Post by skys on Sept 14, 2006 2:32:27 GMT -5
Author: Sky Samuelle
Disclaimer: If I owned Charmed, Cole wouldn’t be dead, Chris would be the Heir, Bianca would be in more than one episode, and Coop wouldn’t have a reason to exist. Unfortunately I don’t, so I write this fic in a twisted attempt to compensate. Still, I definitely own Virginia Calloway, her niece Bree and –partly- Ben.
Summary: AU, POST Season 7. A Chris & Bianca story in essence. But also the tale of four friends who discovered a hero inside boy, a girl inside an assassin, a demon inside a witch, a lover inside a cousin.
[glow=red,2,300]
THE WITCHING HOUR[/glow]
Prologue: For every son lost, there’s a son found.
The sunset light filtering throughout the window‘s glass designed harshly the outline of his daughter’s figure as he kept the baby boy against his chest, his hands busying themselves to rub his back in soothing circles…he noticed that it was almost like if he was trying to warm up his grandson, when in fact it was himself who needed.
Everything had stopped making sense the moment Piper knocked on his door and put the little Christopher in his eager embrace, rushing on with mad suggestions about escapes, abandonment and difficult resolutions; now all he could feel was a sort of surreal detachment from whole scene. If it wasn’t been for the chilly, unnamed sensation inside him, Victor would be been sure he was dreaming.
Which was why he was mildly surprised to hear himself to talk with calm, even voice:
“I just can’t convince myself this is the right thing to do. There’s surely some other solution…”
“There’s nothing – his daughter interrupted him rashly- I do it for his sake. How do you think we can bring him with us, in a life of hiding, knowing we shall have focus on Wyatt every moment, to guard him against the evil which could corrupt him, and educating him to inherit Excalibur? Chris has already sacrificed too much and …”
The Piper’s mask of composure looked, for few seconds , ready to melt away in tears and sobs and Victor could swear she had never spoke about her second-born with so much emotion; but it took just as little to settle it back in place.
“Magic seeks always its balance Dad, if there’s a thing I’ve learned it’s that. The other Chris was just 22 years when he died. Even if he saved our future, there’s a chance he’s meant to …end his life prematurely. And I can’t be the mother he deserves if I look at him and think I’ll have him just for 22 years.”
Victor could read in her expression that she had not meant to reveal so much to him, even if this last reasoning was probably more to blame for her decision than all the rubbish she had wasted the past two hours to explain.
His mouth felt far too dry when he opened it again:
“Is it all what you think about, every time you hold Chris, a death sentence? It sounds so…”
“I can’t even hold him all that much!”
The brittle smile on oldest Charmed One‘s face felt and looked like a grimace, and yet it was vaguely liberating to let out the disgusting, shameful secret. One glance at Victor and she knew why she had she had vehemently denied it in front of Leo and her sisters - she wouldn’t be been able to withstand that disbelieving expression from them.
“I am weary of death and danger, Dad. I ‘m not strong enough to risk it. I can’t grow to love Chris and then lose him. Just now, l look at him and I feel nothing. It’s like if he wasn’t mine, like I was only going through the motions of being his mum and it kills me a little every day. I want to give him more than a life of being second best…. With his powers bound, he has a chance at a normal life and the only time I ever seen him happy, it was with you”
Victor didn’t know how break the silence which followed that admission. What could he say to a mother who refused to get emotionally attached to her son – his grandson- but still wanted to protect him from herself? Although he dreaded the idea, the man suspected that there was almost nothing he could add to dissuade her, if whole the plan was been already discussed and approved by her sisters and Leo.
For some reason, thinking about that particular discussion taking place made him to feel older than he had felt in long time.
“If something magical was to happen, I wouldn’t know to protect him.”
“You won’t need”
In silence, father and daughter studied each other again, both upset and stubborn.
“This is the only thing your family ever asked of you in twenty years. You owe us, dad”
Three months earlier, New Orleans
At the 3 AM, Virginia Calloway woke up drenched in cold sweat, her sheets sticky to her back. Her mind was still full of the horrible nightmare which tormented from weeks: she could still perceive the encompassing, empty darkness enveloping her, to hear a child’s cry coming from anywhere and everywhere at once, and then *that* voice , taunting her: “Go to him. Save him .If you ever wanted a child… ”
Even if Virginia came from an ancient, well- respected witching family, she was been blessed with only one, albeit rare, active birth-power, called *Discernment of Spirits * and even if her parents had always found it useless- specially when there was feud with the Montanans to cultivate- she was never been displeased with it.
It wasn’t just some “I see dead people” thing; It was even the ability to literally discern spirits, and know whether they originated from good or from evil, and it had always allowed her to fall sleep a little more serenely at the night.
Until a very recent encounter, at least.
