Visions

Author's Disclaimer: The only thing I own are the ideas, characters, and concepts not cannon to the original Charmed series. Everything bellows to the producers, creators, and other persons entitled by law.

Author's Note: I began this story several years and I never saw it to fruition. I found myself recently attracted back to it with the 20th anniversary of Charmed just occurring. I hope you enjoy this story.

Summary: The children of The Charmed Ones face the trials and tribulations of adulthood, magic, and a new threat on the horizon.

Chapter 1: Everything Will Be Just Fine

There was a loud explosion that shook through the entire house that sat at 1329 Prescott Street. In the attic, the smoke from the explosion dissipated as an orb of cracking, electrical energy soared towards a young woman. Her eyes widened as she outstretched her hands and the ball lost its momentum but still continued to move towards her. She immediately got out of the way and using the same gesture, the ball sped up and slammed itself into the wall. She ran her hands through her hair and looked up and saw the man who threw the energy ball. She stared down the man in the room, her eyes briefly catching the collapsed figure of her brother on the ground. Katharine Mitchell-Haines knew she was outnumbered even with only one demon before her.

The demon released a series of energy balls at her in rapid succession. She threw her hands up to slow the balls from reaching her when the demon disappeared. She released time and the balls slammed into more pieces of furniture, wood, etc. in the old attic. She kneeled down to her brother, who was face down after being slammed into wall by the explosion earlier. She turned him over and saw the bloody injury a top his head. She can see he was breathing which was a relief. "Henry?" She whispered to him; unware the demon from moments earlier returned. He threw a ball of crackling energy at his target.

Katharine turned around and saw the ball just as it hit her chest. The crackling, high voltage energy ball cut through her chest like a knife in butter and she collapsed dead on the floor of the attic.

Henry Mitchell jolted awake and let out a scream. He scanned the room he was in and saw that he was in his bedroom in his apartment in the North Beach neighborhood of the city. He glanced at the clock and noticed it was ten after three in the morning. He was breathing heavy as he rubbed his hands over his face. The bedroom door slammed open, hitting the wall behind, and bright light flooded the bedroom. "Jesus Christ, are you okay?"

Henry looked over to see his boyfriend of six years standing in the doorway. He was wearing a college t-shirt and his boxer shorts. He looked frightened. "Yeah, I'm fine," Henry said as he pulled himself out of the bed and pulled a t-shirt over his bare chest. Nate's eyes lingering on his muscular build and the triquetra tattoo on his left rib-cage.

"I have never heard you scream like that," his boyfriend remarked as Henry made his way out of the bedroom into the living room. "Nate, it's nothing," Henry reassured his lover, placing his hand on Nate's shoulder as he scooted past him.

"Still working? It's after three," Henry asked as he sat down on the couch and reached for Nate's glass of water and glancing at the clock on the cable receiver. "Yeah, just trying to get through some of these research papers. I don't have to teach until 11:00 a.m.," Nate replied taking a seat next to Henry. Nate is an assistant professor of sociology at San Francisco State University. The pair had met there while Nate was serving as an adjunct professor while completing his dissertation and Henry was finishing his bachelor's degree. Nate pulled his glasses off and stared into Henry's face. He could tell something had happened. "Tell me why you screamed. Is it something I need to be concerned about?"

Henry forced a slight smile. Nate was new to understanding the world of magic and the role he played in the grand design dating a member of the most powerful magical family in the world.

"I had a premonition of Kat and I fighting a demon at the manor and she was killed," Henry said. Henry was born with the power of premonition. He is able to see visions of the past and future through touch. Additionally, his power allows him to see the future concurrently with the present; allowing him to see the outcome of one choice or another as the choice is made, and on rare occasions, he has been able to astral project his own consciousness into the vision. According to his Aunt Phoebe, his power of premonition rivals even her own.

"When?" Nate asked worriedly. Henry shook his head, "I don't know. Sometime soon? I rarely get the visions in my dreams which is concerning on its own."

