DISCLAIMER: this story based on the Spelling Television/WB Television Network series Charmed. All characters belong to their original owners. The story is meant for entertainment purposes only and no copyright infringement was intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Conceived and written after 'Daddy Dearest'. Shouts out to Barb, for her valuable help and encouragement. Her many suggestions kept me focused and made the story so much tighter. Also thanks to Bridget, who offered to beta for me too, but who is battling an evil ISP -- and I'm not a patient enough person to sit on a story for long... :)
FUTURE PERFECT
PROLOGUE
Cole rested a hand on top of the cool stone of the railing. Behind him, blackened curtains fluttered lazily in a soft breeze coming in from the bay. He gazed out across the twinkling lights of San Francisco but didn't notice them. Nor did he see the brilliant orange sunrise when morning finally came. His face was grim, his teeth clenched in anger. Beneath the anger, though, his blue eyes were dark with despair.
He was still alive.
Cole threw his head back and roared into the purple sky, giving voice to his anguish.
In the distance, a ship's horn echoed mournfully through the air. It was as if the gods answered Cole's pain.
When he lost the last of his air and needed to gulp in a deep breath, Cole stiffened his back and headed inside. Much as it chafed to admit it, the avatars had been right all along. He had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to. He had tried so hard to make a place for himself in the world of good, only to get the door slammed in his face time and again. Phoebe would never again be his. He realized that now. She hated him so much that she wasn't even willing to end his misery and vanquish him. It hurt that she was so fiercely opposed to him. In the past, it was always Phoebe who believed in him, who found it within herself to forgive him and offer him a second chance. But no longer. She was so convinced he was evil that she pushed him relentlessly to prove herself right. And he had done so yesterday. No matter his reasons, when he helped the darklighter attack the sisters, he committed an act of evil.
In a way, it was a relief, Cole decided while he carefully stepped around the charred remains of the dinner table. The road to Phoebe's heart, the bridge into the trust of the Charmed Ones, was forever closed to him. All hope was gone. No longer would he need to try and prove himself. No longer would he have to struggle with his powers, when they urged him to strike out in anger or fear. A burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
Then why did his shoulders still slump and why was it so hard to drag one foot in front of the other?
A soft 'ding' announced the elevator's arrival. The doors swished open with a whisper and Cole stepped into the carriage without looking back at the burned ruins of his apartment, and of his life as a human. He chuckled softly. "Going down, Turner," he murmured as he pushed the button for the ground floor. "All the way down."
As soon as the carriage set itself in motion, he disappeared in a brief, red glow, leaving an empty elevator to arrive in the lobby of the apartment building.
TBC
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Conceived and written after 'Daddy Dearest'. Shouts out to Barb, for her valuable help and encouragement. Her many suggestions kept me focused and made the story so much tighter. Also thanks to Bridget, who offered to beta for me too, but who is battling an evil ISP -- and I'm not a patient enough person to sit on a story for long... :)
FUTURE PERFECT
PROLOGUE
Cole rested a hand on top of the cool stone of the railing. Behind him, blackened curtains fluttered lazily in a soft breeze coming in from the bay. He gazed out across the twinkling lights of San Francisco but didn't notice them. Nor did he see the brilliant orange sunrise when morning finally came. His face was grim, his teeth clenched in anger. Beneath the anger, though, his blue eyes were dark with despair.
He was still alive.
Cole threw his head back and roared into the purple sky, giving voice to his anguish.
In the distance, a ship's horn echoed mournfully through the air. It was as if the gods answered Cole's pain.
When he lost the last of his air and needed to gulp in a deep breath, Cole stiffened his back and headed inside. Much as it chafed to admit it, the avatars had been right all along. He had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to. He had tried so hard to make a place for himself in the world of good, only to get the door slammed in his face time and again. Phoebe would never again be his. He realized that now. She hated him so much that she wasn't even willing to end his misery and vanquish him. It hurt that she was so fiercely opposed to him. In the past, it was always Phoebe who believed in him, who found it within herself to forgive him and offer him a second chance. But no longer. She was so convinced he was evil that she pushed him relentlessly to prove herself right. And he had done so yesterday. No matter his reasons, when he helped the darklighter attack the sisters, he committed an act of evil.
In a way, it was a relief, Cole decided while he carefully stepped around the charred remains of the dinner table. The road to Phoebe's heart, the bridge into the trust of the Charmed Ones, was forever closed to him. All hope was gone. No longer would he need to try and prove himself. No longer would he have to struggle with his powers, when they urged him to strike out in anger or fear. A burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
Then why did his shoulders still slump and why was it so hard to drag one foot in front of the other?
A soft 'ding' announced the elevator's arrival. The doors swished open with a whisper and Cole stepped into the carriage without looking back at the burned ruins of his apartment, and of his life as a human. He chuckled softly. "Going down, Turner," he murmured as he pushed the button for the ground floor. "All the way down."
As soon as the carriage set itself in motion, he disappeared in a brief, red glow, leaving an empty elevator to arrive in the lobby of the apartment building.
TBC