“ Enough! – She screamed, looking frantically around the room –Are you listening me, damnit? I want being left alone! I don’t know why you are doing this but you‘ll do better to stop!”
In a blink, the familiar figure of tall, slender man took consistence from the shadows of her bedroom. Naturally, he wasn’t really material, but like many other souls forced to over in the bleak space between worlds called Limbo, he kept to hold on his mortal appearance – with his blue-green eyes ,raven hair, sensual mouth and roman profile, Virginia was forced to admit he was been handsome.
“Then help me, so I’ll leave””
There was just a touch of mockery in his soft, confident voice, but like every time it was the intensity of the despair she could read in his aura which drew her in.
His soul was blazing rainbow of contrasting passions(love and bitterness, hope and disappointment) but the hopelessness, the absence of any expectative so typical of the dimension he was struck in were wrapped around him like a thick, dark cloak . Yet Virginia could also see fierce, stubborn ties keeping him anchored to the mortal realm.
It was a beautiful and sad thing to observe. Too bad she was too angry to feel pity.
“It isn’t in my power to give you peace.”
“I don’t seek peace, but closure. I took ages to find someone with your power and now my son’s time is running out. I need you save him. ”
“Wait a moment - she said shaking her head- those images you sent in my dreams weren’t your doing?”
“No”
The admission unsettled her deeply. In those two months he had tormented her manipulating her dreams, it was been easy to resent him, to believe the spirit was playing on her personal weaknesses to win her cooperation, not unlike others which came before him: she had been certain he had someway known about the miscarriage of the only child she had never conceived, a tragic casualty in the eternal guerrilla warfare between Calloways and Montanas.
Her fairytale marriage to her mortal high school sweetheart had ended shortly after, in a traumatic explosion of blame and misunderstandings, cutting comments and petty, endless discussions, in spite of their attempt of leaving both the past and the magic behind by running from San Francisco.
Night after night, those horrible nightmares had shattered forever whatever fantasy Virginia had never entertained about being over that loss … and she had had no doubt about the purposefulness of them. But if she was been mistaken….
“Were you showing me what you see, what you feel?”
“I tried to get you to understand my… problem. I’ve been feeling my son growing weaker. He can feel me, and I can feel him a bit more every day. Perhaps I always could, but I was… distracted, I guess. I know he‘s been in this condition for long time. I believed him vanquished before I reached my actual state. ”
“Wait a second, here- Virginia interrupted him, her eyes narrowing in suspicion – I can tell you were not completely human. I wouldn’t get involved in reviving some demonic spawn and you are insane if you think you can convince me. ”
“His mother was a good witch, I was half-demon. This makes our child ¾ human. ¬¬¬”
The spirit explained with a rational, studied manner which belied the increasing urgency colouring his most recent admissions.
Chapter One : The Black Well
“ I have difficulty to see why vanquishing him would be been necessary ”
Virginia inquired, licking her lips self-consciously. In spite of her usual determination to not interfere with the journeys of trespassed souls, something about this one roused her interest.
Maybe it was just the fact she could relate to a parent’ regret, making her to want believe him, help him …. And this vulnerability only put her more on the edge about her guest’ possible intentions. It wasn’t like if she had not met any half-breeds who had turned out fine, but there was all the same a good reason to stay alert.
“ Let’s say it was a case of possession, before his …birth.”
“ Stop and rewind, mister: the mother was possessed but your son was vanquished ? Because frankly, I never heard about a malignant entity possessing an unborn child, unless they were one and the same ”
However barely noticeable, her trained eyes didn’t miss the uncurling of darker, almost black , folds of energy around the peripheral layer of his aura : they rose and merged easily, smoothing over in one harmonious wave, perfectly synchronic with the swift flaring and waning distaste in his expression. The fire in his gaze lived on, all the same.
It said a lot about him , the way he had contained his anger : this man was powerful, and possibly just as intense in his death as he was been during his mortal life, but he was also able of cool-headed focus.
His voice only filtered annoyance:
“ My son may not be entirely human, but his power was never used for Good or Evil : until he gets the chance his life is innocent, Virginia. Isn’t what a good witch does, protecting the Innocent? ”
“ You tell me if your wife - or lover, was one of us. ”
The guy argued like a lawyer, Virginia had to concede as much while she rubbed tiredly her eyes and suppressed a yawn.
“Explain me, Mr… have you a name or should come up with one myself for the durance of this conversation?”
For few seconds, the witch had no doubts about what her interlocutor was thinking: she could read his relief at her acceptance, his surprise to her question, the unexpected pleasure of answering it as simply as he was voicing them loudly. It was like if nobody had asked that question to him in far too long, and he had suddenly realized he still had a name and identity despite of that.
