Faded Fragments
part 3
"Ready to do a little shopping?!" Cole Turner beckoned to the front entryway, as he heard the front door slam, making his way carefully down the stairs with two tubes of wrapping paper, and a bag of bows. He halted abruptly as the torn features of his wife greeted him, his daughter breaking out of her grasp, as Phoebe nervously let an empty hand rest at her side in a controlled fist, her state a being a wild mix of emotions, as her brown eyes bore hesitantly into his blues. He sensed the pain right away. She didn't have to say a word. He never had to think twice to know when something was pulling at her heart strings or threatening to destroy that composure that almost always stood strong, even in the most difficult of times for them. His face drew itself into a deep concentration, as he lay the items on the last step, his crisp white socks treading over the wooden floor, as he approached her, his own heart breaking for her, as he gently tilted her chin up to completely face him. "What's wrong? What is it?"
She didn't cry. Only the anger seemed to build itself in height, as she gently gritted her teeth together. "Your guys decided to pay us a little visit at the cemetery today," she offered, her eyes hardening as she spoke.
"Guys...." he murmured. "What are you talking about?"
"Kellerman," she stated bluntly, her mouth situating itself in a tight line. "Seems our lawyers are already on to you. More than any of us knew."
"Kellerman was there, in plain sight? He just showed up in broad daylight like it was-"
"Just a little friendly encounter," she surmised, rolling her eyes out of sheer amusement. "Oh, yeah, Cole. They're onto you alright, and for your information, they're not vampires. They do come out during the day."
"Did he threaten you?"
"Cole-"
"He said you had business he had to finish with you, Daddy," Alex volunteered, her face rather pale, as she looked up at him rather curiously.
"Did he try anything?" he asked her again, his voice firm, his eyes briefly lingering on his daughter, as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Does it matter?" Phoebe countered. "Does it really matter, Cole, when he could try it at any time, no questions asked? Would it make us even the slightest bit safer?"
"Look, I just want to get the facts straight, before I-"
"Can I see you alone a minute?" she returned, her hand already taking a rather rough grasp upon his arm, as she dragged him into the kitchen, randomly releasing him behind the swinging door she kicked closed, leaving a rather baffled Alex in the foyer, her green eyes looking helplessly after her parents, as she uttered a low sigh in her throat.
"Phoebe, what the hell-"
"Do you have any idea what he did to me back there? Any at all? He told me right to my face that he wants to take you away from me, and I couldn't even move a muscle. It's like I was frozen in place, Cole. I was frozen, and I couldn't move, and I don't think I could've even lifted a finger to protect Alex from him, had he tried to harm her."
"Is that why she's not in school now?" he asked her softly, his voice in sharp contrast to her tone, raising a perplexed eyebrow in her direction, as he lazily laid a hand against the countertop, leaning his well built frame into it with little ease.
"I don't care if those guys are coming to speak to her class- I am not going to have her under their influence! We don't even know what they can do...what their capabilities are. This could-"
He held up a hand, immediately silencing her, his expression growing completely serious. "Actually we do. As a matter of fact, Paige is doing a little digging as we speak."
"Why? What did you do? You can't just send her off without any- you should have seen him, Cole." She took a deep breath, tried hard to steady herself. "Dammit. I should have done something."
"And what could you have done?" he asked her, crossing his arms over his chest yet again. "If you would have tried to go up against him, you probably wouldn't even be here right now."
"Cole..."
"Just for the record, I'm stepping up the time table, and I'm going to pay our impatient friends a little visit tonight. Seeing as the feeling appears to be mutually coated with hatred on both sides, I think it's only fair."
"Are you crazy?"
"Do you really think I'm okay with this? That I'm thrilled more evil's on to us, and that they just conveniently happen to be connected to our former nemesis?" He studied her a moment. "For God's sake, even after we heard Kellerman and Rickman were onto us, we still celebrated like there was no tomrrow, because we wanted that happiness, Phoebe. We didn't even know their names, but we thought we deserved it."
"Maybe we don't," she whispered. "Maybe we never will."
"Don't say that."
