Author notes: This story is a sequel to Lover's Leap. You might want to read that first, although it is not strictly necessary. You can find Lover's Leap at http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=248442
Lover's Leap was written during season three. Lover's Reunion is based on the same premises and Prue is still very much alive.
LOVER'S REUNION
Prologue
Phoebe's shout had been the last thing Cole heard when he turned to smoke and took with him the demoness that had given birth to him. He still heard her scream. It hummed in his consciousness, round and round and round. He wished she would shut up; her voice was a continuous torment that he couldn't escape as he drifted in an intense darkness.
It was a wonder that he still possessed awareness. Cole didn't know where he was - he was fairly certain it wasn't purgatory. Which was a source of endless amazement. With the unspeakable crimes he had committed, he should have gone straight to Hell, even before the flames in the mausoleum had died. Instead, he was here.
He didn't know how much time passed. At some moments it seemed he had been here forever, in this dark nothingness. At other times, he thought he'd just arrived, an instant ago. He tried to number the seconds yet somehow always lost count: he never made it past 'six'.
Sometimes, Cole thought he saw others. He didn't have eyes as such, but in his peripheral vision he caught them anyway. Other souls, entities, pale blurs streaking by on their way to who knows where. He tried calling them, but there was no sound. There was nothing. Nothing except his memories. And Phoebe's desperate voice in his mind.
Then, after a minute or a millennium, he heard another sound, a voice. If he had had ears, he would have perked them up. Any sort of distraction would be welcome.
"Cole."
He recognized the voice. "Leo? Leo Wyatt?"
"Yes."
"What- How- Why-" Cole stuttered. In pure gratitude for the break in the endless monotony he tried to ask a million questions at once. At last he settled on the one that was most important. "Where am I?"
"You're in limbo," the invisible Whitelighter replied.
"How? That can't be," Cole said. "There's nothing here. Nada."
"Limbo is different for everyone," Leo explained. "Yours is blank, because they cannot make up their minds about where your soul should go."
"Why not?" Cole asked. "I would have dispatched it to Hell in a blink. Do they know all the things I've done? What I did to Phoebe?" He clearly remembered the horrible deeds he had committed as Belthazor. After all, his memories were all he had left.
"So would I," Leo agreed. "But they are not so certain. They feel that in your final moments you have shown the promise of redemption. And now they are debating your fate."
"How long-" Cole began.
"Almost fifteen years."
"Fifteen years?!" Cole cried. If he had had a body, he would have plonked to the floor in shock. If there had been a floor, that is. "Are you telling me that the Elders haven't been able to make up their minds in fifteen years?"
"They don't make such decisions lightly." The shrug was audible in Leo's tone.
"You could say that again," Cole muttered. "Fifteen years... Why are you here?"
The silence lasted so long that Cole feared Leo was gone. "Leo?"
The reply was brusque. "We need your help."
Cole barked a laugh. "My help? You're kidding, right?" He laughed again. This was not only a welcome diversion from fifteen years of nothing; it was hilarious as well! "What could you possibly need my help with?"
"Phoebe."
It was as if a bucketful of cold water had been poured over him and the laughter died on his lips. "Phoebe? Is something wrong with Phoebe? She is all right, isn't she?"
- Continued in the next chapter
Lover's Leap was written during season three. Lover's Reunion is based on the same premises and Prue is still very much alive.
LOVER'S REUNION
Prologue
Phoebe's shout had been the last thing Cole heard when he turned to smoke and took with him the demoness that had given birth to him. He still heard her scream. It hummed in his consciousness, round and round and round. He wished she would shut up; her voice was a continuous torment that he couldn't escape as he drifted in an intense darkness.
It was a wonder that he still possessed awareness. Cole didn't know where he was - he was fairly certain it wasn't purgatory. Which was a source of endless amazement. With the unspeakable crimes he had committed, he should have gone straight to Hell, even before the flames in the mausoleum had died. Instead, he was here.
He didn't know how much time passed. At some moments it seemed he had been here forever, in this dark nothingness. At other times, he thought he'd just arrived, an instant ago. He tried to number the seconds yet somehow always lost count: he never made it past 'six'.
Sometimes, Cole thought he saw others. He didn't have eyes as such, but in his peripheral vision he caught them anyway. Other souls, entities, pale blurs streaking by on their way to who knows where. He tried calling them, but there was no sound. There was nothing. Nothing except his memories. And Phoebe's desperate voice in his mind.
Then, after a minute or a millennium, he heard another sound, a voice. If he had had ears, he would have perked them up. Any sort of distraction would be welcome.
"Cole."
He recognized the voice. "Leo? Leo Wyatt?"
"Yes."
"What- How- Why-" Cole stuttered. In pure gratitude for the break in the endless monotony he tried to ask a million questions at once. At last he settled on the one that was most important. "Where am I?"
"You're in limbo," the invisible Whitelighter replied.
"How? That can't be," Cole said. "There's nothing here. Nada."
"Limbo is different for everyone," Leo explained. "Yours is blank, because they cannot make up their minds about where your soul should go."
"Why not?" Cole asked. "I would have dispatched it to Hell in a blink. Do they know all the things I've done? What I did to Phoebe?" He clearly remembered the horrible deeds he had committed as Belthazor. After all, his memories were all he had left.
"So would I," Leo agreed. "But they are not so certain. They feel that in your final moments you have shown the promise of redemption. And now they are debating your fate."
"How long-" Cole began.
"Almost fifteen years."
"Fifteen years?!" Cole cried. If he had had a body, he would have plonked to the floor in shock. If there had been a floor, that is. "Are you telling me that the Elders haven't been able to make up their minds in fifteen years?"
"They don't make such decisions lightly." The shrug was audible in Leo's tone.
"You could say that again," Cole muttered. "Fifteen years... Why are you here?"
The silence lasted so long that Cole feared Leo was gone. "Leo?"
The reply was brusque. "We need your help."
Cole barked a laugh. "My help? You're kidding, right?" He laughed again. This was not only a welcome diversion from fifteen years of nothing; it was hilarious as well! "What could you possibly need my help with?"
"Phoebe."
It was as if a bucketful of cold water had been poured over him and the laughter died on his lips. "Phoebe? Is something wrong with Phoebe? She is all right, isn't she?"
- Continued in the next chapter