“You may call me Cole. – he paused, favouring her with an annoyingly superior half-smile while he seemingly savoured the moment some more - My name was Cole Turner”
Cole Turner…. To Virginia it sounded almost familiar. It was entirely possible she had heard of him within the Magical Community. But there would be more appropriate moment to investigate it.
“Tell me how your son would survive the exorcism, Cole.”
Cole crossed his arms and scratched his chin thoughtfully- it was almost funny how those ghosts maintained a human mannerism, even when they had hardly any sense of touch left- then he added shrugging:
“I’m not quite sure, because I was already dead when it happened. I know my wife was expecting a perfectly healthy baby boy when I was alive. Later I’ve tried to hold on her, without too success, and found myself struck in the Limbo. But I’m sure Ben- we would named him so, like my father- wasn’t here. During the exorcism, I’ve felt my connection to him splintering but the more I think about it, the more I convince myself he must have sensed the danger and shimmered. Probably the contact with a possessed host has triggered his development of a demonic form. By shifting into that, he managed to reach The Black Well and survive there until now ”
Virginia furrowed her brows “The Black Well?”
“It’s a vulgar name for the very core of the Underworld. His deepest, darkest part. No demon go never there because its energy is too volatile , but every dark creature would be attracted to it. Think of the Black Well like the gravity centre of the Underworld. When Ben accessed his shimmering power so prematurely, before having any experience of the material plane…It was the only place his senses would recognized as safe…He could only end up there ”
“But once there, he couldn’t leave it. He got himself struck like lead to a magnet”
Virginia guessed
“Exactly” Cole acquiesced “First the dark energy fed him, kept him alive even if in a vegetative state, but now it’s deteriorating his human part. His soul is closer to my same plane of existence with each passing day. We sense each other, and he seeks me instinctively. ”
The imagine of that lost child in the darkness crying for his father sprang to the witch’s memory with sudden, amazing clarity – no longer the memory of a nightmare, but a desperate plea from a dying little boy to a dead parent, from a powerless father to a distrusting stranger. Terrible.
Shaking herself from her reverie, she suggested:
“It makes sense as a theory. Your wife could know something more since she was there ‘in the flesh’ ”
Cole’s features hardened even while his gaze softened and Virginia could read faint hues of guilt and tenderness in his astral aura.
“Sadly, today I’m all the family Ben has”
Wonderful, even if they managed to miraculously save the baby’s life, the little one would be been an orphan.
“My book of shadows won’t be of much help in this matter. For obvious reasons, I don’t think my family had never had cause to deal with this Black Well”
“I didn’t count on it. I didn’t come to you for that” Cole assured, dismissing the mere idea with an unconcerned wave of his hand.
“Be careful, Cole. You are almost making it to sound like if you have a plan set in motion”
The half-demon bestowed on her an absent smile, assessing her with a certain satisfaction.
“I can conjure you where Ben is”
More than anything, Virginia hated being pulled blindly into another’s schemes. Still, she knew there was little other choice: anything Cole wanted to test with her would have a better chance of success during a full moon night like this one and she doubted her capacity of finding a solution of hers own.
All what she could trust in was Cole’s love for his son and uncommon capacity to interfere with the mortal world.
“Why have I the feeling there‘s a catch?”
“Because there’s one: The power I have is sufficient to bring you to Ben, but it will be only enough to keep there for a very short time if I must also bring you back. Then you will be on your own… I won’t even able to talk you until I recover the energy loss – It’ll take years probably. ”
“What should I do?”
“Close your eyes and open your mind to me”
Virginia breathed in deeply and followed his instructions, trying to suppress the anxiety roaring like a wild animal inside her. Eventually she managed to set it aside, and focused on the child she wanted to save.
She began feeling the Cole’s power as it tugged to her rawer senses, and surrendered to it; it wasn’t the first time she lived this experience of intimate contact with a spiritual being and the sensation of all what he was enveloping her completely relaxed her: his soul was tainted by love and grief , maybe remorse, but not Evil.
All too soon, the witch found herself lost inside the deeper darkness she had never known.
The feelings assaulting her hearth were disorienting: lust, anger and a vague desire for violence darted painfully inside her, pulling her brain toward different directions.
“Focus – Cole whispered inside her mind, surrounding her again with his presence-- Ben is before you. Take him, and then we will go. Don’t be scared. ”
Dazedly, Virginia looked around the bleak blackness, shuddering once more.
Finally she saw the child: Ben was a small vermillion creature sticking out in that endless night.
She kneed to take him and froze : two minute goat-like horns were on his bald, perfectly- rounded head and his newborn body was all wrinkles and hard edges, while his facial features were those of a common infant. His aura was strange… she could read no evil in it per se, but she could sense nothing but tasteless void.
“Take him!” Cole urged her on; reminding her they were on borrowed time.
