Love's Mission

Disclaimer: I just own the fanfiction. The characters all belong to Spelling and Co. This is my own little take as to what transpired after Cole's final vanquish in season 5. It's what I believe could've and should've happened to him, had he become an avatar when he'd died. The "texture" I used to create the art is from this site.

She awoke with a start, as she frantically gripped the blankets that encompassed her petite frame, apprehensively pulling them tightly to her chin. She immediately began to shiver from the unexpected blast of cold that had managed to enter the room undetected, distastefully shrouding it in dark and musty shadows, while a steady stream of rain poured down her windowpane. It continued to fall silently and without merit against the glass, waging a losing battle that demanded passage and apparent defeat at the same time. Her breath was escaping in rather hoarse gasps, her body fighting the incoming chill as she fought to reach for the lamp located beside the large bed, her fingers shaking when they finally found it. But she promptly reconsidered bathing the space in bright light, hesitating just a moment, whole she proceeded to do everything humanly possible to make herself more at ease with whatever might greet her and confirm the bizarre feeling of foreboding. Her long, straight brown hair hung in disheveled tatters around her pretty face, as she brought a tense hand up to brush a few strands away, her eyes wide from what she could only conclude to be a perfectly justified sense of fear. Her clock read 3:35 in big, gaping red letters, as it sat undisturbed upon the nightstand, providing her with the only bit of light that openly welcomed her in the vast array of blackness.

It had only been about a week since the dreams had invaded her unconscious mind, and she'd been completely helpless to stop them, paralyzed against the many thoughts that sought refuge within a neverending crusade comprised of life and death. A part of her felt haunted by their origins, and she resisted with the small amount of strength she still had left, reluctantly accepting that fact that they'd never cease to play upon her guilt for all she was worth. He'd come to her in them, seeking her out when she'd rendered herself the most vulnerable, his face clothed in obscurity, the alarming reality of it almost too much to bear. She didn't want it, and she certainly hadn't asked for it. She hadn't wanted anything reminding her of memories she'd long since convinced herself to suppress following news of his demise. Naturally, she'd wished for him to be at peace, and secretly hoped it was true, as it meant she could be free of the chaotic events that had so violently taken the one man she'd once loved as dearly as life itself. Of course, she also chose to deny that love every chance she got, because the man he used to be, the man he was- hadn't existed for a long time now. She'd struggled with that glaring awareness a thousand times over, willing herself to believe there was absolutely no way to get him back. But her beliefs were often compromised by fragments of the bad so frequently outweighing the good. The dreams had merely been pieces of a past life she no longer cared to save. Her heart had grown frigid, and with it her soul had become blind to what was infinitely and undeniably missing when she'd made the decision to move on with no strings attached.

Her mouth offered a frightened yelp, as her tired lids hastily darted to the doorway, that same icy heart catching in her chest. She saw the beautiful silhouette of a man hovering near the entrance, a brief glow illuminating from the hallway behind him- though it did precious little to hide his identity. He studied her momentarily, his hands stuck inside the pockets of his worn jeans; his boots caked with a small amount of mud. The sweater he wore, complimented his rangy build quite nicely, the thick sleeves defining his muscle tones with little effort. His face bore a casual five o'clock shadow, his blue eyes filled with an indescribable grief, as he forced himself to take a single step forward. His generous lips remained in a closed state, without the slightest purse to complicate them. He was a cross between a tortured monster of the afterlife, and a long-suffering man of the now.

A dream within a dream, she thought. Only this time, it was so incredibly real, that she could feel his presence overwhelming the emptiness of the room, filling it with the stains and regrets she'd been determined to rid herself of. It wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

"They told me to wait," he said softly. "They told me you weren't ready yet."

She lifted her head higher, relaxing just a little, while she arched a thin eyebrow in confusion. "Ready? For what?"

"The truth," he added, gesturing calmly while he removed his hands, adding emphasis with a single and yet familiar shrug of his shoulders. "For all intents and purposes, I probably shouldn't even be here right now."

"So why are you?" she whispered. "I mean it's not like you can hurt me anymore."