"Well, it's true, Cole, isn't it? Every bit of it- we can't go wrong. They'll find us, they'll use the good to their advantage again, and maybe...maybe they'll even succeed this time."
"Listen to yourself."
"I am. Think about it. They're not fooling around like the others have. They've already made a move, and it's up to us to-"
"And what haven't demons already done to us? What haven't they tried and tried to take that we haven't had a solution for?"
"How far back should I go?"
"If you're still blaming me inside for what happened with The Source, you're way out of your league on this one."
She studied him, anger flowing through her face full force, as she took a step closer, her nerves still very much on edge. "Is that what this is about? Playing the courageous saint, because you can? It's not about who comes out as the bigger hero in this, Cole. Evil takes a foothold, and we're through. You can't take any bets, and you can't always pretend or surmise that you'll know what'll happen."
"They work from the inside," he tossed out, turning his back to her, as he clasped his hands together thoughtfully. "I should know. I used to be one of them."
"You worked for Kellerman and-"
"Their technique," he cut her off. "It's not new. Come to think of it, I'm sure the demons of the Old World passed it on to those of my generation when the time was right." He paused a moment, his blues zeroing in on her eyes, catching her offguard, as she took a single step back. "It's like I said before. You're trained. Only....in this instance, you're trained to target the soul like a piece of property. You're trained to take it and size it up, and figure how much grief it'll be worth in the end. Then...you plot your course of action, and you take it. There's no holding back, and you sure as hell don't mess up and ask them for a second chance. No, see, you're too good. You have the taste already, and it takes its time to develop, but eventually it consumes you. Now...the one thing that's strong enough to penetrate it, is love. Pure and undying emotion for something you hold dear to you. Because they'll work at nothing to break you down, to make it feel like you haven't got a prayer to save yourself with. At first, you think you matter, but give it a few weeks, and you're just as mindnumbing as they want you to be."
"They trained Celia," she murmured. "They made her, didn't they?"
He shook his head. "I don't know."
"So it's like they control-"
"Not control in this case. Initiation. They're the ones who are going through with an agenda in their heads, and they don't take anything from anybody."
"So the Underworld could just fear these guys?"
He laughed softly. "If The Source were still alive, he'd have taken Kellerman and Rickman down not long after he laid eyes on them. They would have been nothing more than a meal to him."
"Why? What for? They could help him."
"They'd eventually betray him," Cole added, shrugging. "It's a game we demons like to play."
She arched an eyebrow. "You demons?"
"Former," he corrected, catching himself. "Sorry, old habits..."
"Die hard," Phoebe finished quietly. "And just for the record, I didn't ask you to get inside their heads. I know it's not who you are anymore, and I'd never ask you to do that, Cole. Not me, not even for our daughter's sake. You can't still think that for one second I'd be okay with that."
"You wanted the basic gist of who you're dealing with, didn't you?"
"I thought we were leaving that up to Paige."
He frowned. "They're already promoting themselves like mad on the damn television. Oh, and in the midst of that, Prue also kindly suggested I go and buy a razor earlier." He placed a fist in front of him, considered it a moment, as he just as quickly let it rest at his side again. "She just loves pushing my patience."
"And it's only because you let her."
"Yes, and under normal circumstances, had I still been after all of you, demanding your heads, I probably would've given my appearance a second thought."
"Naturally," she drawled. "Especially since Belthazor wasn't lying dormant back then."
He sighed, placing a tightly closed fist down upon the countertop. "Maybe if I still had Belthazor inside of me, I could take these guys, no sweat."
"Let's just see what they decide to turn into first," she reminded him.
"So what did he say?"
"Kellerman?"
"Yeah."
"Well, the short version would be that he thinks I'm a nasty little witch who weakened you. But it wasn't just what he said, it was-"
"The way he said it." He nodded. "You were mentioning that before. I guess he's going to hope it sinks in, while he and his little minions laugh about it over a late night cup of coffee."
"I think Alex was too afraid to admit that he creeped her out. I mean, she was just looking forward to a day to pay her respects, and that's already gone for us now. I can't-"
"Phoebe, she'll get over it. She's tough. You know that."
