Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, concepts, or plot arcs of Charmed.
Wyatt and Chris had been sitting in Wyatt's car down the street from Dylan Thompson's house for nearly twenty minutes before Chris voiced his suspicion that Dylan was home afterall.
"How do you know?"
Chris pointed to a window on the top floor. "I can see a shadow through the window of someone moving around. Both his parents are downstairs." The curtains were open on the first floor so they could see Ben and Sandra Thompson sitting in the living area, presumably watching television.
"I feel like a stalker," Chris mumbled.
"It was your idea," Wyatt pointed out.
"I know. I didn't say we shouldn't do it; I'm just saying I feel like a stalker."
They were quiet for a moment before Wyatt cursed. Chris asked him what was wrong. "I forgot to call Aunt Paige," Wyatt said. He sighed and then shrugged. "Ah well, I'm sure Allison told her how pissed she was when she got home. That girl doesn't hold back what she thinks. Aunt Paige will know to watch her."
"Yeah, you're probably right." Chris paused. "Maybe this could be my job. I could be like a bodyguard for magic school. Keep all the demons out."
"Except demons don't get into magic school. It's part of the enchantments on it."
"Not true. Demons took over magic school when we were little, remember? They probably could have used a bodyguard specifically hired to get rid of those demons."
Wyatt nodded, humoring his brother. "You sound more like an exterminator than a bodyguard." He paused. "Besides, that wouldn't happen again. They know how to prevent it this time around."
Chris shrugged. "Maybe."
"You really don't want to be a teacher, do you?"
"I thought I did. And I stuck it out 'cause I figured I needed to get used to it. You hated being a white lighter at first, and now you like it okay."
"I don't know. Being a white lighter is like ten percent rewarding and ninety percent frustrating. But I like sharing our world with other people. Especially if they embrace it the way we have."
"I just hate thinking about this career stuff. I know that if I don't teach or become a white lighter, Mom and Dad will expect me to pick a mortal career, which I don't want to do. I think demon hunting is work enough."
"If you made a career out of demon hunting, you'd likely be doing it several hours a day. Do you really think Mom and Dad want you to be in danger that much? They'd rather you do something safe and occasionally take on a demon or two."
"But I'm careful."
"They're our parents. It's their job to worry," Wyatt said. "Besides, just because we're witches, we're not excused from the same crap normal people have to deal with. You graduated high school and now you need to figure out what to do with your life."
When Chris didn't say anything, Wyatt looked over and noticed Chris was staring intently at the Thompson house with squinted eyes. "What?" Wyatt asked.
"Look," Chris said. "He's leaving."
The window where they'd see Dylan's shadow moving around through the curtain had opened, and now a small boy was climbing out of it. He was wearing dark clothes and his short dark hair made him blend in with the night sky behind him. But they could see him stretching to grab onto the tree branch nearby. Wyatt and Chris glanced at each other. Climbing out the window had never been an issue for them – orbing made it easy to sneak out.
"He can't be a demon," Chris said. "He wouldn't need to walk; he could just shimmer."
Wyatt nodded. "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. But if he's not a demon, then why couldn't you scry for the kid?"
Chris shrugged. "No idea. C'mon, let's follow him."
Slowly, and quietly, they both climbed out of the car and started down the street that Dylan had taken. They kept themselves as distant as they could from the boy and hid behind anything they could when they thought he might be suspicious.
They'd been walking through the neighborhood for several minutes before Dylan's destination became painfully clear. He stopped on the sidewalk outside a house near the end of the street and crossed the yard. He was heading for the house where their Aunt Phoebe lived with her husband Coop and their three daughters.
Allison and Melinda walked along the sidewalk downtown in a slightly seedy area. It was completely dark now, and the streetlights where the only things helping them see. Allison stopped in front of an old flower shop.
"Here?" Melinda asked. "The demon is a florist?"
Allison rolled her eyes. "You really think this place is still open? The windows are cracked and dusty, and it's not that late. The owner would still be there. I think it's closed down and the demon is taking shelter."
"What do you think he's planning to do?"