"Are you going to call Kat and warn her?"

"No, I will talk to her tomorrow. I am having lunch with her and Chris. I will make mention of it then. Plus, I was with her in the vision and we were at the manor."

"Could it be when we go to the manor Friday for dinner with your family?" Nate suggested.

Henry smiled as his boyfriend, "You are getting the hang of deciphering my premonitions, aren't you?" Nate sheepishly smiled.

"And no, it's not. I was in workout clothes, which means it is going to be a spontaneous attack," Henry deduced on remembering that he was in a tank top and basketball shorts in the vision.

"I am glad that we can talk about this. I am glad you know the truth," Henry said to Nate as he moved closer to him. "Henry, we have been friends for almost eight years and together for six. I trust you and I am glad that you felt you can tell me your secret; even if it was difficult for me to understand."

"I love you," Henry whispered and reached forward and kissed his boyfriend. As he was kissing the love his life, Henry felt strange like he was being pulled into a different direction. He was thrown, consciously, into yet another premonition.

The apartment was dark. Henry reached for the light switch and the apartment was consumed by light. He could feel the wall under his fingertips. He was in the vision. He walked into their bedroom and saw Nate laying on the bed. There was blood everywhere. Henry ran over to him and realized that he was dead. He screamed and screamed as he clutched Nate's dead body against his. That was when he noticed the demon standing in the corner of the room. The demon sneered as he sent a ball of flaming fire, striking Henry in the chest.

Henry opened his eyes and pushed himself away from Nate. Nate was visibly offended. Henry pulled his shirt off and noticed the burn marks scorched into his chest. Clenching his teeth, Henry swore like Nate never heard before. Nate rushed closer to him and Henry retreated away from him. "I'm okay," Henry said breathily as he touched a finger to the burn and winced in pain. In his twenty-eight years, he had never been harmed by a premonition. "What the hell happened?" Nate demanded, his tone becoming more aggressive.

"I had another premonition. A demon threw a fire ball at me and I got hit," Henry said hurriedly as he made his way to the bathroom.

"You had another premonition?" Henry stopped in his tracks and looked up at the ceiling, wincing, "It's just residual from the one that woke me up."

Henry thought for a moment if he should tell Nate what he had seen but told himself not to bring it up. He had to make sense of a few things first. Nate was visibly concerned and upset by the evening's events thus far. "Should you call your sister to heal you?"

"No, it's just a superficial burn. It will heal in no time," Henry replied as he dampened a towel under the faucet.

Henry stared into the mirror at his tan face. He let out a sigh and turned to face Nate, who looked ready to cry. "Baby, I am fine. I will call Tamora to come and heal me in the morning. Why don't we go to bed and try to get some sleep?"

"Are you sure you don't want to call Tamora now?" Nate seemed rather insistent.

"Yeah, I will be okay. It doesn't hurt as bad as it look," Henry lied. It was less than six months ago that Henry told Nate about magic and his heritage as a witch. It did not go over well at first and resulted in their three-week break-up where Henry had to live in his childhood bedroom. Nate eventually came around and has just begun to really accept the family and magic. Henry knew in his heart that Nate meant well but there was still too much for him to learn and somethings, for right now anyways, are best kept hidden.

"At least tell me what you saw?" Nate pressed on.

Henry thought quickly to himself, "I saw the same attack as before but this time I got hurt more badly."

"I did not know that you can get hurt in real life?" Nate inquired. "This is real life," Henry though quickly to himself. "It has never happened before, but our powers continue to grow as we get older. I know my Aunt Phoebe has been able to get injured by her visions." Nate stared at Henry further, "I don't understand."

"My powers allow me to astral project my consciousness into a premonition. It doesn't happen often and I cannot control when or how it happens. It is most likely an extension of my other power to astral project," Henry explained calmly to his distressed boyfriend.

