere. I hope anyway.))

—17—

A Junior in High school now, Timmy slammed the door on his time beaten old car. He stormed up the driveway, through the house, and finally collapsed on his bed, safe in sound in his action figure packed room. He ran his fingers through his now short brown hair. The cut was still new, and Timmy had yet to be used to the absence of his shoulder length hair. He breathed out quickly, rubbing his temples, letting his whole weight sink into his comforter.

Cosmo poofed out of his fish bowl. “Timmy?” He questioned. The boy was obviously upset. Cosmo briefly wished his wife was here. But no, today of all days, Wanda was in Fairy World at the Spa with some friends. What ever Timmy’s problem was, it was up to Cosmo to wish his problems away.

“What do you want Cosmo?” The boy sounded tired. Today he wore a faded pink sweat shirt and deep navy jeans. His untied tennis shoes barely clung to his toes, threatening to plunge into the plush carpet below. He tried to brush his hair into his face, but the cut was to short. Timmy cursed the damn barber who snipped it to close, robbing him of his locks.

“You ok Timmy?” Cosmo asked, hovering over the boy’s right shoulder. “You look tired.” He cocked his head to the side, flashing his God child a smile. “Hey, I know! Make a wish! You haven’t wished for anything all week!” Indeed, lately Timmy had taken it upon himself to make his own lunches, and attempt to fix is car’s AC by himself. He rarely wished for anything now, save for the occasional art pencils or new inking markers for his comic book that he was working so hard on. “How about a new bike! Or a cheese wheel!” Cosmo rambled on in his air headed absent minded way. “Yeah, cheese is good! Cheeeeese!”

“I have a car, and what would I need a cheese wheel for?” The teen replied. He rolled onto his stomach, hitting the ON button of his stereo. The boy slumped into his pillow, letting the deep, soul cleansing screech of guitars and key boards wash over him. The mellow, hypnotic cry tore out of the boom box, numbing Timmy’s thoughts.

“Awwww. Timmy. Wish for something! Anything! A new Dog? Some action figures! A new phone? The new Crimson Chin video game? So new ear rings? More pink shirts? A new sketch pad? Crayons!!!” Cosmo bounced around the room, listing off a million and one things to wish for. Many items on the list Timmy hadn’t wished for since he entered the hormone flooded years of teen-dom.

“I wish you would stop bugging me!” Timmy sat up, throwing a pillow at the fairy. Cosmo took the feather assault in the face. The limp pillow fell onto the floor, and Cosmo, sobered by the God child’s out burst lowered himself to the floor, resigning to one of the few bean bags that Timmy had replaced all his chairs for.

“Cosmo...” Timmy sighed, adverting his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He raised his eyes to his ceiling, letting his hair fall back behind his ears. He seemed to be studying his fan intently, letting ideas run through his head. Compiling pros and cons for various wishes. “I wish...that you were my size, just for a little while.”

Cosmo perked up, smiling. Happy that his God child had made a wish, but confused as to why this one, Cosmo appeared a 17 year old boy sitting on the bear bag. He still wore a tie, though it now was ill fitting, and his green hair still seemed to defy gravity. Cosmo laughed, poking himself in the stomach. After a few seconds of this, a sigh escaped his God child’s lips. “I wish...” Timmy muttered “That you would come here.”

Cosmo happily obliged, sitting on the bed next to the other boy, enjoying the plush cushioning against is fuller form. Timmy wrapped his arms around Cosmo’s waist slowly, leaning his head against his God Father’s chest. Cosmo’s spine stiffened a little. Timmy was no child anymore. His hot breath caressed Cosmo’s neck softly. In the pit of Cosmo’s belly a small little butterfly clawed out of it’s cocoon, scratching and ripping at the sides of his stomach.

“Today at school sucked.” Timmy whispered. “It just sucked.” Cosmo held the boy in his arms, savoring the feel of their bodies pressed together. He didn’t ask what had happened. If Timmy wanted him to know, he would tell him. But Timmy didn’t utter a word. Boy and Fairy simply sat on his bed, tangled in each other’s arms for hours until the younger fell asleep in his God father’s arms.

One more year. What would Timmy do without him? Cosmo wondered.

What would he do without Timmy?

