Hey, so this is my first ever Charmed fic! just a little drabble about future Leo hope you like and REVIEW!!

Apollo's Gift

"Voices in the wind's singing, more distant and sollem

than a fading star."

T.S Elliot, the Hollow Men

The iron is cold beneath his feet and the moon is cold too- cold and bright; as though something is missing from it's edge. The wind is like a river around him and his body a stone, causing little eddies and ripples.

In the dark place behind his eyes, he can hear voices on the wind. The city's backchat, the lights of the little cars, the wails of the sirens and the hum of the base in the clubs.

He wraps the sound up. Covers it. Remembers. Remembers when this was real.

San Fransisco has been silent for a long time now. Curfew begins with the setting of the sun. There is stillness; in the boarded up houses and the car wrecks in the street. At night, there is death here, between the shadows and cracked pavements.

And Leo remembers. Leo remembers.

He loved a woman once, a long time ago now. Loved her, like the sun loves the moon. For reflecting the light back, making it brighter by comparison.

She propelled him to a greatness that could never have been his own. She let him go, even when she did not want to and for this he has loved her. Loves her still, even years after she has gone.

The immortal shouldn't love the mortal. The sun shouldn't love the moon. It is why this city is dead.

Their child had the power of a sun. And he was bright and blessed and beautiful.

So much so, Leo could not bare to see him fall.

Their first born was special and prophesied and captivating .

So much so, that sometimes Leo forgot he had a brother who was softer and darker and quieter.

Leo was a good elder and a good whitelighter. But he wasn't always a good husband and he wasn't always a good father.

And somewhere along the way he forgot the power of the moon. That it can call the ocean and die every month only return, again and again.

It might have been when his wife died and he lost his last earthly touch stone.

It might have been when he lost his eldest; because he was like the sun, and power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

And now the city is dead, like his wife. And the moon is cold, cold, like his youngest, whom he forgot about too often.

And Leo stands on a broken bridge and remembers; remembers a warmer moon. Until the wind carries the memories away.

fin


so, Please tell me what you think!