Synopsis: Something to Be is a story following the lives of the Chamed Ones children. Each of them are unique in their own ways with seperate problems and inner conflicts but a unifying bond of family and friendship. A new threat is brewing with the death of an original Charmed One, leaving the next generation of Halliwell witches to take up the fight. Forces in the Underworld are building while the Halliwells try to sort through family problems, new powers, new relationships, and a way to keep a magical and normal life.
** See my profile for story roster complete with my dream cast and character details. **
Thanks for reading and I hope you leave a review!
Episode One: If The Fates Allow
It would be the coldest Christmas they would ever remember.
A bitter wind slapped his scarf into the breeze, his auburn locks twisting with each painful gust. He was careful with his commonly clumsy steps, avoiding a fall caused by slick ice. The freezing weather was out of the usual San Francisco character, even with the December evening.
His breath was a cloud in the air, a reminder of the temperature and his continuing misfortune. The well lit suburban neighborhood was silent. Doors smiled at the street with glowing windows and colorful Christmas lights glimmered in holiday cheer. He kept his gaze down to avoid the happy displays. It angered him to know that everything was still the same for them.
But more than that it made him feel alone.
The manor smelled of pine needles and hickory ham. A fire cackled in the living room, sparks snapping with each flicker of the flames. Chimes of Christmas carols echoed from the television that was consumed by a black and white showing of a Wonderful Life. A tall Douglas fir was in one corner of the living room, spotted with shiny bulbs and lights. Packages wrapped in colorful paper were nestled beneath the tree. It was the ideal Christmas setting.
Piper Halliwell busied herself in the kitchen, gliding from countertop to countertop, stove to sink. The room was her domain. The one place where she always seemed to have absolute control. The one place she could depend on; aside from the arms of her husband.
"Piper, honey, you should take a minute to relax," he cooed ever so gently. The man was pushing sixty, his former golden locks dimmed with shades of gray. He was no less handsome than he had been before but in the time that had passed he had certainly aged.
"I'm fine Leo," Piper told him breathlessly.
"You've been on your feet all day."
"It's Christmas. Every other year I'm cooking all day."
"Every other year has been a little bit . . . different," Leo muttered softly. His eyes saddened with the words and he watched with a wrenching heart as his wife froze for a moment. He could see her lower lip give a discreet quiver. Her chest moved in an attempt to lock in emotion. He could see the pain in every part of her but with great defiance and strength she would deny its release. "It's okay to just let go, Piper."
Her head moved in disagreement. "Not now," she told him. "We're going to get through this Christmas. We're going to do it for the kids and for the rest of the family. That's how she would have wanted it."
Leo dropped his head in defeat, resenting her stubbornness as he often did. Before he could try to barter with her once more, a swirl of blue lights appeared in the center of the room. Emerging with the orbs was the couple's eldest son. His arms were full with poorly wrapped packages and a wide, ever-present grin was on his seemingly boyish face.
"Merry Christmas, mom," Wyatt greeted his mother ardently. He pecked a tender kiss to her cheek. "Sorry, I'm late. We had some last minute menu changes to finalize."
Wyatt Matthew Halliwell was purportedly the greatest of the Charmed legacy. He was known to the entire magical community as the Twice Blessed and most powerful being on Earth. It was a fact his parents took secret but never told pride in. A fact that he always avoided to stay humble. At twenty-nine Wyatt had been through his own series of misfortune and adventure. He had learned his own strengths and weaknesses. Most of all he had learned to never take anything for granted.
Magic of course wasn't the only birthright that Wyatt carried with him. The eldest of the latest Halliwell generation also carried on his mother's legacy. He was the head chef at the Triquetra, Piper Halliwell's first and only restaurant. As he arrived at the manor for Christmas dinner he was still clad in a white chef jacket and charcoal pants.
"You'd think things would be tame at the restaurant considering its Christmas," Leo said in surprise as he slowly helped Wyatt with the arm load of presents.