"You're not dreaming, Phoebe," he brought forth, his gorgeous countenance projecting a fair amount of amusement, as he came a bit closer to her.

"Yeah, and you're dead," she recited simply.

"Maybe in your world," he conceded, nodding. "But in mine, things just became much more interesting."

"This isn't your world."

"No, not yet."

"I'll scream," she threatened. "Someone will hear me. Piper or Paige will come. You can't hurt me."

"You're awfully sure about that, aren't you?" he responded, pain discernibly emanating from his tone. "Well, in any case, you can't hurt what you can't touch, so I don't think you have to worry about me."

"I don't understand."

He helped himself to the rocking chair she'd only recently added to the growing collection of furniture, admiring the professionally crafted arms, and adjusting his sweater sleeves as he settled into it and made himself at home. "Just for the record, this isn't half bad. I'm thinking it has to be somewhat of an antique, because they honestly don't make them like this anymore. It's...kind of like us, isn't it?" He agilely crossed one leg over the other, gently tracing a hand the full length of his bottom lip, pausing to take her in again- the sheer brilliance as captivating to him as the day they first met. "An avatar," he retorted, while an ounce of smugness crept into his deep voice.

"Look, any minute I'm going to wake up again, and you'll be right back where she put you. You deserve to be in hell for what you did, and you're going to stay there, even if I have to put you there again myself."

"With all due respect, it's easier said than done, and as we've both seen already, you couldn't exactly stay away."

"You killed people, Cole, innocent people. That'll never constitute forgiveness, no matter how you look at it."

He shook his head. "No."

"Hey, maybe you're still missing the part where you have to face the consequences."

"I'm afraid it no longer works like that."

"The hell it doesn't. You're a figment of my imagination, and you're not even real. Who are you to barge in here and tell me otherwise? You don't control me, you never did."

"Who’s to say what's real and what isn't?" He laughed softly in his throat, tapping his strong fingers against the leg of his jeans. "I never thought something so callous could exist in a good witch, but I guess I was terribly wrong about that too, wasn't I?"

"You're not here," she repeated.

He stood, trying hard to preserve his sense of dignity as he looked down at her, waves of passion coursing through his veins while he did his best to focus on the objective at hand. "You don't want to believe it, so it automatically makes everything okay again? We happened, Phoebe. As much as you want to erase all of that, we happpened."

"For your information, I never tried to erase the Cole who actually loved me and wasn't trying to kill me and my sisters."

"I could have waited forever for you," he told her, lowering his voice again. "I could have spent years in limbo just waiting for you to find a way to bring me back again. But..." he paused a moment, wincing. "You didn't have to, and I never did. Maybe I didn't want to. They took me in, and they cut me a deal. A deal that just happens to involve you. They made me me again."

"You're lying."

"Oh really, and that's still for you to decide?"

"The real Cole Turner wouldn't have cast himself into an alternate plane to win my love. He would already know his chances were over. He wouldn't have put on the near to pathetic display I heard about, and he wouldn't have wanted my sister dead and gone."

"Yes, that's right- Paige." He nodded, a half smile falling over his features. "The woman who always thought she had the means to destroy me."

"She does," she hissed. "She was there."

"Okay, fine- but maybe the real Cole Turner doesn't have it in himself to give up on you just yet. Though...I have reason to believe our previous relationship speaks for itself."

"You have no idea."

"Why should I give you up?"

"Who are you kidding? You gave up your right to me a long time ago," she countered. "Just admit it."

"My right, really?" He frowned, his blues still hinting at words he refused to speak. "Tell me something, Phoebe. Did I have a choice?" His voice threatened to crack now, as his tone continued to maintain its reluctant distance.

"I did, and I made it."

"Yes, but are you happy?"

"More than you'll ever be," she snapped.

"I want you to come with me," he told her, effortlessly shrugging off her comment, as he held out a strong hand, letting it linger ever so briefly, as he waited for her to get a firm grasp.

She didn't take it. "Some dreams die hard, Cole."

"Yeah, mine certainly did." He nodded, pausing a moment. "Take my hand. I want to show you something."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. In my mind, you still don't exist."

"Did you ever wonder what your world may have been like?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you ever wonder what the world still has in store for you, because you made those choices you did? I mean, it's just a question."

