Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"AND IT'S NECK-AND-NECK TO THE FINISH!" the voice of renowned Olympic skater Scott Hamilton echoed across the Fairy World Stadium. Hamilton sat on a throne by the finish line of the stadium's track, where both the Head Pixie of the Pixies and Anti-Cosmo of the Anti-Fairies were desperately sprinting across. "BUT WHERE IS COSMO!?"

A small boy grabbed the microphone from Scott's hand. "WHERE ARE YOU, COSMO?" the boy, Timmy Turner, yelled into the microphone. "I DON'T WANNA WEAR EVIL SHORTS!"

The two humans watched hopelessly as the stakes rose higher than they were before. If Timmy's plan worked, Cosmo would come bursting through the portal above the stadium and rush past the competition in time. And if he didn't, Timmy would have to pay the price for it, a fact that was eating the boy alive the closer the two evildoers got to the finish line.

"AND IT LOOKS LIKE IT'S GOING TO BE A PHOTO FINISH!" Scott announced. Timmy gulped and hoped that either one of them would start trying to out-cheat the other again.

"WHO WILL WIN?!" Scott continued. "WHO WILL BE THE FAIRY. WORLD. GAMES. CHAMPION?"

Suddenly, there was a flash from the portal. Cosmo's head shot straight through. The stadium, predominantly occupied by fairies, cheered on as their chosen representative finally arrived on the scene. Timmy watched with anticipation as the head was looking to land pretty far on the track. He soared and stuck the landing and...

...stopped. Hard. Cosmo just barely reached the finish line, but not fast or far enough.

The flash went off. The crowd became dead silent as the photograph was displayed on the giant jumbotron.

"It's... the Anti-Fairies..." Scott announced, then frowned. "Huh. I didn't think my dream was going to be this depressing. Kinda was hoping for an underdog story with a moral at the end." He began pinching himself. "Come on, wake up!"

Meanwhile, Timmy was pinching himself on every part of his skin that he could think of. "COME ON, WAKE UP!" Timmy repeated frantically. He didn't think this would happen. He didn't want this to happen.

The boy desperately looked at Cosmo, Wanda, and Poof. Wanda looked frightened, whereas Poof and Cosmo were on the verge of crying.

"I'm so sorry, Timmy!" Cosmo choked on his tears. "It's all m-my fault!"

"Cosmo, I-!" Timmy began, only for a sharp beeping noise to cut through. Suddenly Timmy was in his bed, wide awake. His alarm had gone off. He sighed, his breath shaky.

"Oh, thank goodness it was just a dream!" Timmy told himself before looking around his room. It used to look worse, in Timmy's opinion. He didn't miss the bear rug or the flaming bedposts, nor was he mad about the colossal comic book collection in his walk-in closet.

But it wasn't his room and he never wanted it. The boy looked over at the calendar near the four poster bed and laughed mockingly. "Two months. Great."

Timmy made his way over to the closest and picked out his infamous pink shirt, pink hat, and grey pants. He was lucky to keep them, given how strict Anti-Cosmo was about upholding their deal. Actually, he was just strict in general.

Speaking of which, Timmy looked over at the clock as he finished getting himself dressed. 7:55 AM. He only had five minutes to get himself ready for breakfast. Turner sighed, grabbed a comb, and brushed his bedhead away. It was satisfying to see the end result each time, but it didn't make it any less of an annoyance for someone who just wanted to sleep in on a Saturday.

The clock changed to 8:00 AM, and he was soon "anti-poof!"-ed to a chair seated at the long, long table in the dining room. By this point, Timmy knew the hard way that, regardless of what state they were in, everyone was brought to the table at 8 AM every morning. Much of his first week consisted of him slouching, half-awake and barely able to process Anti-Cosmo's direct criticism towards his "unruliness," or however he described the boy.

Timmy sat a bit further away from the Anti-Cosma clan. Being the head of the family and the castle itself, Anti-Cosmo always graced the head of the table. To his left and on Timmy's right was Anti-Wanda. Unlike her husband, she was considerably sweeter towards Timmy and was more of an anti-fairy godparent than her husband. She also tried to teach him how to make the perfect sandwich and subsequently eat the sandwich with his own feet. Needless to say, Timmy felt odd being around her, but she was the closest he had to a friend.