"Yeah, and I guess I really don't know her like you do," she remarked softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
He finally brought her close to him, placing a small kiss atop her head, as he surprisingly gathered her into a hug, his fingers gingerly intertwined with her dark hair. They lingered like that a moment, savoring each other for all it was worth, his eyes shutting tightly, as he rested his chin above her. "Remember when I told you...after I gave you that ring-"
"Cole, don't."
"I said that no matter what happened-"
"You'd always love me," she returned, her profile threatening not to break, as she could feel a single tear fighting its way down her cheek. "I think it'd be better for both of us, if you just put that in the past and leave it there."
"Phoebe, I'm not going to become The Source again."
"And that's not what bothers me," she whispered.
"What-"
"It's knowing that you weren't there for me today. Knowing that you were somewhere, but you weren't there. How much longer do they have to catch us like this...while we're offguard? Because truthfully? Sometimes being in the position I am-"
"But you're strong. If anything, you've overcome more than I could do in a lifetime."
"Just because you refined yourself, doesn't mean your share isn't nearly as-"
"And we've been through this. I'm content just knowing I've got a beautiful woman, who just happens to be a beautiful witch....to come home to each day. Not to mention the cutest, most outspoken daughter a man could ask for. I don't know where I'd be without you."
"And you can't forget the twins," she mused. "They're already looking up to their father."
"Yes, and picking up my bad habits along the way, you told me."
"Kellerman won't win," she sided carefully. "We may be at our wit's end with him, but he can't win, Cole. We won't let him."
"No!" a voice called out, as a figure breezed into the kitchen, holding a stack of papers in her hand. "We won't. Because I....have the greatest boyfriend in the world right now!"
"Finally pull you into the demonic way of life, did he?" Cole quipped, eyeing up Paige Matthews with the faintest hint of amusement, as she slapped the pile down onto the table.
She glared at him, a hand positioned lightly upon her hip. "No. But...thanks for asking. You're always so thoughtful, Cole."
"Well, I try."
"Run into any ass kicking lately?" she offered, raising her eyebrows.
He chuckled briefly, running a hand along his stubble. "As a matter of fact, Phoebe did."
"Does Nick have any-" Phoebe started.
"Profiles, mostly....employee profiles," she confirmed. "Let's just say he really didn't go out of his way either. Men who get booted never take it with a grain of salt."
"So what'd he take it with?" Cole deadpanned.
"We helped him," she added, ignoring him.
"We?" he returned, confused.
"Me," another voice echoed at the doorway, as Piper Halliwell went through it, her hair a mass of tangles, and her eyes still very much filled with sleep, as she prolonged a random yawn. "If this is for real, it had better be good."
"It would be, except profiles aren't going to tell us anything," Cole objected. "They don't state whether or not someone's got a touch of the demonic flu, or even whether or not they've been possessed by it. Once they cover all the ground, you might as well try your odds at thin air."
"Wait. Are you telling me I just pleaded with Nick for nothing?" Paige countered. "I....look, he assured me these would help us. And if anyone knows what help is regarding this firm, Nick would."
"Wrong," Cole conceded. "Nick's been nothing but a pain in the-"
"Cole," Phoebe warned.
"Since he got here. He's done nothing."
"Maybe you're just not seeing it," Paige told him, her eyes coating themselves with a slight dose of annoyance.
"You know, if you spent half the time trying to figure this out on your own, you might just see the error of your ways with him," he pointed out.
"Then I'd say the same goes for you."
"Excuse me?"
"Look, Phoebe's plan didn't go according to schedule, but I'll be damned if we can't use my boyfriend to give us something solid."
"Oh, so you're only tagging him along as a little toy," Cole mused. "Interesting concept, really. This is new for you."
"And I'd say this Kellerman guy is probably falling out of his chair with laughter right now," Piper commented, "considering he knows he's obviously gotten to us like a bunch of immature little children. Well, at least you guys, anyway. Because I think we're going about this-"
"And maybe we should just consult the Book on this one," Paige volunteered, raising a hand.
"I already did," Piper informed her. "I mean...we've got the Power of Four now. It's not like we can do what we used to."