Virginia obeyed immediately and as soon as the baby was in her arms the world around her dissolved, her thinking patterns became a fog of pain and confusion and everything took once more shape and dimension in front of her eyes.
‘Thank you, Virginia’ – it was Cole’s last murmur while his power brushed against her.
Then she was once more in her home, on her bed, all alone but for the little greedy demon-kid against her chest who fed on her magical core hungrily.
She felt terribly weak, but she wasn’t afraid. Someway she knew Ben wouldn’t hurt her; she could sense him using her magic to purify his own and although that level of awareness from such a little boy should terrify her - it didn’t.
In spite of everything, this was only a child and his warmth reverberated throughout her body, making her to feel like if saving him was the most special thing she had never done.
CHAPTER TWO: FIRST IMPRESSIONS
For every parent leaving off their child the first day of school is always a trauma.
Victor Bennett was forced to admit to himself that he was been too young- or irresponsible- to feel like that when he had played the father to his three daughters.
Therefore, the sickening taste of guilt and fear over his adequacy which assailed him when he accompanied his younger grandson to Elementary School was a first, terrifying experience.
He liked to think his relationship with the little Chris was special, not only because it benefited from the encouraging connection he had tested with his older, unforgotten counterpart but also because after all his mistakes as parent, raising Chris felt like an undeserved reward.
He couldn’t- even in his wildest dreams-have imagined how amazing it was to feel this proud of a little person for every single, meaningless thing he did.
Victor tried every day to make up for the fact Piper and Leo weren’t there in his place, exactly as *he* wasn’t been there for Phoebe, Prue and Piper; sometimes he couldn’t help to feel like if a punishment reserved for him was been misdirected on the little boy he held so dear.
Somewhere along the way, he was learning to forget all this and to think of Chris as his own only.
It was frightening, although it was worth the adoring look on the Chris face when the small boy gazed up to him. And it was difficult, handling all this responsibility to deserve that wordless adoration, especially it meant to be honest if Chris came to him with strange questions like:
“Is my daddy went Upthere after he died? Will he come back?”
“Why has the magic died?”
“Is Wyatt the Boogie Man name, Grandpa?”
Little Chris’ head was full of confused fantasies, and when the small boy asked those question, often he did not know why… or he got scared because he didn’t understand why he already knew the answers. Victor wondered how long time had yet come to pass before all the pieces found their way to complete the puzzle.
The naked truth of his origins was tickling bomb set to destroy the innocence of his little boy, and Victor just hoped to be there to help when it happened.
“You must not go in right away, Chris. We can wait until you are ready”
The grandfather squeezed the minute hand of his grandchild as they stood in the Elementary school hallway.
Chris looked up with huge grey-green eyes and sing sang:
“Grandpa, I’m ready now!”
Victor swallowed forcibly the heavy lump in his throat and squeezed more tightly the Chris’ little fingers, reluctant to let them go.
Two simple words echoed in his mind: separation anxiety.
“Well, wait here two minutes then. I’ll have few words with your teacher”
Chris observed his new surroundings with wonder and curiosity. The school seemed too large, like if he could get lost if he got distracted even a moment.
He was aware of a vague feeling of fear as well, what if everybody there could see him and notice that there something weird about him? Even Chris felt that way about himself sometimes- like if he was a shoe put on the wrong feet, like if something inside him went amiss leaving him unfinished and incomplete.
He turned around when he heard somebody behind him giggling and he found himself face to face with a boy who was almost his mirror image.
Chris blinked and the other boy did the same, still slapping the hands of a little blonde girl at his side away from his bag.
The impression of similarity which had shocked Chris into silence faded away quickly: all what he had in common with the unknown newcomer was been their height and their dark hair.
The other boy had sharper features and a thinner, skinnier frame. What Chris was vaguely perturbed for was his eyes: they were a very dark shade of brown and stared him shamelessly.
Then a strange thing happened: a raven haired lady passed Chris by and suddenly the girl was falling right on him. Her hands were warm and fit perfectly into his as Chris helped her to her feet, before the other boy got the chance.
She smiled very brightly up at him and his whole body felt warm like her soft hands. He smiled back and all the apprehensions which had accompanied him until this moment -without he was aware of them- dissolved into nothing.
“ Thanks” she said shyly. Before Chris could answer *welcome*- like Grampa and the mother he didn’t quite remembered always insisted to- the other boy broke in confidently :
“What’s your name? ”
“I’m Chris. What about you?”
“My name is Ben Calloway- the other boy sillabed- and she is my cousin Bree. Do you want to be our friend?”
When Ben extended his hand to him, Chris couldn’t know what he would started by shaking it.
But the warmth he felt inside while he did it was the same he had experienced by touching the Bree’s hand. He felt a bit less weird about leaving Grampa now.