Across from Timmy was Foop. As if any reminders of his old life weren't painful enough, the couple were finally given their answer to Timmy's godbrother, Poof. Timmy had seen many fights between the father and son duo and secretly rooted for Foop. As much as he'd torment Timmy with his personal playdates (of doom!), Foop was still a baby. And dumb as she was, Anti-Wanda was still treating her children, blood or otherwise, with nothing but respect. They weren't at fault.

It was Anti-Cosmo who Timmy had a gripe with. He was the one who burst into Jorgen's Pizza + Duck-Zooka Parlor to fight over, of all things, pizza. He was the one who offered to raise the stakes of the Fairy World Games. And, legally, he was now Timmy's guardian. The boy was ripped away from everything he once knew because of a dispute over pizza.

And to rub salt into the wound, Anti-Cosmo barely spent time with Timmy. Not that Timmy wanted to be around him for a second longer, but it felt as though he were taken for the anti-fairy's sadistic enjoyment. He didn't even remember how he became immortal once everything was sorted out. How-

"I called on you, did I not?" his voice struck Timmy back to reality. The boy glanced back up at him.

'Speaking of which,' he thought to himself sarcastically. "Yeah."

Anti-Cosmo crossed his arms. "Spacing out is a common thing for you, isn't it? Maybe that crackpot teacher wasn't so wrong after all."

'Or he was just a crackpot who got a teaching license by mistake.'

"Regardless, it's decided: Anti-Wanda and Foop are going to have to make their own plans, but we are further progressing with our agreement."

Timmy arched his eyebrows in confusion. "'Progressing' how?"

"Have you really forgotten so soon?" Anti-Cosmo exclaimed, then threw his arms out dramatically. "Fishing! We are going fishing as godfather and evil godchild!"

The boy frowned. "Are there any other options? Like, I dunno, literally anything else?"

"Don't get snappy at me with those buck teeth of yours, boy, or else I'll have us go fishing at the South Pole itself!" Once he was satisfied with Timmy's silence, Anti-Cosmo continued. "Your evil shorts have been folded and are on top of your bed. You'll be needing them today."

Timmy wanted to ask him how the shorts were still around when he specifically asked Anti-Wanda to burn them all. They, alongside Foop, even got to toast marshmallows on top of the flames. It was unconventional, but it was nice. But, then again, he was the only one there who was completely powerless. He couldn't anti-poof up clothing, but anyone else in the castle could easily present him with a wardrobe.

So instead, Timmy opted to finish his breakfast of a meager English muffin and orange juice (tea wasn't his style) before heading off to his room. Sure enough, the shorts were waiting for him on the bed as soon as he arrived, alongside some basic fishing gear. The boy sighed and began to change for the dreary day ahead of him.

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He had to admit, it was a little funny seeing someone so uptight and insistent on their reputation wear a fishing vest and hat over a posh suit. The way the garments clashed with each other was more than enough to get Timmy to smile, even if it was for a moment. It's hard to find amusement while stuck on a boat in the middle of nowhere.

Their poles rested against the boat's interior, the bait somewhere deep in the clear waters. While he wasn't so sure about his new guardian, Timmy had plenty of experience with fishing, whether that be with his incompetent father, tightknit Squirrelly Scouts troop, or his fairy godparents.

They often disguised themselves as his pet fish.

Timmy's smile faded as he looked across the pond. Maybe if he looked hard enough, he could find a rescue boat to take him away from everything. At least this time, he'd enjoy being away from what was now considered his home.

Granted, if he went to his true home, it wouldn't be a return to form. Everyone on Earth who ever knew him had their memories either erased or heavily altered when it came to Timmy and his existence. If he decided to show up to his old school unprompted, things might go downhill for him quickly.

Heck, by the time he'd be able to escape, his old friends could be adults by then. Maybe they would go on to have successful careers and kids of their own.

Or, perhaps, they'd be six feet under.

