Precious Illusions
part 4
"Is there anything I can do to help?" The little girl hesitantly halted in her step at the doorway of the slightly cramped bathroom, her green eyes coming to rest on the figure that had braced himself in the welcoming sanctuary of the narrow bathtub, letting the spray from the shower course lightly over his hair and clothes, caressing him in its charitable feeling of warmth. She stared at him another moment, her small lips pursing themselves, curiosity overwhelming her, as she eagerly awaited some kind of a response. She watched him tilt his head back, so that it was resting comfortably against the wall, his lids shut tight.
"I'm sorry," he whispered then.
"Sorry for what, Daddy?"
"I was so..." he searched and fumbled carelessly for words that wouldn't come to him, raising his brows, as he gestured slowly with one hand. "I was so consumed...caught up by what I did, that I didn't even seen this coming. But I should have anticipated it the minute I set foot in that apartment. I should have. I know better than that. I was just so...taken by the fact that she was actually here, that I didn't want to try and do a damn thing about it. I could have prevented this, I could have-"
"That's not true," Alexandra Turner insisted.
"I wanted so bad not to believe. I wanted Byron to let it all make perfect sense, so I didn't have to take the blame. I wanted the truth to be something I wouldn't be ashamed of anymore. But now I know that it's just not possible. Shame is just as natural as death- if not more so. You just cope with one better than you do the other."
"You hurt her," she acknowledged.
He nodded. "I was reckless. I didn't understand that it was wrong, because I didn't know any other way. They raised me to kill." He smiled tragically then, sighing. "Kill or be killed- and I wanted to survive. I needed to survive. It was something I'd worked so hard for."
"It's okay," she assured him in a small voice.
"No, it's not."
"Daddy-"
"I'm going to make things right. This time, I'm going to make it right."
"Sometimes we think some things are good when we do them, because other people tell us that. It doesn't mean those people are good. A stupid kid at school tries to get you in big trouble, and you can't use your powers on him, because you know it would be really bad, and then the teacher catches you at what you did, and makes you sit in time-out...she's mad you didn't listen to her- which really sucks. I always hate that. But something like this? It's not your fault."
"Oh, sweetie, I want to believe that. I really do. But when you've fought as long and as hard as I have, you continually wonder what you're still fighting for."
"A good man, would be a start," a soft voice suggested, as Phoebe Halliwell leaned her slender frame against the open door, her pretty face not the least bit tainted by the events that had occurred only moments earlier. "And somewhere inside, you know you're still that man."
"I'm going to tell you everything."
She nodded. "I know you are."
"But as of right now, I'm still trying to get over the fact that you're not freaking out right now."
"Should I start to freak out?" she questioned, seemingly thrown by the response. "I mean, as far as I'm concerned, this is your past we're talking about here, and it's not like you did whatever you did a couple of days ago, Cole."
"Phoebe-"
"You're sorry," she whispered, as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I get that. It's not like you can take any of it back. The world just doesn't allow us that luxury. But you have friends. You have...people who love you, and at this point, I think that's all that matters."
"What matters right now is the truth."
"Yes, that too."
"How is she?" he quickly asked, his gaze abruptly traveling to the barren wall on his right. His eyes narrowed slightly, as he pretended to concentrate on some invisible pattern lurking there, silently tracing it.
"Honestly? We don't know yet. Andy's trying to get her to talk, but she's clammed up." She thoughtfully bit her lower lip. "Prue went and got her some clothes."
"And he didn't notif-"
"No. Because I told him there's probably an explanation behind it, even if it isn't necessarily logical."
"That's good."
"So who is she?" she brought forth, her tone achingly persistent, and yet struggling to keep its distance at the same time.
"I don't think it's-"
"If our daughter was in the room when you found her, Cole, I think it's only fair she hears it from her father, don't you?"
"I'm not doubting she won't be able to accept it," he offered softly. "It just not something I'm proud of, considering what's happened since then."
"Then what's the proble-"
"Her name...is Laurel Egan," he abruptly cut her off, lightly gritting his teeth. "And she was a job. It's that simple."
"A job?"
