So this story takes place in 2029, but with lots of flash backs to earlier years. It's basically about the whole family and lots of different stuff.
PS- don't think I've forgotten about A Strange Kinda Time Loop if you read that, my mind just wandered to other places during in the summer, but there'll be an update soon.
Enjoy and please review even if you hate it lol! xoxox
A Hard Rain's A Gonna Fall:
If a city were a piece of music, that cool morning of the 27th of January 2029, would have been the gentle, but ever more increasing humming of the base line: the soft introduction that anticipated the imminent crescendo; telling the world that San Francisco was waking up to another day. The sun rose lazily in the sky, casting a yawning pink tinge over the chilled grey horizon and the dark, angular silhouettes of the city's financial district faded gradually from solid outlines to lenient, more detailed structures, their electric bulbs snapping off one by one as light flooded their rooms, bouncing off glass window panes and glistening in the cool morning air.
Far below the shimmering rooftops, a solitary figure sat alone in a deserted bus station. Hunched over and bundled up against the cold, the body remained motionless. Only the hollow rhythm of breathing causing a small rise and fall beneath the layers of dark clothing, and empty, unseeing eyes gazed dully outwards, barely blinking. If another human had chanced to skulk by, they would have seen that the girl's mind was detached from her body, floating off in some other world, a dreamlike, nightmarish world, dogged with the weight of tragedy. Any stranger would have thought that girl was an empty, absent shell of a person. But, had she been observed by anyone who knew her, they would recognise that the distant eyes were only making room for something else: in the privacy of her own mind, the girl was indeed existing in a world of her own, a world created with the building blocks of subtle vibrations, invisible sounds, a world swamped with musical notes and snippet phrases of lyrics that illustrated her thoughts and reminded her bitterly of the childhood she had lost and the life that no longer belonged to her. The music filled the empty void of her body with the sounds that had been stripped from her ears forever, precious compositions that could never be rekindled. As her thoughts vibrated through her body, their increasing intensity welled up and a single tear slipped from her eye and slid silently down her cheek.
Now resenting her lack of self control and tendency to give public displays of emotion, the girl reached up, disgusted with herself, and slapped the droplet from her cheek. But she didn't have time to dwell on her loss of composure because her ears tuned into the rattling of approaching metal and the hum of an engine. Getting heavily to her feet, she picked up the two bulky items lying on the ground, swinging her oversized backpack onto her shoulder and clutching her precious guitar case in her hand, the girl stepped forward to be greeted by the hissing of doors. She heaved herself upwards onto the craft that would carry her away from the place that she thought she could never call home again.
Somewhere on the other side of the city, Piper Halliwell stirred in her bed. Her head lolled, but her eyes remained shut, resisting for a moment the state of consciousness that compelled her from her sleep and into the stale day that awaited her. Not wanting to linger too long in one place, for fear that her unoccupied mind might dwell on thoughts she's rather shut away, she lifted the covers from her body and padded across the bedroom floor to her wardrobe. Dressing quickly she made her way to the door, trying in a vain attempt, to avoid catching a glimpse of herself in her dressing table mirror. Unfortunately, her eyes caught the eyes of her reflection and stopped her dead in her tracks.
Gazing at herself in the glass, she saw a gracious, elegant woman of fifty-six, her long hair, now a silvery grey, formed a protective blanket around a face engraved with deep wrinkles that mapped out her emotional journey through life. She studied her features for a moment, absorbing each tiny detail in way she had never done before.
But as her eyes moved across the surface of the glass, they were distracted by a photograph tucked into the wooden frame. Sighing deeply, she reached out and plucked it from its home. Her chest tightened as her eyes rested on the three people depicted in it, although she knew that picture by heart, confronting it in reality was beyond any pain she could anticipate. It was a picture taken some thirty years ago, when she herself had been twenty seven and expecting her first child. She sat between her two younger sisters, her stomach bulging, all three were smiling broadly, their faces radiating joy. It sliced Piper's heart to know that she would never feel that pure, uninhibited joy ever again. Too much had been ripped away from her.
