So haven't written in a long time and I wanted to test this out. Please tell me what you all think. By the way this story (all character, plots, and anything else having to do with what I wrote) belongs to me Randomneshurtsmyhead. Thanks and I hope you enjoy.
Prologue
October 4th 1997
Saturday Afternoon
Wind wafted gently through the graveyard, spreading the smell of lilacs and lilies. Charlie was standing just outside the fence of the cemetery. No one but the preacher was speaking. He heard no sobs, no real mourning. A cloud of red hair stood around the casket, like a ring of mushrooms, surrounded by friends.
Bowing his head, Charlie thought of his younger sister. A streak of blond hair, hazel eyes, and a cheeky smile whenever she was caught doing something wrong; which was rare since she was seldom caught. She was a match. Laura would want something and like a match she would begin a bright flame, only to flicker and die.
Her eighth birthday she, along with her brothers, had gone onto a quest with their father. It was her first job; the joy in her eyes vivid as a twinkling star. Laura, Bill, Charlie, and their father had walked into the Louvre a happy family, and walked out with thirty million more reasons to be happier. It was a high like no other; the thrill of the game. For thieves that played the respectable game, it was all for the chase. From the moment Laura had pulled off her first heist, it was clear that she too was truly a con artist, just like the rest of the Halliwell clan.
Years passed; Charlie, Laura, and Bill continued to grow, and with them their legends expanded. Soon the family name was well earned. There was no other crew like the Halliwell's crew. A crew consisting of the Blackthorns clan, O'Brien clan, Halliwell clan, as well as the Gray clan had almost no competition.
All of it changed one night. Laura had gone off on her own, trying to prove that she could pull a con off on her own. It was certainly stressful being the only lady among a family of con men. So the following nights, she planned out her job to the very last detail. She had forgotten one important aspect though. Maxwell Winters. Dressed in her stolen blue lace ball gown, and pale gold jewels, she was a vision of beauty. Her aim was not to be missed, and she most certainly was not. A forged invitation, charming smile, along with a n innocent look Laura found no trouble gaining entrance.
That morning Laura had returned home to find Charlie and Bill waiting up for her. On the center of the round table in the kitchen, she dropped the fist sized diamond necklace worth ninety million. History repeated itself as another beautiful blonde woman left the Halliwell men for a greater future. Two years later and Charlie was finally being reunited with his lost sister. The only issue being that now she was lying under layers of dirt, while he blended in with the shadows, for he wasn't even allowed attending his dear sisters funeral.
Vision blurred with tears, Charles looked up at the crowd of the privileged. A head of red hair moved away from the crowd slipping away like mist. Squinting, he saw a flash of the red haired man's face. Christopher Winters, Max's brother. 'Surely, Christopher should still be with his family, but why is he leaving?' Charlie thought to himself.
Slithering through the tall grass, Charles shadowed the younger devious brother. Chris left on foot, not bothering to flag down a cab. Shoulders hunched, head down, he zigzagged through the usual sea of people in London walking five feet ahead of Charlie. Suddenly halting, Chris looked around, than turned right into an old bookstore. Charlie strolled to the window, peering in. Chris was following an old woman to the back room, leaving the front empty. Pulling the door open, the bell jingled, causing Charles to cringe as he walked into the musty old store. Books lined the walls, floor to ceiling. Dust floated through the room, tempting Charlie to sneeze. A welcome mat decorated with swirling flowers asked him to enter the store. Cautiously moving into the antique store, he strained to hear what was happening in the back room. Just as he was getting close enough to listen in, Christopher blew through to the front room, the crinkled old woman following him. Charles ducked his head, turning into a bookshelf, as Chris strode through the door.
Doing his best to hide his face from the old women, Charlie slipped out the door, following the fishy character known as Christopher Winters. He seemed to be carrying something. Closer and closer they walked to the brownstone, when suddenly Chris turned a corner and stopped at a hidden alley. Shuffling the rubbish among other things, he placed a wrapped bundle next to the wall, hidden by the filth. Charlie blended into the buildings as the youngest Winters passed and left. Charles lingered around the corner, watching the red headed man disappear into the crowd.
He walked to the spot where Chris had dropped off the bundle, moved the rubbish aside, and gasped. A head of autumn red hair and big bright hazel eyes lay on the grubby ground. Christopher Winters had just abandoned a baby. Reaching down, he grabbed the baby bundled in silk white blankets and held her in his lean arms. Cradled in his arms Laura's baby gazed up at him. Curls of red hair covered her head as her hazel eyes chipped with blue stared in wonder.
Quiet as a cat hunting a mouse, Charles turned and walked out of the hidden alley towards his house, away from the alley where the child had been left to die. He stared down at her in wonder. He couldn't fathom how someone could be so cruel to leave a newborn child to die in the cold, but then again the Winters weren't known for their kindness.
How was Charles going to explain this to his brother? The day Laura had left, Bill had stated she no longer belonged to the Halliwell family. Still this was his sister's daughter, and he could not bear to leave this innocent child to die. He would not give his brother the chance to send the child away. If the child was to leave, so would he.
Charlie weaved and slid through the cobbled streets, finally reaching the brownstone.
He swung the door open and crept into the kitchen. The orphan was quiet in his arms, sleeping soundlessly. Praying to the gods, he turned the corner to find his brother sitting at the table waiting for him. Narrowed eyes, and a frown upon his face, his brother was furious. Charlie steeled himself for what was about to come.
"Before you start yelling, keep in mind I have Laura's infant in my arms!" Charles warned while he walked backwards, trying to put as much space in-between them as possible in the tiny kitchen.
"Baby? That baby died in child birth you fool!" Fury rolled off Stephen Bill Halliwell in rolls.
"No she didn't Bill! They abandoned her in an alley. It appears now that Laura's dead Max Winters has decided to completely erase her existence, including his own child! What would you have done? Let the our own flesh and blood die?" Charlie was starting to shake. He did not want to lose this bundle in his arms. The baby had woken and was staring at him with those vividly familiar eyes. He felt trapped in her gaze, unable to let her go.
Bill was peering down at her now, and Charlie could see him staring to melt. 'Perhaps we could keep her' Charlie thought.
"Why don't you go put her to bed in your room Charlie. I think we should call the rest of the family and discuss this with them."
"This is not for them to decide. She is our blood, so this is our decision. I vote we keep her. She needs a good home. Laura died giving birth to this child, and I know she abandoned us, but her child does not deserve to be left to die or to be raised by people who don't love her. If she goes, I go Bill." Charlie's tone was firm as iron. It was clear he would not budge.
"Well she's technically family…so I suppose it would only be right to keep her." With a triumphant grin Charlie took the bundle of red hair, hazel eyes, and pale porcelain skin to his room. He looked down once more, and thought again of the red in her hair, like red autumn leaves.
'Autumn. Not a bad name.' He thought to himself.