—19—

Cosmo stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. His skin jumped and crawled as the faint warm numbness met with an icy splash as his water heater finally threw in the towel. The water squeaked off, a fluffy jade towel poofed itself around his waist as he stepped out. Yes, he was the only one of the house, but there was no sense in walking around naked and cold.

He quickly ran another towel across the top of his head, spiking up his wet hair into damp unruly towers. In his bed room, he crawled into his usual sleek black pants and suave button up shirt. Wrapping his towel around his neck, he ventured into their living room. Outside, clouds hovered over Fairy world. It rarely rained in the magical realm, but when it did, you did not want to be outside. You had a good chance of becoming a toad, thanks to the magical little rain drops.

So the silent disconsolate midmorning passed behind the pastel pink curtains. He looked around at this room. It smelled like lilac and fresh clothes. So like his mother’s home which smelled like cookies and scented candles. So unlike Timmy’s room, so thick and familiar, like spilled soda cans and plastic wrapped action figures. No, this was just clean and light. It held no substance. It was in no way him. It was Wanda. Wanda’s house cleaning, Wanda’s organization, all Wanda. It was not him, and it certainly wasn’t Timmy.


Cosmo found himself starring out the window at the hazy sky. Framed by the sidewalk, a few green and pink flowers stayed in the breeze, waiting for the oncoming storm. Green, for him. And Pink for Wanda. But Pink was Timmy’s color too. His pink shirts, pink hat, Timmy was just as pink as Wanda. Cosmo examined these little lilies, trying to remember if they were Wanda Pink or Timmy Pink. Which hue were they? The green was surely him, but this pink...was it Wanda’s wintery pink, or Timmy’s? Him and his wife, or him and Timmy, which was this little flower bed? It was driving him insane. Wanda or Timmy?

Wanda or Timmy?

The girl he had married, or the boy he loved?

—17 & 364/365—

“Timmy, we need to talk.” Wanda had said. How long had they put this off? They couldn’t put it off any longer. It was 11:50 at night. Cosmo hovered in the corner, unable to lift his head to even glace at his God child. His perfect, adorable, loveable, God child. Timmy and Wanda had talked. Timmy had guessed as much. He wasn’t dumb.

There was no moon in the sky. Only cold, desolate, little islands of white, piercing the arctic night sky. Wanda’s hair fell loose around her shoulders, tears brimming in her eyes as she tried to tell her God child good bye. 11:59 at night.

Timmy smiled a little and walked over to Cosmo. The little fairy collapsed into this child’s, no, this man’s embrace. Please, let this moment never end.

—18—

12:00 glared out of the small Crimson Chin alarm clock. In a small explosion, there stood Jorgen. He ordered them say good bye. Cosmo couldn’t. No. He wouldn’t. The large buff fairy grabbed Wanda, who had resigned to a sad acceptance, and reached to pull Cosmo out of Timmy’s reach. And Timmy let him.

“Don’t worry about me Cosmo.” Timmy said, smiling. “I’m all grown up now. I barely have any school left, and then I’ll be a great comic book artist!” He explained. Wanda smiled weakly, happy for the young boy she had raised.

“No Timmy! You need us!” A few small tears welled in his eyes. The small little organ in his chest pounded mercilessly.

“Not anymore Cosmo.” Timmy stated. His heart broke. “Good bye Cosmo.”

“No! Timmy!” Cosmo cried as Jorgen pulled him away. “No! I love you! I love you Timmy Turner!” He sobbed, hot tears burning down his cheeks.


“I love you too Cosmo. Good bye.” The boy replied. Jorgen informed him that as soon as they left, Timmy would forget them, all their time together, everything. That love meant nothing.

“Timmy!” Cosmo cried, Wanda trying to take her husbands hand. “Timmy, I love you!”

But no one understood how much he meant it.

And then they were gone.

—19—

Timmy pink. They were Timmy pink lilies. That was for sure. The salty trails on his face assured that.

“I love you Timmy.”

But Timmy didn’t even know who he was anymore.

----

There will be a Chapter 3

I started reading the first one and continued this one out of what you might call morbid curiousity but if you keep writing I'm gonna start liking this pairing! >.< That's my way of saying it was good. ^^;

...how sad.. crying