"I guess some people aren't lucky enough to have a cooking matriarch at holiday time," Wyatt replied. He rubbed his hands together as he looked to his mother. "Please tell me you left something for me to do…"
"Honey ham is already in the oven, rolls are baking, pies are setting …"
"Stuffing. I will help with the stuffing," Wyatt insisted. His mother's scowl soon overcame her face and he sighed. "Come on, you can't keep a Halliwell out of the kitchen. It's your fault anyway."
"My fault?"
"I got your genes."
"No, I think you are definitely your father's son. Remember how Chris supposedly got my neurotic habits?"
"And I got your cooking expertise; now allow me to assist you."
Leo chuckled to himself as he left the kitchen, striding through the dining room with arms full of Christmas gifts. His smile soon faded however as he came closer to the living room and suddenly his heart remembered why the holiday was consumed with such gloom. Only his sister-in-law acknowledged his presence as she sat on the sofa, two nieces at her sides. Phoebe gave him a sympathetic nod, though her eyes were shiny with sorrow. He swallowed down a pit of tears and nodded back before slowly distributing the gifts underneath the tree.
"Uncle Leo, is Wyatt here?" a meek voice spoke up. Phoebe's arm was secured around the girl's slender shoulders and slowly slid off as she shifted up from the cushions.
"Yeah, he's in the kitchen helping your aunt Piper," Leo answered.
Kate was the eldest of the Matthews-Mitchell twins, a detail she emphasized often. She had her mother's intelligence, determination, and matter of fact behavior; things that seemed to be absent in the present moment. The twenty-five year old had also taken up her mother's occupation as a whitelighter, devoting herself to charges and innocents with passion and generosity. She possessed the common powers of orbing, sensing, and healing as well as her mother's power of telekinetic orbing.
To most in the family Kate Pandora was Paige Matthews in the flesh.
"I'll go see if they need help," Kate sighed, rising from the couch with as much resilience as she could manage. Leo nearly opened his mouth to tell her that Piper and Wyatt would more than likely shoo her out of the kitchen, but then decided against it. No one would be shooing Kate away anytime soon.
Staying behind was Kate's "other half" as she was called. Samantha Piper Halliwell was born forty-two minutes after her sister though you would never be able to tell. The girls were completely identical with their dark brown hair and shimmering caramel eyes. Looks of course seemed to be one of few things the twins had in common. Sam, named after her maternal grandfather, lacked her mother and sister's feistiness, seeming to have more qualities that had been affluent in her father. The young witch was sensitive, careful, and reserved. She had avoided the magical path of Kate and Paige, settling in as a journalist for the Bay Mirror. Still, Sam was just as powerful as the rest of her family, wielding the gifts of deflection, premonition, and orbing.
She watched silently as her sister left her, leaving her head limp on her aunt's shoulder. She longed to be strong like her sister. She longed to be brave like her mother. In the current situation however she felt as though those gifts were something she had never inherited. Phoebe kept a comforting arm around her shoulder, feeling every sting in the woman's heavy heart. Sometimes it was painful to be an empath.
"Where'd everyone else go?" Leo asked, glancing around the room.
"Melinda and Lila went to the attic …" Phoebe said, her voice full of disapproval and foreboding. Leo seemed to share the same sentiment as his brow and face fell in worry. As usual however their conversation was cut off by the appearance of orbs. But in this particular case, they were not annoyed.
Chris, the family's "neurotic whitelighter", landed in the living room with practiced perfection. He was the family's most devoted witch and bordered on the line of dangerously loyal. Piper and Leo's middle child was bossy, obsessive, and sometimes infuriating but always well intentioned. Beneath his detached and focused exterior was passion and kindness. The Christmas evening was one of the few times the family could see it so clearly. His shoulders were slumped and his face was sullen as he faced his father, aunt, and cousin.
"Any sign of Joey?" Leo asked anxiously.
His youngest son grimly shook his head. "No," he replied. "I can't sense him anywhere."