The lady who had him passed by so recently, giving him goosebumps before starting it all, was already forgotten.
Disclaimer: If I owned Charmed, Cole wouldn’t be dead, Chris would be the Heir, Bianca would be in more than one episode, and Coop wouldn’t have a reason to exist. Unfortunately I don’t, so I write this fic in a twisted attempt to compensate. Still, I definitely own Virginia Calloway, her niece Bree and –partly- Ben.
Summary: AU, POST Season 7. A Chris & Bianca story in essence. But also the tale of four friends who discovered a hero inside boy, a girl inside an assassin, a demon inside a witch, a lover inside a cousin.
[glow=red,2,300]
THE WITCHING HOUR[/glow]
Prologue: For every son lost, there’s a son found.
The sunset light filtering throughout the window‘s glass designed harshly the outline of his daughter’s figure as he kept the baby boy against his chest, his hands busying themselves to rub his back in soothing circles…he noticed that it was almost like if he was trying to warm up his grandson, when in fact it was himself who needed.
Everything had stopped making sense the moment Piper knocked on his door and put the little Christopher in his eager embrace, rushing on with mad suggestions about escapes, abandonment and difficult resolutions; now all he could feel was a sort of surreal detachment from whole scene. If it wasn’t been for the chilly, unnamed sensation inside him, Victor would be been sure he was dreaming.
Which was why he was mildly surprised to hear himself to talk with calm, even voice:
“I just can’t convince myself this is the right thing to do. There’s surely some other solution…”
“There’s nothing – his daughter interrupted him rashly- I do it for his sake. How do you think we can bring him with us, in a life of hiding, knowing we shall have focus on Wyatt every moment, to guard him against the evil which could corrupt him, and educating him to inherit Excalibur? Chris has already sacrificed too much and …”
The Piper’s mask of composure looked, for few seconds , ready to melt away in tears and sobs and Victor could swear she had never spoke about her second-born with so much emotion; but it took just as little to settle it back in place.
“Magic seeks always its balance Dad, if there’s a thing I’ve learned it’s that. The other Chris was just 22 years when he died. Even if he saved our future, there’s a chance he’s meant to …end his life prematurely. And I can’t be the mother he deserves if I look at him and think I’ll have him just for 22 years.”
Victor could read in her expression that she had not meant to reveal so much to him, even if this last reasoning was probably more to blame for her decision than all the rubbish she had wasted the past two hours to explain.
His mouth felt far too dry when he opened it again:
“Is it all what you think about, every time you hold Chris, a death sentence? It sounds so…”
“I can’t even hold him all that much!”
The brittle smile on oldest Charmed One‘s face felt and looked like a grimace, and yet it was vaguely liberating to let out the disgusting, shameful secret. One glance at Victor and she knew why she had she had vehemently denied it in front of Leo and her sisters - she wouldn’t be been able to withstand that disbelieving expression from them.
“I am weary of death and danger, Dad. I ‘m not strong enough to risk it. I can’t grow to love Chris and then lose him. Just now, l look at him and I feel nothing. It’s like if he wasn’t mine, like I was only going through the motions of being his mum and it kills me a little every day. I want to give him more than a life of being second best…. With his powers bound, he has a chance at a normal life and the only time I ever seen him happy, it was with you”
Victor didn’t know how break the silence which followed that admission. What could he say to a mother who refused to get emotionally attached to her son – his grandson- but still wanted to protect him from herself? Although he dreaded the idea, the man suspected that there was almost nothing he could add to dissuade her, if whole the plan was been already discussed and approved by her sisters and Leo.
For some reason, thinking about that particular discussion taking place made him to feel older than he had felt in long time.
“If something magical was to happen, I wouldn’t know to protect him.”
“You won’t need”
In silence, father and daughter studied each other again, both upset and stubborn.
“This is the only thing your family ever asked of you in twenty years. You owe us, dad”
Three months earlier, New Orleans
At the 3 AM, Virginia Calloway woke up drenched in cold sweat, her sheets sticky to her back. Her mind was still full of the horrible nightmare which tormented from weeks: she could still perceive the encompassing, empty darkness enveloping her, to hear a child’s cry coming from anywhere and everywhere at once, and then *that* voice , taunting her: “Go to him. Save him .If you ever wanted a child… ”
Even if Virginia came from an ancient, well- respected witching family, she was been blessed with only one, albeit rare, active birth-power, called *Discernment of Spirits * and even if her parents had always found it useless- specially when there was feud with the Montanans to cultivate- she was never been displeased with it.
It wasn’t just some “I see dead people” thing; It was even the ability to literally discern spirits, and know whether they originated from good or from evil, and it had always allowed her to fall sleep a little more serenely at the night.
Until a very recent encounter, at least.
