Faded Fragments
part 29
"Cole!!!" Prue Halliwell's frantic tone stripped him free of the daze he suddenly felt overwhelming him entirely, his eyes clouded with cold, hard disbelief, his body unable to move, unable to breath after he'd witnessed the woman he loved falling to her own death, straight into the arms of the ground below her- her feeble attempts of survival screeching to a quick and deliberate halt. All he could think in that instant, was that it should have been him. He should have been the one lying down there in his own blood, dying for the one person who had truly showed him compassion for his sins. It was the reason he'd come, the reason he'd wanted so badly to put himself in the line of fire for her when and if he had to. She lay so peaceful and still now, and he literally felt his heart eating away at his remaining insides, as he fought to reclaim the control he'd possessed only moments earlier. His hands shook violently at his sides, very nearly making him forget he was once a half demon who hadn't even flinched once at the sight of instant death, his composure having always withstood the impending disasters he'd encountered. He'd become weak, that much he knew. But it was the kind of weak that made him so at the knees and stretched itself to his very core. He liked that feeling and he'd been so damn grateful he'd had her to give it to him. "Cole!!!" Prue very nearly screamed it, that same tone rising in volume to meet the silence that had cleverly woven itself around him, shrouding him from the shock.
"Phoebe." It was a mere whisper, said so slow and precise, and still refusing to comprehend the inevitable.
"Say the spell, say the Goddamn spell!!!" Prue had gathered her sister in her arms, hurriedly reaching down and freeing the object from Phoebe's body, immediately encasing a hand over the wound, placing pressure over the blood that had begun to spread clear across her shirt, soaking it to the bone. Her eyes were brimming with tears, as the drops slid down her cheeks rather freely, her makeup smeared just below her bottom lashes, her petite frame rocking back and forth.
His legs were moving then, his mind unaware of the action, as he fell beside his wife's still form, feeling so entirely helpless that it scared him, a numb hand reaching out to touch the swell of red that had soaked her fabric.
"It's not going to work," Paige Matthews quickly objected, trying hard to keep her voice steady. "I don't even think our powers have any kind of cont-"
"Say it!" Prue demanded.
"Piper's out of it, Phoebe's down- you're about to go with her, and we still need another damned Charmed One, Prue. Trust me when I say it's not going to work."
"You have my condolences," Thomas Rickman assured them, mocking a slight pout with his lips. "But unfortunately her death no longer matters."
"You son of a bitch," Paige hissed, her face filled with pure hatred as she charged him, tears building in the corners of her lids, collecting inside the small crevices, her vision slowly clouding.
"Paige, no!"
She heard Cole's harsh, hoarse voice slap her with tremendous restraint, even as she felt herself falling hard onto her back, a loud crack resounding into the chaos around her, just as she came to the very painful realization that it was the bones that resided in her own neck, the world having dimmed completely around her. She screamed, a hand struggling to touch the paralyzing injury, her eyes shutting themselves tight from the burning that ran the length of her entire body, spreading through every inch of her. Her lids closed themselves as she found herself slowly drifting away, her life being drained from her without any ability to stop it.
"It's all over, isn't it?" Prue whispered, reaching up with a bloody hand to smooth out hair that didn't need any smoothing, spreading the thick substance across her dark brown mane, her eyes now completely void of any feeling. "It's...it's just like before. Only they're the ones to die..."
"Before?" he didn't even register the tone he was projecting to her, didn't even recall gathering his dead wife close to him, his forehead grazing her lifeless one, as he ran a hand over her jawline.
"With Shax," she told him, gasping for air, as the sheer force of the events that had unfolded continued to plague her. "I don't- Cole, I can't do this by myself. I can't. We're not going to make it. We're- there's nothing we can do now."
"So you're going to give up, is that it? You're just going to sit there and say to hell with this, when I know you're just as stubborn and strong as I am?"
"I-"
"It's not you, Prue. You don't just stay down when the times get tough. You fight, Goddammit. You fight and you try and you keep trying."
"My sisters are gone!" she snapped through her tears.
"Yeah, and a lot of good it's doing you just wallowing in your own Goddamn pity!"
"Take that back," she hissed. "Take it back! You're no better than I am, you son of a bitch."