"That's because he's wearing his amulet," Sam spoke up despondently. The trio of family members all looked to her in concern. "Don't worry. He's okay. Kate and I would know if he wasn't okay…"
Chris swallowed hard. "I'll go out and ---"
"No, don't Chris. It's not worth it. He just wants to be alone," she told him. When Leo and Chris looked to Phoebe for confirmation the famed author nodded her head in agreement.
"I'm going to go upstairs then. Got to go check something out in the attic," Chris said. He placed a hand on the top of Sam's head as he passed, the gesture his own small act of comfort and affection.
Leo and Phoebe exchanged a knowing glance before Leo followed quickly after his son. "Chris," he called catching him halfway up the staircase. His steps came to a halt.
"Yeah?"
"I know what you're going to do," Leo said, his eyes pleading. "I'm asking you to not. Not now."
Chris eyes grew a deep emerald in fierceness. His stance grew stiff and defensive. It was no secret that there was a darkness inside of Chris. No, it was not evil but something to be feared. Something developed in the womb. Something grown in the shadows of his eldest brother's success. Something that could not be taught. Now it was there, surrounding him as he faced his father. "You cannot ask me that," he told him, his voice shaking as he tried to keep control.
"It's Christmas."
"I don't care!" Chris barked. He lowered his voice and hunched in seriousness. "Someone crossed this family. Someone hurt us, dad. I'm not going to let them get away with that. I will do whatever I need to do to make it better."
Leo was the only one who could talk sense into his wife, into the Charmed ones, into the Elders, into his nieces and nephews, and especially into his children. His voice remained calm but firm as he broke in with reason. "You think going after these demons emotional and unprepared is going to make things better? You think the loss will hurt less after you get revenge? More than that do you think it will help anyone if you get hurt too?" he spoke seriously. Their eyes remained locked for a moment. Leo knew there would be no stopping his son. He was a man now. He was twenty-eight years old and a witch in his own right. Leo could only hope he chose the right path. With a deep sigh he spoke lowly: "your sister and Lila are in the attic. Dinner will be ready soon."
Chris watched as his father diffidently turned away. He remained frozen in his place, hand wrapped around the banister as his conscience tumbled restless with thoughts. "I hate when he does this . . ." he mumbled bitterly.
"Aunt Phoebe specifically asked you not to do this," Melinda Halliwell told her cousin as she sat on the nearly historic attic sofa. She watched uneasily while Lila flipped through the Book of Shadows at rapid speed.
"I'm twenty-four years old and last I checked you were an adult too, Mel. She can't control what we do," an unyielding voice reasoned in annoyance. Lila Patience Halliwell was the middle child of Phoebe and Coop. She was spirited and enthusiastic, constantly speaking her mind and doing as she pleased. Her passion was said to be derived from her mother, to which no one could argue.
"It's Christmas. We should be downstairs with the rest of the family. What good do you think this is doing anyone? Mom and aunt Phoebe and Kate and Sam and Joey need us and you're just fixating on revenge," Melinda sighed.
"Don't put this all on me. You can't tell me that you don't want to get back at whoever did this."
Melinda nervously glanced to the floor. "I just want to have a good Christmas. I just don't . . ." her voice broke and Lila looked up from the book. She slowly approached her younger cousin and took a seat next to her on the sofa, wrapping an arm around her.
"What's wrong?" Lila asked.
"The same thing that is always wrong. The fact that we never got to choose this. That we can't have a normal life. I never wanted to be a witch. I never wanted this destiny. It's ruining our lives. And now it's taken another life. Another member of our family," she confessed.
Twenty-four year old Melinda was Leo and Piper's youngest and only daughter. She was sweet, charming, and a bit vulnerable. She had her mother's soft side and her father's heart, leaving her quite exposed to the harshness of the world's evils. Being an empath did not soothe anything either. Of course that wasn't to say she lacked any strength. Melinda was a Halliwell after all. Like mother like daughter, she had inherited Piper's power of temporal stasis. And though she denied her legacy she had also accepted the bravery and rationale necessary to survive and cope.
