Redemption

An Overview

He was one of the greatest demons in history; they were two of the most powerful witches ever know. Can they join together and save this nightmare world from " The Darkness " ?

Floating...just a sensation, a feeling. Wait. I could FEEL! I willed my eyes open and saw grey tendrils wisping passed my face. At first the silence, the lack of ALL sound, was disconcerting, but soon, with a bit of concentration and time to adjust, I began to HEAR.

Have you ever listened to voices, or even noises in a fog? The ears begin to play tricks on your other senses, and you can't, no matter how hard you try, truly hear where they are coming from. They waft around on a plane of their own, teasing, tempting those so desperate for the security of another presence. The ability to SEE is so important to those with even a drop of humanity in them.

The floating sensation stopped and I cautiously placed my feet on a soft yet unseen surface. All around me the greyness swirled and I heard the voices. Louder now, yet sweet; a yearning began in me. Contact, even with those in Limbo, was what I now thirsted for. How much time had passed? How long had I drifted after my visit to a dying Piper, a visit that drained me of what little human power I had left?

I stumbled onward, not seeing anything, not even my own form when I dared look down. All I knew was that I had to find the place where the voices were. Now and then I passed through others lost in that damnable mist. The cold shock of spectral contact stayed with me, increasing my alarm until my heart beat a frantic tattoo against my ribs.

I couldn't do it! I couldn't find them! Somehow I knew that if I found those voices, so long for, I would be whole again. I sank to the soft ground and despaired.

Thoughts swirled, memories teased and taunted; a big brick house set in a park of rolling green lawns and blooming flowers. A woman, dark hair and eyed, yet with skin like alabaster and a slender, delicate figure. A long lavender dress that floated in the breeze, a man, big and hearty with mutton chops that tickled my toddler skin as he held me close and laughed. The woman laughed, too, and he looked at her with eyes filled with unbearable tenderness and love.

Then later, the woman transformed, the lithesome figure one of awesome power, the eyes red and glaring. The man, the man who loved me so very much dropping to the ground with a cry, to lay there silent and unmoving.

Many different rooms, each shabbier than the last. Men in robes poking at me, praising the offspring of the high-level demoness, Elizabeth. I would be trained, taught by Raynor, the great mentor, personally. For Elizabeth...

Elizabeth. My mother. The author of my life's work. For Mother failed in her Life Assignment, and it was up to me to fulfill it. If I didn't...

Two golden soul vials, held in a gnarled fist with claws for nails. Muted pleas and then screams of unimaginable pain emanated from the tiny, flashing containers. In order to release my parents souls, to allow them eternal peace, I Cole Turner, must fulfill the work at which my mother had failed.

My mentor, my teacher, Raynor; the father I had never had, the father I was forced to kill in order to keep someone even more precious in my life.

Phoebe Halliwell. A Charmed One, a witch of great power. Where was she now? What time was it? What DATE?!

I had to find the voices. I had to know why I had been awakened. For this was Limbo, and one stayed in their unconscious state until it was their time to be judged.

Or, until they were needed to perform a special task. Or...

It was their fate to undergo the great rite of Redemption

San Francisco 2026

" Ow! " Chris Halliwell yelped as his brother, Wyatt, grabbed his bandaged arm and pulled him threw the crack in the stone wall.

" Stop being a wuss. " Wyatt grumbled, leading the way down the ill-lit spiral stairs until they reached a grey door that blended into the concrete.

" It's broke in two places! " Chris snitted back, " Not to mention the bullet wound! "

" You haven't shut UP about the damn bullet wound for an hour! " Wyatt snarled back in a soft voice, and then gave the coded knock on the door. In a few seconds, a black man in a wheelchair opened the door enough for the two men to slip through and then watched as Wyatt waved his hand, whispering an incantation. The door flared green for an instant and then returned to it's dirty grey color.

Darryl Morris grinned from his chair, his one eye sparkling as Chris handed him the backpack.

" I always feel better knowing you two are in here rather than out there. What's new on the streets? "

Darryl began emptying the backpack of the meager amounts of food the Halliwell brothers had managed to procure as Wyatt tended to his wounded brother and answered Darryl in a somber voice.