Timmy sighed and rested his right cheek underneath his hand. Carefully adjusting himself, he propped up his right arm against the edge of the boat and continued to stare off across the pond.

His fairies were his biggest concern, though. It didn't help that his caretakers heavily resembled them, going so far as to sharing a few minor traits as well. Even if it wasn't intentional, it only made Timmy feel worse. He didn't know how quickly fairy babies matured, so the boy had no way of knowing how his former godbrother was coming along. Did he even remember Timmy?

Did anyone from his old life, if they could remember, even miss him?

Then Timmy heard a sigh and he turned his head to the left. He blinked in surprise to find Anti-Cosmo striking the exact same pose as Timmy had before.

"Uh," Timmy said. "You good?" Not that he cared that much, but the anti-fairy seemed as earnest as the boy was.

"Oh." Anti-Cosmo retracted his arm from the boat's ledge. "Must have been lost in thought." The two sat in an awkward silence.

Timmy looked at him. "Why did you take me out here?"

The creature crossed his arms. "Contract."

"Okay, lemme rephrase that: why did you put it in the contract?" Timmy asked.

"Isn't that what fathers do? Take their sons out to fish?" he asked. "It's supposed to be a moment of bonding."

"Hardly! All you do is just stare at the water for hours on end until..." Timmy's voice trailed off. "It's not like we have anything to bond over, anyway."

Anti-Cosmo glanced back at the water. "I think we are both unenthusiastic about fishing. That's a start."

Timmy nodded. "Fair enough. But that's just one thing. You didn't really expect me to walk up to your castle and be hyped up about being isolated for all eternity, right?"

"Isolated?" Anti-Cosmo echoed, then laughed. "That was your doing! You take advantage of any opportunity to be alone in your room."

"It's not my room. It's a room that I got put in because I lost to a stupid bet in a stupid fight over stupid slices of pizza!"

"A bet you propositioned, Timothy," Anti-Cosmo pointed out. His face contorted into a dark smirk. "And you accepted my little wager."

"Yeah, but I didn't think..." Timmy began, his voice cracking. "Why me? Why did you want me?"

The smug grin faded as the anti-fairy watched Timmy try to resist breaking down into tears. He sighed. "Two reasons, the first being power. You're a little celebrity among magic folk, you know."

Timmy couldn't deny that. From fairies to anti-fairies, pixies to genies, and everything in between, he was pretty infamous in one way or another.

"By having you, it cements us as superiors. We finally beat centuries of unequal praise and attention just by having you around. Not to mention how it's helped our tourism industry."

"The what?"

Anti-Cosmo shook his head. "Never mind."

Turner sniffled as he wiped his eyes with the front of his wrist. "And the other reason?"

"Jealousy."

The boy looked at him in confusion. "Wait, huh?"

"I may not know you as well as they do, Timothy, but I envied your little family. You were blessed with fairies who were truly able to love and help you. They were blessed with a beaver boy who's smarter than he seems." He loosened his vest and managed to pull up his waistcoat to reveal a familiar, star-shaped scar on his belly. "I'm not sure how much of his influence is in here, but I can't help but truly feel the same way."

Timmy stared at the scar. He remembered a few remarks here and there from the past where the anti-fairies expressed a desire for godkids of their own. Even with the gland transplant in mind, Timmy knew that Anti-Cosmo was being somewhat earnest. And even then, had it not been for Timmy's efforts, Anti-Cosmo wouldn't have had that surgery to begin with.

The anti-fairy began to put the vest back on. "Well, I suppose some of that is on myself. My recklessness didn't factor in ruling an entire race and being a family man, after all. I shouldn't have treated you the way I have for the past few months. I can imagine it didn't help things."

Timmy sighed. "I'm sorry, too. I know it's my fault, including the isolation thing. I guess we both gotta try to make this work, right?"

Anti-Cosmo smiled in a genuine manner. "We have a whole eternity to."

The two nodded in unison and reeled in their poles. "We're definitely not gonna do this again," Timmy affirmed.

"Right. I can't imagine how anyone could like this sort of thing," Anti-Cosmo scoffed. He looked at Timmy. "Once we get to shore, wait in the jet."

"Why?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be as satisfying."