"If you're asking me if I think the world is better with you gone, you already know the answer."

"The scary thing is," he continued, ignoring her, "is that what you aren't entirely aware of, could be the one thing that just ends up costing you your life."

"Are you warning me about a demon, or are you just here to flaunt your new title?"

"I'm telling you to be careful."

"Of what?"

"Are you going to stop fighting me?"

"I'm not fighting-"

"Yes, you are," he interrupted, taking a step closer to her, as his gorgeous visage nearly crumbling in the darkness. "Every second you got, you fought me, Phoebe. Right until the bitter end. You're still fighting me. Nothing's changed. I shouldn't even be telling you any of this, because I'm probably even betraying my cause." He almost laughed, as a faint smile highlighted the pools of blue. "I'm a balance between good and evil. I'm something the world has never known. But you...." He let those lips fully transform his face into a full smile, as he let a strong hand linger near her jawline, as if mentally tracing its outline, his heart catching in his chest. "You've always known me, Phoebe. Since the day we first met. Do you remember?"

She brushed the back of her hand lightly to her cheek, as the blackness of the room continued to mask her countenance somewhat, half of her wanting to take back the droplet that had just fallen onto a heart of stone. "It doesn't matter. You're not a part of me anymore."

"You're my weakness. I can't deny it, not even after death. You killed me, and all I seem to keep doing, is thanking you for it." He slowly raised a brow. "Come to think of it, my only crime is the one thing I've always been guilty of."

"You can't go back. You know you can't. We're too far away from each other now."

"I once thought heaven would have me," he concluded softly, "but that I'd never make it there in a million years, no matter how hard I kept trying. I think it's because I always knew, you know? Someone like me gets a break, and I sure as hell don't think I'll make the world's greatest avatar."

"What did you mean when-"

"We miscalculated," he mused. "There will be no heaven. Only a hell."

"Hell..."

"Yes. We thought we could contain evil, and balance it from continually consuming the good in record time. It's what they recruited me for, and ultimately surmised to be our goal. But the discovery it led us to, is far more serious than we could have possibly imagined. A new evil struggling to gain a foothold, will eventually rule above ground, and he'll succeed. You and your sisters will be wiped out, and we'll all be forced to come together under their terms. We don't have any information on their whereabouts, or even when they'll strike, but then again- we're rarely ever wrong."

"You make it sound like you're a real pro now."

"Was that a compliment?" he returned, clearly stunned, both of his eyebrows raising themselves up.

"So our only choice will be to surrender to evil," she sided, her voice no more than a whisper.

"Exactly. Which is why I've come to you."

"You said you weren't giving up."

He shook his head. "Not when I need you this much. Dammit, Phoebe, I know what happened, because you did it to me. I know that right now you're unsure of where to turn, because your loyalties no longer lie with me. But you need to rethink that- you have to rethink it."

"I don't even know who you are anymore."

"If we take a chance again, you won't have to."

"Won't I?" she breathed. "It's all I've ever done."

"No, it isn't." He considered her a moment. "But if it's one thing you've always done, it's running away...from everything you don't understand."

"Cole, I-"

"I still remember the letter I wrote to you. I didn't know if we'd ever meet again, but deep down inside of me, I secretly hoped we would. It was stupid, you know? To think my thoughts so foolishly. I wanted to be vanquished that night, Phoebe. I wanted you to end it. I wanted it over with. And after I saw what we could have been like? The way we grew apart- maybe some small speck of me wished I had been put out of my misery. I sure as hell wasn't happy. And yet....I think the same could've also been said for you. The Phoebe I looked at for the last time wasn't the Phoebe who's sitting before me right now. She was full of cruelty that went unnoticed all those years, and she put herself into an unhappy marriage for kicks. She'd never really be satisfied, because she wasn't the woman who was strong, and caring, and the one I originally fell madly in love with. That's you. The other one exists on a plane of reality that doesn't allow her to love."

The tears were pouring down her face now, as she struggled to meet his gaze, emotion overtaking her entire being, as she lifted a shaky hand to her cheeks again, his words clearly shifting her off balance. "I don't want to be."