"The Source asked me to do a job and I did it," he confirmed, a bit too sharply. "I didn't question his motives, and I certainly didn't hesitate. I was what I was, Phoebe, and you can't change that. Laurel was an innocent who was caught in the crossfire. She was punished for her existence, and she was damned for being just that pure. She was trusting, she was honest, and she didn't have any preconceived notions of me when we first met. She believed I was a man confiding in her with my heart. I wanted to believe that, too, but unfortunately, it wasn't in my nature to accept it. I told you that once, remember?"
"Get out of the tub."
"What?"
"Look, Cole, if we're going to discuss this, we're going to do it in a place you can't drown out sins of the past. Literally, in your case. C'mon."
"It's going to take time."
"Yeah, well, something tells me that woman in our living room doesn't exactly have a whole lot of it left."
"You know that for sure?"
"No," she concluded tiredly. "I don't, Cole. But something needs to be said, and I'm guessing you're the only one who knows how to say it."
"So you want me to try talking to her again," he reasoned.
"I want you to try talking to me."
"But I'm not altogether sure one night is going to clear up all the missing pieces to your little puzzle. You can pretty much surmise what happened now, can't you? You'll have no trouble filling in the blanks on your own."
"I want to hear that from you," she tried again.
"Tomorrow," he whispered.
"Do either of you have any idea what this is doing to this house tonight?" she asked incredulously. "As if we don't already have enough on our minds. Then oh look! Out pops a girl from Cole's past and she now appears to be mute and in need of a place to stay."
"You're upset. I knew it. "
"I’m not upset, " she insisted mildly, "I just want answers. "
"It's doesn't matter whether or not the truth comes out," he sided, "either way, everyone's going to make their own judgments based upon a fraction of it- despite the fact that they never actually lived it. It's not fair, per se, but it's ultimately how the world runs itself and how we obey those demands."
"Thank you, Dr. Phil, I just feel so incredibly enlightened right now."
"Do you know why some things eventually turn tragic?" he inquired then, raising an eyebrow, his gorgeous countenance shielding itself in shadows once again.
She stared at him long and hard, her small frame tensing, her fingers pressing themselves into her arms with strength she didn't even know she possessed. She folded her mouth into a tight line, her brown eyes crinkling slightly at the invitation. "I would guess it's because the person or people weren't in control of their own destiny at the time."
"It's because we let them happen of our own free will. Destiny has nothing to do with it. I willingly corresponded with the Source back then, because he accepted me as someone he knew would and could do great things for him- someone who ultimately got the job done and relished in the tremendous aftermath of his work. I was that guy. I was the guy who wasn't supposed to feel. The funny thing is, irony has a strange way of showing us salvation- because it was also the one betrayal they never saw coming."
"We all feel remorse, Cole, even if it doesn't show itself to you right away- or even at all. It's still there. You can try and deny it all you want, but somewhere inside yourself, you sought redemption as soon as you ended her life, and maybe even before that. You know you did. You can't sit there and tell me otherwise, because I know better."
"No, see, that's only what I want to believe. And the fact the matter is, I honestly didn't want it. Not for a minute, Phoebe."
"If you didn't believe it, you wouldn't be human."
"Phoebe, it's not that s-"
"Actually, it is. And you're already aware of that. I'm not going to stand here telling you things you already know. I want you to tell me things I don't already know."
"Fine." He slowly lifted himself up, calmly bringing each leg out of the bathtub with careful ease, as he reached to his right for a white towel. His limbs had very nearly grown numb, despite the soothing temperature of the water around him, and he struggled a bit, his hand shaking, as it quietly gripped the wall for support.
"I'll be in the bedroom," she told him, as she abruptly made her exit, her feet shuffling along the floorboards.
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Alex asked then, her small face still mirroring a great deal of concern for him. "I can try and read you a bedtime story to make you feel better."
He smiled, throwing her a quick wink. "That's great, sweetheart, but I've actually got a much darker story in mind at the moment, and it's not going to go anywhere anytime soon."
"Is it about Laurel?" she pressed.
"This one doesn't have a happy ending," he murmured.
"And it's because you hurt her, like you told me and Mommy."