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Pink hat. Pink shirt. Normal pants. And no puffy vest in sight. He was all set to go. Timmy anxiously knocked on the door in front of him and waited.

The door opened. "If this is another traveling salesman conveniently hired by Juandissimo Magnifico, tell him-" the woman began, then stopped.

"Anti-Cosmo gave me a curfew for 6 PM, so I-"

She hugged Timmy tightly. "Cosmo! Poof! He's home!" The boy suddenly felt two other pairs of arms hug him. Granted, one was much smaller than the others, but it was good enough for him.

Eventually, the three fairies let go so Timmy could have a good look at them. Poof looked as though he had barely aged an hour. Wanda was nothing but overjoyed at the sight of the boy. And as for Cosmo, he was holding back tears. Timmy looked at his godfather. "It's okay, Cosmo. We're all okay." The four hugged again.

A navy blue bird perched itself nearby the Fairywinkle-Cosma household and watched as the fairies brought Timmy inside the house. He smiled to himself.

Chapter Text

Timmy sighed. "I'm sorry, too. I know it's my fault, including the isolation thing. I guess we both gotta try to make this work, right?"

Anti-Cosmo smiled in a genuine manner. "We have a whole eternity to."

The two nodded in unison and reeled in their poles. "We're definitely not gonna do this again," Timmy affirmed.

"Right. I can't imagine how anyone could like this sort of thing," Anti-Cosmo scoffed. As the two made their way to shore, Timmy glanced back at the lake one last time. If the doppelganger really meant what he had said, then perhaps things could only get better from here. At least, he hoped that they would.

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The first thing Timmy realized when they got back was that it was a few minutes past 6:00 PM. They always had dinner at 6.

“Jeez, we were out for that long?” Timmy asked in disbelief as he stared at the grandfather clock.

“Fantastic. So it’s both boring and time consuming,” Anti-Cosmo quipped. “Wait in the dining room, Timothy. I’ll be quick as a fox.” He “anti-poof!”-ed away, leaving Timmy by himself. The boy walked across the foyer and eventually reached the dining room, wherein Anti-Wanda and Foop were waiting anxiously.

Timmy waved at them. “Were you guys waiting here the whole time?”

“Why wouldn’t we be a-waitin’?” Anti-Wanda replied earnestly.

The boy nodded as he sat in his chair. “Fair enough.”

Suddenly, Anti-Cosmo appeared with several large, floating takeout bags. “I’ve made us something to eat,” he said sarcastically as the bags floated onto the table. Timmy couldn’t even remember the last time he had fast food.

Anti-Wanda gasped. “Burger World! They got themselves the best dang burgers around!” She practically tore into the entirety of what was distributed to her, bag and all. “And the bestest plastic, too!”

Foop pulled out a Poof plush from his bag. “And the vilest of toys from the kiddie meal.” He pulled out his bottle and zapped the toy, eviscerating it.

Timmy pretended that he didn’t see that and ate the burger he was given. He had to admit, it was better than most of the hamburgers he had eaten on Earth. Turner then glanced at Anti-Cosmo, who seemed much more relaxed than during most other meals. After all, you didn’t need to worry about tarnishing platinum-plated silverware if you didn’t need them to begin with. The two made eye contact and gave each other a small smile.

Timmy Turner was going to be okay.

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But his fairy godparents didn’t know if that was the case. Anything could happen in two months. And for them, their two months were rather depressing. Both Cosmo and Wanda retired from being fairy godparents and permanently moved back to Fairy World, alongside their infant son Poof. While they now had plenty of time to raise him among their kind, they were perfectly fine with raising Timmy alongside him.

Wanda glanced over at her husband as he was drying their dishes. Thankfully, by this point his head was back on his body, but it hung low and quiet. Earlier that day, they, alongside Jorgen Von Strangle, had thoroughly removed any remnants of Timmy’s life on Earth that they had missed the last time they had done so. It wasn’t much, but at least there wasn’t an ongoing search case for a boy who didn’t exist.

She hugged his side. In response, he turned so that they could properly hold onto each other. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into his wife’s shoulder. All she could do was hold him tighter.