Disclaimer: If I owned Charmed, you would be seeing this as an episode on TV. And if I owned Julian McMahon, writing a fanfic would be the last thing my hands would be doing ;-) So…yeah don't own anything, not even some dialogues from various episodes. Just own the crazy plot.
A/N: I know I should be updating my other two fics, but I somehow ended up watching Three Faces of Phoebe and naturally wanted to write something about it. But after reading about a million stories of either Phoebe going home and telling her sisters and Grams about the future and another million stories about Cole's dilemma with the Source's powers, I naturally had to take a completely different and insane approach :-D
Timeline: Starts between Three Faces of Phoebe episode and ends…err..well let's just say future consequences and leave it at that, shall we? :-)
Special thanks: To gzv for answering every crazy question I came up with in order to write this. And to ElauraGrave for the inspiration to help me figure out how to move the story forward :-) And namjai and Daicy for the long Charmed chats which also helped a lot. Thanks guys :-)
Anyways, hope everyone enjoys and reviews? ;-)
"I don't need to see the future to know about good witches. They're overly cautious by nature. Her future self will be too afraid to say anything that might make things worse for her and her sisters. She'll preserve the future."
"How do you know?
"I've been a Seer longer than you've been the Source. You'll learn to trust my instincts."
"I'm not the Source."
"But you will be very soon. It's your destiny."
"My destiny is to be with Phoebe. Nothing will change that and neither will this thing inside of me!"
"Your love won't be enough to save you in the end. You'll see..."
"She's dead, isn't she?"
Cole Turner froze in his mental struggles against the Source of all Evil. "What?" Even the Source halted his assaults for control.
The ten year old version of his fiancée gazed forlornly at the photograph above the fireplace; a picture of a younger version of Prue Halliwell.
"Phoebe?" Cole prodded cautiously when he received no answer. "Who exactly are you talking about?"
It felt like an eternity before she finally spoke.
"Aunt Gail."
Confusion tackled the sigh of relief from ever escaping. "Aunt...Gail?" He couldn't ever remember Phoebe mentioning an aunt, let alone one which had a name.
"Grams' best friend." Phoebe looked down, idly thumbing through the photo album her older self had given her earlier. "She comes every other Saturday for Bridge Club."
"Bridge club?" Somehow he doubted the grandmother of the Charmed Ones invited her friend Gail over for a game of cards. "Really?" A coven to practice magic however wasn't so farfetched.
Penny Halliwell was not only raising her three granddaughters, but three witches prophesized to be the most powerful witches of all time. She would've needed all the magical help she could get.
"Yes…and s-she used to bake us cookies too." Phoebe's voice slightly wavered. "A-And she never said no to anything."
It was obvious the kid was realizing seeing the future could be both wonderful and terrible at the same time.
The sigh finally left Cole's lips, but it wasn't of relief. For the hundredth time that evening, Cole wearily glanced at the stairs.
Phoebe—the present Phoebe—and her sisters were busy in the attic, trying to identify the demon that had attacked earlier. A demon who, without a doubt, would attack again.
"Kurzon will be attacking them very soon. This time more prepared. You better hurry back... if you want them to survive."
The Seer made sure of it.
She wanted Kurzon destroyed at all costs and didn't mind if the Charmed Ones paid it with their lives.
Cole found his eyes wandering over to the dining room, mechanically scanning the scene of the attack.
"You better hurry back... if you want them to survive. If you want Phoebe to survive..."
Cole clenched his fists, suppressing the impulse to flame down to the Underworld and grasp the Seer's throat again.
The last sentence was never spoken, but its implication was loud and clear.
Kurzon had shimmered from behind. He had attacked with an energyball.
Paige had sent the energy ball right back at him, but missed, shattering a vase in the process.
Kurzon had tried again, before Piper had unleashed her own lethal power and discovered he reconstituted. Like the Source.
And that's when Phoebe cast a spell summoning her past self.
And future self.
From the shattered vase to the broken light fixtures —the non-living victims of the demon attack—the implications were loud and clear.
Paige can deflect an attack. Paige can orb away from an attack.
Piper can unleash an attack. Piper can freeze an attack.
Phoebe...Phoebe was the problem.
"Your power was always the weakest, hardly worth taking. Your life however is."
The Source knew it.
The Triad knew it.
The Seer knew it. And thanks to her, Kurzon probably figured it out too.
The key to the throne.
"Demons hoping to replace the Source will gather factions of followers, and what better way to gain support for your faction, than to kill the infamous Charmed Ones."