"I'm terribly afraid nothing here can be taken back," Rickman cooed, his voice filled with pleasure, as he took a step toward her, his hand raised, his eyes bathing themselves in a deep, cold blue. "What's done is done, and so shall it be. I'm sure you've heard it just that way. Only- I guess I finally have the guts and glory, wouldn't you say? The infamous Charmed Ones are God's little gifts now, and I'm the one who put them there. All others have failed, where I have succeeded. I imagine I passed with flying colors in the Underworld. Of course, I also hear they're looking for something of new a kind of rule. I happen to think I can provide that."
"Then why don't you go back where you belong, you selfish bastard?"
"Miss Halliwell, do you even realize how much you altered history when they agreed to bring you back? You can't very well continue to live, when your destiny was never meant to be."
"Yeah? And what if I said I no longer believe in destiny?"
"I was a quiet little man in a quiet little town," he reasoned. "I conducted all my...personal activities in private, and I expected my associate to do the same. He was, however, a bit slow as to how I ran things, and for that he suffered dearly. His stupidity gave me purpose to allow amends for my own mistakes."
"So what? It's not like he's still here to tell about it."
"No. He isn't. But I'm a businessman. He was, well, shall we say...inexperienced?"
"Piper!!!" she yelled, ignoring him.
"No, I'm sorry. You see, Piper is still feeling the effects of the torture, and I just don't think she has any life left in her to participate. I'm sure you understand." He grinned wickedly, one foot crossing over the other, neatly propping a hand beneath his elbow. "In fact, I think it would take a miracle to save you now. Unfortunately, it's a miracle you don't have."
"You think you're doing a good thing? You think you're really going to make the world better, when there'll just be more witches out there who-"
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong. Once the rest of them hear of this, they'll abandon their practice out of fear, and come crawling to me on their hands and knees for forgiveness. I'm a compassionate man, Miss Halliwell. I have no regrets."
"That's funny, Tom, because neither do I," Leo Wyatt uttered, as he took the sword he held firmly in his hands to Rickman's neck, watching as the other man's head quickly tore itself away from his body, the remains rolling onto the ground below, coming to a fairly even halt at his feet. The body followed, collapsing beside it in the soft green grass. "After all- what's another battle, when you've already won the war?"
"Oh, God," Prue whispered. "Oh, God, Leo."
"I tried to get here as fast as I could. The Elders couldn't penetrate the spell. I didn't- I couldn't...I'm sorry, I...we needed him vulnerable to cross over to this plane."
"You can still heal Piper," Cole told him, still not completely processing what just happened, his head feeling slightly dizzy.
"Are you-"
"Phoebe and Paige," he added.
"Just heal her, Leo," Prue spoke up, her voice firm and slightly troubled, a hand reaching up to rub her tired eyes.
"Ally?" Cole called out. "Alex?"
"I'm here, Daddy." The voice was so low, he almost didn't hear it. "I'm here."
"Sweetheart-"
"Nothing's real," she whispered. "None of it, Daddy. It's not real here, so it's okay."
"Alexandra-"
"I'm not playing," she assured him. "It isn't. The angels told me."
"Angels?" he whispered back.
"They know we're here, and they're not going to let anything bad happen to Mommy or Aunt Paige." She leaned closer to him, her small face staring at him with a surprising intensity. "I know it."
"If you mean The Elders, honey, I'm afraid they're too late."
"They're not," she protested. "I talked to the angels. Christmas angels."
"Ally, there's no such thing."
"There is too. I saw them. The one with the really long wings told me we could go back. She told me that time doesn't work this way- she said everybody gets another chance."
"We're not everybody, and I'm not...I'm not sure I like you talking this way. It's not rational- you have to accept...sweetheart, look. You...you can't cheat death. I know, believe me."
She took his hand, giving it a firm yank. "I can show you, Daddy."
"I can't."
"Daddy, please?"
"You have to stop living in fantasy," he continued to whisper. "There is nothing I'd like more right now than for your mother to wake up, to...to tell me that everything's going to be all right, but it's not going to happen. It can't happen, Ally. She's gone, and nothing any angel says is going to bring her back."