“ Enough! – She screamed, looking frantically around the room –Are you listening me, damnit? I want being left alone! I don’t know why you are doing this but you‘ll do better to stop!”
In a blink, the familiar figure of tall, slender man took consistence from the shadows of her bedroom. Naturally, he wasn’t really material, but like many other souls forced to over in the bleak space between worlds called Limbo, he kept to hold on his mortal appearance – with his blue-green eyes ,raven hair, sensual mouth and roman profile, Virginia was forced to admit he was been handsome.
“Then help me, so I’ll leave””
There was just a touch of mockery in his soft, confident voice, but like every time it was the intensity of the despair she could read in his aura which drew her in.
His soul was blazing rainbow of contrasting passions(love and bitterness, hope and disappointment) but the hopelessness, the absence of any expectative so typical of the dimension he was struck in were wrapped around him like a thick, dark cloak . Yet Virginia could also see fierce, stubborn ties keeping him anchored to the mortal realm.
It was a beautiful and sad thing to observe. Too bad she was too angry to feel pity.
“It isn’t in my power to give you peace.”
“I don’t seek peace, but closure. I took ages to find someone with your power and now my son’s time is running out. I need you save him. ”
“Wait a moment - she said shaking her head- those images you sent in my dreams weren’t your doing?”
“No”
The admission unsettled her deeply. In those two months he had tormented her manipulating her dreams, it was been easy to resent him, to believe the spirit was playing on her personal weaknesses to win her cooperation, not unlike others which came before him: she had been certain he had someway known about the miscarriage of the only child she had never conceived, a tragic casualty in the eternal guerrilla warfare between Calloways and Montanas.
Her fairytale marriage to her mortal high school sweetheart had ended shortly after, in a traumatic explosion of blame and misunderstandings, cutting comments and petty, endless discussions, in spite of their attempt of leaving both the past and the magic behind by running from San Francisco.
Night after night, those horrible nightmares had shattered forever whatever fantasy Virginia had never entertained about being over that loss … and she had had no doubt about the purposefulness of them. But if she was been mistaken….
“Were you showing me what you see, what you feel?”
“I tried to get you to understand my… problem. I’ve been feeling my son growing weaker. He can feel me, and I can feel him a bit more every day. Perhaps I always could, but I was… distracted, I guess. I know he‘s been in this condition for long time. I believed him vanquished before I reached my actual state. ”
“Wait a second, here- Virginia interrupted him, her eyes narrowing in suspicion – I can tell you were not completely human. I wouldn’t get involved in reviving some demonic spawn and you are insane if you think you can convince me. ”
“His mother was a good witch, I was half-demon. This makes our child ¾ human. ¬¬¬”
The spirit explained with a rational, studied manner which belied the increasing urgency colouring his most recent admissions.
Chapter One : The Black Well
“ I have difficulty to see why vanquishing him would be been necessary ”
Virginia inquired, licking her lips self-consciously. In spite of her usual determination to not interfere with the journeys of trespassed souls, something about this one roused her interest.
Maybe it was just the fact she could relate to a parent’ regret, making her to want believe him, help him …. And this vulnerability only put her more on the edge about her guest’ possible intentions. It wasn’t like if she had not met any half-breeds who had turned out fine, but there was all the same a good reason to stay alert.
“ Let’s say it was a case of possession, before his …birth.”
“ Stop and rewind, mister: the mother was possessed but your son was vanquished ? Because frankly, I never heard about a malignant entity possessing an unborn child, unless they were one and the same ”
However barely noticeable, her trained eyes didn’t miss the uncurling of darker, almost black , folds of energy around the peripheral layer of his aura : they rose and merged easily, smoothing over in one harmonious wave, perfectly synchronic with the swift flaring and waning distaste in his expression. The fire in his gaze lived on, all the same.
It said a lot about him , the way he had contained his anger : this man was powerful, and possibly just as intense in his death as he was been during his mortal life, but he was also able of cool-headed focus.
His voice only filtered annoyance:
“ My son may not be entirely human, but his power was never used for Good or Evil : until he gets the chance his life is innocent, Virginia. Isn’t what a good witch does, protecting the Innocent? ”
“ You tell me if your wife - or lover, was one of us. ”
The guy argued like a lawyer, Virginia had to concede as much while she rubbed tiredly her eyes and suppressed a yawn.
“Explain me, Mr… have you a name or should come up with one myself for the durance of this conversation?”
For few seconds, the witch had no doubts about what her interlocutor was thinking: she could read his relief at her acceptance, his surprise to her question, the unexpected pleasure of answering it as simply as he was voicing them loudly. It was like if nobody had asked that question to him in far too long, and he had suddenly realized he still had a name and identity despite of that.
