"Admit it, Turner! Admit that you have: FAIRY GODPARENTS!"
"I do not!"
Five days later. The Friday rain was just as bad as the one that Monday. And he hasn't even seen, or heard, from them since.
Crocker spazzed and towered over Timmy's desk.
"I know you do! Why don't you just admit to you having FAIRIES?"
Timmy felt his heart jump to his throat, seeming to constrict his breathing until he only had small, erratic breaths. He clutched his head and screamed.
"I. DON'T. EVEN. KNOW. IF. I. DO!"
And for the first time, in the history of denying any of Crocker's accusations, he finally believed himself. That, alone, caused the tears to stream down his face.
Whether it was Crocker's shocked look, the students' loud gasps, or his own realization (that he even convinced himself!), he didn't know, but something made him run. Timmy just sprinted out of the classroom.
Did he even know where he was going?
He soon found himself standing under the canopy of the school's front porch. Looking around quickly, Timmy decided to continue running he could practically see the park from here.
Ignoring the stares he was probably getting from his classmates as he passed Crocker's classroom window, his shoes sloshed through the puddles gathering on the sidewalk.
Timmy didn't even bother to stop, even when his breathing got caught in his throat in exhaustion, until he made himself hit the trunk of a large tree. The pain was welcoming as he slid his back down against the trunk, the branches and leaves keeping any rain from hitting him. As he sat there quietly, the events of Monday and today hit him with a full force.
Timmy Turner finally broke down.
The school bell rang with full force. Students, already not caring about what happened to the boy with the pink hat, piled into the hallways, more than glad to start the weekend.
Except for one girl with long black hair pulled into two messy pigtails.
She instantly ran down the sidewalk, towards where she saw him run only an hour ago. She hoped he hadn't done anything drastic yet…
The sobs still escaped him. The tears just would not let up, no matter how many times he tried to stop it. And it wasn't like he could have gone home. Not only would he be in large quantities of trouble for running out of school like that, but what would his parents say if he came home crying?
A cold hand touched his shoulder, and his scream pierced the unusually quiet park. His head shot up to see who he thought his attacker was.
The girl sat down next to him, smiling comfortingly. Tootie closed her umbrella and shook it out.
"Care to explain?" She inquired.
He looked back down solemnly.
"And why, in which universe, would I talk to you about it?"
"Because I know you don't even want to talk to you family or friends about it."
Timmy looked over at Tootie, feeling slightly worse than before.
"You won't even consider yourself my friend? I thought you liked me."
"Well, let's get this out of the way, smart aleck. I don't consider us friends, because friends don't hate each other or insult each other on every turn!"
Timmy's eyes downcast and a dry sob escaped him. Tootie's angered expression turned to one of understanding.
"Oh, that's what happened…"
He glanced up at her confusedly.
She continued, "You hurt somebody, and now you regret it."
Timmy swallowed thickly, "How did you guess?"
"I'm good at reading people's emotions and expressions," Tootie said rather smugly, but it turned back down gently, "Want to elaborate?"
Timmy shook his head harshly the second he heard the question.
"I can't. I want to tell you. I wish I-" He stopped and swallowed sadly about what he accidentally said, "I wish I could tell you."
Nothing. No precious 'poofs', no waving of wands, no magic. No fairies. Nothing.
Not that he expected any.
Tootie watched him carefully as he looked out into the rain with sorrow. She sighed and stood. Timmy turned towards her tentatively when she reached her hand towards him. But he took it anyways.
She pulled him close to herself, wrapping an arm around his waist for comfort and support, "Come on, I'm taking you home."
It wasn't as long of a walk as he expected. In fact, it was just a little too short for his liking. Tootie's warmth, because he once again did not wear a jacket, and comforting hold kept him in this slightly delirious state of happiness, distracting him from his temporary (or permanent, because, at this point, he wasn't even sure) loss. They didn't speak or do much more than walk down the sidewalk under the black umbrella. Aside from Timmy occasionally dabbing at his eyes.
They both stopped outside the familiar purple door of the Turner's resident. Timmy and Tootie faced each other awkwardly.
Timmy scratched behind his head, "Tootie… thanks. I really want to tell you what happened, but I can't. I'm glad you talked to me anyways." His head hang downwards as he looked up and smiled shyly at her.
Tootie beamed back at him, glad she had done something that he found somewhat likable, "Well, you know me. I'm always here…" She shrugged a light blush on her cheeks.
Timmy smiled at her, "Is there any way I can help you? Repay you in a way?"
"Nah, nothing you could do for me…"
"Come on…" He laughed lightly, "I'm sure there's something I can do!"
Tootie's cheeks darkened, "Well, there is something I want…"
"It's something girls always want…"
"They see it in the movies…"
"Spit it out!"
She took a deep breath, "Iwantyoutokissmeintherain!"
Timmy shook his head quickly, "What?"
Tootie looked down sadly, "Nevermind, I'll see you Monday…"
"Wait!" Timmy suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her back, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. He let go of her the second his lips did.
He blushed and smiled, "Good?"
Tootie's composure as she tried to keep her cool.
"Yeah! Absolutely, great, wonderful…" Her voice shook as she spoke.
Timmy rose an eyebrow, but then gasped as she launched herself at him in an embrace. She composed herself and smiled at him, which he returned gratefully.
"See you Monday?"
She nodded enthusiastically, "Yes!"