She stared for a moment longer at the image, studying each of her sister's in turn. First, Phoebe: her dark, fashionable hairstyle framed her sleek features, and a warm and honest, but wonderfully subtle smile flittered across her sophisticated face. Then herself, the broad grin and sparkling eyes, reminded her of the burst of laughter that she had let out at the very moment that the shutter was pressed. And finally, Paige: childlike joy, rosy cheeks, honey golden hair and rich brown eyes brought so much life to her baby sister's face that for a moment she seemed animated and Piper was convinced she saw her sister give a cheeky wink in her direction. But, of course, she knew this was not true, and never would be again, because Paige, like her treasured elder sister Prue, lay stiff and cold in a dingy hole in the ground, the warmth and vitality extinguished from her body forever.
Heaving one last sigh, Piper dropped the photo onto the polished wooden surface of the dresser and headed down the stairs to the silent kitchen, to do the only thing she felt she knew how- make breakfast for the extended family that would soon be descending on her, their rock. After Paige's death, no-one had felt much like cooking, except Piper to whom it was a blissful escapism, so at every meal time, her sister, nieces, nephew and two brothers in law, as well as her own husband and children, would gather together in true Halliwell solidarity to consume a sombre meal that, despite Piper's exceptional culinary skill, tasted like sawdust to every person.
She glanced at the clock, 8am, Phoebe would be here by half past. She thought about what her sister would be doing now: dressing, drinking coffee, reading her email, nagging her husband to feed the cat and her youngest daughter to tidy her bedroom, day to day activities that filled her waking hours, carried out with a numbness that Piper knew all too well. As she rhythmically beat eggs into a mixing bowl, Piper's mind wandered to the rest of her family, scattered across the city, confined in small apartments or rattling around in a now practically uninhabited family home, all undoubtedly feeling the same as she did. Her thoughts rested on her widower brother in law and his three bereaved children, a son, Henry Jr and two twin daughters, Erin and Olivia, Paige's beloved family. A subconscious smile flittered across her face as she remembered the moment Paige had discovered she would be a mom for the first time:
In true Paige style, she wasn't at the hospital because she was showing any of the normal symptoms of pregnancy, no, Paige was at the hospital because she had super glued Wyatt's model 747 to her hand and no amount of whitelighter healing would fix it. But it wasn't until Paige started having an allergic reaction to the glue, that she gave in to Piper's lecture and accepted a ride to the ER department.
So, perched on the edge of the doctor's table, Paige had politely answered the routine questions thrown at her by the nurse: 'Was she on any medication?"
"No."
"Was she, as far as she was aware, allergic to any drugs?"
"No."
"Could you be pregnant Ms Matthews."
"Eeer, don't think so" Paige paused now that it was mentioned, she couldn't remember if she'd had a period the previous month... or the month before that. Piper saw her bite her lip.
"Paige?"
"You don't sound very sure Ms Matthews, just to be on the safe side, we'll do a test, the drugs we want to administer could be dangerous to a foetus, so we'll just check you out shall we?" Piper had sat, holding Paige's hand (the hand without the jet plane attached to it) as the nurse wheeled in a sonogram machine. She had shared her baby sister's joy as sound of a tiny heartbeat flooded into the room and had kissed her forehead as the nurse announced that Paige was nine weeks along and due in September. And bang on time, six months later, Paige had given birth to a healthy little boy. Piper laughed at that, Henry Jr was far from a small child, weighing in at 9lbs 2oz at birth, he was an enormous baby, and now at twenty two, it was clear that he had started as he meant to go on.
Piper was brought out of her daydream by the very same Henry appearing in front of her, swaddled in blue lights. "Hey Aunt Piper."
"Somebody's ears were burning," she murmured.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking about you- when you were a baby." She looked up, meeting her nephew's eye. It took a lot of courage for Piper to look at Paige's children now, as much as she loved them, they were a painful reminder of the sister she had lost. Henry's resemblance to his mother was uncanny, although he had inherited his father's height and broad, muscular figure, his complexion, eyes and rich chocolate hair were undoubtedly Paige's. "You know, I've never seen anybody so happy as your Mom on the day you were born." She reached over the counter and gripped Henry's hand. Her nephew tensed and released his eyes from his aunt's gaze.