The infamous Charmed Ones' power lay in the Power of Three. And the best way to destroy the Power of Three and the Charmed Ones?
"Which sister shall we start with?"
"The most vulnerable."
Cole slowly unclenched his fists and closed his eyes, his own words with the demon of rage echoing in his ears.
It wasn't personal, just good strategy. Take out the most vulnerable.
Simple.
Unfortunately, a world without the Source wasn't so simple.
Without a strong leader, anarchy and chaos ruled. Because of the Source's vanquish, there was a power vacuum in the Underworld.
A void.
There was a void in the Underworld and it craved for completion.
"Too bad Belthazor's gone. He would have made a great new Source."
Cole rubbed his face and again found his eyes straying over to the stairs.
The possibility of the Charmed Ones embracing evil and declaring themselves Queens of the Underworld was as insane as him and Piper falling madly and hopelessly in love. No one would bow down to witches and a half-whitelighter.
They would have to settle for vanquishing one of the Source's powerful enemies.
It would send a strong message. The cost of a war against the Charmed Ones for ascension to the throne would far outweigh the benefit.
The sisters couldn't afford any sort of distractions while they searched for Kurzon. Which ultimately meant...
"She was...she was really nice. And now she's dead. Isn't she?"
...Cole got stuck dealing with the terrible part of Little Phoebe's future experience.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened his leather jacket and cautiously approached Little Phoebe. "Just because she isn't here right now it doesn't mean..." he trailed off, trying to find appropriate words to tackle the sensitive situation. "People grow old and they—"
"Die," Phoebe finished miserably, seemingly stuck on the same page of her album. "They die."
Curiously, just like Phoebe's sweet, loving, Aunt Gail, who Cole had never heard about until now.
His gaze glided over to the haphazardly slung brown coat over a carelessly tossed blue bag on the marble tabletop. A stack of notes in Paige's haphazard writing peeked out from the confines of the bag.
He stroked his chin thoughtfully.
Maybe he had heard of an Aunt Gail.
As a former Triad agent, he had access to two years worth of information, collected by the blood of demons. The information mentioned someone close to the Charmed Ones betraying them. And the involvement of the demon of vanity, Cryto.
Could that be her?
"Old people always die." Phoebe's broken murmur interrupted his mind from answering that question.
He finally managed to catch a glimpse of the photograph Phoebe was staring at: Aunt Gail. Or rather Aunt Gail's best friend, Penny Halliwell, with a young, happy Phoebe.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and chuckled inwardly.
Gram's best friend….old people die any way….
He didn't know why he couldn't see it. All the clues were obvious.
Whether the alleged Aunt Gail had been real or involved in selling Phoebe and her sisters' souls for beauty to Cryto, Cole knew it was too late to hide the truth from her. Or weave a lie to cover it.
All he could do was lessen the inevitable blow.
"We all die someday, Phoebe. It's…it's just the way it is."
Phoebe's lips quivered. Her chocolate brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Grams is also gone..."
It wasn't a question, but Cole answered it anyway. "I'm sorry."
The distraught expression on her small face, however, made him regret he did.
"C-Cause...she was...really old." The hitch in her small voice didn't go unnoticed. Neither the sniffles in her breathing. Nor the trickling tears she was rubbing at furiously. "A-And old people they...they are supposed to die anyway," she consoled herself.
"Right." Cole loathed himself for agreeing, but there was no point in hiding something she had figured out long before.
"Did she...did she get sick?"
He should've expected it. Details.
Phoebe had always been too curious.
"No," he replied curtly. "She passed away peacefully in her sleep." He distorted the truth, to make it appropriate for a child. "Surrounded by her granddaughters."
"So...one day...she...s-she never woke up?" Phoebe looked stricken by the possibility. "No matter how hard you tried? She was…just…just…."
He grimaced.
Perhaps the uncensored version of truth might've been better.
"The...uh...the important thing to remember is that she's in a better place now." He was forced to resort to tactics used by the mourners at Prue's funeral. Judging by the expressions on Piper and Phoebe's faces that day, it was probably one of the worst things to say to a person in grief.
"Because...she's with Mommy?"
But maybe not to a grieving child.
"Yes, that's right." Cole grabbed the opportunity for discussing the...brighter aspects of death. "With your mother, your grandfather, with your great-grand parents..." He let the sentence trail off, not wanting to elaborate her surrogate mother and only parent figure wasn't the only person she would lose in the future. Neither explain the strange fact that her great-grandmother was now her sister, Piper. "She's with a lot of people. With family. Do you really think she or anyone of them would want you to be sad?"