"These powers aren't curses, Mel. Their gifts. You know that," Lila told her. Resenting life as a witch was something Lila would never understand. It inspired all she did. She was devoted to the craft and her family traditions. The young woman worked tirelessly as both a Cupid and a defender of the innocent.
"I'm sure you're right," Melinda sighed forlornly. "I just wish I could believe you."
The attic door swung open and Chris strode through with authority. Both girls instantly looked up at his arrival. "Find anything in the book?" he asked in complete aloofness.
"No," Lila answered just as detached. She released her arm from Mel and rose from the couch. "Did you find Joey?"
Chris shook his head. The emotion swelled beneath him as he thought of his youngest cousin and for a moment he froze, willing himself to be strong and cold. He paced over to the book, speaking quickly and with complete focus. With distant eyes he recalled the horrifying events that had led them to a gloomy holiday, his body and words completely tensed. "The demons were fast. They were fast and they were smart."
"Stupid enough to mess with the Halliwells though," Lila replied.
"They had strategy. They went straight for anyone with the ability to heal. That's why they lured Wyatt to the Underworld. Then at the Manor they went for Kate and I first. They had to have known that we were whitelighters," Chris said. The images flashed through his mind like a film strip. With his words Melinda shivered on the sofa, her face paling with each twisted remembrance. The memories made her feel sick.
"Can we please not talk about this now?" she asked.
Chris broke with sudden sympathy. He loved everyone in his family but when it came down to it he would sacrifice everything and everyone in the world for his sister and mother. They were the only two who could break him. "I'm sorry, Mel," he whispered. His green eyes glowered with sadness. "You should go downstairs."
She nodded before rising from the couch and slipping out of the room. "She's having a hard time coping," Lila told Chris.
"She'll be okay," he muttered before sliding back into his cold front. "Now, the demons' powers suggest that they were upper level."
Lila shook her head for a moment. "I feel like you might be going the wrong way with this. How do you know they weren't sent? Besides you hardly got a good look at any of them. It's not much to go off of."
"That's why I'm going to do some investigating," Chris said.
"Investigating?"
"I'm going to the Underworld tomorrow. I already spoke with the Elders about my charges. I'll leave after the funeral."
She trudged ungracefully up the front steps, dragging a full laundry bag behind her. Her brown Birkenstocks slipped along the ice, forcing her to cling helplessly to the side of the house. She cursed bitterly as she pulled on the handle to find it locked. "Locked door? What's that for? The big bad solicitators and neighborhood robbers? We have demons shimmering in and you're afraid of an unlocked door?" she grumbled under her breath. She rolled up her fist and pounded anxiously against the wood.
In an instant the barrier was pulled open and Wyatt greeted his young cousin. "Lucy!" he exclaimed eagerly. He towered over her small frame and five feet of height, making her feel like a munchkin as he enveloped her in a hug. When they released he spotted the plump military bag behind her. "What's with that?"
"Oh, just uh . . . laundry," Lucy answered with a shrug. Wyatt only shook his head before grabbing the stuffed bag and ushering her inside.
"Is that peanut?!" Phoebe called from the living room.
Lucy sighed and Wyatt gave a deep chuckle. Lucille Penelope Halliwell was the third of Coop and Phoebe's daughters and the second youngest of the next generation. She was twenty-two years old and a student at Stanford University, studying to be an architect. Lucy had strived to maintain an identity separate from that of her family and was known fondly for her bohemian style and liberal thinking. She was even tempered, creative, intuitive, and cynical, constantly making the most bland of situations interesting.
"Is the food ready?" she asked desperately.
"You've been here an entire minute," Wyatt said as they made their way for the living room.
"Well, let's just say I'm not here for the social scene. It's like a morgue or something."
"You know you might want to hold back on the crude comments," Wyatt warned in a whisper.
"What? She's dead. And if anything I think she would appreciate my sense of humor," Lucy replied.
Her words caused Wyatt to flush of all color by the time they had reached the living room where Sam and Phoebe still lounged. "Lucille Penelope Halliwell is that laundry?" her mother asked.
"Define laundry?"