"Yeah, well..." he muttered, "she deserved to be that happy, it's not like she got much chance to celebrate when the twins were born."
Piper forced a smile. "Trust Erin to cause a drama from the word Go."
Like their older brother, the twins had been due in September. But on a warm summer evening in mid August, Piper had received a frantic phone call from Henry telling her that he was in hospital with Paige who had gone into premature labour and could she please come and pick up Henry Jr. Piper remembered vividly the wavering terror in Henry's voice and the panic it had instilled in the entire family.
Piper's car screeched to a halt in the hospital parking lot, slamming the door, she raced through the entrance signposted with the directions Henry had given her. The slap of her flat shoes on the sterile hospital floor echoed through the eerily quiet corridor. As she grew closer to Paige's room a wailing met her ears, growing louder as she grew closer, on opening the door she was met by Henry, desperately trying to sooth a hysterical two year old and calm his frantic wife. Henry Jr's face was screwed up in a raw, red bundle, he hiccupped and spluttered uncontrollably as piercing wails radiated from his child sized lungs, causing his chest to rise and fall in bumpy gulping movements. Piper took the child from his father and nestled his sweat drenched head on her shoulder, she gently stroked her nephew's back, trailing her hand up and down his spine, all the while cooing softly in his burning red ear. But the boy could not calm himself, he had clearly tuned into the tension and fear, not to mention the agony his mother was in. As Paige's latest contraction subsided she managed to let out a small stuttering whisper: "sing to him Piper, he loves the sound of singing."
So Piper began to sing, stilted, desperate notes, rattled awkwardly from her lips, the words to every childlike song she could think of. "...Hush little baby, don't say a word, Auntie's gonna buy you a... ring, a ring of roses, a pocket full of poses, a tissue a tissue we all fall... down came the rain and washed the spider..."
"No- he doesn't like songs like that, pass him to me."
"But Paige you can't-"
"I'll be fine Piper," she said, heaving herself up to a firmer sitting position. So Piper placed her nephew in his mother's lap and Paige rocked him gently back and fourth, all the while humming a soft melody into his ear. And miraculously, the child quietened, his hiccupping subsided and his body, exhausted from all the crying, became limp, his head lolling against his mother's chest, Piper watched as his eye- lids grew heavy and within ten minutes Henry had drifted off to sleep. Paige smiled and gestured to her sister to take the sleeping child from her. "He doesn't like any of that nursery school garbage; my child has taste, try a little bit of Bob Dylan next time eh?" She winked and Piper chuckled, but the moment was short lived as Paige was gripped by another paralysing contraction. Piper took this as her cue to exit, kissing her baby sister on the forehead and whispering that she loved her, then hugging Henry and telling him to call as soon as he could, she left the hospital and returned to the Manor where she, Phoebe, Leo and Coop waited anxiously.
Five hours later, they had received a phone call that caused their blood to freeze. Paige had given birth to two little girls, four weeks premature. The first, Olivia was healthy, weighing 7lbs, she was being kept in mainly as routine, considering her early birth. The second, Erin was tiny, only 4lbs and small enough to rest in Henry's cupped hands. During her delivery, she had got the chord tangled around her neck and the doctors were unsure of how long she had been starved of oxygen. Both Paige and Erin would be retained in the hospital for some time. Erin would be incubated and kept under close surveillance. Henry's voice trembled as he told Piper the news, Erin's recovery was not optimistic and the doctors where unsure of the consequences of the oxygen deprivation.
For the next five weeks, Paige never left her daughter's side, she was wheeled into the special unit every morning and sat by the little box, her hand reaching through the small hole and resting on the tiny, pink hand of her daughter. Once, Piper had walked in, to find her sister with her face pressed against the plastic so that her breath made a soft white cloud against the hard surface. As Piper approached she heard the murmur of Paige's husky voice. "Paige?"