While the tears still trickled, the symptoms of grief visibly lessened. Phoebe contemplated his words, before she shrugged. "I don't know. I never met them. Grandpa died when Mommy was little. I don't know anyone else." She sniffled loudly and raised a hand to scrub her runny nose. "Cause they're all dead."
"But your Grams married again." Not to mention another three times out of six times she had been engaged. "You must have..." Cole took a hesitant step, unsure whether someone who believed in Cinderella and happily ever after believed in divorce and re-marriage. "More family out there."
"Grams says no one else matters besides Grandpa." Phoebe gazed solemnly at Grams photograph. "He'll always be her true love."
"I see." He sensed a but, something Phoebe wasn't saying...something which may very well help Cole. But first things first. "Let me get you a tissue."
Phoebe stopped wiping her tear-stained hands and runny nose on the sofa. "Okay..."
As fate, destiny and karma would have it, a tissue box wasn't conveniently lying around in plain sight.
His searching gaze again fell on the half-whitelighter's belongings, which stood out for even a blind man to notice.
He glowered, instantly knowing fate and destiny weren't responsible for things not being where they belonged. Piper had lectured Paige a million times, but apparently, words had no affect on the half-whitelighter's clutter habit.
Grudgingly, Cole embarked on a quest for a tissue box.
He ignored his reflection on the various antique mirrors, the paintings, the framed photographs, shattered glass and any other reflective surface he encountered.
"We're one now…I'm reborn….within you."
He didn't want to catch a glimpse of his lips, twisted into a diabolical smile. He didn't want to see the triumph in his eyes; soulless and black as coal, burning with a fire which could vanquish demons, witches...mortals. Even the ruthless, bloodthirsty, vilest of evil creatures visibly trembled under the fiery gaze. It reminded them of power... how far that power transcended...how they had no choice.
"You...won't have a choice."
He didn't want to decipher the flutter of whispers scratching him. And then fight the overwhelming feeling of despair.
Falling into despair was like struggling in quicksand. The more you struggled, the quicker it consumed you.
The battle was lost if he gave in to despair. He couldn't lose hope. He had to keep fighting.
A slap in the face from an elderly lady may have attracted amused looks, but a slap across the face from an unmarried, bitter old Phoebe who absolutely despised him? It was a red flag. A red flag everyone would be analyzing and speculating every detail over. Paige would be having a field day with all the conspiracy theories against him.
But Paige's paranoia was the proverbial icing on the cake.
The more paranoid and questioning Paige got, the more uneasy Phoebe got. The more uneasy Phoebe got, the more motivation to interrogate Future Phoebe. The sooner Future Phoebe started talking, the quicker the whole nightmare could end. For all of them.
And he and Phoebe could finally get married.
Right now, all Cole could do was keep Little Phoebe company. Make sure the child was back to the happy, inquisitive child, badgering him with questions not long ago.
"When are we going to get married?"
Those had been the first words out of her mouth when he had been assigned the task of keeping an eye on her. It had been an answer to his indifferent hi.
"We?" He had been left momentarily stunned, but he recovered.
"Uh-huh. You and me."
Cole had cocked an eyebrow at her. "You're a bit too young to get married, don't you think?"
Of course smart as she was proving to be, she had rephrased her question.
"When are you going to marry me when I grow up?"
"Uh…You would have to ask Phoebe about that. But she's busy right now."
"Is old lady also me?
If the 'Student of the Year' picture in her album didn't prove it, then that question most definitely did.
The kid was too smart. And too curious.
"She is. But I don't think she would like being bothered by questions."
"Why?"
"Well because she's pretty tired right now."
"Cause she's old?"
"Yes...something like that."
He had hoped that would be the end of it. But it had been wishful thinking.
"Do Piper and Leo have kids?"
He had let out a very patient sigh. "No. Not yet."
"So Piper's gonna have a kid? Is that why she's fat?"
"As far as I know, you're the only kid here right now. And don't let Piper ever hear you say that about her."
He didn't need telepathy or experience and knowledge of over a century as a mercenary to predict the next set of questions...
"Is Prue also married? Does she have kids? Who's her husband?"
Cole had never provided her the answers. Instead, he had provided her a distraction.
"Listen, why don't you go through that album Phoebe gave you, alright?" He had suggested as casually as he could, so as not to arouse any suspicion. "It might have the answers you're looking for..." And for a good measure, he added. "Hmm...it says here you were...student of the year? Is that right?"
She preened and blushed."Yeah."
"I didn't know that. That's very impressive," he had complimented. "I wonder what more interesting and impressive things about you are in this album….Don't you?"