"Like I said, if you want me to separate Prue from the rest of you, I'll be more than happy to oblige."
Phoebe frowned. "She's just as much a part of this as we are, Cole."
"I know. But-"
"Uncle Leo can shapeshift though, can't he?" a tiny voice came from the foyer, pleading to be heard with a deep curiousity. "He can switch himself into other people."
"Ally, didn't we talk about listening in on grownup conversations?"
"I know, Daddy, but I want to help," she softly pleaded, her voice tainted with excitement.
"She wants to help," he repeated, a warm smile finally finding its place in his gorgeous countenance. "And she's got a point. That's my kind of girl."
"And Leo and I refuse to be dragged into this," Piper protested. "I helped, I'm done, I'm going home now. Thank you."
"Oh...no...I actually think he could use a pretty good workout," Cole surmised, easily tossing an arm around his wife's shoulders, as his smile transformed itself into a broader grin. "Don't you?"
Piper frowned. "Tell me again why you married him?"
**********
"It's perfect."
"And perfection is so hard to achieve these days, Patrick, is it not?"
"But do you think Rickman will approve it-"
"Rickman's not running the show," he put in. "I am. And I want to put it through tonight."
"Tonight? But surely you can wait until-"
"Waiting is for amateurs," he reminded him. "And I want her out of the way as well. She irritaes me, Patrick. She literally makes my skin crawl. All of that good...it can't be healthy."
"We agreed that we would only alter Turner's mind. There was nothing anywhere about taking care of his wife."
"Rules change," Kellerman sided, throwing his hands up upon his desk in a mockery of a shrug, grinning from ear to ear. "Or rather...she changed them for us."
"Mr. Kellerman, with all due respect, it wasn't even appropriate to- they are going to know we've latched onto them like a pair of leeches, for God's sake."
"That's the idea, Patrick. No demon ever got himself anywhere important without giving himself a bit of leverage, did he?"
"She won't have any memory," he countered. "This will no longer be a joint plane, but all of history will cease to be."
"And tell me, don't you just love the sound of that?" He chuckled to himself, smacking a palm down rather heavily upon the glass. "Doesn't that just have such a classic ring to it?"
"Yes, but you're also neglecting how we put ourselves in jeopardy, Mr. Kellerman."
"But Patrick, think of the possibilities. Think about that little bitch getting exactly what she deserves. Even more so than her husband. Doesn't it just scream soap opera to you?"
"No, Sir, I'm afraid I don't watch them."
"Well, then, you're missing out, Patrick. A world without The Charmed Ones is playing right up our alley."
"We would still have free reign over Turner," he mumbled, nodding.
"See? No harm, no foul. As perfect as perfect can be."
"A bonus then?" Patrick considered.
"A Christmas bonus," he emphasized.
"But we don't even have a spell to manipulate our work under these qualifications."
"That can be arranged," he recited simply, shrugging.
"Did she really get to you that much, Sir?"
Kellerman frowned, his patience wearing himself thin, as he cleared his throat, his eyes darting rapidly to his companion, as he showed no mercy. "She was confident, she knew her place. She was the epitome of everything I despise about magic on this plane of existence, Patrick."
"She threatened you, didn't she?"
"I don't take it lightly. I won't take it lightly."
"Of course not, Sir. Who would?"
"How do you fancy the idea of an old fashioned witch hanging?" he mused thoughtfully, his eyes lighting up. "We'll give her time to squirm, and then we'll give her a proper death and burial."
"I must say, to be inside your head, must be a truly fascinating process."
"What's history without a little violence?"
"And we can make Turner watch," he suggested. "Given his state of mind by that time, maybe he'll even-"
"Our business with him is not complete. We decided on-"
"I know, Mr. Kellerman, but...."
"Managing to hold oneself in this control is the real virtue in all of this. The prize, one might say, Patrick."
"And a fine prize it is."
"We'll alert Rickman when the time is right. I'm sure he's already got quite a few pressing issues at hand."
"But he's going to know?"
"When the time is right," Kellerman repeated, his voice lowering itself an octave. "When the time is right, Patrick. Then, he'll almost be begging for us to let him in."