"That's because it made you lose your faith."
"Your mother is dead- at someone else's hand. I don't think it's a question of faith."
"You're always telling me to accept what I am," the little girl pleaded. "So why can't you accept who you are? You say you do, but I know you don't. You could just a little bit, but it's never all of you."
"I failed," he told her, his voice cracking.
"Nobody fails unless they stop trying, Daddy."
"I was supposed to protect her. I was supposed to make her see that the darkness didn't have to be real if she just trusted me, dammit. I promised her everything, and then I took it away."
"Evil took it away. We both know that."
"It wasn't Rickman," he confessed. "It wasn't just some bastard trying to destroy her line- he only propelled the inevitable. He only showed us the way of the future. This is the way it is. This is the life we live. I know in my heart that I loved her, that I was capable of that love, but being redeemed never means being given a second chance." He was talking more to himself now than to her, a hand traveling through his dark hair, as he struggled to reason with the situation. The skin under his eyes was terribly swollen, and it burned at his touch. "I've lost the first thing that ever made me feel human, and I can't use magic to get it back."
"You don't have to."
"And Paige," he sided. "Paige. God, the only thing I ever did was argue with the woman, and yet I can't even accept that she's-"
"They're calling for you, Daddy."
"Ally, that's not funny anymore."
"Why won't you answer them? They can help her."
"Your mother is dead!" he snapped.
"And it's not your fault!" she yelled back, a small tear trickling down her cheek. "Daddy, you just keep blaming yourself and you don't have to."
"Then who should I blame, Ally? Who should I give the credit to? Because I'll be damned if-"
"We'll be okay," Prue offered, slowly coming up behind him. "I- we'll get through this. If anything, it'll make us better for it. And you know, I have to believe that now, because if I don't, it's just going to make me miss them more."
"It's broken," he told her. "You aren't a Charmed One anymore. That's not-"
"It's enough," she pressed. "They died heroes, Cole. That says a lot."
"It doesn't say anything, because I never got to say goodbye. I'd give my life for hers in a heartbeat. For Christ’s sake," he breathed, "I don't even deserve to be here."
"You're fooling yourself now if you think we're ever going to give up helping innocents. Rickman didn't change that. It's still our job, and it's your job now, too. You need to see that."
"You know what, Prue? Why don't we just cut this higher wisdom crap all to hell, all right? You keep drilling it into my Goddamn head and I think I've just about had enough of it."
"If you think you owe this to yourself, you're wrong."
"Am I? Am I really?"
"He does, because he wanted to go too," Alex commented, giving a hopeful glance to Cole.
"Ally-"
"You did," she insisted.
"Prue, could you please take her? I have to...I just have to- I need a few minutes alone, all right? I just...if we're going to get out of here, we need to find another way."
"I'll talk to Leo," she said softly. "Maybe The Elders already have that figured out by now. C'mon, sweetheart." Forcing a light smile between her tears, she calmly held out a hand to her niece, urging her forward. "Alex?"
The small child stubbornly shook her head, her tiny fingers placing themselves on her hips. "He doesn't see and he needs to see."
"I know this is hard, honey, but we'll get past it. You have so many wonderful memories of your mom and your Aunt Paige, and they're always going to be with you. You just have to remember that."
"Daddy doesn't think so."
"Sure he does." Prue carefully knelt down besides her tiny form, placing a reassuring hand upon her shoulder, her eyes training themselves on her profile, her mouth set in a tight line. "Families lose each other everyday. The important is that you believe your mom and your aunt have gone to a better place. You mom'll have a lot of fun there- she'll be happy. It's a very happy place and people get along so well up there. She'll see your grams and your great-grams, too. It doesn't mean she can't still look down on you from time to time to see what you're doing. Knowing that you...have strength to make it through this, is all she needs- it's...it's all she needs to know." She gently smoothed out a strand of brown hair on the young girl's head, offering a small sigh. "Your father loves you and I love you, and so do your Uncle Leo and Aunt Piper. You're never going to be-"
"But the angels..."
"It's okay to believe in them. I know your dad finds it real hard right now, but you can think whatever you want to think, and nobody can stop you."
"Coleridge Turner. Why, I'm certain the pleasure is all mine."