"Henry, I love you more than anything. I have accepted this as our life—but you need to be careful and do your due diligence to figure this out!" Nate's voice trembled with slight anger. He was overloaded with information and did not know how to handle the new insights into magic he was learning.

"I will and I promise I will be fine. I love you too," Henry said weakly as he reached forward and pulled Nate into a hug. He will figure it out and he does love Nate—however, he was not sure he would be fine. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and rubbed the back of Nate's head; his fingers brushing the short, soft brown hair.

"Everything will be fine?" Henry thought to himself to whomever could hear his plea.

Melinda Halliwell knew one thing for certain: magic was more hassle than it was worth. For the third time in one week, Melinda found herself rummaging through her closet for a new outfit for day. Had she known the demon would explode in a gush of green blood, she would not have blown him so close to her. She savored the days when demons just exploded into fire, ash, or a nice mix of the two. She was on her hands and knees looking for a new pair of shoes to pair with her clean pair of navy trousers as her eldest brother hovered over her.

"Wyatt, I cannot afford to keep dry cleaning every outfit this week!" She exclaimed in annoyance while holding two mismatched shoes.

"You need to calm down or you'll blow something up," Wyatt smirked as he took a seat on the end of her neatly made-up bed. She huffed and continued her search as he looked around her room. It was clean, pristine, and orderly with no clutter. Melinda took after their mother in that way. She had come of age in this very bedroom yet there was no imprint of a teenage Melinda Prudence Halliwell to be seen. Wyatt found it almost sterile; but he knew the importance of order in Melinda's life. In the last six months, Melinda's powers had grown to include molecular combustion, or the ability to blow object ups. Like her mother before her, she found it hard to control and often would explode random things in her temper. She valued order in her life because her life had become so disordered.

After what seemed like hours, Melinda took a seat next to Wyatt and wedged her feet into a pair of nude heels. "Wyatt, we have been attacked three times this week by a rogue fleet of scavenger demons. What is happening?"

Wyatt sighed, "The Elders have no insight on this matter. There was must be a power struggle again down in the Underworld and it's coming to a head here"—he was interrupted. "And on my shirts." She stared matter-of-factly at him. He smiled at her comedic input.

"And your shirts—I have to tend to some charges today but I'll hit the Book when I get home and try to see if I can get some leads." Wyatt ran his hand through his blonde mane, which was now becoming to long for anyone in the family's liking.

"Also, why are we the ones getting constantly barraged with these demons? I had lunch with PJ yesterday and she said she hasn't seen a demon in weeks. Weeks, Wyatt!" Melinda exclaimed holding her hands up. Wyatt's eyes immediately opened and grabbed them, "Please don't blow up your bedroom!" She hit his shoulder lightly. He smiled weakly and hung his head.

Melinda looked over at her brother. She can see he was exhausted. He was a fulltime whitelighter with many charges, a fulltime witch, and most importantly—the father of a precocious two-year old: her godson, Matthew Halliwell. "I can probably duck out of the restaurant early and come help you," she smiled placing her hand on his. "I worry that you're being stretched to thin lately," she smiled weakly.

He knew she was right—she often was—about his level of busyness in the recent weeks if not longer. He had over twelve charges that called day in and day out, meetings with Elders, and raising his son. He was in a perpetual state of exhaustion especially with his wife, Magdalena, working so much as a resident at San Francisco Memorial Hospital. He grasped his sister's hand and smiled back at her, "It's a date."

The two always enjoyed a close relationship. Melinda often thought it was because she was the youngest and only girl in the house growing up but she now began to understand it as a simple friendship. Wyatt was the one who taught her how to ride a bike, how to defend herself and how to orb away without getting caught by their parents. She laughed at the memory. It was especially important for her to be with Wyatt now as his relationship with Chris was becoming more strained over the last few years and their families were changing. Chris was married to his longtime girlfriend and former witch-assassin, Bianca, and he was a father of a two-year old daughter. Lately, he did not seem as interested in hanging around the Manor and relishing what time he could with his siblings. Additionally for someone who worked part-time as a realtor, he was always working.