"How should I know? All I did was scry. It's not like I know who the demon is."
"Allison, this is risky. Let's just go back."
"No," she said firmly. "I don't chicken out. I came here to kill this demon, and I plan on doing it. She reached into the pockets of her light jacket and pulled out a couple vanquishing potions. She handed one to Melinda and kept one for herself.
"Where did you make this?"
"Garage. It's not like my parents were home, and Jess and Henry are too focused on themselves to care what I'm doing."
Melinda shot her a look. "So everyone is self absorbed except for you. Nice Allison."
"Oh, don't get dramatic. Are you ready?"
"No, I'm not ready. I don't want to do this."
"Then don't," Allison said with an attitude, like she was really hurt. "If you want to leave then leave."
"I can't leave you here by yourself."
"Then I guess you're staying. Let's go." Allison hooded her eyes with her hands and peered inside. It was dark, but she couldn't see any shadows or outlines that would indicate someone was inside. "Okay, c'mon."
Allison grabbed Melinda's hand and led her around the corner into the alley where they wouldn't be seen. Then, they orbed into the dark store. Melinda felt her heart pounding. She'd never been in the presence of a demon without her parents around, and she was terrified. She felt on the verge of hyperventilating.
Cautiously, Allison backed them up into a wall, her logic being that no one would be able to sneak up on them. There was a door on the other side of the store, likely leading to a back room, and it started to creep open. A man slowly came out. He was wearing dark clothes and had an almost curious look on his face.
"Hello," he said, though it didn't sound very welcoming to Melinda. "You girls get lost on your way home?"
"I don't know," Allison replied. "Did you? 'Cause if I'm not mistaken, demons belong in the Underworld. Or better yet, the Wasteland." She held up her potion vial threateningly, and smirked. Melinda stopped breathing for a moment. Now he knew they weren't just innocent girls.
"Witches," he said, as if proving Melinda's point. He then put on a smirk of his own. "Baby witches."
"Correction," Allison said. "Charmed witches. And I'd think twice about hurting us. If you kill us, I guarantee you our parents will be back for you."
The demon's scowl disappeared, and a mixture of intrigue and concern replaced it. Before he could say anything more, another man came out of the room as well, and Melinda's panic instantly escalated. Not just one demon but two.
"What are you doing out here?" the second demon asked his cohort.
The first one pointed to the girls. "They claim to be children of the Charmed Ones."
"What do you mean claim?" Allison said. "You think we're lying?"
They ignored her. "What do you want to do with them?" the second one said.
"I don't know," the first one replied. "This could be a trap."
"Would the Charmed Ones use their children as bait?"
"Oh my God," Allison said. "Less chatting, more dying." She threw her vanquishing potion at the first demon, who immediately enveloped it in a ball of fire. Allison seemed stunned for a second. When the second demon sent an energy ball in their direction, Melinda had to grab her cousin by the arm and pull her down to duck. They both screamed.
"Orb, orb," Melinda insisted. She was relieved when Allison complied, orbing them into her and Jessica's bedroom. Allison immediately fell on to the bed, grabbing her shoulder tightly. When Melinda looked, she saw blood.
"Oh my God," Melinda said. The energy ball must have grazed her when they ducked. "You're hurt."
"I'm okay," Allison said, grimacing as she spoke. "Keep it down. I don't want my parents coming in."
"I need to find Wyatt."
"No," she snapped. "Get my brother."
Melinda hesitated, but she saw how much pain her cousin was in and nodded. She crept out into the hallway, nervous about her Aunt Paige or Uncle Henry seeing her. They'd wonder why she was there and how she got in, since she was one of the few Halliwell children that couldn't orb or shimmer. She and Phoebe's youngest, Whitney, were the only ones.
Down the hall, Melinda could hear the soft sound of a television. It was coming from Paige and Henry's bedroom, but when she heard a quiet, "Oh my God,' she recognized Jessica's voice and went closer. She waited to see if she could hear anyone else speak. When she didn't, she took a breath and peeked her head in and saw only her cousin there.