Cole immediately turned at the sound of the voice, detecting the strangely familiar tone of it, as he strained his blues in its direction. A light smile finally drifted over his features without the slightest hesitation. The figure curiously stepped forward, its hands extended in greeting, as it rocked back upon the balls of its feet. The man wore a long white robe, the edges bathed in a gold hue, a pair of sandals resting comfortably upon his feet. His hair was a light shade of blonde, very nearly white, his eyes a deep set green. "It's time now, isn't it?" he stated quietly, wincing rather briefly, as he held out his hands. "They know."
"Your betrayal is nothing compared to how your future could be," the young man added, nodding. "You've seen you have a choice."
"A choice?" he nearly laughed. "I don't think the Underworld gives you a choice. But I'm ready just the same." He tilted his head. "The Elders sent you, didn't they? Yeah, see, I figured they'd get around to it sooner or later. Leo was more or less a dead giveaway. You guys really should try to be less conspicuous."
"I'm afraid we misunderstand each other."
"Do we?"
"I'm giving you a choice, Mr. Turner."
"Yeah, I got that part. What I'm not getting, is why."
"We've been watching you for quite some time."
"What the hell am I, Ebenezer in need of a lesson? Where's little Timmy?"
"Not necessarily you. Unfortunately, as the case was, you had to suffer another man's misfortunes."
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"You have a choice. You can go back to the way things were, prior to your encountering Thomas Rickman, or you can proceed on course as things are, and how you believe they were meant to be. The first would give you and your wife a full recollection of the day's events, but it would put you back seven days in time." The man smiled, gesturing his hand toward him. "The last...leads you right back here. You return to your plane of existence and you raise your daughter without a mother."
"What? There's no door number three?"
"I'd advise you to choose wisely. This isn't an option that comes along every day. In fact, they were almost against lending out a hand to you, considering all of your previous...indiscretions. It's not something we allow a great number of innocents to participate in. But we've seen your grief, your...shall we say, tremendous will toward living your life without malice. We wish to help you to continue as you are, if you'll let us."
"If you go back seven days, I'm still stuck with two men who obviously want nothing more than to kill me and are plotting to take over the world, not to mention a rather cranky third who wants to wipe out The Charmed Ones. That doesn't exactly leave me in a bargaining mood."
"They will be of no consequence to you. Their souls have already been collected for redemption."
"You mean hell."
He merely grinned. "Something like that."
"And I'll have her back? I'll have my wife?"
"You have our word. Your pain has already saved her. The tears you've cried have shown you a world without love, a world without hope, and I'm not exactly sure it's one you'd enjoy living in. You feel too much now."
"What about Belthazor?"
"What about him?" he echoed. "He has nothing to do with who you are now, does he? Surely you've come to realize that when you didn't morph at the drop of a hat here. He's no longer welcome inside you and hasn't been for some time. They tricked you into believing you needed him. You don't. You never have."
"I don't like to be double-crossed, or even crossed at all...just so we're clear. In other words, it's something I kind of frown upon."
"You've been around long enough to know when you've been played," the man offered a slight chuckle, his robe swaying slightly in the breeze. "The name's Byron, by the way. I guess you could call me your...guardian angel- although, these days the term really doesn't stick- or so I've heard."
"Angels..."
"There are more of them, Daddy," Alex volunteered. "See? Told you we'd see them again."
"She's right. There are more of us than you think. We're not all we're cracked up to be in the books, but we're there. The Halliwell line is not destined to be torn, Mr. Turner, and we've reached this agreement as such with The Elders. We don't normally form one quite so quickly, much less at all, but I felt it warranted some attention."
"Yeah, and you do know I was once The Source of all evil, don't you? I mean, that's still pretty big on my resume these days. Keeps out the uninvited visitors, too."
"A period of your life that is best left buried," Byron argued.
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
"I'm going to assume you wish to take it?"
"She'll still remember? I mean...all of it. Our time spent together here..."
"Yes. Quite vividly, I'd imagine, as you've already a...surprise on the way. One I don't think either of you saw coming."
"Surprise," he repeated, raising a brow in confusion.
"I can't reveal everything," he admitted, shrugging. "But you'll see in time."