"Sssh- look Piper, she likes it." Piper placed a hand on Paige's shoulder as she continued to whisper through the transparent barrier.
"Then take me disappearing' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow."
"You're just determined to force that singer on all your children aren't you?" smiled Piper.
Paige shrugged, "she likes it. Olivia hasn't taken to it though, she prefers songs from the musicals. 'I Dreamed a Dream' it her favourite."
"You tell these stories like it was yesterday Aunt Piper. How do you remember it all so clearly?"
"You learn to hold onto the memories, one day they'll be all you have left."
"They are all I have left."
"I'm sorry Henry, I didn't mean-"
"Its fine Aunt Piper, we're all in the same boat here... Those pancakes smell delicious! The others are missing out. Where are they all?"
In another far flung corner of San Francisco, Olivia was combing her long chestnut hair. She was back in her old bedroom, in the house she had grown up in. It looked the same as it always had, only slightly barer, stripped of it's 'lived in' feel after two years without an occupant: the bookshelves were close to empty and there were fewer keepsakes and clutter, but her old 'Gone with Wind' poster still hung above her single bed and her battered rag doll, Cecily (named after the character in her favourite childhood play, The Importance of Being Earnest) still sat tidily on the little arm chair. Sitting on her freshly made bed and gazing out of the window, Olivia continued to run the brush through her silky hair. Being well presented had always been important to her. She had never been obsessed with layers of make up and being dressed up to the nines for a trip to the supermarket, but she had always taken care of her appearance. It made her feel in control if everything was pristine and organised. This was just one of the many traits that set her apart so distinctly from her twin.
Erin was everything Olivia wasn't. At least, that was how Olivia saw it. She never stopped to think that she might be everything Erin wasn't as well. Erin was a colourful, bold and temperamental character who seemed to make an impression on everybody all the time. She seemed to have all the distinct characteristics that Olivia thought she lacked, and everybody called her a combination of her aunts Prue and Phoebe. Erin, thought Olivia resentfully, was 'the special one,' she was unique, and from the day they were born, it was Erin who had demanded all the attention. Olivia, being the quiet, easygoing and reliable one had learnt to fade into the background and let her sister take centre stage.
The contrast between the twins was so vast that it had taken kids at their junior high two whole semesters to figure out that the two were infact related. The girls didn't even look alike. Erin was small and elflike, with dark hair and deep brown eyes, Olivia was taller, slender, but she wasn't small like her sister, she was 5'7" in height and her shoulders were broader, she didn't have dark hair like the rest of her family, instead, her hair was a pale brown and her eyes were a piercing blue, "a recessive gene", her mother had once stated. If it weren't for the ivory skin that she alone seemed to have inherited from Paige, Olivia would be able to find no resemblance to her family at all.
This had caused her some secret identity crises at times, struggling to find her place in her bubbly, vivacious family. But of course, she never let anyone see this: Olivia was the master of bottling her emotions and smiling her way through life. This, she had concluded was quite possibly the reason her parents seemed to devote nearly all their time to Erin, trusting Olivia to get on with life without any real need for parental interference. So why was it that she was the only sibling to care enough about her dad to move back home after her mother's death?
Getting up from her seat, she made her way out of her room and headed towards the stairs. As she did so, she passed Erin's bedroom, glancing in, she rolled her eyes- even in her 14 month absence from the house, Erin still managed to wreak havoc and make her presence known. Olivia continued on, resisting the urge to spite her sister by trespassing in her bedroom and folding her clothes into neat, colour coded piles.
Instead, she found herself in her family living room. It was a spacious room, painted white and with stripped floor boards covered by a large rug. A black leather couch (her father's choice) stood in the centre of the room, but it was covered in artistic looking cushions in rich shades on turquoise and purple (her mother's compromise on the macho couch.) There were other hints of Paige in the room, two of her paintings hung on the wall, motionless photographs stood, suspended in time in quirkily coloured picture frames and the pot plant that her mother had nurtured to a redwood as her own way of quenching her empty nest syndrome, still caused a challenging obstacle to entering the room.