Jessica looked up when she noticed someone there and looked excited. "Oh, Melinda. You've got to watch this movie with me. There's this woman, Mrs. Danvers. She's awful!"
Melinda noticed the old black and white film on the screen, but ignored it with a sigh. "Not right now Jess. Where's Henry?"
"In the living room. He and my dad are watching some game."
Melinda leaned in closer to keep her voice soft. "Allison's hurt; she needs someone to heal her, but she doesn't want your parents to know."
Jessica looked concerned, the movie immediately forgotten. "Is she okay? Where is she?"
"In your room. Look, just get Henry and come in. Your mom and dad can't see me or else I'll have to explain what I'm doing here."
"Okay." Jessica quickly climbed off the bed and ran out into the hall. When Melinda was sure it was clear, she scurried back to the girls' bedroom and slipped inside. Allison was on the bed, rocking back and forth and holding her arm.
"You all right?"
Allison nodded, but didn't say anything. The injury looked pretty painful, and Melinda was sure that Allison had never experienced a wound like this before. Their mothers were probably used to it, but they certainly weren't.
A few seconds later, Jessica and Henry Jr. came into the room. The two siblings immediately went to their sister. "What happened?" Henry asked. Melinda still hadn't gotten used to how deep his voice had become recently. At the age of fourteen, he was looking and sounding more and more like his father. He'd just shaved his head too, making him a literal mini version of Henry Sr.
"Why don't you tell them?" Melinda asked Allison, who cringed as her brother healed the wound.
"What's taking so long?" Jessica demanded.
"Give me a break," Henry said. "I don't do this that often."
When the blood had completely disappeared, Allison rubbed at her shoulder as Henry backed up. He repeated his question. Melinda stared at Allison long and hard until she admitted what they'd done.
"It was a demon," Allison said. "We…kind of went after a demon tonight."
Both Jessica and Henry had identical looks of horror on their faces. "Why?" Jessica asked.
"Because she wanted to prove that she could," Melinda said with a touch of spite.
"Oh, you have no problem putting your two cents in now," Allison said, equally spiteful. "I guess you only really went to bail me out."
"Yeah, and you knew that was why I was going. I told you a million times that I didn't want to. But I didn't want you to get killed."
"Well, it's not like you really protected me, did you? You could have frozen those demons at any moment, and you didn't."
"I was scared."
"Look guys," Jessica intervened. "If we really don't want anyone to know, we should just forget it. You need to go home," she said to Melinda.
"I don't know if I want to keep it a secret," Melinda said.
"You promised me."
"That was before a demon sent an energy ball at our heads. At the very least, you have to let me tell Wyatt. He's your white lighter now."
"He'll tell my parents."
"Let me talk to him. I'll convince him not to."
Allison shook her head. "No."
"All right, well I don't need your permission anyway. I thought I could cover for you and keep you from being stupid, but it's too much for me." She turned to Jessica. "Can you orb me home?"
Allison spat, "Go to hell, Melinda."
Melinda merely rolled her eyes and reached for Jessica's hand. The two of them orbed back to the manor into Melinda's room. Immediately, Melinda let out an exasperated sigh. "I thought I was doing the right thing."
"What happened exactly?" Jessica asked.
"She came to me, saying that she wanted to go after a demon to prove to everyone that she could handle it. I didn't want to tell on her, and I didn't want her to get killed, so I went with her."
"You should have told on her."
Melinda shrugged. "But you want to cover for her now?"
"Well, what's done is done. Me and Henry know and if we think she's up to something again, we can talk to our parents. You'll get in trouble if we spill now, and you tried to do a good thing. You don't deserve to get punished."
"I won't be doing it again, that's for sure." Melinda sighed. "I just don't get it. Why does she have to be so…"
"Impatient?"
"Yes."
"She's just like us, Mel. We all want to grow up, but for her, growing up means…. becoming a full-fledged witch. Living her life the way that Wyatt and Chris do. The way our moms did."
"Props to you for putting up with it."
"Most of the time, it's not my problem. Usually, it's Mom's. Dad doesn't feel like he has the right to tell her she can't use her powers, and me and Henry stay out of it."