Timmy dashed inside his house, calling behind him right before he shut the door, "Bye, Tootie!"
Before he could get any farther than the living room, he looked out the window to see Tootie jumping and dancing in the happiest daze he has ever seen a person in.
He sulked downstairs. He never really looked forward to family dinners, mostly because the dinners consisted nothing more than an awkward silence as silverware clattered against plates.
But, apparently, tonight was different.
As Timmy descended the stairway, he saw two plates of pasta, complete with silverware, sitting on the coffee table in the living room.
"Mom?" He questioned as his mother walked in carrying two cups of water, "What's this?"
"Well," She explained, "Your father is working out late tonight, and I thought you and I can eat together. Just watching a movie. Mother and son!"
This alone had caused Timmy's expression to change to one of utter shock. Never had his mother or father set aside one-on-one time together. Okay, so maybe it wasn't entirely their faults, but…
His expression changed to a large, beaming smile.
"Okay!" He leapt on the couch.
"What movie are we watching?"
Ten minutes later found the two watching a gut-wrenching, heart pounding, horror-thriller movie. Just to the usual Turner's liking.
Even at the very beginning, both had curled up together on the couch, Mrs. Turner cuddling against her son, and Timmy pressed up against his mother in fear. Okay, so he had chosen the movie himself. But he didn't expect the crazy and scary stuff to happen that quickly! Thus, catching him off-guard…
He screamed again at the sudden sighting of the psychotic murderer popping up out of the darkness. Timmy wrapped his arms around his mother and snuggled his face into her chest, breathing erratically. She ran her nails up and down his back comfortingly.
"Shh… Timmy…" She cooed, "It's only a movie. Nothing to be scared of…"
Timmy smiled looking up to meet his mother's gaze. She smiled back down at him lovingly. His heart warmed. Her embrace was strangely similar to Wanda's when he woke up from nightmares. Even her perfume was strangely similar to Wanda's- No.
No. No. Absolutely not.
His smile turned into a deep frown. It was wrong, on so many levels, for him to compare his mother's embrace to some other motherly figure. If anything, it should have been vice versa.
Mrs. Turner noticed the flicker of emotion, and muted the TV worriedly.
"Timmy, sweetie, is there something wrong?"
HE gulped and looked down.
"Mom, what do you do if you've insulted someone horribly?"
"Well, I guess it depends on who. Did you get in a fight with your friends?"
"NO. Well, yes… But my friends you don't know…" He flushed with embarrassment and worry.
Mrs. Turner thought, "Well, how much did you insult them?"
"I offended them beyond all reason! And I didn't mean to! I-I just…" tears started streaming down his face, "A-and I was just mad, and…"
"Shh, Timmy," His mother brushed away the tears, "Look, you made a mistake. Everyone does."
"B-but I hurt them! So much!"
"Timmy, how long ago did this happen?"
"Nearly a week."
"And do they respond maturely to sincerity?"
Timmy smiled slightly at the thought and rolled his eyes, albeit jokingly, "Some may argue more than others…"
"Then maybe it's time to apologize."
He looked up, utterly startled.
"Timmy, it's been nearly a week. More than enough time to cool down. I think that it's a good time to apologize for your mistake."
"But… but what if they don't talk to me? Or they won't listen? Or…" He gasped, "what if they don't want to talk to me again!"
"That's a chance you must be willing to take. At least you're trying to fix your mistake."
Timmy just sat there in his mother's arms, taking in the sweet scent and what see had just said. At least he'll be trying… right?
The soft and gently moment was instantly ruined by a man's shout… and his dad flying through the front door, into the kitchen. How? No one really knew the answer to that.
"I'm okay! Hey, look, pudding!" Mr. Turner called from the kitchen.
"Hey, Dad." Timmy smiled, feeling the setting become a more familiar feeling, but in a way he didn't understand.
He watched his mother bring a hand to her face in annoyance, but she couldn't hold back the amused smile that was fighting through nonetheless.
"Good to have you home, Dear."
Suddenly, a second large realization hit him. Except, this one seemed like a much happier one. His parents had the similar antics to Cosmo and Wanda. Even the ones he thought couldn't be replicated.
"You know what, Mom?" He waited until she looked down at him in acknowledgement, "You're right. I need to apologize. Thanks, Mom!" He gave her a peck on the cheek.
"I'll be back tomorrow, kay!"
With that last word, and seeing his mother laugh while shaking her head, Timmy ran back upstairs to his bedroom.
Digging through the drawers in his bedside table, he found what he was looking for.
A glowing purple pen with a golden star on top. The one that would instantly take him to Cosmo and Wanda.
With a hopeful sigh, he clicked the pen.
WHAT. SECOND CHAPTER.
*UNCE UNCE UNCE*
So, my brother decided to start reading my fanfics. He's particularily fond of "How to Become a Godparent".
He says I'm a good author, and I should write a book. YUS!
Bee Tee Dubs (BTW)- If you want Timmy/Wanda (not the PAIRING), mother-to-son fluff, check out my fanfic "Lullaby". It's my first most popular story! And, I also kept that story in mind when I was writing the Timmy-and-Mom scene, and when he compares his mom to Wanda!
ALSO: I bet you didn't see the TimmyxTootie fluffy stuff coming. Hint: Neither did I. xD
You know what they say: Writing is 25% inspiration, 50% Perspiration, and 25% surprise. (psh, that's what *I* say, at least…)
R & R PLEASE!