"What about Prue?" Cole asked, throwing a short glance over at the witch who still stood holding his daughter, watching him with a strange curiosity.
"Miss Halliwell will regain the same thoughts and memories you will, as will your little girl."
"But if I decide to keep things the way they are...I can still return? It would keep my wife out of harm's way, because she'd no longer be here."
"Yes, although I'm afraid the balance would suffer dearly."
"I just don't- I can't risk losing her again."
"Wasn't it you who wanted to take this on?" Byron challenged. "This...life free of the evil you spent your previous existence meddling with under The Source? You always knew the risks would be there when you became involved with a witch. Yet you stayed and you established a new career for yourself...a family."
"Do it."
"Mr. Turner-"
"I want the world back the way it was," he whispered. "Before they cast that spell. I just want it all back."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Byron murmured. "People often take the smallest things for granted, without ever fully realizing it. Don't let that life pass you by, Mr. Turner. Every day is a blessing."
"So you're really doing this all for me?"
"Yes. Although...sometimes I wonder why such a foolish man deserves it." He chuckled, calmly extending his hand. "Perhaps we'll meet again- when you've earned your wings."
"Whatever that means," Cole mumbled to himself.
The ground was cold and wet when he awoke moments later, his tattered gray sweater bathed in the small flecks of snow that drifted down from the night sky, drops slowly caressing his cheeks and lips, as the white matter continued to melt into droplets of water. His blue eyes grazed his surroundings with a renewed interest, as he slowly lifted himself to his feet, noting the house behind him. It was his own, just as he'd remembered it. And the little girl who now stood looking out at him through the large window, had his smile, as she gently placed a hand to the glass, her small fingers creating the tiniest of prints against the fog that had clouded it. Phoebe approached her from behind, her long brown hair piled loosely about her head, a few strands hanging around either side of her face. He ran a shaky hand across the fabric of his jeans, taking a deep breath, and letting it out, his body entirely exhausted and in need of a nice warm bed, as he threw her a rather large smile. He'd come home after witnessing the worst possible scenario he'd ever gotten himself into, and yet he relished the fact that he lived the life he did, truly realizing just who the man was that he'd become, and the man he would continue to become, no matter what befell him. He was no longer the monster that gnawed away at his entire being, urging him to be something he hadn't been in years. He was human and he knew what love was, and how he'd fought harder than he ever had to get it back. It was so precious and it could never randomly just be tossed aside.
Turner Residence, a few days later "My...holiday gift to you," Paige Matthews announced, "although, I probably didn't mention the part where you've gotta put on all the trimmings."
"Picking up the phone and volunteering yourself as a favor to the men involved, doesn't quite cut it."
"So you and Leo had to put in a little macho man G.I. Joe power. Big deal. You now know that I don't completely hate your guts."
"Pick up a brush and start painting," he offered, his grin only growing wider. "Then we'll sit down and discuss how much you hate them."
"But this means less of a hassle in the morning," she protested. "Don't you get it? We'll have two bathrooms now, and now I'm not entirely sure I should still move out."
He gently dipped the brush he held in the can of light blue paint that sat comfortably on a nearby ladder, curiously tilting his head at her. "Especially now, when we have so much more in common."
She calmly rolled up the legs of her dark overalls, taking the time to shoot him a quick glare, as she mockingly batted her eyelashes at him. "Oh, whatever could it be?"
"You're never truly a member of the Halliwell household until you've died at least once," he commented briefly, chuckling in spite of himself.
"Funny."
"Yeah, well, it couldn't be closer to the truth."
"So you and this Byron guy are big pals now?" she questioned, lightly scrunching up her nose.
"Something like that, although he's not exactly big on the whole bar scene," he deadpanned.
"Well, yeah. I mean, when have you ever seen a drunk angel?"
"Does Leo count?" he added, shrugging.
"Speaking of Leo, he really came through and saved our asses. I mean we were literally powerless against that Rickman bastard. He seemed to feed on the tragedies of the world, if that makes any sense. Like...weakening people with grief. Overwhelming them or some crap. The icicles were probably just a perk. He liked playing mind games."