" Another " Cleansing " today. One hundred witches and whitelighters burned. Chris fought two guys for the scrawny old rooster you're holding there and ended up with this arm. "

" OUCH! Will you pay ATTENTION to what you're doing?! " Chris yowled as Wyatt yanked off the temporary bandage. He threw it aside and pointed a finger at his younger brother's nose.

" You open your mouth again, and I'll shoot you myself. Just shut it! "

Chris shook his head, mouthing " asshole " for Darryl's amusment, but stood quietly as Wyatt used his healing powers. As the golden glow faded away, Chris sighed and flexed the arm.

" Thanks. " Chris said, a grin on his face.

" Welcome. " Wyatt smiled back and then the two threw their arms around each other, hugging tight.

" Be more careful. " Wyatt whispered.

" Can't lose you, either. " Chris answered and Darryl beamed. After the loss of his own family in a " Cleansing " these two boys were his whole life...

" Whoa! " Darryl said, as the brothers broke apart, each punching the other in the back or arm, " I almost forget, your father stopped in! "

Wyatt sauntered to the old ice box that barely cooled anything and pulled out three juice packs. He tossed one at Chris who caught it easily, but opened Darryl's personally with a tenderness and concern that belayed his hardened exterior.

Leaning against the old table he answered Darryl.

" Well, Blessed-Fuckin'-Be. What's new in Cloud-Land? "

Chris choked back his laughter, but Darryl glared, bringing scarred hands up to his face to fix the eye patch that covered the empty socket.

" I know he's changed since your Mom..." Darryl's voice trailed off. He had loved the Halliwell sisters, The Charmed Ones. They were like blood to him, and having them gone, taken, whatever, just broke his heart.

Chris finished his juice and began to load the little cache of food into the old ice box. " He changed before Mom...left. He was more an Elder than a Father while I was growing up. "

" Doesn't matter. " Darryl said, his voice strong again, " He's your Father, and you respect that, you hear? Your Mother and your Aunts would want you to do that. "

Chris was in his mid-twenties, but somehow Darryl could still make him feel like a little kid. Wyatt, on the other hand, had no respect for a man who couldn't handle the hard times, and fled this world when it needed him most.

But, Darryl was family, loved and respected by both men. It would be a cold day in the Underworld before Wyatt Halliwell caused this man he loved any more distress than necessary.

" Okay, I'm sorry. " Wyatt said, although his jaw was set and there was no grin on his hewned features. " What did he want? "

Darryl wheeled himself to the sink that gave rusty looking water up grudgingly and washed his scarred and shriveled hands. When he finally turned around he had an almost serene look on his face. A look of Hope that had been missing for ten years.

" He's got someone who wants to help. Someone magical, powerful. Someone to who'll help you and your friends find and defeat this " Darkness " that hangs over us. Someone who'll stop the fighting and the shooting and the damn burnings of special people! "

" What? " Chris asked, a skeptical look on his too-thin face, " The second coming? "

Darryl grinned broadly, " Exactly. A second coming, but not from the Heavens, kid. From your past. Our past. "

" Who? " Wyatt asked, now curious and strangely apprehensive. Something was about to happen, something BIG. He knew it, he could feel it.

" Cole's back. " Darryl said, the fire still present in his eyes and voice. " He's had a " Cleansing " of his own. "

" A REDEMPTION? " Chris whispered, awestrucked. He exchanged an incredulous look with Wyatt. Redemption don't just happen. In fact, the last one was over twenty years ago. To convert a being of evil, to give him powers of both sides and the will, the need to do right to redeem himself, was a task not undertaken lightly. It was brutal, soul-breaking and often times fatal. That Cole had survived and was ready to join them amazed Chris Halliwell. It was almost beyond belief.

" No. " Wyatt said, ruffling his untrimmed hair. " No way. The chances of his Redemption holding is less than zero! "

Darryl nodded, " That's what your Father told him. And, do you know what Cole said? "

Without waiting for an answer from either young man he concluded his revelation.

" He said, " Impossible Odds? I love a Challenge. " "

Darryl wheeled towards the icebox. " C'mon, let's get that rooster ready for cooking. "