"I wasn't exactly her savior," he admitted. "While every other man was out there enjoying the likes of Bette Davis and Katharine Hepburn, I was already befriending Laurel Egan and plotting her demise. Back then, the entertainment of the day would have done well to shroud any suspicion one might have with a man of my agenda."
She cocked an eyebrow. "Bette who?"
"She was an actress who gained popularity in the late 30's and her streak continued into the forties- her films are probably classics now."
"Did you ever take Laurel to the movies?"
"Alex, I don't really think that's relevant at this point, and I-"
"I don't mean it in a bad way, Daddy, I just wanna know what she was like."
"Nothing like she is now," he whispered. "Back when I knew her, I used to think she had a heart of gold...there were times when I didn't even believe I had the power I needed to crush it." His blues held his daughter's green eyes for a moment, clouding rather slightly, as he winced. His lips almost seemed to tremble. "But that was another life- another time."
"But she found you again," the little girl persisted. "That has to mean something."
"It means that someone or something insists I keep repenting for my wicked ways," he emphasized. "For some reason, their dead set against me living a semi-normal life."
"Who is it?"
"That's what I'm going to find out."
"Did you ever love before Mommy?"
The question was one that had never quite caught him so off guard throughout the strain of his existence. While the wisdom and the courage of this small child continued to both shock and impress him the longer he knew her, the amazement he felt pulled at his gut and drove him back to the very evil he had sought to vanquish when he'd defied Raynor and The Source, and finally learned how to feel. They'd denied him that right when they'd had him under their control- in their clutches, and even now, he was still drawn to that sudden darkness, despite the fact that his reasoning was altogether different. A reasoning that had surprisingly been altered by the comfort he'd found inside Phoebe. But he somehow couldn't begrudge the emotions Laurel had bestowed upon him when she'd known and entrusted her very soul to him, unsuspecting of what was to come in the not too distant future. He had been a man entirely capable of wining and dining, but couldn't seem to surpass what he was then. He could possess an eternity of charm, and destroy it the minute he snapped and succumbed to fulfilling his mission. It was precisely what he was known for and what he did.
"Daddy?"
"Why don't you go downstairs and help Aunt Prue with Laurel?" he advised her, quickly and purposely changing the subject.
"But you didn't answer the question," Alex protested.
"Alexandra."
"You can break a heart, but it doesn't mean you can't put the pieces back together."
"Some are just meant to stay broken. They fare better that way."
"Is yours still broken?" she eagerly prompted.
"Hardened for a time, but never broken."
"I'm almost tempted to call Morris on this one," Andy Trudeau cut in, as he worked his way up the stairs, running his fingers tiredly through his dark hair. He still had on a pair of plaid pajama pants, and an old navy t-shirt, his feet clothed in some loose white socks. "Paige got her to drink some tea, but she's still not talking."
"I really don't think a jail cell would be the best place to keep a woman who currently has no records to speak of."
"Well, if what you say is true," Andy surmised, " the records are probably still there, they're just not...shall we say, accurate?"
"That'd be a nice way to put it," Cole acknowledged softly. "She's not even supposed to be alive, given the circumstances."
"Is there something I'm missing here? I mean, more so than usual? Because first she's writing cryptic messages all over the wall and walking around naked- practically drawing all the attention she can to herself, and the next thing we know, she's hiding out in closets, displaying violent tendencies, and soon refuses to speak altogether. I'm not sure I understand what's going on here."
"Welcome to the club," Paige invited behind him, as she casually rolled her eyes, hands slinging themselves over her hips. She rocked back upon the balls of her feet, slowly letting out a breath. "Those symptoms alone clearly indicate she's a potential candidate for the crazy house." She took her index finger and pointed it scoldingly in Cole's direction. "And might I just add destroying silverware to the list? I got that for you and Phoebe on your anniversary. Not that it matters anymore, because as far as I'm concerned, Phoebe's going to toss it in the garbage when she boots your sorry ass out, anyway."
"We're going to need to keep her somewhere until we can get some answers," Andy continued. "If no one's got a room with a damn good key, one of us will have to keep watch."
"Pretty much out of the question when she started writing on walls," Cole quipped sarcastically.
"Like I said, I'm not about to take my chances."