"Yeah, and he won't be bothering anyone anytime soon," he clarified. "So stop worrying. "
She considered a moment, as she took a brush of her own, sneaking a quick glance at him, before she placed the object into her own can of paint. "Doesn't mean some new kind of evil won't rear its ugly head."
"Are you kidding? Those guys were big news."
"They were also stupid to think they could mess with us."
"We lost, Paige."
"Yeah. Yeah, I know we did, but we did it with such...dignity, you know? They're just a bunch of sorry ass wannabes."
"So whose idea was it to go light blue?"
"Mmm, Phoebe's, I think. But you know, you can always return the favor by painting your bedroom orange or something."
"Hey, I sleep there, too."
"Precisely my point."
"All right. Question."
"Shoot."
"Why did you go up against him all by yourself? You had every reason not to, and yet you risked your life for-"
"I had to," she told him, completely serious now, her eyes skimming his. "I mean, my sister was dead, another was dying, and you or Prue were probably going to be next. I didn't even think about the consequences. Just knowing I could have saved you...it made a hell of a lot of difference, you know? I felt like somebody about to do something really brave or really stupid. It kind of cancelled itself out."
"I had a big plan I had yet to put into action," he objected.
"Yeah. Pummel him to death, right? Oh, that would have went over real well."
"The important thing was, it was a plan. I didn't say it was a good plan. "
"You got Phoebe back, didn't you?"
"But at what cost?" he shot back.
"You could have lost her for good, Cole."
"I didn't though, did I?"
"Prue says you were almost considering it, because you still feared for her life if Byron brought her back."
"Prue's wrong," he stated, his gaze shifting itself to the light blue, examining the spot he'd coated just moments ago, his generous lips forming a slight frown.
"I would have done the same thing, " she managed then, shooting him a small smile. "It's a tough place to be in. I mean-"
"Daddy!!! Daddy!!! Guess who's here?"
Cole brightened a bit at the sound of his little girl's voice, glancing behind him as she quickly raced into the empty room, her brown hair bouncing around her head. "You'll never guess who," she told him, quietly giggling to herself.
"Mmm..." He placed a finger on the right side of his face, calmly tapping it, as he pretended to be deep in thought. "Is it Melinda?"
"Nope."
"Uncle Leo?"
"Nope."
"Aunt Piper?"
"Nope."
"Well, then. I give up. Who could possibly be making a grand entran-"
"Hey, Mr. Turner. How's it going? You know, you could seriously hire someone to get this done in a pinch. It's really not all that hard. It probably wouldn't even be that much...I mean, my parents could get you a great estimate. In fact-"
"How've you been, Catrina?"
Catrina Jenkins smiled, hands clasped behind her back, her eyes still roaming the room. "Pretty good since that whole Egypt thing."
He shut his lids, turning back to the wall. "Glad to hear it."
"My parents said I could come for Christmas dinner."
"Did they now?"
"Yeah. Plus, I was thinking I could help Mrs. Turner master my dad's favorite side dish."
"And I think I'm getting a migraine. Ally, where's your mom?"
"In the bathroom downstairs. She's taking some kind of test," Alexandra Turner proclaimed, carefully nodding.
"Test?" he inquired, shaking his head.
"Yeah, Daddy. She told me go play with Catrina, and that she wouldn't be long. She said she thought something and wanted to see if she was right."
Catrina knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "What kind of test do you take in a bathroom?"
"Listen, you know what? I'm going to- I'm going to be right back, all right? Don't you guys go anywhere, and I will be...right back up to get you some brushes of your very own. It'll be a lot of fun, you'll see."
"The joy," Catrina mumbled, slowly rolling her eyes. "Did he become this crazy before or after Egypt?"
"I'm not sure," Alex told her friend. "But something's up."
"Yeah," Paige quipped. "He doesn't want to finish this place, so he's taken the liberty of dumping it all on us. Welcome to the world we actually live in again."
"I'm not even going to ask," Cole Turner countered, gently rolling his eyes, as he adjusted the white bandana on top of his head, his scruffy visage revealing an amused smile, as his bare feet padded across the equally bare floor, his tall frame clothed in a matching white t-shirt and a pair of old blue jeans with a few minor holes etched out in them.