“You may call me Cole. – he paused, favouring her with an annoyingly superior half-smile while he seemingly savoured the moment some more - My name was Cole Turner”
Cole Turner…. To Virginia it sounded almost familiar. It was entirely possible she had heard of him within the Magical Community. But there would be more appropriate moment to investigate it.
“Tell me how your son would survive the exorcism, Cole.”
Cole crossed his arms and scratched his chin thoughtfully- it was almost funny how those ghosts maintained a human mannerism, even when they had hardly any sense of touch left- then he added shrugging:
“I’m not quite sure, because I was already dead when it happened. I know my wife was expecting a perfectly healthy baby boy when I was alive. Later I’ve tried to hold on her, without too success, and found myself struck in the Limbo. But I’m sure Ben- we would named him so, like my father- wasn’t here. During the exorcism, I’ve felt my connection to him splintering but the more I think about it, the more I convince myself he must have sensed the danger and shimmered. Probably the contact with a possessed host has triggered his development of a demonic form. By shifting into that, he managed to reach The Black Well and survive there until now ”
Virginia furrowed her brows “The Black Well?”
“It’s a vulgar name for the very core of the Underworld. His deepest, darkest part. No demon go never there because its energy is too volatile , but every dark creature would be attracted to it. Think of the Black Well like the gravity centre of the Underworld. When Ben accessed his shimmering power so prematurely, before having any experience of the material plane…It was the only place his senses would recognized as safe…He could only end up there ”
“But once there, he couldn’t leave it. He got himself struck like lead to a magnet”
Virginia guessed
“Exactly” Cole acquiesced “First the dark energy fed him, kept him alive even if in a vegetative state, but now it’s deteriorating his human part. His soul is closer to my same plane of existence with each passing day. We sense each other, and he seeks me instinctively. ”
The imagine of that lost child in the darkness crying for his father sprang to the witch’s memory with sudden, amazing clarity – no longer the memory of a nightmare, but a desperate plea from a dying little boy to a dead parent, from a powerless father to a distrusting stranger. Terrible.
Shaking herself from her reverie, she suggested:
“It makes sense as a theory. Your wife could know something more since she was there ‘in the flesh’ ”
Cole’s features hardened even while his gaze softened and Virginia could read faint hues of guilt and tenderness in his astral aura.
“Sadly, today I’m all the family Ben has”
Wonderful, even if they managed to miraculously save the baby’s life, the little one would be been an orphan.
“My book of shadows won’t be of much help in this matter. For obvious reasons, I don’t think my family had never had cause to deal with this Black Well”
“I didn’t count on it. I didn’t come to you for that” Cole assured, dismissing the mere idea with an unconcerned wave of his hand.
“Be careful, Cole. You are almost making it to sound like if you have a plan set in motion”
The half-demon bestowed on her an absent smile, assessing her with a certain satisfaction.
“I can conjure you where Ben is”
More than anything, Virginia hated being pulled blindly into another’s schemes. Still, she knew there was little other choice: anything Cole wanted to test with her would have a better chance of success during a full moon night like this one and she doubted her capacity of finding a solution of hers own.
All what she could trust in was Cole’s love for his son and uncommon capacity to interfere with the mortal world.
“Why have I the feeling there‘s a catch?”
“Because there’s one: The power I have is sufficient to bring you to Ben, but it will be only enough to keep there for a very short time if I must also bring you back. Then you will be on your own… I won’t even able to talk you until I recover the energy loss – It’ll take years probably. ”
“What should I do?”
“Close your eyes and open your mind to me”
Virginia breathed in deeply and followed his instructions, trying to suppress the anxiety roaring like a wild animal inside her. Eventually she managed to set it aside, and focused on the child she wanted to save.
She began feeling the Cole’s power as it tugged to her rawer senses, and surrendered to it; it wasn’t the first time she lived this experience of intimate contact with a spiritual being and the sensation of all what he was enveloping her completely relaxed her: his soul was tainted by love and grief , maybe remorse, but not Evil.
All too soon, the witch found herself lost inside the deeper darkness she had never known.
The feelings assaulting her hearth were disorienting: lust, anger and a vague desire for violence darted painfully inside her, pulling her brain toward different directions.
“Focus – Cole whispered inside her mind, surrounding her again with his presence-- Ben is before you. Take him, and then we will go. Don’t be scared. ”
Dazedly, Virginia looked around the bleak blackness, shuddering once more.
Finally she saw the child: Ben was a small vermillion creature sticking out in that endless night.
She kneed to take him and froze : two minute goat-like horns were on his bald, perfectly- rounded head and his newborn body was all wrinkles and hard edges, while his facial features were those of a common infant. His aura was strange… she could read no evil in it per se, but she could sense nothing but tasteless void.
“Take him!” Cole urged her on; reminding her they were on borrowed time.