"I can understand you bringing your dirty things to our house but your aunt's? That's in poor taste," Phoebe scolded.
"That's not the only thing in poor taste," Wyatt muttered. Lucy elbowed him in the ribs.
"Hey, I never said aunt Piper had to do it…" she grinned, offering her mother the bag. "Consider it my gift to you."
"Not funny," Phoebe replied, though both Wyatt and Sam snickered. It went without saying that sometimes as Halliwells it was easier to laugh to keep from weeping. That Christmas evening would be no exception.
"What's so funny in here?" Melinda asked as she bounded down that stairs and joined the group in the living room.
"Nothing teach," Lucy answered as the two shared an embrace. Following graduation from high school Melinda had been the first of her siblings to attend college. After six years of study at the University of California she had been hired for her dream job as a high school teacher.
"Dinner is ready!" Piper announced from the kitchen. The family members all carefully exchanged glances. The truth was that no one was hungry. No one wished to sit through a painful meal of artificial happiness and holiday cheer. The only thing they were willing to do was pretend in order to make it tolerable for one other.
"You should go get Chris and Lila from the attic," Melinda told her brother. Her tone said more than her words and Wyatt quickly understood. Even he, the most powerful of the Halliwells, had agreed that the current was no time for revenge or demon battles. More tragedy was something necessary to avoid in the dire circumstances.
As Wyatt left, Mel quickly caught up with Sam, placing an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her as they made their way for the dining room. "How are you?"
"Managing," Sam answered. Her voice became more staid. "They're up there plotting for retribution aren't they?"
Melinda gave a grim nod. "It's their way of coping."
"It's going to get another family member killed."
Wyatt pulled in a calming breath before opening the attic door. As he expected his brother and Lila were deep in conversation on the other side, hovering close to the Book of Shadows. "Dinner is ready," he said bleakly.
"We'll be down in a minute."
"No, you'll be down now, Chris. What the hell do you think you're doing anyway? You want to break mom and aunt Phoebe's heart?"
"You want to stand by and let whoever did this get away with it?" Chris countered.
"No. I want to take the proper time to grieve and support this family," Wyatt snapped.
Since they were boys Wyatt and Chris had been inseparable. They were best friends and partners. At the same token they were complete opposites. One was fire and one was ice. Their arguments were plentiful but never permanent. And never would the other hold back what they thought and felt. Never would they give into one another without a fight.
"You can't stop me Wyatt."
"Like hell I can't," he told him coldly. "If you think what you're doing is going to help this family, you're wrong. It's completely selfish and narrow minded."
Lila watched anxiously as the two brothers stared one another down. Never had things gotten physical, minus a few wrestling matches broken up by Leo but powers had never been used against one another. It was the only comfort she had as the two glared at one another.
"I already have the support of the Elders," Chris revealed.
"You what?"
"I'm leaving for the underworld tomorrow."
"I'm going with him," Lila added.
Wyatt looked between the two of them. "No. No you're not. Neither of you are."
"You can't control what we do, Wyatt," Chris said. His voice had become gentle and controlled. "We'll leave after the funeral. We're just going to do some investigating. Interrogate a few demons. Nothing dangerous or harming to the family."
Wyatt's attitude changed slightly. The support of the Elders meant many things and to him it meant that on some twisted level his brother had the right idea. "No vanquishing or murder sprees?"
"No."
"Good; I'll make sure of it."
"What?"
"I'm coming with you," Wyatt told him with a subtle smirk. He clapped his hands together. "Now, let's go eat some ham."
The door was unlocked when she arrived and with a shake of her head she pushed it open, mumbling about the safety hazard of an unbolted front door on her way inside.
"Wow, didn't think you would show up."
She looked up in time to find her younger sister frozen at the bottom of the staircase, hands on her hips as she stood in the front hall.
"Merry Christmas to you too, Lila," she replied.
Laura Patricia Halliwell was the eldest of Phoebe's three daughters. She was twenty-seven years old and the most independent of all her siblings and cousins, abandoning her destiny to create one of her own. The personal choice was one that had garnered her much grief from her younger sister, who often accused her of forsaking the family.
