Author's notes: So I thought about it, and I decided to extend this one more chapter to show Wanda's emotions… I don't think that the story is complete with out those details, and it was bugging me (and a few of my reviewers).

So here is Part Two.

Also, this chapter is in Wanda's POV.

I can't take this. Cosmo's gone, and if something doesn't change, Timmy will be too.

It's my fault, I know it. Timmy wouldn't have gotten so mature so damn fast if it weren't for me.

I already lost Cosmo, and now Timmy's dying because I was so emotionally demanding of him.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Timmy was shocked by Cosmo's death. No one thought that anyone so close to us would be capable of suicide. Timmy was just trying to be a kid- he was supposed to indulge in Cosmo's liveliness and humor. That was the only side he knew of Cosmo, and the only side he wanted to see.

But he didn't see- or didn't want to see- that Cosmo was changing. Changing from the idiotic, crazy fairy I married to a sullen, sharp creature that no one understood. I loved him. I still do.

Cosmo treated me like shit- I'll admit it. I was getting tired of him stepping all over me. I was his wife, not his scapegoat. I was a headstrong woman, and his insults were unjust and served as emotional blows to my heart.

But I loved him. I always will.

Then… That night- that terrible night- was the last time I saw my husband alive.

I honestly forget what the insult was that last time, but it was probably the worst of them all.

Timmy was at a school dance, no doubt trying to get Trixie to dance with him, avoiding Tootie's gaze, and fooling around with his friends. A typical middle school dance for our godchild. He gave us the night off, hoping that we would relax.

As if that actually happened.

I put on a happy face when he left. "Goodbye, Sport- tell us all about it when you come back."

He left his house with that bucktoothed grin on his face. How I wish I could see that grin one more time…

I stayed by myself that night. I didn't know, and didn't care what Cosmo was doing.

Until an hour before Timmy was supposed to come home. Then I cared, because Cosmo found me.

He took me in his arms and started kissing me. He kissed my lips, my face, my eyes- anywhere he could. "I love you… I love you…" he muttered over and over.

I pulled away and looked into his emerald eyes.

"I… I'm sorry Wanda."

An apology? That was rare. And typically Cosmo didn't kiss me when he apologized.

I let him kiss me. Oh, how I loved him… I loved this passionate Cosmo as much as I hated the insulting one.

After several minutes, he pulled away. "Hey, baby," he whispered. Sweat was dripping down his face, as was mine. "I've got to do something."

Wondering what it was, I reluctantly let him go. He floated away.

I probably would have waited all night. I was so happy to have back what I though might have been the old Cosmo that time didn't seem to matter.

I waited for my husband to return.

And waited.

And waited.

But he never came back.

Timmy found him. I don't think I'll ever forget the look on his face when he told me that Cosmo was dead; a gaunt, mature expression that I never expected to see on Timmy's face. In a shaky yet determined voice, he broke the news.

My husband had committed suicide.

My love.

My Soulmate.

My other half.

My… My Cosmo.

Cosmo was dead.

It was just Timmy and I after that. He seemed to grow up in front of me- no longer that spunky, hyperactive little boy I once knew.

Now he was a mature teenage boy, nearing adulthood years ahead of when he should have.

He turned fourteen last week. In the midst of my grief, I didn't remember. Timmy honestly didn't care- he woke up in the middle of the night, holding me close when I cried, just like any other day.

I can't get over Cosmo- I loved him too much. Timmy said nothing, except calming words to silence my tears. If Cosmo miraculously came back from the dead, I think Timmy would have killed him.

This scared him- he blamed himself for Cosmo's death. He didn't talk about it much, but I know what he was thinking. He was fighting- fighting his anger, fighting his regret, just as I am. He wanted to prove to himself that he couldn't kill. He wanted to prove to himself that he was still a good person, and that Cosmo's death hadn't changed this.

Timmy never smiled, at least not since Cosmo died. I didn't really think about it until tonight, when I first saw him unconscious in that stark white hospital bed.

I already lost Cosmo because I was too insulted by average comments that most men spoke about. And now I'm about to lose the only person I have left because I was too engulfed in grief.

Timmy, being the sweet, caring person I keep wanting to tell him that he is, stopped by the mini mart after school today to buy a bar of chocolate for me. Every so often, he does things like this, out of love.

He was paying for the chocolate when the robbers came in. They threatened the clerk, and shot the only customer in the store.


I wondered why he was late, and then I heard the phone ring.

Then I heard Mrs. Turner scream.

I'm in his hospital room now. No one is here, so there is no need to disguise myself. The Turner's are talking to his doctor.

I squeeze his hand. How weak he looks… The bandages on his chest have small spots of blood blossoming out of them. His breathing is labored, despite the tubes in his nose pumping oxygen in him, and the oxygen mask covering his face.

It hits me- he's dying. I can't help him. I look at out the glass window looking out at waiting room, and I see the doctor shake his head.

The monotones coming from the heart monitor are starting to get to me. As each one of Timmy's heartbeats sound, a shiver goes through me. Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?

I wish I could tell him how much I love him, and thank him for all that he's done.

I feel his hand slowly move in mine, and I realize that I have my chance.

"Timmy?" I whisper.

Blue eyes flutter open, and I see pain and weakness reflected back at me. My godson takes a breath of pure oxygen before pulling the oxygen mask down past his chin.

"Hey, Wanda…" he says weakly.

"Hi, Sport… How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine… what about you?"

Here he is, lying in a hospital bed and dying from a bullet wound, and he asks me how I'm feeling.

"I'm scared, Timmy," I say, my voice cracking. "Please don't leave me… Not like…" I couldn't even say my husband's name.

Timmy breathes in the oxygen mask for a moment, and then begins to speak. "Wanda… I'm not afraid of dying. Really. I honestly don't care… Except that I'm leaving you. Wanda, I'm dying, I know it."

He lets his head fall back onto the pillow. He's getting weaker, I can tell.

He's fighting to stay conscious now, his breathing becoming more ragged. "I…love you… Wanda, don't… forget that."

Seeing how close he is to death, I quickly put the oxygen mask over his face. I'm scared; he lost so much blood…

I burst into tears, and hold my dying godson as tight as I can without hurting him. "I love you too, Timmy."

There is no response. I didn't expect one. The heart monitor confirms what I know has happened; Timmy is dead. His body falls limp in my arms.

I'm alone. There's no one to help me with my grief this time.

Maybe that's for the best.

I don't want to remember him as the strong, mature Timmy, but that goofy child with the bucktoothed grin. But as I hold his body close to mine, I know that the bad times will overshadow the good.

Okay, was it bad to extend this? I hope not… please give me your feedback. I loved the response to the first chapter. Keep on reviewing!

-Marty :-D