As the two sat side by side on the bed, they both heard the distinct text message alerts on their respective phones. Wyatt pulled his phone out and looked at it and saw it was a message in their group chat with the entire family sans their parents. It was the cousin chat—the next generation of witches charged to carry their now (semi) retired parent's legacy. Melinda peered over and read the message. It was short, concise and urgent from Henry—the second youngest member of the family. Manor. 3 p.m. Urgent.

"I guess we will have a lot more to look up than just rogue scavengers," Wyatt remarked as he put the phone back in his pocket after texting a quick reply. The family was use to Henry's quick messages. He was a teacher and did not have a lot of time for texting during his days but often enough he would text them messages to meet—most likely as a result of his premonition power. He was the only member of the family to inherit the gift and more often than not they needed him the most.

Another series of dings rang through the room and Wyatt pulled the phone out again and read through the new messages. All were coming to the Manor except Chris, who offered no excuse—probably had an open house—and Tamora, Henry's eldest sister and current headmistress of Magic School. She apologized, wanted to be filled in later, and said that she had class at that time.

"Chris is not coming?" Melinda asked reading through the messages. "No," Wyatt replied succinctly. She rolled her eyes—this was the third time in recent memory that he couldn't make it. "He probably has an open house," she offered to Wyatt.

"We all have jobs and all manage to come when it's important," Wyatt countered; not desiring to engage in a back-and-forth with her.

Melinda rolled her eyes, "Whatever you say. I am off to the restaurant. I'll see you at 3?" Melinda was the manager of both their mother's establishments—P3 and Halliwell's, the restaurant that Piper Halliwell always dreamed of. After earning her business degree, she invested some money and became a part-owner in her own right as a business woman—not dependent—and took over operations for both so her mother could take a step back. So far, the businesses were profitable and she was rather proud of herself.

Wyatt nodded and gave his sister a quick peck on the sheet and orbed out. She pursed her lips and went on her way. She grabbed her purse off a chair and made her way downstairs. "Everything will be fine," she said out loud to no one in particular.

Henry Mitchell was sitting at his desk in the athletic office at Francisco Middle School where he taught middle school health and physical education. He was staring down at his phone watching the steady stream of responses from his family. His chocolate eyes scanned the journal next to his phone and he reviewed his handwritten notes that he made regarding both premonitions. He often kept a journal of his visions to ensure accuracy and easy recall. As he had gotten older, he found it more difficult to recall the nuances of each vision.

When he was a child, the family thought he would not develop any powers as his genetic make-up as well as his older twin sisters was predominately mortal. It was not until he was almost ten that they realized he carried the power of premonition. For the first several years, his premonitions would only come in dreams and his mother and father thought he just had night terrors as he was unable to verbalize what was happening. It was not until he was ten when he had his first premonition through touch during a playdate with his cousins that they understood him to be magical.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the ringing bell. It was class time. Henry had been a middle school physical education teacher since graduating college. He enjoyed being active and teaching kids to be healthy, enjoying physical activities and engaging in sports. He was also an assistant lacrosse coach at the local high school in the spring term. He grabbed his clipboard and sunglasses and left his office to meet his upcoming class in the gymnasium. He took a deep breath and tried to focus his energy on what he had to do—the image of a dead Nate seared into his memory.

He wrote a quick text to Nate as he walked, "I love you. Stay safe and see you tonight. Xo." He felt better as it whooshed to indicate that it sent, pocket the phone and entered the gym, "Alright everyone! You have seven minutes to change and meet me at the back door. We are doing sprints today!" The kids groaned and he started his class but he had the overwhelming feeling that things were about to change and he was not sure if it was for the better.

End of Chapter 1.

Hope you enjoy—more is definitely on its way soon!

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