"So, how many years has it been at this point? Two going on three?"
"I'm not going to do this with you now," Laura muttered as she brushed past her. Much like Wyatt and Chris, Laura and Lila were of contradictory natures. Laura was even keeled, completely reasonable, and book savvy, while Lila bounced with vigor and character.
"Fine; avoid me just like you do everything else that isn't easy," Lila said, baiting her sister into an argument. Laura paused, giving a slow and foreboding laugh. She carefully turned to face her, folding arms across her chest as she stared her down with identical auburn eyes.
"Tell me, Lila, where do you get off? Is it making me miserable or just being a complete bitch?"
"I don't know but while I think about it why don't you tell me what it's like to be the only Halliwell who was born a coward."
Wyatt and Chris slipped into empty chairs at the dining room table just as Piper entered with a shining platter of ham. The family cooed with admiration as the main entrée arrived steaming with perfection. The long table was covered with a Piper Halliwell-esque feast. Warm mashed potatoes, soft rolls, stuffing, green beans, and steaming vegetables were among the dinner dishes.
With great caution Piper set the ham down onto the table and Leo happily began slicing away with the carving knife. Low conversation started around the table as different side dishes were passed from person to person. Lucy had already swallowed down two rolls and drowned her plate in balmy gravy.
"Where is Lila?" Phoebe whispered into Chris' ear.
"She was just behind us on the way down from the attic," he shrugged.
Suddenly a loud yell came from the front hall. The family paused their passing of dishes and conversations soon decreased in volume. "Selfish bitch!" a familiar voice shrieked from the front hall. The entire table went silent as the booming argument echoed through the manor.
"What's that?" Kate asked slowly.
"I think Laura is here," Phoebe muttered as she rose from her seat and removed the napkin from her lap. Without hesitation she left the table, prepared for only the worst. Piper followed suit behind her sister, freezing for a moment however to face the rest of the family who was beginning to move from their seats as well.
"Don't even think about it. Everyone just stay here; nothing to see," she advised. Grumbles of disappointment cooed around the table as Piper disappeared to disperse yet another family spar.
"Are you kidding me? No way am I missing this," Lucy announced, scrambling quickly from her seat. Leo reached for her but she was far from the table before he could come close. He groaned in frustration, rolling his eyes, and pressing a palm to his forehead.
"Tell us what happens!" Chris called after her.
"Why can't you just accept that I chose to have my own life? Not everything in this world is about magic and fantasy!" Laura bellowed at her sister.
"It's not fantasy Laura! It's reality and you're too selfish to carry on family destiny!"
"Why do you care?! Why can't you just worry about yourself and be done with it?! I'm sorry I'm not like you and dad who just live in this life of love and idealism!"
"Oh don't bring dad into this!"
"Why not? You'll just defend him like you always do! Mom needed a husband, not a free spirit! We needed a father not a man with a calling! I'm sorry things didn't work out between them but I've been done blaming mom for a long time. I've been done with all this magic and I'm actually happy, Lila! And the truth is that you're jealous!"
"I can't believe I even call you my sister! I don't even know you!"
"Girls!" Phoebe yelled at the two of them as she interfered. Her face was stark with seriousness, her voice rigid. "You stop this instant! I didn't raise you to fight like this."
"Yeah, you raised us to embrace our destiny and blessings. To devote ourselves to family," Lila said, her eyes narrowing in on Laura. Piper and Lucy entered quietly beside Phoebe as the two sisters faced off.
"I've never abandoned this family. Just my powers."
"Powers are a part of this family. They always have been," Lila hissed. "I'm surprised you even care that aunt Paige is dead - - -"
A hand slapped across Lila's face and her brown eyes grew dark with intensity. Laura was breathing heavily her cheeks scarlet with fury.
"Laura . . . Lila . . ." Phoebe began in a shaking voice. She nervously glanced between each daughter, sensing the sheer violent feelings developing. The fierceness of their eyes told her it was too late.