Virginia obeyed immediately and as soon as the baby was in her arms the world around her dissolved, her thinking patterns became a fog of pain and confusion and everything took once more shape and dimension in front of her eyes.
‘Thank you, Virginia’ – it was Cole’s last murmur while his power brushed against her.
Then she was once more in her home, on her bed, all alone but for the little greedy demon-kid against her chest who fed on her magical core hungrily.
She felt terribly weak, but she wasn’t afraid. Someway she knew Ben wouldn’t hurt her; she could sense him using her magic to purify his own and although that level of awareness from such a little boy should terrify her - it didn’t.
In spite of everything, this was only a child and his warmth reverberated throughout her body, making her to feel like if saving him was the most special thing she had never done.
CHAPTER TWO: FIRST IMPRESSIONS
For every parent leaving off their child the first day of school is always a trauma.
Victor Bennett was forced to admit to himself that he was been too young- or irresponsible- to feel like that when he had played the father to his three daughters.
Therefore, the sickening taste of guilt and fear over his adequacy which assailed him when he accompanied his younger grandson to Elementary School was a first, terrifying experience.
He liked to think his relationship with the little Chris was special, not only because it benefited from the encouraging connection he had tested with his older, unforgotten counterpart but also because after all his mistakes as parent, raising Chris felt like an undeserved reward.
He couldn’t- even in his wildest dreams-have imagined how amazing it was to feel this proud of a little person for every single, meaningless thing he did.
Victor tried every day to make up for the fact Piper and Leo weren’t there in his place, exactly as *he* wasn’t been there for Phoebe, Prue and Piper; sometimes he couldn’t help to feel like if a punishment reserved for him was been misdirected on the little boy he held so dear.
Somewhere along the way, he was learning to forget all this and to think of Chris as his own only.
It was frightening, although it was worth the adoring look on the Chris face when the small boy gazed up to him. And it was difficult, handling all this responsibility to deserve that wordless adoration, especially it meant to be honest if Chris came to him with strange questions like:
“Is my daddy went Upthere after he died? Will he come back?”
“Why has the magic died?”
“Is Wyatt the Boogie Man name, Grandpa?”
Little Chris’ head was full of confused fantasies, and when the small boy asked those question, often he did not know why… or he got scared because he didn’t understand why he already knew the answers. Victor wondered how long time had yet come to pass before all the pieces found their way to complete the puzzle.
The naked truth of his origins was tickling bomb set to destroy the innocence of his little boy, and Victor just hoped to be there to help when it happened.
“You must not go in right away, Chris. We can wait until you are ready”
The grandfather squeezed the minute hand of his grandchild as they stood in the Elementary school hallway.
Chris looked up with huge grey-green eyes and sing sang:
“Grandpa, I’m ready now!”
Victor swallowed forcibly the heavy lump in his throat and squeezed more tightly the Chris’ little fingers, reluctant to let them go.
Two simple words echoed in his mind: separation anxiety.
“Well, wait here two minutes then. I’ll have few words with your teacher”
Chris observed his new surroundings with wonder and curiosity. The school seemed too large, like if he could get lost if he got distracted even a moment.
He was aware of a vague feeling of fear as well, what if everybody there could see him and notice that there something weird about him? Even Chris felt that way about himself sometimes- like if he was a shoe put on the wrong feet, like if something inside him went amiss leaving him unfinished and incomplete.
He turned around when he heard somebody behind him giggling and he found himself face to face with a boy who was almost his mirror image.
Chris blinked and the other boy did the same, still slapping the hands of a little blonde girl at his side away from his bag.
The impression of similarity which had shocked Chris into silence faded away quickly: all what he had in common with the unknown newcomer was been their height and their dark hair.
The other boy had sharper features and a thinner, skinnier frame. What Chris was vaguely perturbed for was his eyes: they were a very dark shade of brown and stared him shamelessly.
Then a strange thing happened: a raven haired lady passed Chris by and suddenly the girl was falling right on him. Her hands were warm and fit perfectly into his as Chris helped her to her feet, before the other boy got the chance.
She smiled very brightly up at him and his whole body felt warm like her soft hands. He smiled back and all the apprehensions which had accompanied him until this moment -without he was aware of them- dissolved into nothing.
“ Thanks” she said shyly. Before Chris could answer *welcome*- like Grampa and the mother he didn’t quite remembered always insisted to- the other boy broke in confidently :
“What’s your name? ”
“I’m Chris. What about you?”
“My name is Ben Calloway- the other boy sillabed- and she is my cousin Bree. Do you want to be our friend?”
When Ben extended his hand to him, Chris couldn’t know what he would started by shaking it.
But the warmth he felt inside while he did it was the same he had experienced by touching the Bree’s hand. He felt a bit less weird about leaving Grampa now.
The lady who had him passed by so recently, giving him goosebumps before starting it all, was already forgotten.