"She said she wanted someone to connect with. When you think about it, she really doesn't have anyone."
"She has friends at school, but I think those girls are more interested in conjuring hair extensions for themselves than fighting demons." Jessica paused. "I better get back. You gonna tell Wyatt?"
"I don't know yet. He and Chris are out so I probably won't see him until tomorrow anyway. I'll sleep on it."
"Thanks for going with her." Jessica smiled and left. Melinda let out a deep sigh. She had a difficult decision to make now.
When it became clear that Dylan was going into Phoebe and Coop's home, Wyatt immediately moved forward to follow, but Chris grabbed his arm. "No, not yet."
Wyatt complied and crouched back down behind Phoebe's car that was parked in the driveway. Originally, it seemed like Dylan was going to use the front door, which was innocent enough, but when the boy started walking around to the back of the house, Chris and Wyatt stood in unison and started to creep to the side where Dylan had gone. They stopped at the corner and peered around. Dylan was standing outside a window, tapping on the glass.
"Whose window is that?" Chris whispered.
"I think it's Whitney's," Wyatt replied. They watched Dylan push his leg over the windowsill and climb into the room. "What do we do?"
Chris answered by sidling along the edge of the house in a crouched position, walking beneath the windows. Wyatt followed and they stopped beneath the now open window that Dylan had just climbed through.
"What are you doing here?" Whitney's soft, gentle voice asked Dylan.
"I needed to see you," he replied.
"Keep your voice down," she said. "If my dad catches you in here, he won't understand."
"This feels wrong," Wyatt whispered to his brother.
Chris shook his head. "We need to make sure he doesn't try anything."
Wyatt nodded. "As a demon or…"
"Either one," Chris said simply. He then shushed Wyatt so they could hear what Whitney and Dylan were saying.
Whitney was surprised to see Dylan at her window. He'd walked home with her a few times, but he'd never actually been inside her house. She told him to sit, and he grabbed the chair from her desk and moved it closer to her bed, where she was sitting with a pillow in her lap.
"You haven't been at school all week," she said.
"I've been sick," he replied. She didn't believe it for a second. He'd been missing a lot of school lately, and she had a feeling that he wasn't just sick. "How've you been?" he asked.
Whitney shrugged. "All right, I guess. Things have been out of control lately with my powers. My parents are getting freaked."
"What do you mean out of control?"
"It's mostly my premonitions. I've started having bad dreams sometimes, and I'm seeing stuff that's really scaring me." She saw a concerned look cross his face, and she added, "It's worse though because I can't do anything about what I see. We figured out that most of them have already happened."
"You're not having premonitions then," he said. "You're clairvoyant. You can see everything."
"My mom's powers work that way too. Do you ever see stuff from the past?"
Dylan shook his head. "My premonitions are always of the future."
There was a short bout of silence until Whitney said, "My dad wants to bind my powers."
"What?" Dylan sounded completely outraged at hearing this. He almost stood up out of his chair, but managed to calm down and said in a much calmer voice, "You can't let them do that."
"My mom won't let it happen," she said, slightly confused by his outburst. "She says I just need to work through it, but my dad says that since I'm only eleven, I shouldn't have to deal with this. He wants to bind them until I'm older. Especially now that…" she paused, "I just found out that I have an active power."
"An active power?" He seemed stunned at first and then he smiled. "That's really awesome. What is it?"
"Telekinesis. It's kind of cool, but kind of random."
"Why is that random?"
"My sisters only have one witch power. Same with my Aunt Paige and her kids. I don't understand why I'm so different."
Dylan got up and sat down beside her on the bed. He put an arm around her shoulders and she found herself not objecting. "You're special, Whitney," he said softly. "More special than anyone else."
Whitney smiled and put her head down on his shoulder. The second her forehead made contact with the side of his neck, she had a premonition. When it was finished, she slowly pushed herself off of him, looking at him fearfully, unable to catch her breath.
"Whitney? What is it?" he asked. At the sound of his voice, she pushed herself even further away, climbing off the bed. "What's wrong?"
"You're…you're a demon."