"Why?"

"I don't know if I can let you in again. I...I want to, but I don't know if I can, Cole. It's been....God, it's been so long."

"I'm a good person," he whispered. "And if you never believed that before, believe it now. I owe everything to you."

"What do you want from me?"

"You wouldn't be able to go back," he told her. "You'd-"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Join me," he said softly. "Help me do what's right."

"And what'll happen to Piper and Paige? Leo? What'll happen to them, if they take over?"

He smiled. "With you on our side, your strength will help us keep the trust that's existed in the world since the dawn of time. You'll be doing more than you know to save humanity."

"What about when I wake up?"

"You're not dreaming," he reminded her, "and I'm far from a figment."

"How do you know all of this? How can you be positive it'll come to pass?"

"I can show you," he told her again. "I can show you the world after its destruction, and our failure to protect the inno-"

"We've always saved them, it's what we do."

"Once the demonic reign regains its standing, the Power of Three will be corrupt, and will essentially cease to exist."

"I don't understand."

"You don't have to, to see what's coming. They don't think you're ready, but I do. In fact, I think you've been the perfect candidate, since you let all of that anger get the better of you. It's sometimes kind of attractive and....oddly flattering at times."

The corners of her mouth lifted themselves into a tiny smile. "Maybe because I hadn't realized what I left behind."

"And now?"

"Half of me still wants you gone, and the other half still wishes you'd stay."

"That's not-"

"How can you still be asking this of me when I sent you away? I thought I had good reason, Cole, and I was so relieved- so relieved you were out of my life, because then I wouldn't have to hide anymore. I was free, and I was actually happy. I was free of....everything. No more grief, no more wondering what would happen if you had hurt me, or-"

"I'll let you sleep on it," he offered, wincing slightly, as he took a strand of long brown hair, and slowly ran a finger over it, still finding himself very much drawn to her, even as he began to move farther away.

"They'd never forgive me," she whispered.

"But they'd thank you for it later," he countered. "When the world is safe, and...we did something good together."

"And I don't know if I can do that to them."

"Phoebe."

"Why did you risk it, when you know they're dead set against it?"

"I missed you?"

She nearly smiled. "I thought you were dead. But then I realized the Cole I'd loved was probably dead long before I'd come to that conclusion."

"You said you didn't feel anything anymore- and after I....well, resorting to pathetic schemes to try and-"

"But you have to go now, don't you?"

"I'll give you until tomorrow morning," he whispered.

"Cole Turner...trying to save the world again."

"Count on it."

But he never counted on her hand gingerly moving behind his neck, or the way she quickly pulled him close, her lips lingering on his in that tender moment, as he felt her heart skip a beat, as it lay pressed against his chest. He responded to her wholeheartedly, pouring heart and soul into her, as he was reminded of all the days they'd shared apart. Somehow, it didn't seem to matter anymore, if they could start over again, and rediscover each other's feelings again, victims to the one thing that had drawn them together in the first place. He let his forehead rest against hers, as he kept his head tilted down to her level, her petite frame standing on tiptoe to meet him.

"Goodbye."

"Good night," she corrected, a faint memory willing itself inside of her, as she reluctantly let him go. She watched as he slowly faded away into the shadows, his blues touching her until he was completely out of sight, a quiet grin spread over his beautiful face, until there was nothing left and she sadly realized she was alone again. "Yeah," she murmured to the vacant space around her, half hoping he'd come to answer her back. "This time it's different, isn't it?"

The following morning she awoke, greeted by a fairly small, and fairly familiar silver wedding band sitting comfortably upon her pillow, polished and clean cut with age gently carved into it, as it glinted with the soft shade of light that delicately reflected it from all angles. She took it hesitantly in her grasp, her fingers moving over the smooth surface, as she held it calmly between her forefinger and her thumb. Holding out a finger, she drew it across her skin in one natural maneuver, its feel surprisingly warm to her touch, as the sudden warmth radiated pleasantly off her skin. Settling back down into the sheets, she pulled them up to her chest, as she began to toy with it, all the while noticing her lips had tugged themselves into a carefree smile she hadn't seen in months.

The End