"What business would she have with you? I'm the bad guy here. It's me she wants. And far be it for me to deny her that, if she's waited all these years for it."
"She hid herself in Alex's closet, for crying out loud. A naked woman, in Alex's closet," Paige reiterated. "Am I the only one seeing this?"
"Apparently yes," Cole quipped.
"The point is, we can't exactly draw attention to ourselves now," Andy argued. "If the neighbors get wind of the fact that we're hiding a woman who was searching for a half demon over here, the cops aren't going to be the only ones knocking on our door."
"The Laurel Egan I remember wasn't the type to kill anybody."
"Until you drove her to it," Paige mumbled, almost out of earshot.
"This has nothing to d-"
"No, it only has everything to do with you."
"Have you been listening to what I've been saying?" he roughly countered. "When you find yourself in a strange place, looking like you still did when you were in your twenties, things are going to seem a little out of place. If they seemed perfectly normal, I think we'd have cause to wonder about her state of mind. She's alone, Paige. And as of right now, the only one she's got- the only one she remembers in this house, is a man who made her believe he enjoyed her company, then turned on her and led her to her own death. Given what the past holds here, she's right to be completely pissed off and confused."
"It's easy for you to think it, because you lived through it. God only knows why some idiot chose to bring her back to begin with."
"How do you know that?"
"What?"
"You don't know that she's here now to suffer or to make me suffer, or to make anyone around us suffer. For all we know, she could have been given a legitimate second chance at life, and maybe it's an angel, instead of a demon who chose to arrange it that way."
"It doesn't wor-"
"But it could."
"Well, you've got me, because we sure as hell know The Elders aren't involved."
"Paige..."
"Look, I'm sorry, I really am. Okay? But I just can't contain what I feel for what that woman must have gone through in there. And knowing you're responsible only adds to it. Not that I want it to, but it does. It may not change the way I see you now, but it obviously sheds light on what you never told us."
"And whatever it was this time- this...day in age, I honestly had no part in it. If you can't accept anything else, maybe you can accept that."
"Maybe she wants to show Daddy something else," Alex spoke up amid the silence.
"Ally, go down and help your Aunt Prue," he repeated rather gently, his eyes still trained on Paige.
"What if it's something you missed back then? Something you couldn't see?"
"Sweetie, I don't..."
"When you were punished before and we almost lost Mommy, you saw what life was like without her. Maybe when you were with Laurel, something happened, too."
"Something to make her wait for just the right time to make a grand entrance?" He immediately shook his head. "I don't think so, Ally- because she's not even supposed to be alive."
"Wait, is this when the whole world supposedly disappeared, and I didn't even know it?" Andy added, clearly perplexed.
"Kind of irrelevant, but yes," Paige volunteered, offering him a look.
"But maybe you didn't really hurt her," Alex continued.
"Believe me, Ally, I think I know what I did. It was a long time ago, but I remember every minute of it like it was yesterday."
"And it's still okay to do that."
His eyes dimmed for a moment, as if desperately trying to wrestle with the notion, then rapidly regained their brightness as the effort abruptly faded. "I have to go and find your mom," he told her, giving her tiny shoulder a slight squeeze. "We can talk more about this later."
"Promise?"
"You'll have to face her again, you know."
"Paige."
"You will," she insisted. "She's not going away, Cole, and you're the only one who has a history with her. If we can't get her to start telling us something, you're the only one who can."
"And some things should just be left in the past," he contended. "Where they rightfully belong." He was already gone before she looked up again, a door slamming itself shut in the hallway, cascading off the walls with a pronounced stage of resentment. She just heaved a sigh, as she turned to watch Andy, who merely threw his hands up into the air in a rather defeated gesture, his feet heading in the direction of the stairwell, Alex quickly scampering behind him, trying her best to match his long strides.
"It's going to be a long night," he called back to her, his fingers gripping the railing.
"He'll come around," Alex protested, even though he hadn't addressed her. "Daddy always does. It may not seem like it now, but he just needs to talk to Mommy. She'll help him."
"And some things that are from the past have a place in the future, Cole," Paige told herself, drowning out the sounds that filtered through the air and surrounded her. "You're living proof of that. Whether you want to see it or not."