The whole room felt like Paige, but in the far corner stood the starkest reminder: the battered old piano, scattered with pieces of sheet music that Paige had been intending to play, cast a heavy shadow on the otherwise cheerful room. Normally, it hurt Olivia to look at it, her mom had loved that piano, and she had loved it too. They were the only two in the family who could play and they would often sit for hours, playing duets and singing along to songs they both loved.
Olivia ran her fingers along the length of the yellowing keys. The notes splashed out into the silent room, cutting through the stillness, it made her skin tingle- the sound of all those flats played one after the other was such a haunting, empty sound.
The piano hadn't been played in over six months, not since Paige became too tired to go downstairs. But there was still a book of sheet music on the stand, Olivia glanced at it- Les Miserables, and the book was open on her favourite song- I Dreamed a Dream, the song her mother would sing to her as a baby. Feeling drawn by some unknown magnetic field, she perched herself elegantly on the edge of the Piano stool, her fingers pressed lightly on the keys and she began to press down on the notes, forcing life back into the fossilised instrument. As she regained her confidence, her fingers began to dance across the keys and with the passion reinstalled within her, words began to spill out of her mouth, singing along in a powerful and perfectly tuneful voice. She savoured each word as, with each line, she was transported back into the world she loved. As her mind became absorbed by the music, Olivia could have sworn she felt a light brushing of the palm of her hand.
"No- listen, you're playing to too fast, you need to hold that there for a moment. And keep the pedal on for that phrase there!"
"Mom, this is too hard."
"No it's not, you can do it, just keep trying, and you'll get there eventually. Do you want me to sing along with you, to help you keep in time?"
"Yes please!" Olivia loved to duet with her mom. She was thirteen and for the past seven years, her mother had been teaching her to play the piano and all the songs that she had sung with her as a little girl. They now sat down and played together as well as singing. Their voices sailed through the house, sliding into every nook and cranny until Erin or Henry Jr would appear at the top of the stairs, complaining of the 'racket' and 'why couldn't they at least play some real music?' But today, both her siblings were out with friends and her dad was working, Olivia and Paige had the house to themselves and they were taking full advantage.
Paige nudged her daughter's hip, urging her to make room on the piano stool. She sat down and tucked a strand of Olivia's hair behind her ear. "Come on, let's rock this bitch!"
"MOM!"
"What?" Paige laughed, "I used to be cool once you know. Don't look at me like that, I wasn't always forty five you know! Stop giggling! At one time I wasn't unlike Erin."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah!"
"Bet you weren't as stroppy though."
"Wanna put money on that?" Paige winked and Olivia giggled. "Right missy- get exercising those fingers. Another twenty minutes and then we'll dig out the rest of Aunt Piper's casserole for lunch. Sound like a deal?"
"Only if you throw in ice cream as well."
And so for the rest of the day, and almost every Sunday after that, Olivia and her mother had enjoyed a few happy hours together at the Piano.
"That was really beautiful honey, your mom would've been proud." Olivia whirled around, Henry was leaning on the doorframe.
"Dad. How long have you been stood there?" She pulled herself up from the stool and crossed the room to wrap her arms around her father.
"Long enough... it's so nice to hear some music back in this house, it's too quite these days."
"You used to complain non stop about the racket we all used to make."
"Yeah... well... let's call it a case of Stockholm syndrome shall we." He gave a hollow laugh but his daughter noticed the pained frown that darted across the deep furrows of his forehead. She looked up into her Henry's eyes, they were still the same as they had always been but now they were outlined with crows feet, the tell tale sign of his years. His hair too was now grey and he had grown a short, stubbly beard in the same shade. Olivia reached up and ran her smooth palm across his stubbly chin, he wrapped his strong arms around her and squeezed her tight.
"Come on," she said, "I'll orb us over to the Manor, Aunt Piper's blueberry pancakes will do us the world of good!" And the pair vanished, leaving the house still and silent once more.