It had worked. Phoebe took the bait.
Everything had been going well, until she had evidently stumbled across a picture of her grandmother and then noticed her gaping absence, put two and two together and realized—
Where is Prue?
The unbidden thought penetrated his mind, questioning him. Mocking him.
Grinding his teeth, Cole shoved it at the back of his mind. Finally locating the object of his quest, he grabbed the overturned tissue box off the wicker chair and strode back to the sitting room where Little Phoebe was located. "Here…." He offered her the box.
"Thank you," she said in a small voice as she accepted it.
"You're welcome." Cole then waited after a minute had passed, before he spoke. "Do you believe that too?"
"What?" She hiccupped as she dabbed her eyes and wiped her nose. With the same tissue. And not in the same order.
"That your grandfather is your Grams true love?" Cole asked conversationally. "What do you think?"
Phoebe's red-rimmed eyes grew huge.
"Does this...other true love have a name?" Cole continued casually, happy to see Phoebe being further lured out of the clutches of sadness and grief by surprise.
Phoebe pursed her lips, clasped and unclasped her hands, clutched the tissue so tightly that is was reduced it to an origami of torn mess. But she still didn't utter a response.
"I'm guessing it's…Tom? Or maybe Billy?" Cole decided to help her decide. "But it could also be Ben…Christopher….Perry?"
Phoebe made a face. "No."
"No?" Cole pretended to muse deeply. "Well that's a funny name for a guy."
Phoebe's lips twitched, but they didn't form into a smile.
However it was a sign Cole was close. Just one more push. "Or perhaps he doesn't have a name?" Cole inclined his head at her. "Is that what you meant by no?"
Biting her lip uneasily, Phoebe finally...slowly confessed in a whisper.
"I'm sorry? Who?" A whisper even he couldn't catch.
Taking a very deep breath which wracked her small body, she uttered the name. "Armand."
Cole had to physically restrain himself from instinctively blurting: The Necromancer! "Oh. A-Armand…is it?"
"Uh-huh." She nodded numbly.
Cole was far from numb. He was brimming with questions, which was ridiculous. Many Armands existed in this world. He didn't understand why he connected that name with that particular demon. "Is there a last name?"
She shrugged. "I dunno."
"And why do you think your grandmother would have anything to do with this...Armand?"
Considering the woman's stream of failed marriages and engagements, not to mention a cursed wedding ring to prevent another failure, it was painfully hard to imagine Penny Halliwell being even romantically linked with a demon. Unless of course it involved painful torture and excruciating vanquish of the said demon...
As for the said demon, he had been dead for over a century. Though like the Necron, the Necromancer was stuck between life and death.
Perhaps he had been a powerful demon a century ago, but now….he scrounged for magical spirits to get a fleeting taste of life. He wasn't fit to rule let alone form his own faction. He wouldn't be a threat to the Charmed Ones.
Or the throne.
It had to be a different Armand. A human. A witch even.
Phoebe glanced sideways, before she pulled out a crumbled photograph from her pocket and held it towards him.
Stunned, Cole took it and carefully unfolded the memory worn by age and Phoebe's not so fragile handling, only to have his wild guess which he debunked earlier confirmed.
The Necromancer and Penny Halliwell. A demon and witch.
Cole observed slack-jawed.
Judging by how the sisters reacted to his and Phoebe's relationship, how Phoebe reacted to the notion of a demon falling in love, they knew nothing about her grandmother's affair.
Did Penny's daughter know?
He wouldn't be surprised if Patty had also been kept in the dark.
Like the forbidden half-whitelighter child secret, Penny Halliwell took her forbidden relationship with a demon to the grave.
Not until her ten year old granddaughter from the past dug it up. The truth.
No matter what, how or even when, the truth always...always had a way of revealing itself.
As Cole's mind raced over the how, when and where of the unraveled secret, the unbidden where lingered with a vengeance.
Where is Prue?
A/N: Where is Prue?
Cole:Oh she's with your mother, Grams and Andy.
Little Phoebe (gasping): Andy's dead too?
Umm...yeah...well lol, that huge problem is for another day another chapter. Not sure which one. But I do know next chapter might take awhile because of 1) real-life and 2) chapter a bit longer and the cliffhanger more evil and 3) Little Phoebe being babysat by Cole who is being slowly possessed by the Source is probably one of the hardest, insanest thing I've ever written.
If you guys want me to continue this craziness, then review. I'm not a telepath and can't read minds. So I guess the only way for me to know is through…a review! Please? :-)