Lila gave a low grunt as she lunged at Laura, pushing at her shoulders and clawing at her face. Laura struggled against her sister's sudden force, shoving her away the best she could. When her arms became free she yanked relentlessly at her Lila's hair, causing a high pitched screech to echo in the living room.
"All right," Lucy chuckled as she flung herself onto the couch to watch the brawl.
"Leo!" Piper called for her husband. "We could use some help in here!"
With a strong hold on her older sister, Lila rammed Laura at the back of the couch, and in a fast instant the two swooped off the floor and flipped onto the other side. "Watch it!" Lucy yelled as Laura's foot smacked into the back of her head. The youngest sister scrambled away from the couch, nearly slamming into her mother as Phoebe moved to break up the fight.
"Stop it! Let go!" Phoebe ordered loudly. She attempted to pull Lila from Laura but only stumbled back over the coffee table.
With a thrust of power Laura pushed Lila off of her body and drove the two of them away from the couch. Without pause she slammed Lila into the wall, the stockings rattling out of their spots nearby and flying onto the floor. Lila shoved her away and with a loss of balance Laura tripped over the gifts beneath the tree, slamming ungracefully onto the floor. Without remorse or hesitation Lila climbed on top of her, pulling and hitting at whatever she could get her hands on. Laura desperately shielded herself with her arms, Lila's fists smacking into her hands and forearms.
Wyatt and Leo sprinted into the living room, pausing for a moment to absorb the rambunctious scene. Behind them the family ran in, skidding to a halt by Piper and Lucy, eager to see what had sent the home into turmoil. Wyatt moved for the girls and pulled Lila off of her sister, holding her back with his strong arms. Laura climbed to her feet, ready to attack again before Leo blocked her path.
"You bitch!" Laura spat at her sister.
"Enough!" Phoebe screamed loudly at her daughters. The girls, along with the rest of the now watching family, shuddered at the boom of her voice. It was one they had not heard in several years. One that meant they were beyond just in trouble with mom. Phoebe's eyes lacked any of their usual light or sparkle. Her jaw was clenched, her entire form stiff and shoulders rigid. She was absolutely gone and consumed by rage. "I have never been more ashamed. Both of you are a disgrace to this family! And not because of powers or occupation but because you have abandoned everything that your aunts and I have taught you! You have completely forsaken all that is good and valued in this home and in this family. And you brought shame upon your aunt Pa . . ."
Her voice broke off. The words stopped frozen in her throat and suddenly emotion became heavy in the room. Without pause Phoebe pulled away, striding out before anyone could move in protest. There was a deep silence left to fill the void that had been created and in sorrow the Halliwells sunk into its gloomy pit.
"This is hard for everyone . . ." Piper spoke up gently. Everyone looked to find her face, a beacon of light and hope in an hour of darkness. She was the voice of reason and leadership for the entire family, even her nieces and nephew. She was the core and heart of the large Halliwell clan and now more than ever in tragedy they looked for her grace and strength in the misery. "We all loved Paige. We all are hurting. And no; it wasn't fair. But now isn't the time to be fighting with each other. Now isn't even the time for payback …"
Chris bowed his head at her words as Melinda's eyes burned into him. "It's not easy but we're going to get through the holiday and the funeral tomorrow the best we can. We're going to support each other and we're going to take care of each other; even if we don't want to. That's what Paige would want us to do. That's what we've all taught you to do."
"I'm sorry aunt Piper," Laura said warily, her face painted thick with remorse.
"Me too," Lila added.
"It's okay," their aunt whispered in response. She cleared her throat to erase the tears and put her hands on her hips, retaining the composure she constantly upheld. "Now clean this up. Go finish dinner and open your gifts. I'm going to go talk to Phoebe."
She carefully ran her hand over the worn cover of the family heirloom, her eyes filling with warm tears as her fingers brushed over the tattered olive leather. It was amazing to think how thick the Book had become. How the pages had yellowed and become more wrinkled. It had been used in dire situations, the pages flipped by the hands of countless Warren witches and protectors of the innocent.
Now it pained her to think another was gone.
When the attic door swung open Phoebe did not raise her gaze. Years in the house had taught her to know exactly who was entering. She knew who it was from the way their feet hit the creaking floorboards or how the handle turned with their fingers. "You should see this," she told her elder sister in a low monotone. Tears quietly pealed from her eyes and rolled down her pale cheeks. "It's all done."
Piper slowly came behind her sister, placing a warm hand on her shoulder before staring down at the closed Book of Shadows. Her heart dropped at the sight.
There, embroidered in gold on the cover, was a broken triquetra.
"No," Piper gasped in disbelief.
"She's really gone," Phoebe whimpered. "It's not like when Prue left. There's not another long lost sister out there. The Charmed ones are over. There is no power of three."
The two sisters melted into each other's arms, embracing with complete desperation. Sobs echoed in the attic as their chests heaved with each pitiful cry. In their years of battling and facing evil they had become accustomed to loss. They expected tragedy at every turn. But it still did not suppress the pain. It did not make it any easier. And even now, with years of experience and strength, it still hurt to lose another sister.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," Piper cried hopelessly. For the past two days since her youngest sister's death she had suppressed all emotion, never once revealing weakness. Only now could she finally crumble in pity and depression. The two remaining Charmed ones huddled together on the sofa, lost and fraught with only one another for company.
For the past twenty years they had always worried about everyone else. They worried about the safety of their children. They worried for their unarmed husbands getting in the line of fire. They worried for innocents and exposure. They worried for giving their kids normal lives and for their happiness. But never had they worried about the death of one of their sisters.
"It's going to be okay," Phoebe insisted with a sniffle.
"How?" Piper choked on a sob. Her eyes were completely stained red from tears, her face damp and unkempt. "How are things supposed to be okay? The Charmed ones are over. There is no power of three. You saw the Book. What happens now?"
Phoebe swallowed, shaking her head as she took a moment to think. Her stare locked ahead on the dusty shelves of the attic, filled with books, crystals, and vials. The shelves were covered in memories. The attic was full of all the things that were the power of three. All the things that were the sisters. Now the attic would have to become new things.
"We still have the kids," Phoebe said. "Right?"
"Yeah," Piper agreed, the heaving of her chest stopping for a moment. She wiped her cheeks. "That was always our biggest fear, wasn't it?"
"Paige would have wanted it this way," her sister agreed. "She would die any day in place of her children or her nieces and nephews."
"You're right," Piper mumbled tiredly. "I still wish she wasn't gone."
"Me too," Phoebe sighed, dropping her head onto Piper's shoulder. They were quiet for a moment in reflection. "Do you remember when we first met Paige?"
"How could I forget?" she chuckled. Piper lowered her head in shame. "I remember she thought I hated her for so long."
"She wanted so bad to be one of 'us.' To please us," Phoebe said.
"She was a great witch," Piper whispered.
"She was a great sister," Phoebe added.
"We're going to be okay," Piper said optimistically. She squeezed Phoebe's hand into her own. "We always end up being okay. The kids . . . the kids will take up the reigns. I think it's about our turn to retire anyway."
"Don't say that, you make me feel old," Phoebe growled.
"You are old."
"I'm fifty-two."
"Phoebe you're fifty-seven!" Piper shouted in outrage.
"Fine but you're fifty-nine, so haha missy time," Phoebe teased, sticking her tongue out at her older sister.
"Grow up," she chuckled. Phoebe laughed as well and the two sighed as their giggles came to a halt.
"You think their ready?" Piper asked.
"The kids?"
"Yeah."
Phoebe moaned. "No," she mumbled. "I can't even keep my own daughters from wanting to kill each other. Some parenting job I've done, right?"
"You can only lead them so far. Besides, remember how messed up the three of us were before we became Charmed?" Piper assured.
"I guess you're right," Phoebe agreed softly. "I just wish I felt better about all this."
"I think we will . . . eventually. The kids will get the hang of it. Besides, we can't do this forever."